The first people we met were an elderly couple approaching their twilight years.

They passionately supported our idea of starting a regional youth newspaper and eagerly answered our questions.

As we left the building and got back into the carriage, I asked,

—”What do you think?”

—”Well, it seems like the culprit might be the next ones. I’m talking about Arvin Asman and Gerda Asman.”

It seems we didn’t find any clues pointing to Pleroma here.

For us, it doesn’t matter whether Pleroma is here or at the next stop.

We arrived at the next house, got off, and knocked on the door again.

“Ah, welcome.”

An elderly man, tall and gaunt, greeted us with a smile.

They were of similar age to the previous couple, but the difference here was that these two were siblings.

Unfortunately, the novel didn’t highlight the relationship between the two Pleromas. Elias only referred to them dismissively as “those with that surname.”

As we entered, we saw another person, draped in a shawl, sitting inside. Based on our research, she was the younger sister.

Although the brother and sister seemed to be of similar age, she appeared to be in much worse health. Despite the brother appearing to be in his mid to late sixties at most, she looked closer to ninety.

As Narce stepped inside, he murmured to me through his divine power.

—”This is strange.”

I glanced at him, and he continued.

—”I don’t sense anything unusual.”

—”…That can’t be right.”

—”I know. Your theory doesn’t seem wrong. I was sure one of these two would be involved.”

A hint of confusion passed over Narce’s face.

If that’s the case, then his insight might have failed…

Or there could be a timing discrepancy with the novel, or maybe things are unfolding differently from how they did in the story.

—”Let’s just get started. Maybe something will come up during the conversation.”

—”…Alright.”

Though he still seemed unconvinced, Narce sat down.

Whatever the case, it wasn’t as though we could simply leave after coming this far.

I needed to draw out the conversation to give Narce a chance to assess them.

“Thank you for agreeing to the interview today. I’m Felix Weitzel, preparing a new youth journalism project that condemns secret police and government censorship of press freedom.”

Narce almost couldn’t suppress a laugh, but after I nudged his elbow, he nodded seriously with a straight face.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Michael Schultz.”

Actually, he had also laughed when we met the first couple.

When we stepped outside, he explained that he couldn’t help but laugh because I’d said something that fit my appearance too perfectly.

The tall man chuckled as he cautiously asked,

“This isn’t dangerous, is it?”

“Not at all. In fact, we’re mostly interested in how the social safety net operates. Of course, our concerns can’t be entirely separated from issues like religion or politics, but I can assure you that this won’t put you in any trouble, sir.”

It was somewhat nonsensical, but fortunately, they laughed lightly and nodded.

“First of all, I heard that you’ve been supporting an orphanage in the Heiligenzi region for quite some time. Could you tell us what led you to do so?”

“It’s been nearly ten years now. As you can see, we have no remaining family other than each other. We were fortunate to succeed in business during the right times, but after our family passed away, we found ourselves with money we had no use for.”

—”War and disease.”

Narce relayed to me what he had gleaned using his ability.

The old man continued,

“Most of our family died from disease, actually. At the time, we couldn’t afford a magical healer, but ironically, we now have the money to call on one many times over. So, after their passing, we began to focus on supporting children in the slums with medical needs, eventually expanding our scope to include orphanages.”

“I see. It must have been a difficult time for you, but I really admire how you’ve turned your efforts into something meaningful.”

“Not at all. It’s the children who grew up well that allowed us to stand back on our feet.”

As I continued the conversation, I steered it toward the topic of children in the orphanage who showed potential in magic, as well as how many benefited from magical healthcare.

About thirty minutes into the conversation, I began to broach slightly more sensitive topics, giving Narce the opportunity to use his ability.

“So, what are your thoughts on magic? Have you ever wished to become a mage yourself?”

For a moment, the two siblings’ gazes sharpened slightly.

Asking a non-mage whether they wish to become one can be a delicate question.

‘It’s not like they can become one just by wishing, and those of the lower class, non-mages, wouldn’t typically have a favorable impression of mages.’

While some struggle daily to make ends meet, others possess powers that allow them to rise to near-divine status, using that costly magic just to change their hair color. It’s enough to make anyone feel resentful.

In a society where magic equals money, the only way for these people to break through the class ceiling and gain magical abilities is to join Pleroma.

Yet most who join end up dying in resurrection experiments, leaving them with virtually no chance.

I watched their expressions as I calmly continued,

“There’s no hidden meaning behind the question. I sometimes wonder if life would be easier if I were a mage. After all, in Prussian lands, there’s notable discrimination in public magical healthcare against those who aren’t of the state religion.”

The old man seemed pleased by this statement and clapped his hands.

“You’re interested in this kind of topic! Indeed. I often wonder what those people are thinking with their actions. It seems we’re of the same mind.”

Even though I’m a mage…

Still, the idea of the state using religion as a basis for public discrimination was shocking to someone with modern Korean sensibilities, so I did share his views on this matter.

After living in the real world for over twenty years, it’s true that my mindset aligns more closely with non-mages than with mages.

“When I was younger, I did envy my mage friends. But… I no longer wish to become a mage.”

