May I Go to the Bathroom?

Piarot and I kept holding hands without letting go, chatting softly about old times to pass the hours.

"So... back then, I was hauling iron ore from the mines to make ends meet."

"That must have been so tough, Evan."

Piarot swallowed a quick breath before answering. But she didn't pry. No questions about when or where. She just stroked the back of my hand with teary eyes.

I gave a wry smile and shook my head. "Eh, that's just how it is for commoners."

I was putting on a wistful front, but inside, I was dying. Fabricating—no, straight-up inventing—childhood memories on the fly was giving me a splitting headache.

That's when it happened.

Clatter—

The door to our cabin slid open, and in came a staff member pushing a snack cart, filling the air with a tantalizing aroma.

Yes! Train rides mean snack carts—that's the unwritten rule!!

My eyes lit up. Last loop, I'd been broke and could only swallow my saliva in envy. But not this time. My wallet was stuffed to bursting.

It was about six and a half hours to our destination, Ostia. We'd left at 10 a.m., so we'd arrive late afternoon at best. Time to grab lunch too—I reached out without hesitation.

Ah, damn it.

My brow furrowed as I scanned the cart.

Why no banana milk?! Isn't banana milk the train ride staple? Goddamn Yankee game!

Swallowing bitter tears inwardly, I settled for a premium sandwich, seasonal fruit, bottled water, and orange juice.

Munch munch.

Piarot held her sandwich in both hands, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel.

"You know... Piarot, you're the cutest when you're eating."

"......!"

She froze mid-bite at my words. Her pale cheeks flushed red like a ripe apple in an instant.

"Ugh... shut up, you idiot. You're staring so much I can't even eat—it's embarrassing."

She ducked her head, and I propped my chin on my hand with a mischievous grin. "Heh heh heh, show me more."

"Ugh, seriously..."

"Ah... jeez..."

A deep sigh drifted from the seats behind us. Sorry, fellow passengers. We're a bit of a corny couple. Blame my low magic resistance.

Like that, amid the saltiness we inflicted on everyone around us, two peaceful hours slipped by. About three hours left until arrival. The lazy afternoon sun was weighing down my eyelids.

"Gah!! Hack!!"

A sudden guttural roar. Thud! The middle-aged passenger in the front seat shot up—then collapsed face-first into the aisle.

"A-Are you okay?!"

Just as a crew member rushed over in shock—

"Bluaaaargh!!!"

"Kyaaaah!!!"

A fountain of red blood erupted from the fallen man's mouth. It wasn't normal vomit. It was a dark crimson clump, like his guts had melted down.

"Grraaagh! Gack! Gack!"

Unable to bear the pain, he clawed at the train floor with both hands. Nails splintered, blood seeped from his fingertips, but he didn't stop.

"P-Poison... in the sand... wich..."

With those final words, his convulsions ceased. His unfocused eyes stared blankly into space.

"......"

Silence. Only the rumbling vibration of the speeding train echoed loudly.

A man had died. Spewing blood, in excruciating agony.

Poison? Murder? Why?

I glanced down at my half-eaten sandwich. Same packaging as the one the dead guy had.

A chill ran down my spine.

"Kyaaaah!!!"

"A m-man died!!"

"Qu-quick!! Call the guards!!"

Screams shattered the silence, turning the cabin into pandemonium. People backed away from the blood-vomiting corpse as far as they could. Panicked crew radioed frantically and rushed in.

Bang—!

Doors at both ends of the cabin slammed open, and uniformed armed soldiers stormed in.

"Everyone stay in place! We're securing the scene!"

With sharp commands, order began to form.

As the chaos died down, a sharp-featured man with a sword at his waist stepped forward.

He casually checked the corpse, then scanned the sandwich remnants with a magitech ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠device brought by a crew member. A red light flashed wildly.

"Venom Root, a highly toxic reagent, has been detected in the sandwich. A deadly poison with 100% fatality."

Silence fell over the cabin like a bucket of ice water.

Security Officer Gail swept his piercing gaze over the passengers. "We need to determine how the poison was introduced."

Then, a pale-faced staff member gripping the cart from behind raised a trembling hand.

"S-Sir."

"Speak."

"These folks... those two... and these people bought from the cart. I was watching it the whole time to prevent theft or freeloaders, so no one else even touched it except the buyers."

The staffer's finger pointed precisely at eight people. And at the end... me and Piarot were included.

"Understood. Deputy, put all sandwich production and sales staff on the suspect list too. Check from the kitchen to the supply chain—everything."

The deputy nodded and left.

"But that's not enough. The poison was found only in the victim's sandwich—one single item. This points less to a production error and more to someone targeting it specifically at the point of sale, or a switcheroo. Therefore, you eight who were closest to the cart are prime suspects."

