Tofu Pilgrimage - 1

The long-awaited release. And the prison guard who must have been waiting even more desperately than I was came sprinting from afar.

The way he clung to the iron bars in an instant and frantically worked the lock was almost enough to make a person feel sorry for him. So that was why he had been glancing at the padlock for the past five days. He had not been checking whether it was secure—he had simply wanted to open it as soon as possible.

Sorry.

I felt bad toward other people as well, but toward this guard the guilt ran especially deep. A man who was supposed to present only a strict, solemn, and serious face to the prisoners had been treated by me more like a personal butler.

Honestly, calling him a butler was generous. He had been little better than a manservant. I had not meant to, but I truly was sorry…

"You have worked hard these past days, Chief of the Audit Department."

The moment the door opened the guard bowed so low his head nearly scraped the floor. Even while bowing he thrust both hands forward, returning the belongings he had been keeping for me.

It felt awkward to be told I had "worked hard" by the very man who had just spent five days watching me serve a sentence, yet I could not bring myself to shatter the pure relief shining on his face.

Fine. I had worked hard. If the guard said so, then so it was.

"Thanks to you I was able to pass the time without inconvenience. I will not forget it."

Still, I could not walk away without a word of thanks, so I patted his shoulder a few times. Sorry, and thank you.

"Um, Chief of the Audit Department…"

While I was gathering my things one by one, the guard who had been bent double carefully straightened up.

I looked at him without much thought—and then flinched. His complexion was terrible.

What now?

Strange. Had something else blown up?

But I was being released; what could possibly go wrong now? If someone had come to visit, I could simply walk out and meet them.

Don't tell me it's an extension?

For a moment the thought actually crossed my mind. I half-expected him to say, "His Highness the Crown Prince has ordered that you remain confined a few more days."

Why open the door if it was an extension? Maybe they meant to transfer me to another cell. The Crown Prince's brand of madness could never be predicted.

"A letter has arrived for you, Chief."

Fortunately it was not a karaoke-style time extension.

The guard drew a carefully folded letter from his breast with trembling hands.

"It was sent by His Grace the Duke of Victory."

Ah.

No wonder he was shaking.

The guard held the letter out with a deathly pale face, as though any crease in the paper would crease his own neck along with it.

A quick glance confirmed the Duke of Victory's seal, boldly stamped. It was genuine.

Was this man a traitor in a past life?

Looking at the guard's wretched bureaucratic luck, the suspicion now felt entirely rational. Only someone who had piled up an enormous mountain of karma in a previous existence could attract this level of misfortune.

In a mere five days he had become entangled with three of the five ducal houses. For an ordinary, ordinary prison guard, that was far too great a trial.

…Then again, by that measure I was even worse. If the guard had been a traitor, I must have been the successful sellout who actually brought the country down.

"Right. I have received it."

I took the letter quickly before the paper could become soaked with his sweat.

First butler, now postman. Just how far could a prison guard's dignity fall?

The moment the Duke of Victory's letter left my hands, a deep wave of relief washed over me. When a person is forced to hold something they can never hope to handle, their hands and feet naturally start to shake.

I'm resigning right now.

I could feel the precious texture of the resignation letter I had kept carefully inside my coat. After what had just happened, my mind was made up. There was no need to wait until the end of the shift. No need for any handover, no need for anything.

The moment the Chief of the Audit Department walked out, I was going straight to submit my resignation. This dog's life of a prison guard—no one was going to stop me.

"You there."

While I was already picturing myself settling on a quiet provincial estate with the savings and severance pay I had accumulated, the Chief's voice reached me.

He had already finished reading the letter and was looking at me.

When did he call me?

Had he called several times and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I had only just heard? Thankfully that did not seem to be the case.

If it had been, the Chief of the Audit Department's expression would never have been this calm. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A mere prison guard ignoring his words?

"Yes, Chief of the Audit Department."

"What is your name?"

Or… had I ignored him after all?

The tone was peaceful, yet the content was so chilling that my hands began to tremble again.

Crazy.

The head of the Audit Department itself was asking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for my name. The urge to drop to my knees and beg that I had a wife and children nearly overwhelmed me.

Yet under the Chief's gaze my body refused to move properly.

"I-I…"

For a second I almost gave a false name, but I managed to hold back. A lie would be uncovered immediately and would only bring a heavier punishment.

"Lu… Luciano, sir."

"I see."

The Chief of the Audit Department simply nodded, calm as ever, and I bit my lip.

