Chapter 220

“Shouldn’t you rest?”

An unexpected response.

I raised an eyebrow, looking at the speaker.

It was Narce.

‘…Leo’s not doing it, so now Narce is?’

I can feel how much my friends have changed since we first met.

Skeptical and stability-driven Leo now fully trusts me, just as I trust the promises we’ve made. It’s not just about artifacts anymore.

Narce, who seems indifferent on the surface, laughing and watching others do whatever, is now trying to stop me.

Seeing these new sides of people I know as relationships evolve is more interesting than I expected.

As I grinned, Narce furrowed his brows, giving an awkward smile. “You overdid it today. Gotta clean off that egg. It’s all over your hair and face.”

“Oh, obviously. But not now.”

I brushed egg white off Narce’s glove. “I want to wrap this up fast. Help me?”

“……”

Narce gave a faint smile and took my hand.

When I opened my eyes, I was at the militia dormitory.

I entered the white building, heading to the third-year floor.

I knocked on a random door.

“Who… oh.”

A third-year stepped back upon seeing me.

His gaze naturally slid from my crooked hat to my eyes and shoulders.

I’d usually shrug off such scrutiny, but now it made my stomach churn. “Hello, Senior.”

I tried to sound polite, but my soulless voice must’ve shown, as he looked at me, startled again. “Uh, yeah… what’s up?”

“Can I borrow some paper and a pen?”

“Paper…?”

The third-year was thrown by my random request. But as I stared, he quickly grabbed a palm-sized notepad and a fountain pen from inside.

I scribbled a note and handed it to him. “Please.”

He glanced at the note’s surface, nodded, and I headed to the third-year lounge. Other third-years in the hall, seeing my expression and clothes, stepped aside, flustered.

I know they avoided me because my face looked off and, like most students and citizens, they’re not used to the imperial uniform. It’s not the hopeless Pleroma stare from early second-year semester but, ironically, the opposite.

Still, it grated my nerves.

Probably because of that culprit who won’t let me catch them. That’s why I’m hyper-aware of everything yet struggling to focus.

I opened the lounge door.

Thankfully, it was empty.

Feeling free from my senses, I sat on the sofa, staring out the window. A crow glided, wings spread.

The bird’s call from outside scraped at my nerves.

How long had it passed?

Closing my eyes, I waited, and soon no sound reached me.

I could tell my seat wasn’t the same as before.

Creak—

Someone in a black robe, face covered, entered.

“Egg smell.”

“You can tell?”

“Smells fishy—how could I not?”

I came to meet this person.

The only mage I know with transformation abilities and part of a group with space magic surpassing Pleroma’s.

Richthofen lowered the cloth covering his face and removed his robe’s hood, sitting down.

The note I gave the third-year asked Richthofen to use space magic and come to the lounge.

Since the culprit keeps dodging to avoid jail, I’ll use every resource I’ve got.

“Your clothes aren’t yours either. I thought I walked into the wrong place,” he said.

“You’ve got a hell of a nose.”

“I’m a dog.”

What’s with the dog thing…

This guy’s got a self-deprecating sense of humor. Are all Catacombs folks this unfunny? I gave him a deadpan look.

“Haha, that stare stings a bit.”

“Just take the hit.”

He smiled at my blunt reply.

“Now you’re acting more like yourself. What’s with that face? Something happen?”

“Got hit with an egg.”

“Oh? Should’ve been there to see it.”

“……”

I lost my words and just smiled, making him laugh.

Unlike earlier, I double-checked the subtle shift in the air’s Magic Power. Richthofen’s space magic enveloped the room. No matter how much the culprit wants to watch or eavesdrop, they can’t here.

No time for chit-chat—I got to the point. “The egg’s whatever. I’ve got a problem.”

“A problem? Looks like it. Not many in this country hate you enough to throw eggs.”

“You think so? That’s surprising.”

“Being a bit annoying’s different from hating enough to act on it.”

Guess my self-image and others’ differ.

My status window’s Impression score’s been rising, and my survival probability jumped 15% in a month, so things aren’t like before.

Next month, I’m aiming for a 30% boost. If I think of this effort as for that, my fist doesn’t itch as much.

“I’ve got a stalker.”

“What?”

Richthofen froze, then gave an ambiguous look, unsure if he was amused or disbelieving. “A stalker for a New Human…”

“Shocking, right?”

“Not a stalker—maybe an assassin? Imperial mages often face assassination risks.”

Knew he’d say that.

I pulled out the egg-turned-note from my pocket and set it on the table.

Richthofen grimaced at the stench. “Ugh…”

“Don’t dogs like food smells?”

“I’m human.”

“Can’t keep up with you. Just read it.”

He nodded, picking up an unopened note. “…I was thinking, it’d be nice if those pink eyes were inherited. Your Magic Power’s pink, so maybe it’s possible? If my eye color’s inherited, I’d scrap it and keep synthesizing till pink eyes come up.”

“……”

Richthofen froze, then tossed the note like he’d touched something vile. “Yup, that’s something. What is this?”

“Told you, a stalker.”

