Divergent Fates and the Smoke Phantom
Are you doing this on purpose?
At Saintess Ariel's question, the holy knight repeated the report he'd just given.
"Yes! A hijacking terror attack occurred on an airship heading to the Imperial Capital, but fortunately, one of the nobles aboard managed to eliminate every single member of the criminal organization Red Dawn Society, resulting in fewer casualties than expected."
"Ha..."
Ariel clutched her aching head without realizing it at the holy knight's report.
Not many people were hurt. That was truly fortunate.
After all, it meant no lives had been lost in vain.
But.
It's different.
The history Ariel knew was vastly different from this.
The hijacking terror attack on the airship was the same, but everything after diverged.
The nobles inside the airship rose up and attacked the Red Dawn Society.
Cornered, the Red Dawn Society ultimately resorted to their worst option: crashing the airship into the Mage Tower, the empire's tallest building.
The collision between the airship and the Mage Tower.
It caused instant deaths for countless passengers on the airship and collapsed the Mage Tower, leading to an unprecedented number of casualties—the worst terror attack in history.
And because of that terror attack, they couldn't stop the drug Miraz from spreading through the capital.
That was what was supposed to happen.
What the hell.
Returning to a world before its destruction thanks to the power of the holy relic had been a blessing.
But the world she'd returned to wasn't the one she knew.
Places like Crocus Academy she'd never even heard of popped up.
When she tried to preemptively eliminate dangerous figures lurking in the capital's underworld, they were already long dead or missing.
It was a world where something had been added to the one she remembered.
Ariel couldn't hold back the rising sigh and let it out.
They didn't listen to me either.
No, it wasn't just that they didn't listen—whenever she tried to warn about future disasters or events, it felt like causality itself intervened.
When she'd tried to persuade others to prevent various catastrophes before this worst terror incident, her words always seemed distorted in their ears.
So Ariel had resorted to guiding people's actions indirectly.
For example, moving priests to the site in advance to prepare for this terror attack.
I can't talk about the regression, and no one listens when I try to warn about future disasters or events.
The legend of the woman from ancient times favored by the God of Prophecy, cursed so that no one believed her prophecies—surely her heart felt like this.
Ariel thought it every time, but she was keenly aware that the miracle of regression came with quite a few restrictions.
"Hoo... Alright. So who was the one who stopped that terror attack?"
"Ah... Well, it was an heir of the Nebla family."
"Nebla? You don't mean Kaizen, do you? The man with the black hair?"
A man who would later become the head of Nebla but fail to dominate the underworld due to his lack of skill.
That was the information Ariel had on Kaizen.
And he stopped this terror attack?
"No, that's not it. According to the report, it wasn't the black-haired man—it was a man with gray hair... Saintess?"
Again?
Another changed future.
At the holy knight's report, Ariel felt like giving up entirely.
As that sticky sense of helplessness began to envelop her, she gritted her teeth once more.
Grit.
No, no. Was she really going to give up over something like this?
Fine, even if she couldn't use her future knowledge directly.
She could still prepare since she knew disasters were coming.
She hadn't regressed just to throw in the towel at a bit of despair.
With that thought, Ariel shook off the helplessness that had settled over her.
"First, please investigate the Nebla Duke Family heir who stopped this terror attack."
"Investigate?"
Ariel nodded lightly at the holy knight's words.
She needed to know if this was a butterfly effect from her regression or just coincidence.
But she couldn't voice those thoughts directly.
She couldn't speak of it, and even if she forced it through words, letters, or drawings about the regression, causality would intervene.
"Yes. Just my little curiosity."
Ariel hid her true feelings and said as much.
After my conversation with Breck revealed the protagonist candidates corresponding to this world's romance fantasy elements, I entered the small villa he'd prepared.
"Come to think of it."
"Yeah?"
"How do you plan to conduct the investigation?"
"Oh, that?"
As I casually sat in one of the villa's chairs at her question, I pulled out a cigar and a cigar cutter from my pocket.
"Sit down here first. You can't just keep standing."