I had worked so hard to keep a situation like this from ever arising. I had poured my heart and soul into serving him so that I would never touch his temper, never give him the slightest cause for complaint.

Yet from a noble's point of view it must still have been insufficient. No matter how hard a commoner tried, he could never possess a noble's eye for things.

If there was a next life, I wanted to be born a nob—

"Here. Take this."

The Chief suddenly held out a name card.

Was this a show of force—memorize the name of the man who would kill you? If so, it was a truly vicious and terrible act. I thought I finally understood why the Audit Department was so infamous.

Of course I could not let any of that dissatisfaction show on my face. If I did, I might simply exchange a less painful death for a more painful one.

…What is this?

I accepted the card with half-resigned feelings, yet something about it was strange.

"E-excuse me, Chief. If I may ask… what is this?"

I carefully turned the card so he could see the reverse. The blank space that should have been empty was filled with my name and the Chief's signature.

At my reaction the Chief of the Audit Department let out a soft laugh.

"You must have had a hard time these five days. This is the only gift I can give you right now."

The words made even less sense; I could only blink. Avoiding an audit was a blessing, but why was this a gift?

Perhaps collecting name cards was fashionable among nobles? That would make sense. Even among nobles, a card from the Chief of the Audit Department would fetch a handsome price. The fact that my name was written on it was a flaw, though.

"If there is somewhere you wish to go, simply show them this."

Those words finally brought me to my senses.

In front of the empty iron bars I stared blankly down at the card.

"You may show it when something happens, or use it if you desire a different post."

At the Chief's kind explanation I could only keep nodding.

"Even if the work suits you, doing the same thing forever grows dull."

At that I nodded even more vigorously. One of the reasons I had written my resignation without hesitation was precisely the long, endless years of prison-guard life.

A different post.

My hands began to tremble for an entirely different reason.

Who on earth would stay a prison guard for years because they liked it? People stayed because circumstances left them no choice, because there was no better place to go.

But now a master key that made everything possible had been placed in my hand. Not merely a key to a different post, but a key that could open the door to a higher one.

Thank you…!

The same words of gratitude I had spoken earlier—words no one could hear—I repeated again and again inside my heart.

Five days of suffering? I no longer knew what that was. Compared to the grace of the Chief of the Audit Department, such things were no more than a grain of sand, a tiny disturbance.

With a reverent heart I slipped the card into my breast pocket. If I ever lost it I would truly beat the ground and weep—

What the…

The hand that had gone into my coat struck something. Deeply unpleasant. How dare some unknown object occupy the sacred place meant for the name card?

In annoyance I pulled the object out and saw the words "Resignation Letter."

Ugly thing.

A pathetic scrap used only by losers. Something the present me no longer needed in the slightest.

I poured the wretched self of the past into that resignation letter and tore it to pieces. With that, I had defeated myself.

Thanks to the mage the Crown Prince had thoughtfully dispatched ahead of me to the prison gates, I was able to reach the Academy at once.

It felt strange to receive such consideration from the very man who had thrown me into the cell, but since the greater share of the blame for landing there had been mine, I decided to let it pass.

So he keeps his promises.

With a sigh of relief I folded the Duke of Victory's letter and tucked it into my coat.

When I first received the letter I had assumed it was an invitation to meet and had fretted over how to refuse. I had already promised Margeta that I would see her first the moment I was released, so a polite decline would have been necessary.

But that was not the case.

A brief greeting followed immediately by words of comfort.

And, unlike a certain minister who lives somewhere or other, the letter overflowed with genuine consideration.

Was this what a real adult looked like? Then what on earth had the adults I had known until now been?

He had scheduled the meeting rather soon, however.

Come to think of it, the Crown Princess's birthday fell around this time of year. Last year they had held a banquet at roughly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the same season.

It should be fine.

The idea of attending alongside the Crown Prince as a buy-one-get-one-free package with the Crown Princess was still irritating, yet as long as the Crown Princess herself was present there would be no problem. That madman at least refrained from teabagging in front of his wife.

Right after my release the Crown Prince's capacity for provocation would be at its absolute peak. But the Crown Princess, the dedicated suppressor assigned to him, would be there.

Good. I could go without worry.

This will be entertaining.

In fact I would get a front-row seat to the spectacle of the Crown Prince, mouth itching to speak, constantly checking the Crown Princess's expression.

I could not miss that. This was a banquet I would want to attend even if someone told me not to.

…Of course, I would finish cleaning up the aftermath before the weekend. If I returned to the Imperial Capital without putting things in order properly, Margeta would almost certainly grab me and forbid me from going.