Uncharacteristically, he studied my face. With his usual lazy smile, he said, “Unique color, huh. People want to be one-of-a-kind. Separately, watch out for Magic Power theft.”

“Unique way to comfort. Anyway, I’ve got a favor. Can you turn into a dog?”

Silence fell again.

I didn’t have the energy for polite buildup, so my flat tone must’ve hit hard.

“…Turn into a dog?”

“I know it’s rude, but I’m asking.”

“Hmm…”

Richthofen laughed, as if hearing something absurd, and scanned me. “Why?”

“Gotta do it, right? How do I know you won’t blow up your core if I don’t?”

“No plans for that.”

“……”

He kept up that sly smile, so I snapped my fingers.

Richthofen flinched, grimacing.

He let out a hollow laugh and stood. “Kinda feels bad.”

“Can’t help that you’re that kind of guy.”

He’s the type who acts only when forced.

In the Catacombs, despite being able to undo the vigilante leader’s near-curse vision-sharing magic, he complied. He led a revolt when he felt things going wrong, but he tends to act under external pressure.

‘Can’t handle the gap between his true self and what’s expected.’

In this case, he knows he *should* hate his animal transformation ability, but his current self doesn’t, creating a disconnect. That’s why he brought up my core, and my denial slowed him down.

Even if he dislikes it, it’s part of him. He knows he can’t live hating the self he’s created, yet he’s trapped.

What can I do?

‘Just give him what he wants.’

“Out of the blue, huh? Your stalker got the same ability?”

“Something like that. A New Human who transformed into an Old Human. Might have other special abilities too. Can’t tell you everything now.”

Richthofen’s eyes widened. “…Transformation?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not the only one.”

After a long silence, he muttered, “They’re lucky. A human-type transformer.”

That’s how he’d take it.

I waited without saying more.

Lost in thought, Richthofen said, “Human-type’s a bit different from me. That okay?”

“Fine. Probably not that different.”

He stomped once. Between closing and opening his eyes, a black dog the size of a wolf stood before me.

No matter how you look at it, it’s a wolf, not a dog. As it approached, I instinctively leaned back. The dog—teasing me?—jumped.

Crash—! Thud—

I knocked over a wooden side table, standing.

For some reason, the dog seemed to be laughing.

I asked, exasperated, “What’re you doing, Senior?”

At that, the dog turned back into a human, flopping down in front of me. “Didn’t know you were scared of dogs.”

“I’m not.”

It’s a wolf—how do you not flinch?

Felt like another world for a second. My instincts screamed to bolt.

Richthofen picked up black dog fur from the floor, blew it away, and asked, “So, good enough?”

“I’ve got questions. Your Magic Power doesn’t feel strong when transformed.”

“I can control it. Like we control it as humans. I can lower it to be indistinguishable from a real animal.”

“Got it.”

I gave a vague reply and asked, “Magic Power consumption?”

“Not much. Varies by person, but if the Investigation Bureau can’t catch them, they probably don’t burn much Magic Power transforming, like me.”

“Figures. Impressive. Do that in front of Elias often.”

“Haha, trying to get me hated?”

He knows?

Elias, who pet and played with him thinking he was a dog, nearly gagged that day. One more time, and their relationship might actually break. Or maybe not.

“Inherited?”

“Nope. If it was, I’d either be proud or have found a fix by now.”

“……”

I nodded, thinking.

Then, snapping my fingers, I asked, “If organ layouts differ between forms, how’s transformation possible? Why does your uniform disappear and reappear?”

“How should I know? But… a magic professor in the Catacombs once gave a possible explanation. It’s like swapping with a being in another world with a synchronized core of the same components. Say this world’s A-world, and there’s a Magic Power-only B-world we can’t know or reach. They coexist, but we only perceive A-world.”

“Right.”

Like not perceiving higher dimensions in a 3D world.

Next to theological claims of divine power, it’s a fairly accepted theory.

“When I turn into a dog, my body goes to B-world, invisible to us, and a dog from B-world comes to A-world. So, the dog’s body doesn’t have Max Richthofen’s genes. Core and consciousness stay, though. That’s why I’m tied to the dog, feeling its senses in this world. Uniform question solved, right?”

“Aha… If the core’s key, can’t you take just part of the dog? Your nose suggests it’s possible.”

“Why take parts?”

“As a dog, you’ve got useful abilities. Like, if you need to identify someone by scent as a human, can’t you just take the dog’s olfactory cells instead of fully transforming?”

He shook his head. “With enough training, you could isolate abilities. But that’s insanely grueling training.”

“…Fair. Still, it’s an amazing ability. Almost invincible. As you said, if you get fatally injured as a dog and revert, your human body’s unscathed, right?”

“Yup. The dog and I are separate entities. Your stalker, being human-type, can use two human bodies. Maybe more.”

Two bodies.

Basically possessing another body from B-world.

What a great ability. Attacks mean nothing.

As their enemy, it’s laughable.

“Weaknesses?”

“Dog weaknesses? Same as any dog. Or humans, for that matter.”

“What about losing the ability or getting stuck mid-transformation?”

I asked pointedly, and his expression shifted.

