“Mines? Why… Oh! Oh!”

Lady Mifaro, initially puzzled by the seemingly random question, suddenly widened her eyes.

“Yes! They’re all safe! My goodness! Now that I think about it, I believe I saw the word ‘mine’ on one of the documents that bastard shoved in front of me to sign! I don’t know how I forgot about that until now!”

Raylin sighed in relief at her confirmation—only for her breath to catch at what she said next.

“That bastard was after my wealth too! I should’ve personally ripped his—!”

“My lady! I’ve prepared a gift for you.”

Before a storm of curses could pour down, Raylin quickly changed the subject.

A maid, responding to Raylin’s subtle glance, brought in a box that had been prepared in advance.

The box placed on the table was far from modest in size.

Without saying much, Raylin simply tapped the top of the box with a smile.

Lady Mifaro blinked rapidly before unlocking the latch.

Click.

As the box opened, she gasped.

“Oh my god!”

Inside was a gun designed specifically to fit her hand. It retained the original shape of a firearm but was 1.5 times larger and painted pink—her favorite color, which she had once mentioned in passing.

“The research has progressed a bit, so now it can fire up to six rounds.”

Since the topic was already out, Raylin went on to recount how she had managed to turn the tables on someone who had tried to kill her with a gun in the back alleys.

The nightmares had lasted for days.

No matter how much it was an act of self-defense, the fact that she had taken a life clung to her relentlessly.

The man from that night haunted her dreams.

Even with fatal wounds, he had lunged at her like a zombie, as if he were about to devour her alive.

Raylin had killed him over and over.

But eventually, she would run out of bullets, and his voice, filled with bitter resentment, would thunder around her as he pounced on her.

“You killed me! Me! I’ll make you the same as I am!”

She struggled desperately, but she couldn’t escape the grasp of the already rotting corpse, its limbs dangling grotesquely.

Just as she squeezed her eyes shut, thinking this was truly the end—

Like a lie, the creature that had been trying to drag her into the abyss vanished.

Raylin slowly blinked and looked around.

No one was there, yet she felt strangely at peace, as if someone was holding her tightly, giving her strength.

She could faintly hear the sound of someone whispering as they embraced her.

“It’s over now. You’re safe. As long as I’m here, no one can touch you.”

Only then did Raylin recognize the voice’s owner.

Aiger.

After that night, the nightmares never returned.

Before long, Raylin finished telling her story.

“…That’s how it happened.”

“Wow! So all the bullets we fired weren’t wasted after all!”

“Exactly!”

The two, who shared a rare hobby that few others understood, exchanged a warm moment of camaraderie and burst into laughter simultaneously.

“Whew, I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this. And this gun—it’s so beautiful.”

Lady Mifaro was so overjoyed and flustered that tears welled up in her eyes.

“It’s just… so beautiful.”

She caressed the pink gun as if it were a precious gemstone.

With gemstones from her family’s mines so abundant they could be kicked around like pebbles, it was no surprise that the gun in her hands held more value to her than any jewel.

Lifting her clear, tear-brimmed eyes, she parted her trembling lips.

“I should be the one giving you something in return, but… I was so eager to see you that I didn’t prepare anything properly.”

Raylin gently but firmly shook her head.

“No, the fact that you’ve returned safely is the greatest gift.”

And she truly meant it.

Having her—the living proof of the original story’s destruction—was enough for Raylin.

Of course, since the young lady from Mifaro did not know Raylin’s past life, nor the ability to read others’ thoughts as Raylin could, she was even more emotional.

She stroked the gun affectionately before carefully placing it back into its box. Then, hesitantly, she spoke.

“Um… Lady Greuga.”

Lady Mifaro faltered, trailing off in embarrassment.

Raylin, waiting for her to continue, offered a reassuring, graceful smile—only to widen her eyes at the sudden outburst that followed.

“C-Can I call you by your name?!”

Her voice, slightly shrill from nervousness, was almost comically high-pitched. Her face turned a deep shade of red, as if it were about to burst.

Raylin held back a chuckle, taking the girl’s hand and patting the back of it.

“Of course. May I do the same?”

