The Emperor's Spoon
Creak.
As he worked to calm his racing heartbeat, the door opened and Nadia... no, it wasn't Nadia. It was a tavern employee who entered.
"I'll prepare your meal."
"Pardon...?"
The employee began laying out steak, seafood, and all sorts of dishes on the table.
"I don't remember ordering anything."
"You can't leave a tavern on an empty stomach, sir. We've prepared our finest dishes—please enjoy."
The employee spoke kindly with a smile.
Of course, this guy's definitely with Besnia. Can't let my guard down.
"Uh... thanks, looks delicious."
"Enjoy your meal."
The employee flashed one last smile before leaving the room.
"Hm."
Perfectly grilled steak, seafood, salad, soup, and more. Every dish looked appetizing, but he couldn't bring himself to touch them.
There could be poison in them.
Think about it—a free meal out of nowhere. Suspicious as hell.
But on second thought, if they wanted me dead, why bother with food? They could've just killed me outright.
The safest option was not to eat at all. But ignoring the effort someone went through to prepare it... that would be rude by any standard.
Wait, that's right—I've got that.
Did desperation sharpen his mind? A way out of this situation suddenly flashed in his head.
Did I pack it?
He rummaged through his bag, stuffed with all sorts of odds and ends.
"Damn, didn't pack... wait, found it."
Just as he was about to give up, a miracle: a spoon buried at the bottom of the bag caught his eye.
One might ask why he had a spoon in his bag or what good it would do.
But this wasn't just any spoon.
How much did I pay...? 150 points, I think.
The Emperor's Spoon, a pointless purchase at the time—like throwing points into the void.
Just hold it near food, and it would reveal any harmful poison.
It works reliably, but it's such a hassle to use.
Having to carry it to every meal, wash it after... no wonder it ended up at the bottom of his bag.
Plus, who's gonna poison me in the army anyway?
Poisoning mass meals was terrorism-level stuff, and he hadn't made enemies that deep among the troops.
Pathetically, the spoon had barely seen use—fewer times than fingers on one hand.
"Might as well make it useful now."
He wiped the handle with a napkin and scooped some soup.
Hm.
No color change on the spoon.
That meant it was safe.
Soup's good, at least.
Not the cleanest after just a napkin wipe, but he shoved it in his mouth anyway.
Crunch crunch.
Rich mushroom flavor burst through. Better than expected—exceptional, even.
This is good.
No average cook could produce this.
Steak next.
He sliced it with a knife, then tested with the spoon.
Safe too.
No reaction. Looked like it really was just hospitality.
Yeah, no reason for them to go to this trouble to poison me.
He'd eaten about three bites of steak when the door opened again—Nadia had returned.
"I told them to prepare something, but they brought it already. Is it to your taste?"
"Yes, it's excellent. It didn't used to be this good."
He knew from eating here with Eden before.
Not bad before, but this is on another level.
Exaggerating a bit, it was like the difference between a local diner and a Michelin one-star.
"We tone it down on purpose. Can't have rumors drawing crowds."
"Makes sense."
Yeah, their business wasn't food—it was info trading.
"Here's the document on the promised intel. Take a look. Ask if anything's unclear."
She handed him a scroll-like tube.
This is it.
He steadied his breath, opened the lid, and pulled out the paper.
• Reconnaissance Command agent approached Tems Oclo (who sought Palan Oclo's assassination) under false identity. Purpose confirmed: secure Oclo Trading Company's military food supply contracts.
• Reconnaissance Command plan: assassinate Palan Oclo during Rimir Castle battle. Plan failed; priority now greatly reduced.
The title was no surprise, but the unexpected name right at the top was.
Why the hell is my brother's name here?
Sure, the guy hated him, but ties to Reconnaissance Command? That was another level.
Was he a traitor all along?
Given his self-interest and position, it was plausible.
But the contents painted a different picture.
This bastard.
So it wasn't because of anything he'd done—it was a bargaining chip to get into the food supply business.
"My brother tried to have me killed."
"He commissioned several assassination guilds. All refused once they learned you're military. That's when we stepped in."
"Does he know you're with the Aditz Empire?"
"Doubt it. Only he'd know for sure."
"Haa, what a mess."
He sighed, setting the report down.
Didn't expect actual hit contracts.
How much hate does it take to do that? Made him glimpse the depths of human depravity.
"Can I take this?"
"Sure. But if anyone sees the Besnia seal, it could be trouble for you—not us."
Yeah, flashing a Besnia-stamped report would be disastrous.
"Then shred it here."
"We offer storage too. Five gold a month—interested?"
"No thanks."
He shook his head without a second thought at the insane price.
They really gouge the rich.
Money must be easy.
"Understood. Just know the option's there if you need it later."
She tucked the paper back into the tube and pocketed it.
"Oh, and Yorn said he'd give extra info if delivered quick. What's that?"
The reason she'd rushed over right after he arrived: service.
"Right. Simple thing—your brother recently bought odorless poison grass."
"Odorless poison grass...?"
"As the name says, nearly scentless. Even a small dose paralyzes nerves, leads to death. Watch your food, especially."
Casual for her, terrifying for him.
And I'm having dinner with him tonight.
Felt like a lamb to slaughter.
"I'm in deep shit, huh."
"Yep. Army's probably safest for you now, Captain."
Couldn't get more depressing.
"This is just great."
"We could do more business, though."
"Business? Like what?"
After that intel, he fully got why Eden dealt with them.
These guys are the real deal.
Overwhelming scale and reach. No one on the continent could match them—except maybe the Empire itself.
And why they stayed in the shadows? Simple.
"We'll eliminate Tems Oclo for you. Carriage accident? How's that sound?"
"My brother...?"
"A brother who tries to kill you? That's no kin—it's a beast."
Couldn't argue. His head nodded on autopilot.
Eliminate him, huh.
Tempting, no lie.
But conscience reared up again.
This is murder.
Not just any—ten years minimum back home.
Though he put the hit on me first, so self-defense... kinda.
Mulling it over like he'd swallowed a hundred sweet potatoes. What a sucker—what an idiot.
Haa.
Torn on crossing that blurry moral line.
Luckily—or not—no need to decide.
"Payment's the antidote source or recipe. Fair deal?"
"Sorry, but no."
"Pardon...? Think it over. Our hits are flawless—you won't be implicated."
Her composure cracked slightly, unprepared for rejection.
"I know. But I can't share antidote details. And assassination doesn't sit right."
"Hmm, fair enough. Curiosity piqued, but I'll drop it."
She backed off, visibly disappointed.
"Thanks for the offer anyway. I'll handle Tems myself."
"Offer stands anytime."
"Got it. Will do."
He nodded flatly.
"Heehee, you're fun. Anything else on your mind?"
"Not free, I assume?"
"Besnia's only freebie is a flower on a corpse."
Her sly smile sent chills down his spine.
"Nothing now. I'll come if I think of something."
"Take your time. I've got a schedule—finish eating. Won't get peace at home now."
"Ahem, sure."
Nadia bowed and left.
Suffocating.
No ordinary folks.
Odorless poison grass.
He'd carry the spoon everywhere at the mansion.
"Couldn't commission the hit, but gotta deal with him anyway."
Knowing the guy wanted him dead? Couldn't just let it slide.