“…Oh~”

Richthofen laughed, amused yet wary. “If I tell you, what’s in it for me?”

“Leak to the Imperial Times that I’m Nicolaus.”

He stared, smiling silently.

After collecting his thoughts, he said, “I’ll take that as a no-deal. If Magic Power’s depleted mid-transformation, you can’t revert until it’s restored. Think of the principle I explained.”

“Experience?”

“Yeah.”

How? Natural Magic Power depletion’s rare. His life’s a spectacle.

Still, a valuable answer. Rare info that sparks multiple possibilities.

That’s why you hoard resources. Though an ally, if we’d sent Richthofen to another world for spiking our drinks, I wouldn’t have this now. Reckless retaliation’s for amateurs.

I grinned, relieved. “Thanks. That helped.”

“Good. No more questions?”

“Nope.”

“If you meet them, can you let me meet them too?”

“……”

Unexpected, but I get the intent.

He’s hoping to learn how to remove the ability.

For someone who joined the Catacombs as a noble and lived there over a decade to erase his ability, it’s worth interrogating.

“I’ll try.”

“Thanks. I’m off.”

Richthofen stood, then clapped as if remembering something. “Oh, you know your team’s mission changed?”

“What?”

“Eszett. Starting tomorrow, you’re handling Grade 9 berserkers like us.”

News to me.

I raised an eyebrow, and he gave a hollow laugh.

* * *

“Broke a record right after getting berserker duty.”

“They did ten cases today? Not since yesterday?”

“Crazy…”

The next day.

At the militia command center, Ulrike and I trudged in, drenched in sweat. Other team students, clutching random papers, were chattering but shut up when they saw us.

‘Crazy’s right.’

Grade 9 berserkers aren’t tough.

So we paired up, made three teams, and rushed out at every report.

Still, handling three or four cases each in a day was insane.

Today, for favorability, I teamed with Ulrike. She tried pairing me with Leo, but I refused for once.

And luckily, Ulrike gave me 2 more favorability points in the process.

‘Sticking together long’s the best.’

Crises build closeness. We both love using magic, so doing what we enjoy boosts our mood. Ulrike’s sharp combat sense helped us finish smoothly too.

Problem is, I’m still at 7 points.

Need 5 more.

It’d be nice if Heike gave me some, but she hasn’t.

Gotta hang out with her separately.

Before opening the meeting room door where our team was, I held out my hand to Ulrike. “Good work today.”

“You too. Man, we did real work today.”

Grunt work’s still work… so she didn’t like what we did before?

I chuckled at her typical remark. She gave my hand a quick tap.

“Isn’t that what Yulia does to you a lot?”

“Oh, it’s catching.”

“Haha! Yeah, it’s great if we all get closer.”

Ulrike laughed, opening the door.

We were the last to finish, and the team was all there.

Unlike yesterday’s Baden talk, Leo, ever the pro politician, regained his cool. Meaning he stared at us coldly without a greeting.

Elias jumped up, rushing me. “Why’re you so late!”

“We were the last dispatched. Hello, Professor.”

I greeted our homeroom professor, who was here post-ceremony.

He chuckled, accepting the greeting, and explained tomorrow’s schedule.

For the next month, we’ll handle Grade 8–9 berserkers across Berlin and Brandenburg.

But for the opening ceremony, we’ll return to Pentalon’s main stadium for one day.

They still plan to use us for PR. No other special plans.

Now only my new plan remains.

Unlike yesterday, when I overlooked the culprit’s brains, I’ll refine it with lessons from failure and Richthofen’s info.

If they’re scheming to avoid jail, I’ll outsmart them.

It’s just a matter of timing.

To minimize damage, should I wait until just before Pentalon, or act once materials are ready?

But that was pointless worrying, underestimating their madness.

At 4 a.m. that day.

[Plans changed. We’re back to the main stadium starting today. Or, precisely, the Grand Hotel and Imperial Central Hospital.]

“……”

Over the artifact, I heard Leo’s voice, staring at a pink note.

Elias and Narce, awake with me at the estate, froze.

[Sorry. Because of me, you’re stuck with berserker duty… I picked a way to get you back. You’ll have easier work now.]

[Again, really sorry. I mean it. I didn’t want to put you through tough jobs. I’d love to apologize in person, but that’s not possible, right?]

That “way to get me back” was something no one would normally consider.

I pushed the note aside, reading the article beneath.

[Alexanderplatz Grand Hotel: 18 Overseas Athletes Berserk, Dead—9 in ICU]

‘I’d love to apologize in person, but that’s not possible, right?’

Who says it’s not possible? At this point, I’ll make them apologize in person.

Leo’s connection cut off. Elias and Narce shut their artifacts completely.

Leo contacted me privately now. His voice came through my ear.

[Lucas.]

“Yeah.”

Why he reached out to me alone was obvious. No one else would remember this time anyway, but he was thorough.

“Buy me some time. Get the drug I used early December. Check the ledger.”

[Got it.]

Good.

Elias and Narce, noticing I was still connected to Leo, looked at me curiously.

Opening the retry window, I said, “See you later.”

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