It Seems the Repairs Aren’t Quite Done
The day after I returned to the office and finished all my errands, I was going over the final report and tidying up the loose ends when Adina, posted at the door, told me that someone had come to see me.
“Already?”
The identities of my visitors were obvious. Two aristocratic men in dress uniforms could only be from the Internal Affairs Bureau of the Imperial Court, and the reason they had come all the way out here was probably to conduct a comprehensive evaluation of my performance as Blackmore’s administrator.
That meant everything from how well I governed the territory to the finer points of my conduct as a civil servant.
Of course, I had prepared for today. There was nothing they could realistically pin on me, so I wasn’t particularly worried.
I hadn’t needed to worry in the first place. At least here in Blackmore, I was effectively the king. No matter whom I ordered around or how I ran things, the Imperial Court couldn’t openly interfere so long as I didn’t cross the line.
That was what the authority of a special inspector amounted to.
As long as I kept the few restrictions the Empire had set in mind, there was no reason to flinch at every little thing.
It was basically just a formality, but the reason I was paying such close attention was simple: it was customary. In the end, I was nothing more than a low-ranking civil servant without a powerful backer. Leaving a bad impression would only hurt me, and their assessment of me would almost certainly affect my prospects for promotion later on.
That was why I had organized my report and cleared the approach to the office as soon as I arrived. If I wanted to live that easy, take-it-for-granted civil servant life, I needed to leave them with a favorable impression.
If they came away thinking I was this competent, wouldn’t they value me more and put me in a better post someday?
“Adina.”
“What is it?”
“Bring them here. Politely. And don’t say anything stupid.”
“Me? Sorry, but I can’t show any courtesy to the Imperial Court’s lapdog…”
“Should I call Rudine?”
“...but for your sake, I’ll hold back!”
Adina snapped her head aside and strode out of the office.
That was the effect of the house-training I had done earlier.
I turned back to my desk and straightened up the documents again, then poured the tea I had prepared ahead of time into a cup and hummed lazily to myself.
Nice weather.
Chief Craton of the Internal Affairs Bureau and Arda Merdaile, a senior minister of the Empire, followed the mysterious man leading them through the halls, their expressions taut with tension as they kept watch over their surroundings.
The office itself was clean enough, but what stood out even more was the absurd number of people there.
Roughly twenty, by his estimate?
There were even guards posted at every turn along the way, and what was shocking was this: according to a whisper from one of their escorts, every single one of them was said to be on roughly the same level as a master-class knight of the Order.
Not one or two people, but at least twenty of them—and not just anybody, either, but fighters who ranked among the Empire’s finest, gathered in one place.
And all of that just to serve some lowly civil servant?
To outsiders, the situation was so bizarre it was almost laughable.
When they reached the entrance to the office, Adina, who had been waiting there, looked them up and down with cool, appraising eyes.
“I’m Adina. I’ll escort you to the reception room—no, I’ll guide you in.”
Her pointed ears twitched, and her lustrous silver tail swayed behind her.
Those were not things a human could possibly possess, and the moment they confirmed them, confusion and discomfort rippled across their faces.
It couldn’t be helped.
That was clearly a—
“Beastman...?”
Beastmen.
A warlike race that delighted in struggle and worshiped strength, a closed-off people who never bowed to anyone and generally gathered apart from humans.
And yet one of them was here, in this place, doing what exactly…?
“Minister, that’s not just any beastman.”
“Then explain.”
“A fox beastman. And judging by the white tail and violet pupils... she’s probably from the White Hair Tribe.”
“Did you just say the White Hair Tribe?”
The White Hair Tribe.
One of the three great beastman clans descended from a sacred beast.
Famed for their secret magic built on the tribe’s unique white mana, they were notorious even among beastmen for their hostility toward humans.
Their cohesion was notoriously strong, and so was their aggression, which was why even the Imperial Court avoided rubbing them the wrong way.
“What on earth is the White Hair Tribe doing here?”
“I have no idea.”
They moved forward with dazed expressions.
Then a rumor that had made the social circles of the capital buzz for days suddenly surfaced in one of their minds—the ridiculous claim that Luke Richter was the hidden mastermind behind the Empire.
Just then—
“Please come in.”
Adina opened the door and said it to them.
Inside, they found a handsome boy seated with easy composure, savoring his tea.
His clothes and the room itself had clearly been arranged with formality in mind, yet despite all that careful polish, his face was stiff and unreadable, as if emotion had been scraped clean away.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Luke Richter, appointed as a special inspector.”
“I’m Craton, chief of the Internal Affairs Bureau. This is Minister Arda Merdaile.”
