Each One's Future (2)
Having finished my lessons with the Emperor, I walked the corridors of the Imperial Palace alongside Julie. Even within the palace, Julie maintained her vigilant posture, and it was then that Jolang appeared.
"Lord Yukline. There's been an incident underground."
I nodded and headed to the palace basement with Jolang.
It was the darkness of the Imperial Palace—the only passage leading to the Devil's Mirror.
But.
"It's sealed shut. Quite the predicament, wouldn't you say."
Jolang said with a furrowed brow.
I looked at the basement door. It was covered in pitch-black, desiccated tissue like tar.
"Since when has it been like this."
"It was an ordinary door until today, when it suddenly turned into this."
Jolang gripped the doorknob and rattled it wildly, but it wouldn't budge.
"Even the knights couldn't force it open. I had no choice but to send them all away."
I nodded.
"Then the time has not yet come."
"The time...? Lord Yukline, do you know what's inside."
"......"
What lurked in this basement, what the quest called "Imperial Palace Darkness" truly meant.
I already knew. I had cleared it back in my player days.
"Who can say."
The darkness of the Imperial Palace was the darkness harbored by its master.
In other words, Sophien's past.
Thus, this basement held Sophien's past. The Devil's Mirror was the passage connecting to it.
The question was, why would the devil bother meddling with Sophien's past.
The reason: Sophien's death meant the end of this world.
As I had said before, Sophien's death triggered [GAME OVER]. That was how the system worked.
It was an immensely important quest, yet surprisingly not urgent right now.
Sophien was a regressor, after all, so the quest to explore her past came with "dozens of opportunities" across regressions.
"I cannot know without entering. I shall return. Contact me when the door opens."
"Understood. As you wish."
Jolang turned away with a sour expression, while Julie murmured in puzzlement.
"How suspicious. Why would the palace basement end up like that."
"You need not concern yourself."
"Pardon."
"Do not even think of meddling."
"......"
Julie's eyes narrowed in bewilderment, but she must not learn of this basement's past.
Sophien's death.
The former head of the Phairden family—Julie's father—was partially involved in that tragedy.
"Come. I have a full schedule today."
"......Yes."
We left the palace together.
Near the gates, Ren waited by the car, checking her notepad.
"Next on the schedule: Rohalak in Yukline County."
Ren's voice sounded different from usual as she announced it, but I boarded without comment.
"Depart."
"Yes."
Meanwhile, Ifrin, Sylvia, and Kariksel boarded the floating island together.
The mystical scenery of the floating island had grown somewhat familiar, but to reach the Training Island for the Soda promotion exam, the modern marvel known as the "airship" was essential.
"Phew......"
Arriving at the airship platform, Ifrin felt a mix of tension and excitement. Naturally, she'd never even seen an airship before, let alone ridden one.
"Shall we board."
Thank goodness for Kariksel.
Sylvia said nothing, but the adventurer-born Kariksel was knowledgeable and talkative.
"We just get on. Nothing else to do."
"Of course. Step aboard as comfortably as entering your home. I'll go first~"
Kariksel ascended the tall platform stairs first. Ifrin stared blankly at his back before following.
"Ugh-!"
As she climbed, Sylvia tugged her robe hood.
"Why all of a sudden."
"Foolish Ifrin."
"What."
Ifrin's brow furrowed in confusion. Sylvia silently glanced at her shoes.
"......Ah~"
Realizing something, Ifrin smirked.
"Shoes. Who do you take me for, really. I knew that."
She patted her chest confidently.
She hadn't known, but it was an airship—shoes off, obviously. Kariksel had said "as comfortably as entering your home."
"I'll head up first~"
Ifrin ascended gracefully like a noble, removing her shoes before boarding. Then she scanned around for a shoe rack.
"......Huh."
No shoe rack.
Personal responsibility.
Then, a passenger glanced at Ifrin's feet and twitched his cheek. Puzzled by the reaction, she looked around.
......Everyone was wearing shoes.
"Pfft."
Sylvia's mocking laugh from behind.
Sylvia strode past with her heels clicking pointedly, and Ifrin's face flushed crimson.
"Th-that was on purpose!"
She hurriedly slipped her shoes back on and dashed after.
In the midst of it, a familiar face and hair caught her eye briefly.
"......Assistant Professor Allen."
"Ifrin. Shoes back on, I see."
Sylvia, seated, remarked. Her plump cheeks seemed full of amusement.
"Ah~? Yeah, sure~ Had fun, did you~? I let you have that one on purpose. You seemed down lately......"