“Of course! R-Ray… Ray…”

“Raylin, Agnes.”

“Raylin!”

Agnes clasped her hands tightly.

“Thank you, truly.”

The breeze blew gently—it was a perfect day for shooting.

****

A few days before the young lady from Mifaro sought out Lady Greuga

“Are you out of your mind?! Hah! That was a stupid question. If you had any sense, you wouldn’t have even considered leaving during your confinement!”

The early morning air was filled with the furious shouts of Sillion, so sharp and enraged that anyone listening would instinctively shrink back.

“Instead of quietly reflecting on your mistakes, you dared to sneak out…!”

Catherine let the contemptuous voice of the heir pass through one ear and out the other.

Before, she would have at least pretended to listen while cursing him internally. But now, she didn’t even have the energy for that.

Her mind was too tangled.

‘What on earth is going on?’

She had spent the entire night awake, turning the situation over and over in her head, yet she couldn’t come up with even a half-satisfying answer.

“…And in the middle of all this, a gladiator arena? You really have gone completely insane!”

That’s right. Last night, after returning empty-handed from the arena, her now-loyal maid’s report had only deepened her confusion.

“What? Say that again.”

“M-my apologies, but—”

“Forget apologies. Just repeat what you said!”

Already on edge from the fruitless outing, Catherine’s voice naturally sharpened at the absurdity spilling from her maid’s lips.

Of course, the maid, thoroughly intimidated, stammered, which only made Catherine feel even more stifled.

“If you don’t speak properly, you will be punished.”

She hadn’t wanted to resort to this, but wasn’t the rod the best remedy for a disobedient servant?

The maid, catching a glimpse of Catherine’s venomous glare, trembled violently but forced herself to speak as quickly as possible.

“The knight you ordered to be found in the back alley has disappeared, and the woman you told us to keep an eye on is also gone!”

Bang!

No sooner had the maid finished speaking than Catherine slammed the tea table as if she would shatter it, unable to contain her fury.

The maid, who had once been slapped severely by Catherine, was so startled that she hiccupped, then quickly covered her mouth with both hands, fearing she might further upset her mistress.

However, contrary to the maid’s worries, Catherine paid her no attention.

The news she had just heard was far too shocking.

“…Rine! Catherine Sillion! Are you listening?”

A sudden shout from close by yanked her drifting mind back to reality.

“Yes. I apologize.”

“If you’re sorry, then don’t do such things in the first place—!”

Catherine, bowing her head slightly and responding weakly to suppress her brother’s tantrum, once again became lost in her thoughts.

Kertan had disappeared. And so had his younger sister.

The knight who had eloped with the Mifaro lady was also missing.

‘What on earth was going on?’

When she last received word from the knight, he had confirmed that the deal to keep watch over Kertan’s sister was being carried out correctly.

At that point, everything had been going according to plan.

But now, in a single day, everything had vanished like smoke.

Catherine habitually put her thumb in her mouth and bit down.

“What are you doing now?! Have you stooped to such childish behavior?”

She realized her bad habit had resurfaced when her brother exploded at the sight of her biting her nails.

Hurriedly lowering her hand, Catherine bowed her head even deeper, scowling as if she had swallowed something bitter.

“You are utterly…!”

Letting her brother’s incessant nagging and scolding fade into background noise, Catherine deliberated.

The biggest issue right now was how little information she had access to.

Information…

There was a relatively fast and accurate way to obtain intelligence, not only within the empire but also from other nations.

Whether due to narrative convenience or something else, the story never mentioned state-run intelligence organizations like those operated by the imperial family.

As a result, the most capable informant in the original work was found in the back alleys.

Those who dealt in information have always lived under constant threat, whether in history or fiction, and the same holds for the informant in the original novel—he meticulously controls any information about himself.

Few even knew of his existence, let alone his identity.

But Catherine did.

She knew not only his name but also his appearance, past, personality, and what he desired.

Should she go to the back alleys and seek out the informant—yet another fish in Julia’s pond?

But that man only worked for money.

He had no personal weaknesses or desperate desires, solely driven by wealth. He had been introduced as a character obsessed with money until he inevitably fell for the radiant heroine, Julia.