“May I ask why?”

“When you become obsessed with something you don’t have, you end up missing out on the happiness you could have had.”

Narce looked at me and nodded.

He hadn’t noticed anything strange about them.

I smiled and asked the sister,

“Thank you for your wise words. Do you feel the same way, ma’am?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair?”

I was asking this to assist Narce, but I meant it sincerely. Even though I’m a mage and from a significantly high-ranking noble family.

The sister, who looked exceptionally old, clasped her trembling hands together and struggled to continue speaking.

“You might have already noticed that our world runs unfairly. And you’re not wrong. You’re seeing things clearly. Mages are handed public offices with ease just because they can wield magic. Yet they’ve never experienced the suffering we’ve gone through, and they’ll never understand lives beyond their comprehension. They often act out in ways that reveal their ignorance.”

She paused to catch her breath.

I waited for her to continue.

“My husband died in a war started by mages. All my children died when they couldn’t receive medical care because the magical healthcare budget was cut by the mayor at the time, a mage who prioritized street aesthetics. How do you think we can keep living in this world without losing our minds?”

“…….”

I stayed silent, waiting.

She stared at me as if trying to pierce through my soul before continuing,

“We begin by acknowledging that we are complete as we are.”

―”…We’ve heard enough. Lucas.”

Even through Narce’s ability, no signs of Pleroma were detected in them.

Their words alone told me exactly what kind of people they were.

Could individuals who believe they can maintain their dignity in this unfair world without becoming mages really fall prey to Pleroma’s temptations?

“I understand perfectly, ma’am. I’ll take your words to heart.”

I said as I looked at them.

“Thank you for your time. Your participation has been very helpful.”

“Don’t mention it. It was quite enjoyable.”

The tall old man laughed heartily as he saw us out.

As soon as we left the house, we caught another carriage and sank into the seats.

‘…No matter how I look at it, these two aren’t connected to Pleroma.’

Of course, the same could be said about the first house we visited.

‘Let’s think this through. Why did we find nothing?’

The most likely explanation is a timing issue.

The events in the novel occur roughly six months to a year from now.

It’s highly unlikely that the novel falsely accused innocent people of being part of Pleroma.

‘Something significant must have happened in that time.’

But even if no one we met was part of Pleroma, there’s still something suspicious.

So far, everything related to Pleroma seems to be playing out differently from the novel.

But Elias hasn’t changed. Not only that, but there have been numerous disappearances in this region over the past year, enough to catch Elias’ attention.

The factors driving Elias to act are the same in both the novel and reality.

In other words, there were more than just three Pleroma members involved.

The novel simply didn’t manage to catch them all.

I pulled the curtain closed and took out the list of benefactors from my bag, handing it to Narce.

Narce scanned the list, muttering,

―”…This is strange. This shouldn’t be happening. Your theory seemed correct.”

With the time left, we visited a few other likely candidates on the list, but none of them were connected to Pleroma either.

Two days later, on Wednesday, we found out why our predictions had been off.

[Carriage Overturns in Northern Heiligenzi – All Passengers Dead]

Narce and I were both left speechless.

Heiligenzi was the region we visited on Monday, where the orphanage was located. All the benefactors we interviewed were residents of this area.

And listed among the deceased were…

Arvin Asman and Gerda Asman, the people we had met just two days earlier.

That evening, I returned to Heiligenzi.

I went back to the house but found it occupied only by people clearing out the belongings of the deceased.

On the third day after the accident, I went back to the house again with Narce, as promised.

Knock, knock—

“Is anyone home?”

No response came from inside.

The neighboring residents had already started watching Narce and me closely.

They likely thought we were after the elderly couple’s inheritance. It was obvious what they must have been thinking.

I knocked on the door once more.

To make matters worse, it started pouring rain. I’d heard the carriage had overturned due to the downpour; it seemed the storm had yet to pass.

‘If the novel’s events are still accurate…’

This is just the beginning.

Or rather, I had witnessed the moment before everything really began.

Click—

“Who’s there?”

I almost stopped breathing in surprise when the door actually opened.

Inside was a young woman I’d never seen before.

‘…Or maybe I have?’

Something about her reminded me of that elderly woman we had met.

I kept my eyes on her face as I spoke,

“…Nice to meet you. I’m Felix Weitzel. If I may ask, what is your name?”

“Who are you here for?”

“We’re with a new local newspaper. You’re welcome to check our credentials if you’d like.”

I handed over the business card we had hastily prepared a few days ago.

“Youth Journalism? I see. So, what brings you here?”

“I’m here to see Ms. Asman. Is she available?”

“Which Asman?”

From the moment I saw her face, an inexplicable sense of déjà vu had been growing, making my heart race. I decided to name just one person.

“I’m here to see Gerda Asman.”

I paused after saying this, suddenly recalling something.

Gerda Asman had told us all her children were dead.

At the same time, the grotesque slogans of Pleroma, promising eternal life and resurrection, began swirling through my mind.

“Are you her daughter?”

I focused all my attention on her expression.

The young woman tilted her head, a curious smile spreading across her face.

“I am Gerda Asman. What do you want?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep