Seems Like I Picked the Wrong One

The moment Camilla realized the information-gathering doll was mine, her face twisted like she'd committed high treason.

"Uh... uh... M-Master's... I broke Master's... uh..."

Camilla looked like she was malfunctioning.

She kept glancing between the doll in her hand and me, her expression as if the world had ended.

Seeing her like this, it was hard to believe this was the same Camilla who'd been deemed worthless even as a slave trader's reject.

'Does she recover fast... or is she really an assassin?'

No matter how I looked at her, she didn't seem like one.

It felt like she'd chosen the wrong profession.

Maybe as a slave, she'd been forced into a job she hated.

'Am I really doubting Camilla like this?'

Her childish behavior, despite her age, might be tied to that.

That thought only amplified my guilt.

Breaking the information-gathering doll wasn't even her fault.

I hadn't warned her, so it was probably inevitable.

The only regrettable part?

'Of all things, why this magic doll?'

The broken one was the magic doll that had been recording ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Florence's conversation.

'That's why the records got lost. I didn't realize it was destroyed...'

Checking the summary from the soul-tracking doll, I got the gist of why Florence had visited and her purpose.

But the final moments before her sudden death were missing.

I'd thought it was a shame, and now it seemed Camilla was the cause.

'Not her fault, though...'

I hadn't shared what Lena and I knew with Camilla.

This was a good chance to fill her in.

Unlike when I first brought her in, her body seemed recovered, and she got along well with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lena, so she'd be fine.

Plus, despite ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feeling bad for her, the minion system made it safe.

Unlike ordinary slave brands, this was a system-certified minion bond.

On top of that, the Soul Resonance Necklace strengthened the minion restraint, so secrets would stay secret.

"Camilla, the truth is..."

I revealed the system messages to her.

Then the item info for her prosthetic arm and leg, and the information-gathering doll, too.

"Camilla, got it?"

Camilla stared blankly at the messages, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

'She can read, at least.'

I was having that irrelevant thought when she finally spoke.

"As expected... heir of Magrid! I knew it! My master's the heir of Magrid? Then I'm the legendary Magrid slave? He-het!"

Her mumbling to herself.

I'd shared my big secret, and her first reaction was nonsense.

"I told you, I don't know anything about Magrid or whatever? Lena, back me up!"

Lena just shrugged.

But she eyed me suspiciously.

Well, she'd only met me as the slave trader's mage, so she had nothing to say.

She didn't know my past.

It felt unfair.

But Camilla raised her hand casually.

"Heh, Master must have a past you don't want to reveal. I get it, heir of Magrid."

"Huh?"

"I'm still an unworthy slave who hasn't earned your full trust! But someday, I'll be the slave you can confide everything in! Until then, I'll serve you with my life!"

She even adopted a ridiculously serious tone.

What was even more absurd was the message updating right then.

'Wait, why Lena?'

Camilla's antics seemed to have shaken Lena unnecessarily.

Lena half-believed I was some Magrid heir now.

This was a headache.

"I'm not an heir... And! You're not a slave, you're a minion? It's a bit different from a slave. I could even release the slave brand now..."

"No no! Absolutely not! What if it backfires and I lose the ancient Magrid tech benefits? No way! Please..."

"Sigh, this isn't ancient tech..."

Releasing the slave brand wouldn't matter anyway.

But Camilla vehemently opposed it.

Talking to her felt like she was leading the conversation.

So I quickly changed the subject.

Since I'd brought it up, time to settle her job too.

"A job? Anything chosen by the heir of Magrid..."

"Mention Magrid again and I release the slave brand?"

"Master! No! No! I won't! Never again!"

It worked great.

This would shut down her nonsense for a while.

"Pick one yourself."

Like with Lena, I shared the job messages.

Camilla scanned them quickly.

Her answer was firm.

"Fanatic! Fanatic! Fanatic! My master is the one and only! Nothing else! Loyalty! Loyalty! I'll devote my life!"