“I’m glad the tea hasn’t gone cold. Please, have a seat.”
His voice was calm and steady.
He sounded perfectly courteous, and yet there was something cold and detached in his tone that made it impossible to let their guard down.
By now, they had no choice but to start picking up on the signs.
The more than twenty master-class fighters who followed him. The conversation that suggested a connection to the White Hair Tribe. Their instincts, sharpened over decades in the Imperial Court, were telling them one thing.
The man in front of them was not an ordinary civil servant.
“May I ask you something directly?”
“Of course. Please, ask anything.”
“Earlier, I saw that the people guarding the office were no ordinary lot. I was told they were your direct subordinates. Is that true?”
“...”
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if weighing something, then nodded.
“That is correct.”
For an instant, the room fell silent.
After that strange pause passed, they spoke again.
“The one who guided us here was a beastman.”
“Did he perhaps behave rudely?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m simply curious how you came to have any connection with the White Hair Tribe.”
“Ah. They’re just a party that joined me along the way.”
“Joined you? The White Hair Tribe... with a human?”
“Yes, somehow.”
Luke let out a sigh and gave a self-mocking smile.
The memory of the time she had torn a hole through the roof while insisting she was protecting the house flashed through his mind.
It was only a fleeting change in expression, but the minister caught it and swallowed hard.
“If your curiosity has been satisfied, shall I begin the report?”
“...Go ahead.”
“First, I’ll give you a detailed report on the progress of the assigned investigation zone.”
Luke rattled off the prepared lines as smoothly as water flowing downhill.
Having lived as a modern man for decades, he had no trouble arranging his notes into a pleasant, polished report.
It was only a formal briefing, after all.
Craton and Arda stared at him with expressions of sheer disbelief as he continued.
Then, partway through the report, Arda cut in with a stunned look on his face.
“Wait. You conquered a labyrinth?”
“Yes.”
“What was it called?”
“Tartazan.”
Luke and Craton met eyes.
Craton let out a hopeless little sigh.
That wasn’t the only thing.
“As for the Shadow Circle, you needn’t worry. I’ve already received confirmation from Grand Lord Arkan that they won’t be holding me responsible any longer.”
“...”
He spoke as if he were personally acquainted with Arkan, the supreme head of that massive organization that divided the continent into four great powers, and there was no way they could keep from groaning inwardly.
“Here is the list of monsters I’ve dealt with so far.”
“...That’s far too many.”
“I’ve had the corpses gathered separately in the back.”
“...”
It was over a hundred.
...He handled all of these?
“You dealt with all these monsters by yourself...?”
“Ah, I do have some friends taking care of the house.”
“...Taking care of the house?”
He lifted one finger and pointed out the window.
The sight waiting there was so astonishing that Craton and Arda could only stare in shock.
The White Hair Tribe beastman from earlier was hurling bolts of terrifying light that seemed ready to rip the soul from your body, incinerating every monster that charged at her.
Beside her, a silver-haired girl flicked a dagger through the air, and a massive line of force tore open the space before her, cutting down the monsters in a single sweep.
The two men watching that scene trembled with complicated expressions.
Luke looked at them and said,
“Is that enough to satisfy your curiosity?”
To them, that question felt chillingly ominous.
They sat there in a daze, choosing their words carefully, when—
Crack.
A sinister sound rang out from the ceiling.
It was because the hole Adina had made earlier while trying to catch a monster had never been repaired properly.
The fracture spread like a spiderweb.
All eyes snapped upward.
And then—
Craaaack—!
Before anyone could even speak, debris from the ceiling came crashing down.
Just as they were about to leap away in panic, they froze.
The tattoo beneath Luke’s right eye had begun to glow blue as he sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.
Then, a moment later—
“———”
He muttered something under his breath.
Hic!
“!!!!”
The falling fragments stopped in midair as if they had been pinned there.
It was as though the space around them had been turned into a vacuum. The sight was so unnatural it was hard to process.
Luke rose from his seat at an unhurried pace.
As casually as if he were out for a stroll, he walked over and plucked the suspended shards from above the two men’s heads.
He set them aside one by one with maddening composure, muttered something else under his breath, and then—
Kwa-gagagagak—!
The rest came crashing down.
The fragments that had filled the air like a dense storm of splinters slammed into the floor all at once.
Only the space where Craton and Arda were standing remained untouched.
“...”
Their faces went pale.
They looked at the seats they had been using, then back at Luke again.
He scratched his head and said,
“I’m sorry. It seems the repairs aren’t quite finished.”
“...”
Then he smiled lightly, as if nothing at all had happened.