Ifrin puffed up with pride and sat in her assigned seat—next to Sylvia.
Flight 305D, now departing. Please fasten your seatbelts.
The moment the announcement played, Ifrin buckled up. Sylvia, watching closely, sneered.
"You know how to do seatbelts, at least."
"Hmph. I let you have that one on purpose, remember."
Vroooom—
The airship lifted off.
"Eeeeek!"
"What are you doing."
Ifrin instinctively grabbed Sylvia's shoulder. Startled, Sylvia tried to shake her off, but.
Vroooom—
"Eeeeeek."
As the airship shook, Ifrin's grip tightened. Impressive strength. Sylvia flailed to push her away.
"Let go."
"Eeeeek, it's rising. Rising, ugh, eeeeek......"
"Idiot, let go. I said let go."
Ifrin only clung harder, wrapping her arms around Sylvia's waist and pressing her forehead to her shoulder.
"Don't cling, you idiot. You absolute idiot."
"Wait, motion sickness. I'm getting motion sick."
"!"
"Ugh, urk. What's wrong. Allergic or something."
"Motion sickness on an airship. As if, idiot. Oh, no. Don't you dare puke. Puke and you're dead. Dead by my hand...... Ngh."
......Upon arriving at the Training Island, Ifrin and Sylvia were assigned dorms by staff.
No time to sightsee. Night had fallen, blanketing everything in darkness.
"Debutantes Sylvia and Ifrin, room 503. The exam starts in 48 hours—rest until then. Stamp here and deposit in Goro's Mouth outside."
"Yes~"
Opening door 503, Ifrin was stunned.
The room was huge. She'd imagined a university dorm, but this was far larger.
"......Better than my house."
Enormous room with two beds, two desks, two fridges, two bathrooms. One sofa.
Perfectly symmetrical.
Ifrin blankly approached the window.
"Whoa...... Cliff right outside. Clouds too."
Rumble—!
Sudden roar.
Sylvia's magic. She'd erected a wall, dividing the room into two spaces.
"......Figures."
Ifrin was exasperated but understood.
The heartbroken Sylvia needed her alone time.
"Alrighty."
Ifrin unpacked first. Stored Roahawk in the fridge, stuffed chocolate bars and emergency rations in her robe pockets.
Then examined the staff document.
◆ Chief Examiners: Rozerio, Longdalp, Adrienne.
◆ Supervisors: Ropal, Mimic, Rellin, Deculein, Ihelm, Crancia, and 13 others.
◆ Security Chief: Deculein.
Exam footage and reports may be purchased by continental magic towers, floating islands, and families for scouting.
Floating Island assumes no liability for injuries during the exam.
◆ Thumbprint: [ ]
"......No liability whatsoever."
Kinda scary.
Knock knock—
Ifrin startled, whispering.
"Who is it......?"
I have something to give you.
"Ah~"
She opened the door. Kariksel beamed.
"Miss Ifrin...... Quite the unique room. My 2-to-1 setup is different."
"Sylvia's doing."
"Oh ho. So this is Tri-Color magic. Impressive creation talent."
Sylvia had perfectly divided it into two spaces—even two doors. Kariksel admired it.
"But why."
"Ah. Came to give you this."
A cylindrical item. As Ifrin tilted her head, Kariksel explained.
"It's called cup ramen. Popular in the south. Just add seasoning and pour in boiling water. Give one to Miss Sylvia too."
"Ah~ Thanks. Perfect timing, I'm hungry."
"Haha. See you tomorrow!"
Kariksel left, and Ifrin stared blankly at the two cup ramens.
She placed one at Sylvia's door and knocked.
Slam—
Sylvia opened it.
"Hey. Got a gift. Take it."
"......"
Sylvia ignored the ramen and stepped out.
"Where to."
"Goro's Mouth."
"Right."
Ifrin grabbed her document and followed.
Goro's Mouth was in the dorm hallway—a massive black lips sculpture.
Sylvia inserted her document first; Ifrin followed.
Munch munch— Munch munch—
"Haha, it's chewing."
After digesting, Goro's Mouth spat out two orbs—one for each.
"What's this orb."
"Personal communication crystal. Signals security chief in emergencies. Various functions—don't lose it."
A nearby mage explained.
"Ah~ Thanks."
"......"
Ifrin pocketed hers; Sylvia stared at it awhile. Probably because the security chief was that professor.
As Ifrin smiled wryly.
"......?"
At the hall's end, that person appeared again.
Assistant Professor Allen...... no, not quite.
"Looks like him."
Similar, but not Allen. Her chest was impressive. Even under the robe, the jiggle was clear.
