A Senior's Probing Questions
Senior Graf’s current affiliation was the Information Department.
He had spent a long time in the action squad before transferring over when a lucky opportunity came up.
That was why Senior Hartman was so delighted to see him and had cleaned the outpost with such meticulous care.
“Senior, how are things in the Information Department?”
“Chaotic every single day, what else? Sorry about last time. Something urgent suddenly came up.”
“Oh, please don’t apologize! We’re all inside the same Knox estate! Come whenever you like!”
He was referring to the previous promise to visit the outpost and listen to my heroic tale, only to cancel at the last minute.
It had spared me from repeating the same story again, which was a relief, but several seniors who had been excited about seeing Senior Graf after so long had been noticeably disappointed.
The most crestfallen of all had been Senior Hartman.
“Sit here, Senior! And please, tell us about the Information Department!”
“Well… there isn’t much I can talk about openly.”
“Whoa! So cool—classified information!”
Senior Hartman had ambitions of his own.
He hoped to eventually move from the action squad into one of the major departments, and Senior Graf was the man who had already accomplished that.
So of course he had made the senior clean when he normally wouldn’t, and was falling all over himself to make a good impression.
“I heard you even got promoted recently!”
“You have no idea how reassuring it is to have an action-squad senior in the Information Department!”
It wasn’t just Senior Hartman fawning at Graf’s side.
All the veteran squad members with any real years of service had gathered around him.
“The promotion was mostly luck. I’m still scraping the bottom, though.”
When the seniors began their full-blown conversation, I quietly asked Senior Bono.
“Looks like the cleaning’s finished. Is it all right if I step outside?”
“Why not stay and listen? You could jump in and ask whatever you’re curious about.”
“I don’t really have any questions.”
I already knew everything worth knowing about the Knox Information Department.
Besides, Gisela Rot had specifically warned me not to do anything that might draw attention.
Avoiding loud gatherings seemed like the safest choice.
“All right, go on then.”
I gave a polite bow and left the outpost.
Only after settling down in front of the campfire did I finally feel like I could breathe again.
“Maybe I’ll catch a quick nap.”
Just as Gisela Rot had told me to enjoy my last bit of free time, the energy I’d recharged before my shift had been completely spent on cleaning the outpost.
I leaned my head against the tree trunk, and sleep rushed over me as though it had been waiting.
Even then, the noisy chatter from inside the outpost never stopped.
Maybe they were excited by Senior Graf’s visit; everyone’s voices sounded especially loud today.
Those chatty old men.
That was my last thought before I drifted off.
It would have been nice if I could have slept deeply for a long while.
But the moment I woke from my shallow doze, instinct told me that not much time had passed.
And that someone was approaching me.
I kept my eyes closed on purpose and assessed the incoming presence.
Not from the action squad.
If it had been the seniors, they would have bellowed from a distance—“Rookie, you bastard, get up right now!”—before anything else.
They wouldn’t have crept up so quietly.
Still, the technique for muffling footsteps and controlling breath was painfully amateurish.
I judged it wasn’t an immediate threat and pretended to wake naturally.
“Mmm… ow, my back. …Senior Graf?”
I had thought the presence was unfamiliar, but the person approaching me was Graf Muller—the very man who should have been inside the outpost basking in the juniors’ praise.
“Oh? Haha, did I wake you?”
Being caught sleeping on duty by a senior was the kind of situation that would make any low-ranking member’s heart drop—especially someone like Runelk Eins.
“N-no, sir! I only closed my eyes for a second, I swear!”
When I hurriedly tried to stand while making excuses, Graf Muller sat on a nearby log and smiled with a kindly expression.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. No need to stand. Stay seated. Night duty is like that. I’m not even part of the action squad anymore, so who cares?”
He winked, the perfect picture of a generous senior overlooking his junior’s mistake.
“Th-thank you, Senior Graf.”
“Right. You’re Runelk Eins, yes? The one they call the little hero.”
“It’s far too generous a nickname… that somehow stuck. But I really only lent a hand in catching the assassin, so it’s honestly embarrassing.”
