“Quitting. It’s the right decision,” Sel murmured to herself like casting a spell.

But her instincts conjured images of warm cafeteria meals with meat at every meal and the cozy sofa.

‘No. No matter how much this place feels like heaven, I can’t keep hiding my identity forever.’

She swallowed nervously.

Then Philip’s smiling face and an elderly figure flashed in her mind.

‘People meet and part all the time. Just say you’re leaving.’

But her gaze drifted downward again.

Her lips, pressed tightly shut like a clam, couldn’t utter the words in her head.

They didn’t even look like they’d open.

That’s how intimidating the number was.

Sel read and re-read the contract in front of her.

[Salary: 1000 Rubles]

A full two gold coins. Her pay had doubled in just one day—half a day, to be exact.

“It’s a kind of promotion, Sel.”

“Yes, rookie. Quite a shocking offer, a 100% raise.”

Lavi and Eric sat side by side on the library sofa, nodding in unison, as if they’d rehearsed it. Sitting in identical poses, they looked like twins with different faces.

Lavi, who usually slept in late, had come to the library where Sel was staying, early in the morning for once, with Eric and a new contract in hand.

At first, she hadn’t even looked at it.

But when Eric muttered, “A 1000-Ruble salary is an absurd offer in the first place,” Sel’s gaze trembled as though shaken by an earthquake.

The weight of poverty was terrifying.

“What… what does a promotion mean I’ll be doing?”

“You’ll be responsible for both accounting and weapon repairs for the mercenary corps. It’s simple enough work that you can easily manage both.”

“Why are you suddenly handing me accounting?”

“Because you’re good at numbers. Like me.”

Lavi pushed his glasses up his nose with his finger, offering a meaningful smile.

Normally, Lavi didn’t wear glasses, but now he was wearing a pair with thin frames.

‘But sword masters have great vision—why would he need glasses?’

Perplexed, Sel shook herself out of her thoughts and read through the contract once more, glancing sharply at Eric.

She was trying to avoid any hidden traps in the contract.

It would be problematic if, like last time, there was a clause specifying a penalty for breaking the contract.

“Is there something on my face, rookie?”

Eric, smiling with only his mouth, handed her a pen.

It was a silent pressure to sign immediately.

“I was actually thinking of quitting….”

“Yes, Sel, I know you intended to stay here just temporarily. You’ve earned enough, haven’t you?”

Eric leaned in, elbows on his knees, smiling sweetly.

But strangely, the back of her neck prickled.

“It’s just two gold coins, after all.”

Eric tossed the two coins he was holding into the air with an air of indifference, catching and tossing them again.

Sel’s eyes followed the coins each time they rose and fell.

When Eric finally caught them and put them in his pocket, Sel, moving with the speed of a wild boar charging through the forest, grabbed his wrist.

Her tightly shut eyes were trembling ever so slightly.

“Just six months. I’ll stay on for six more months, Eric.”

Eric, hearing her response, exchanged a glance with Lavi.

The two shared a brief, knowing smile.

Everyone has a weak spot, and for Sel, it was money.

Today, her hand was signing her name on the contract, unable to resist the lure of the gleaming gold coins.

After completing the contract, Lavi and Eric left the library and headed up to the fifth floor.

Eric, carefully storing the contract on Lavi’s bookshelf, glanced sideways at Lavi, who was lying on the sofa, seemingly exhausted, and removing his glasses.

“Did you have to discipline anyone today, Lavi?”

“No.”

“Then why were you wearing glasses? You know you scare the team members when they see you like that on the way up.”

Lavi had vision like a wild animal.

Yet, whenever he needed to get physical with someone, he always put on strong prescription glasses.

As the only sword master in the empire, Lavi was cautious about exerting his strength, especially in face-to-face encounters.

Even against an enemy, he aimed to avoid vital points and deal only minimal damage.

Eric couldn’t understand this at all.

Once Lavi had struck them, it was Eric’s job to finish them off.

Of course, this was something he volunteered to do.

But there were times when punishment had to be administered.

In those cases, Lavi wore his glasses.

He’d once explained that with his vision blurred, he could throw punches without worrying about aiming for vital points.

That’s why Lavi wore glasses in such situations.

But the fact that he wore them while drafting a contract with Sel had surprised Eric.

Eric even wondered if Sel had committed theft, assault, harassment, or murder.

The other guild members probably thought the same.

“I just… didn’t feel like seeing her face too clearly.”

Lavi’s words came out oddly.

Eric frowned deeply, confused. *She’s wearing a mask that covers her whole face—what’s there to avoid seeing?*

Lavi, now ready to sleep, sulkily told Eric to leave and slipped under the covers.

Watching the diligent commander turning in with the sun still high in the sky, Eric shook his head.

Seeing the future of the Cavalry Mercenary Guild under such a commander was promising indeed, so Eric unwrapped a strawberry-flavored candy from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.

***

“It’s summer, isn’t that mask hot?” Lavi asked.

“I’m used to it, Commander,” Sel replied.

“Got it. Seems like you’ve gotten pretty close with Choro.”

“Yes. We realized we have a lot in common while talking about magical weapon repairs.”

They both liked using square components in machinery, preferred the weighty feel of manual pistols over magic guns, and favored swords with only the blade tempered.