Ifrin knew that discomfort well.
Her loose robes weren't coincidence. Tight clothes squeezed her chest uncomfortably, and stares didn't help.
"Oh right, Sylvia. You know what cup ramen is......?"
But Sylvia was gone.
"......So hard to get close. Not a stray cat."
Ifrin sighed and trudged back.
Morning in Yukline County, rattling car.
"Yes."
Vice Minister Lilia Premien replied half-heartedly to the Security Minister's crystal orb.
"Understood."
"I know. Disconnecting."
Click— She cut the connection.
Today's agenda was tricky, as the Minister said: Altiegue suppression at Rohalak Detention Camp. Or rather, a "camp audit" pretext for a Deculein meeting.
"Hm."
Vice Minister Premien hid her Altiegue origins thoroughly, but facing Deculein still tensed her.
"Far from arrival."
"No. Right there."
Peering out, she saw.
🏛 Type: Detention Facility
⚔ Status: Under Construction
📍 Location: Barren Wasteland
A deathly wasteland no different from a desert. In its midst, the detention camp under construction. Premien sneered cynically at it.
"Arrived."
"Yes."
Stepping out, she scanned for Deculein.
"The Professor is over there."
The pure-white knight Julie pointed.
Tall watchtower. Deculein overlooked the camp from atop, suited even in this barren heat.
......That Professor had slain seven of her kin in one night.
Premien felt rage but approached as usual.
"Professor."
Deculein glanced down obliquely, nodding.
"You have arrived."
"Yes. One more guest. You didn't invite him, it seems."
Premien nodded toward her rear. A mage disembarked, approaching.
"Ah, Professor Deculein!"
A stocky but solid man smiled brightly at Deculein.
"It's Betan!"
Betan.
Head of Beorad, who clashed with Deculein over Altiegue at Verhert.
The man who viciously attacked Deculein now beamed innocently.
"Betan."
"Yes, Betan. Last time was a huge misunderstanding. I failed to grasp your grand vision!"
Betan surveyed the camp site contentedly.
"So I came to apologize in person...... What a fine place. Truly splendid."
What was splendid about it.
Premien eyed them coldly.
"......Indeed. A fine place."
Deculein murmured lowly and descended the tower. He asked Premien.
"Vice Minister Premien. I heard Security is auditing the camp. How is it. Not a single imperial fund wasted."
"......"
Premien glanced between Deculein, Betan, and the camp framework.
"Why audit a mere camp. Do as you will, Professor."
Pain stabbed her heart. Lips dried thinking of her kin dying here.
"Of course! No need for audits or permits for such brilliance. Professor, if Beorad's manpower is needed, say the word. Beorad and this Betan stand by Yukline always."
"......Is that so."
Deculein chuckled wryly, reminded of Verhert Betan.
"Well, no audit needed, no need to linger. To Hadekan's restaurant."
"Yes!"
"......Yes."
Energetic Betan versus reluctant Premien.
......
Back in Hadekan, Deculein led them to "Light and Salt" restaurant. The most famed among 3-star spots.
"I should treat, yet. Professor, visit Beorad sometime—I shall repay lavishly."
"......"
Seated Premien eyed Deculein and Betan alternately.
Hell on both sides.
"An honor, Lord."
The manager handed Deculein the menu.
"You decide. My guests."
Deculein yielded graciously.
Premien eyed steak, but Betan spotted something and laughed as if enlightened.
"Hahaha. I see. As expected of Professor Deculein...... You."
"Yes. Speak."
"First, three plates of Rotaili Soup as appetizers."
"......"
Premien's fingers trembled faintly.
Rotaili Soup.
Literally soup made from Rotaili mushrooms.
Rotaili purified demonic energy but was one of three foods Altiegue couldn't eat.
Rare premium ingredient used in antidotes too. Not instantly fatal, but caused external blisters in Altiegue.
Reaction to Rotaili's purification.
"......How about it, Vice Minister Premien."
Betan probed slyly. Premien nodded blankly.
"I dislike mushrooms. All kinds. But premium like Rotaili is tolerable. Good for the body, no."
Voice calm, heart racing.
"Indeed. Quite beneficial."
Betan smiled; Deculein said nothing.
"......"
Coming here was the test from the start.
Premien sat still, driven to a cliff unwittingly. No physical changes allowed.
"Rotaili Soup with basil."
"Haha. Thank you."
Waiter served.
She'd hoped it wouldn't come.
Betan spooned immediately; Deculein elegantly. Premien downed water first.
Deculein, watching, asked.