“It’s impressive that a young action-squad member helped at all. And from what I heard, your role was bigger than you think?”
He glanced toward the outpost, then whispered playfully.
“This is a secret from the guys inside, but I was actually the one in charge of gathering information for that incident.”
“I-I see.”
“Haha, I got lucky. That’s how I earned the promotion.”
As he spoke, he tapped his chest with a fingertip. Beneath the silver eye emblem of the Information Department were two bars signifying a full regular member.
In the action squad, that was the same rank as Senior Jake.
In other words, until recently he had been a low-ranking member just like me.
Does the Information Department not acknowledge experience from the action squad?
A low-ranking member at what looked like forty years old.
It made me think Graf Muller’s life in the Information Department must be quite grueling.
“The kids call you ‘Rookie,’ so can I call you that too?”
“Of course, Senior.”
“Good. So, Rookie. I heard you got summoned by the higher-ups again recently?”
“…Pardon?”
What was this about?
When I tilted my head in confusion, Graf Muller continued.
“The day you skipped duty. The others said you were called up by someone important.”
“Ah, that day.”
He was talking about the day I had my confrontation with Killian Knox, was dragged off by Dupont Clancher, and became one of the Crows.
I had found it strange that none of the seniors scolded me for not showing up at the outpost, but it seemed they had vaguely covered for me by saying I had been “summoned by a high-ranking person.”
It was a rather lazy excuse.
Then again, at the time Killian Knox had been planning to kill me, so he probably hadn’t bothered crafting a more convincing pretext.
“That’s correct. I visited the main building.”
“My, you’ve been through a lot. Who summoned you?”
“Dupont Clancher.”
There were several reasons I gave Dupont Clancher’s name.
First, telling the truth—that I had met Killian Knox—was impossible. The man was simply too big a figure.
Moreover, on that night, there might have been witnesses who saw me walking with Dupont Clancher before we entered the secret passage from the duke’s office.
And above all, he was the leader of the Crows.
Even if Graf Muller tried to dig deeper after hearing my answer, I believed Dupont Clancher would be able to smooth things over somehow.
At any rate, since he’s in the Information Department, it can’t hurt to be cautious.
Even as I thought that, a bitter smile rose inside me.
The reputation of Graf Muller I had heard from the other seniors was flawless.
Diligent, good-natured, generous to his juniors—so no one envied him for being handpicked by the Information Department and transferring over.
Everyone had genuinely congratulated him, they said.
I didn’t like that I was being so wary of such a senior—especially one I was meeting for the first time today.
“Lord Dupont?”
Graf Muller’s wrinkled eyes widened.
“Rookie, you’re on close terms with Lord Dupont as well?”
“Close terms? No, not at all. I was simply summoned and went.”
I quickly waved both hands in denial.
If I had known this would happen, I should have given a different name!
It had been only this morning that my direct superior warned me to live as quietly as a dead mouse until the “little hero” rumors died down.
When she had threatened that “breaking the rules means death,” I really hadn’t felt much.
But now that I had slipped up unintentionally, just imagining Gisela Rot’s face sent a chill down my spine.
“It seems you’re the one on close terms with him, Senior?”
“Me?”
“You kept calling him ‘Lord Dupont.’ Did I mishear?”
“Haha, did I really?”
Graf Muller trailed off, visibly flustered.
“I work in the main building, so I see his face often coming and going. I must have done it without thinking.”
“Then I suppose that makes sense.”
It really didn’t.
Dupont Clancher stood directly beneath Killian Knox—the highest-ranked among the executives, known as the “First Star.”
And he was calling such a man by name?
Could this senior be a Crow too?
The suspicion flashed through my mind, but I dismissed it just as quickly.
I had only met Gisela Rot so far, but I was certain her fellow Crows wouldn’t be as sloppy as Graf Muller appeared.
So he’s the type who pretends to be close.
Just as the wariness I had mocked myself for was about to shift into real suspicion, Graf Muller delivered the finishing blow.
“So, could you tell me what you talked about with Lord Dupont?”