Sel and Choro had grown close by sharing such conversations whenever they met.

“Choro even offered to buy you a meal for extending your contract. Why did you turn it down?”

“It’s… just a bit too much,” Sel answered.

She liked Choro and Philip.

But she had to remember that with this new contract, she’d eventually have to part ways with them.

For someone like Sel, who knew all too well where she had to return, their kindness felt heavy.

“When we first met, you had no problem eating what I bought you at that restaurant.” Lavi said, tilting his head slightly.

A strange confidence filled his face.

Lavi’s lips twitched upwards, as if he were trying to hold back a grin.

“That’s only because you insisted on having meat, Commander. I remember covering the meal expenses afterward.”

“Oh, right.”

Sel’s curt response quickly pulled Lavi’s mouth back down.

Sel continued quietly repairing the magical machine she was holding.

Even though his business seemed finished, Lavi, who had suddenly shown up in the armory, didn’t leave.

He stayed put, watching her work intently with his green eyes.

For a subordinate, it was rather uncomfortable to have a superior watching so closely.

She gave him a look hinting that he should leave, but Lavi, undeterred, casually pulled a chair from the corner and sat in it backwards, draping his arms over the backrest with an air of ease.

‘Getting stressed will only hurt me,’ Sel thought, treating Lavi as if he were invisible and continuing with her task.

A while later, she glanced around, looking for a tool.

The area where the gears interlocked was bent, and she needed a tool to straighten it.

She scanned the area for a silver pair of pliers shaped like pincers.

She looked through the toolbox, the shelves, and the workbench, but the pliers were nowhere to be found.

Then, she noticed a glint of silver on the high shelf near the ceiling. It was the shelf Choro, who was quite tall, usually used.

With a sigh, Sel looked up at the towering shelf.

She placed a stepping stool down, climbed up, and reached for the shelf.

She rose on her tiptoes, but her arm length wasn’t quite enough.

She glanced subtly at Lavi, sending a hint for help, but he didn’t budge—just watched the situation with amusement.

‘What am I expecting?’

Resigned, she stretched as far as she could, lifting herself on her toes.

Her body wobbled precariously.

Her fingertips brushed against the pliers, pushing them back slightly, and she struggled to pull them closer.

As she reached up, her shirt naturally rode up.

Between the lifted hem of her shirt and her waistband, a glimpse of pale skin appeared.

Lavi’s face, which had been watching Sel’s efforts with mild amusement, suddenly stiffened.

His gaze instinctively fixed there.

Her waist was exceptionally slim, almost like she had a build that resisted gaining weight.

The curve of her waist above her hips lacked any masculine hardness, instead showing a delicate, almost fragile line, and on her pale skin, there was a faintly blue tattoo etched in black letters.

‘Could it be… a tattoo?’

Lavi rose, holding his breath, and approached Sel as if spellbound.

The tattoo, stretching along her hip and side, emitted an odd energy. A faint, white glow flickered along it, then seemed to seep back into her skin, like a seal.

“You… what is this?”

Lavi had drawn so close that his voice, now very low, barely reached her.

Simultaneously, his warm fingers lightly brushed Sel’s side.

Sel flinched, her body reacting instinctively.

She was about to lower her arm, but a pile of tools looked ready to topple if she did. Unable to bring her arm down, she forced herself to answer calmly, trying to fabricate something plausible.

“…It’s a tattoo. It doesn’t mean anything. Just something I…”

“It doesn’t seem like something you’d get. And I’ve never seen those symbols before.”

Lavi’s deep green eyes gleamed sharply.

He prided himself on his intelligence and knew he wouldn’t fail to recognize a familiar script.

Tattoos were usually engraved on slaves or on women who worked in the underworld as a mark of their status.

But this wasn’t a slave’s mark or one of those.

And given its awkward position, it didn’t seem likely that she had applied it herself. He also sensed a strange energy radiating from it. A powerless person like Sel couldn’t have managed something like this.

“I was… just planning to remove it later,” Sel murmured quietly.

Her mother had once told her that when she grew up to be a strong adult and had a family, it would disappear.

At the time, those words had brought her so much happiness.

She’d been full of hope, thinking that maybe, once she was an adult, she might even have a father of her own.

But the harsh reality had taken away her only family.

Now, as an adult who hadn’t grown up strong, this tattoo didn’t seem like it would ever fade.

A wave of sadness, so out of place, washed over her.

“Remove it? Unless it’s a scar, tattoos aren’t easy to erase.”

Lavi, still entranced, traced the tattoo with his finger.

As his finger glided over the tattoo, a tickling, chilling sensation shot up her spine.

Her upper body trembled slightly in response.

The white skin, damp with a light sheen of sweat, seemed to quiver.

Lavi’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, inching up along the tattoo’s path.

His hand moved over the inward curve of her waist, showing no signs of stopping.

The room was warm, yet his touch felt cold against her skin.

At this rate, his hand would reach the bandaged area on her chest.

‘It would be better to just get hurt.’

Sel squeezed her eyes shut, quickly lowered her arms, and yanked her shirt down, ducking her body.

The large tools tumbled down, crashing toward her.

In that instant, her body was pulled away, and she felt a familiar scent close by.

Lavi had drawn her close, encircling her head and waist with his arms.