"..."

"I've met guys like that before? Didn't get it then... but now I do! He-het! If I meet one again, I'll apologize... Oh? Can't meet them again..."

Camilla seemed thrilled by the job options.

She was even chattier than usual.

"You don't need to understand."

"Master doesn't have to! This true calling feeling! It rocks! He-het!"

"True calling? Anyway, no Fanatic. Pick something else."

Camilla had a knack for fresh nonsense.

Rejected, she looked dejected.

I sighed deeply.

Just in case, I rechecked the Fanatic description.

On paper, it seemed decent.

Helpful to me, even.

But I couldn't pick based on that for her.

Plus, the system diagnosed her with 'Obsession'.

Making her a Fanatic could be dangerous.

Then Lena spoke up, like she'd remembered something.

"Ah! Theo-nim likes sex slaves..."

"What bullshit!"

"You said it was fine before?"

"Lena-unnie! Sex slave for real? But with my hands like this, is it okay? If even someone like me is fine..."

I bonked both their heads.

"Camilla, this is your job choice. Focus. Lena, no weird talk. Got ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it?"

"Hiiing, got it."

"Yes, sorry."

We needed to pick a job fast.

The longer this dragged, the more I lost.

Then Lena seemed to find a good one.

"Theo-nim! How about Shadow Guardian?"

"Shadow Guardian?"

It sounded promising among the options.

Anything without Fanatic, sex slave, or test subject vibes would do.

Not bad at all.

Camilla's expression didn't change, but her lips twitched upward.

She liked it too.

"Then we'll go with that."

Camilla nodded.

Her cheeks flushed; she was excited.

'Camilla as Shadow Guardian.'

Like with Lena, a flash of light flickered briefly.

Then the messages appeared.

I couldn't help but smile at the messages.

As expected, some of Camilla's abilities were shared with me.

'Dark Materialization?'

A cryptic name, but I had a living manual named Camilla.

Without a word from me, she tested her new powers right away.

"Master, look at this!"

"Master, look at this!"

Camilla's voice came from front and back at once.

"Huh? What?"

My sense of direction twisted.

Camilla in front, and another right behind me.

Seemed like clones.

But I could easily spot the real one.

Doesn't work on the master, apparently.

"When did you move?"

"I didn't move! Look!"

"...Isn't this enhanced assassination? Feels like we picked wrong."

Her clone sank into my shadow.

Then popped out again.

They swapped places, multiplying.

Disorienting chaos.

Even knowing her powers beforehand, it was dizzying.

Then—

Papapapak—

Simple throwing weapons formed from the shadows and flew instantly.

The shadow projectiles embedded in the wall.

"Theo-nim! It's tough!"

"He-het! This power's influenced by Master! Like when you made my limbs? Cool, right?"

"Camilla, doesn't this vanish?"

"Lena-unnie, of course not! It's a shadow?"

The thrown shadow faded into the air, vanishing without trace.

Seeing it, I sighed.

The perfect assassin's tool.

Shapes freely morphable too.

I'd tried stripping her assassin nature, but it only got stronger.

Still.

'Shadow weapons? Will this share too?'

It was shared with me.

Testing later could yield fun weapons.

Plus, the other shared ability.

This one seemed useful.

Not full immunity, but no dying to petty poisons.

'Shared abilities influence each other?'

The thought crossed my mind, but I dismissed it.

Couldn't easily judge system gifts.

Predicting arbitrarily often led to disaster.

In my hunter days, those who assumed died first.

No plans for that mistake.

Camilla kept testing her new powers.

Lena watched in fascination.

I approached Lena quietly.

"Lena, Florence came by."

Lena's face darkened at Florence's name.

She pleaded desperately.

"Theo-nim! I don't want to go back! Please... if I do, I'll..."

She was misunderstanding.

I explained today's events.

Lena's expression turned complex.

Not joy, not relief—something in between.