I offered her a seat, since she looked ready to stand there until I said something.
I lit the neatly cut cigar, and smoke slowly rose from it.
Click.
I puffed on the cigar right away, manipulating the smoke from my mouth to open the villa's window.
With fresh air entering the sealed space through the open window, the cigar smoke began drifting outside bit by bit.
"My ability is surprisingly good for info warfare like this."
I stared at the cigar smoke for a moment, then took another drag, filling my mouth with it.
When I exhaled, the smoke gathered in one spot.
Smoke Clone.
As the straightforward name suggested, it was a clone taking human form.
"Range about 10km. Roughly knight-level strength, and everything it sees and hears comes back to me... Ah, no good."
"Pardon?"
Mist's puzzled voice came as I abruptly cut off after revealing my ability mid-sentence.
I looked at her and continued with a slightly awkward smile.
"You know, right? My other ability."
The one where revealing my abilities or info to the enemy gives me benefits.
I'd opened up completely to Mist at our first meeting, so of course she knew.
Right after the loyalty contract, the first thing I'd forbidden was any mention of my abilities, so no way she'd forgotten.
"But the restriction didn't trigger when explaining this ability..."
The reason the ability wasn't activating was probably this.
"Guess it didn't activate because I don't see you as an enemy, and you don't see me as one."
"..."
"Hmm. I've always only had enemies around me, so I never realized cases like this existed."
I'd planned to reveal the ability to her and boost its output that way.
I gave her a sheepish smile as I said it.
"...Master Abel."
"Yeah...?"
What? Why those eyes again?
She was looking at me with that strange, feverish gaze I'd glimpsed briefly before coming here.
"...Are you doing this on purpose?"
"Doing what?"
On purpose? What? What was I supposed to have done?
All I'd done was not see her as an enemy,
and get flustered because it was my first time with someone like that.
That was it.
What was there to ask if I was doing "on purpose"?
As I stared at her with those thoughts, she, who'd been gazing at me with that odd heat in her eyes, let out a small sigh and returned to normal.
"Hoo... Yes. You wouldn't toy with someone's heart over something like this."
"??"
After that, I asked Mist what she'd meant, but she invoked her right to silence, and it fizzled out.
About three days passed like that.
Benzeta Family.
A minor outfit of about 20 members, dealing in low-grade drugs and scraps from bigger families' smuggling ops.
"Damn it!!"
Gunshots began echoing through their rundown hideout building.
An attack from a rival family?
Or the cops sweeping imperial crime syndicates?
Maybe the rumored purge squad from the Nebla Duke Family wiping out organizations?
No, none of that.
"Godfather! The enemy's too fast—bullets aren't hitting!"
"Damn it! Then spray everywhere!! Gotta hit at least once. Fire, now!"
The family was on the brink of total annihilation by a single intruder.
"How's it so fast! Gahk!"
"Veril! You bastard! Guhk!"
Screams of underlings dropping everywhere.
"Kuhk!"
"Godfather! Run first! Gahk!"
As the last underling urging him to flee collapsed, an eerie silence blanketed the once-rowdy building.
"Damn..."
Thud, thud.
What the hell was that monster? Some mana Awakened or whatever?
Dodging bullets and sending people flying with one punch—did things like that really exist?
Damn, damn, damn!!! What is that monster!!! A knight? Did a knight come?!
The unidentified intruder approached leisurely, like a predator savoring its prey.
Trembling in fear, the Benzeta Family boss aimed his revolver—down to its last bullet—at the intruder.
"Die, you damn monster!"
A desperate scream bordering on frenzy.
A curse-laden attack at the monster who'd toyed with his men like prey.
Thwack.
Did it hit?
Perhaps his desperate wish came true.
The intruder's face, which hadn't taken a single hit until now, snapped back.
The face. It hit the face.
Even a knight couldn't survive a revolver round to the face!
Crunch!
In the euphoria of having felled the intruder, the last sight the boss beheld was—
His own face caving in from the impact.
Beyond the mask flung away by his bullet, the figure of a monster made of smoke.
Damn...