"You dislike mushrooms greatly."
"Yes. Trauma from eating poisonous ones as a starving country kid."
Betan interjected.
"Vice Minister, it's Rotaili. Pricier than gold by weight. Good for body and exquisite taste. Something new."
"I see."
Premien gripped her spoon, dipped deep, lifted slowly. Thick yellowish soup clung.
Time stretched endlessly.
Drip,
drip,
drip.
Thick yellow liquid dripping from spoon.
Nobles' refined laughter filling the restaurant.
Her pounding heart.
Forced poker face.
......Nearby staff.
Premien used Telekinesis to yank the staff.
"Kyaaak!"
Staff tripped, grabbing the tablecloth—crash! Premien's bowl shattered on the floor.
Gazes converged instantly. Premien sighed inwardly in relief.
"Heavens! What is this!"
"Sorry! So sorry!"
Staff bowed repeatedly.
Deculein set down his spoon, eyeing Premien. Betan caught his gaze, grinned, nodded.
"Enough. Bring more soup."
"Y-yes. Sorry. I'll comp the soup—"
"No."
Deculein halted. Misreading, Betan added.
"Yes. No comp needed, just soup—"
"Enough."
"......Pardon."
"Cease your pettiness."
Deculein glared at Betan.
Frankly, the overreaching Betan annoyed him.
"Vice Minister Premien is my guest."
"Ah...... Yes."
Betan still suspicious but silent. Premien calmly exhaled.
Nobles refocused on meals.
Stabilizing classic music.
Their meal continued in elegant ambiance.
Post-appetizer, mains arrived. Premien sliced garlic steak; Deculein and Betan had deluxe Paranmang fish stew.
"Ah, by chance. Professor also to Training Island."
"Indeed."
"Splendid. Join us. I'll stay awhile too. Chance to see growing mages......"
Betan wagged his tail constantly. Solid but short Betan fawning over tall, imposing Deculein—like a small Doberman performing for a human.
"......"
Premien chewed, suspecting Deculein.
Deculein, genius "Liquor Interpretation" chief professor.
Failed to notice her Telekinesis.
......Pondering, she barely ate—nose, mouth, or otherwise.
Somehow finishing steak, Premien cautiously asked.
"Delicious meal. May I step away briefly."
"Ah yes. Go ahead."
Deculein permitted. Premien rose blankly, headed to restroom.
Gripping sink, stared in mirror.
"......Motion sickness."
Assessing her state, she nodded. Walked to toilet, lifted lid.
Then.
"───!"
Vomited everything.
Undigested steak, wine, greens.
All out, she exited.
"Vice Minister."
......Deculein right there.
Stomach churned again.
He asked dryly.
"Vomiting."
"Yes. Indigestion, it seems. Finished your meal, Professor."
"Betan and I have. Julie's not done yet."
"......Yes. Then I'll head out first."
Premien tried passing, but voice from behind.
"I never knew you hated mushrooms."
"Yes. We haven't dined together often."
"Hm."
Deculein's subtle hum irked. Premien coughed, turned.
He stared piercingly.
"Premien. Do you recall."
"Recall what."
"We met at Verhert. Dined together at Verhert's restaurant."
Premien nodded.
Yes, met at Verhert. Dined together.
But why mention suddenly......
"The menu was mushroom steak."
"......"
......Premien froze solid.
Deculein said no more. Just stared silently.
Cold frozen blue eyes.
Empty ghostly pupils devoid of emotion.
Facing the demon, Premien pondered her life. Life and death.
Brain stalled, head ached. Muscles knotted, heart raced madly.
──But.
Suddenly, Deculein's lips twisted.
Like a smile.
He shrugged, correcting.
"A jest. Who remembers a meal from ages ago."
Thud— His gloved hand on her shoulder. He patted approvingly twice.
"Well done today. I apologize for Betan's rudeness."
"......No need. Take care."
Julie emerged post-meal, panting. Deculein left with her.
"......"
Premien stood motionless awhile.
Walked a few steps down hall, reentered restroom.
Step step.
Casually lifted lid.
"───!"
Once.
"───!"
Twice.
"───!"
Thrice.
Four.
Five.
As many times as she'd pondered life. Until yellowish bile flowed.
"......Hm."
Stood at sink again.
"Better now."
Fingers trembled, but she fixed her disheveled tie in mirror. Restored pallid complexion healthily.
"What did I eat then."
Premien couldn't recall, but someone knew the menu.
No, menus irrelevant now.
"......Face hot."
She washed harshly, nearly dunking her face under running water.