Gail directed the remaining staff. "Everyone except the eight named can leave after a possessions check. We'll guide you to another car."

They were being dismissed. As non-suspects.

Under the guards' guidance, the unnamed passengers sighed in relief and flowed out like an ebbing tide.

Empty.

The bustling luxury car emptied in a flash. Left behind: one cold corpse. And eight men and women eyeing each other suspiciously.

"......"

"......"

Piarot and I stayed seated. I was floored.

Suspects? Damn it...

It'd been just a week since I'd busted my ass fighting the demon saintess. I thought I'd finally get some rest, but our peaceful honeymoon(?) kicks off as murder suspects?

Coincidence? Everything felt tangled beyond reason.

"You'll all be turned over to the Imperial Investigation Bureau immediately upon detraining. Cooperate until then."

Gail's cold announcement froze the air. The remaining six passengers erupted in protests of innocence and rage.

"I-I didn't kill anyone!! I swear!!"

A young woman turned ashen and sobbed.

"Hey, officer!! What do you take me for?! I'm a viscount from the south! Treating me like a suspect—I'll sue officially!!"

A potbellied nobleman turned red and purple, jabbing his finger.

"Argh, damn it!! I'm rushing for a company deal! No time, and if I'm stuck here, you're taking responsibility?!"

A neurotic-looking merchant glanced at his watch, leg jittering.

Pure chaos. I rubbed my dry face watching it all.

Damn... my peaceful summer vacation.

How did it get this messed up? I'd bolted for a getaway, and now it started with a murder, heading straight to an interrogation room.

"Quiet down! Interrogation begins."

Gail quelled the mood and pulled out a notepad. "One by one: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠name, status, and approximate time you bought from the cart."

He went seat by seat from the front. Soon, it was our turn.

"Name."

"Evan. And this is Piarot Evangeline. Students at the capital academy."

"......Hoo. My apologies."

Gail's pen paused. His brow twitched at "Evangeline" and "academy"—names tied to the recent hero buzz. But he set aside any bias, nodded curtly, and kept writing.

Scratch, scratch.

He cross-checked our statements with the trembling cart staff's ledger, filling his notepad.

Soon, all eight's details and alibis were recorded.

Gail lifted the evidence sandwich wrapper with magitech-gloved hands.

"The item in question is this Premium Ham Sandwich."

He continued gravely. "Venom Root is a lethal poison with no antidote. It reacts with mana in the stomach upon ingestion. Incubation is as short as one hour, no more than two—symptoms appear, leading to death."

"Gasp!!"

"I-I ate one too!! That sandwich!!"

Faces turned ashen. My heart dropped too.

Damn... we ate it too.

I quickly exchanged looks with Piarot. She looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠startled but nodded calmly soon after.

Wait, incubation one to two hours?

We'd started eating shortly after departure. Over two hours ago.

Whew. We're clear.

If ours had poison, we'd be rolling on the floor puking blood like that guy by now. We shared a relieved sigh.

But relief was short-lived. An eerie silence settled.

Gail sensed the oddity too, scanning us sharply. "Anyone else here eat this sandwich?"

"M-Me!!"

"I did too. Here's the wrapper..."

The sobbing woman, the raging noble—hands shot up. I raised mine slowly too.

"We two ate it as well. Same menu."

Looking around, it was chilling: all eight suspects had hands up.

"......"

"All bought and ate the same type from the same cart. Yet only one died..."

Gail stroked his chin, murmuring. "Hmm... so the culprit poisoned just one out of many sandwiches."

"Meaning... they targeted the victim's specifically?"

Another passenger jumped in on my question.

"No, could be random mass murder intent—poison any one, whoever gets it dies!"

"......"

Made sense. Assassin aiming at a target? Or thrill-kill psycho with a grudge against society? Too early to say.

Gail snapped his notepad shut. "Arguing here won't solve it. Upon arrival at Ostia Station, all to the Imperial Investigation Bureau. We'll do full background checks and victim connections there. Cooperate."

His declaration was a death sentence to my summer getaway.

"Ah... we're screwed!! I'm done for! Company'll fire me!!"

The merchant headed to Ostia for a deal clutched his head and slumped to the floor.

I screamed inwardly too. Damn... no way.

Our precious first trip with Piarot. I couldn't waste beach memories filling out reports in a drab cell.

Some way out? Catch the killer here?

But clues were thin.

"......"

No choice? I steeled myself, broke the silence, and shot my hand up.

"Um, Officer."

"What? Confessing?"

Gail's eyes flashed.

"No... not that."

I mustered my most urgent, pitiful expression.

"May I go to the bathroom?"