Chapter 16

In the hidden basement, sealed behind a bookshelf and more discreet than any other place, the four remained silent for a while—Karon, Sasha, Perel, and Edith.

The tense silence was finally broken by Karon.

“Take a look. These are the people I’ve narrowed it down to.”

Karon placed the documents on the table, and Edith quietly looked them over.

Each sheet contained a brief profile.

Karon continued explaining.

“I selected from among the Stifts those who have the same hair and eye color as me. I focused on newcomers who aren’t well-known. Among them… here, this one.”

Karon reached out and pointed to one of the documents laid in front of Edith.

“Groth Günther. He’s from a provincial town, not from Belen, and he’s relatively older for a recruit, so he has no close connections. His build is similar to mine, too.”

As Karon said, the man in the black-and-white photo bore a reasonably similar appearance.

“I’ve already scouted out his residence. I plan to take care of it the night before and infiltrate by assuming his identity.”

Despite Karon’s confident tone, Edith couldn’t shake off the heaviness in her chest.

A long sigh floated over the table.

“…Alright. Please maintain surveillance until the operation begins so there are no last-minute changes.”

“Yes, understood.”

Edith’s gaze shifted to Perel across from her, briefly brushing past Sasha along the way.

Their eyes met, and a stiff smile formed around Sasha’s tense eyes.

She had clearly made an effort, but it couldn’t mask her worry, making the smile all the more painful to see.

Perhaps noticing the heavy atmosphere, Perel, who was next to speak, cleared his throat once before opening his mouth.

“The holy bomb we’ve obtained has an effective radius of around 50 feet. It detonates approximately ten minutes after the trigger is activated.”

“Hmm… the blast radius is smaller than expected, so we’ll need to place it near the stage for certainty. What about its size?”

In response to Edith’s question, Perel lifted his hand and motioned a rough circular shape in the air.

“Like this big?”

“Got it. The auditorium’s scheduled for cleaning over the next two days. It’s the final inspection before the event. I’ll go check if there’s a place to hide something that size. We’ll install it the night before.”

“Understood.”

Finally, Edith unfolded the map she had been sketching bit by bit.

It showed the layout of the city hall.

“I’ve checked multiple times—this route is the best for escape.”

“But didn’t you say we have to pass through a checkpoint there?”

The voice laced with anxiety belonged to Sasha, who had been silent until now.

Edith’s golden eyes blinked slowly in agreement.

“That’s right. It’s directly connected to the back gate, which leads outside. So there’s always a guard stationed there.”

“Then how…”

Edith pointed not at the door but at the outer wall.

At this, not only Sasha but also Karon and Perel frowned.

“You’re saying we should climb over that?”

An eight-foot-high wall?

As everyone stared in disbelief, the corner of Edith’s mouth tilted faintly.

“Come on, we don’t have wings, you know.”

With a soft chuckle, she drew a narrow passage on the map—an outflow grate they had just discovered a few days ago while cleaning the outskirts.

Only then did a few murmurs of understanding escape their lips.

The meeting ended with a final review of the escape route and everyone’s individual tasks.

Everything went smoothly, just as planned after so much preparation.

Edith returned to her room and opened the window.

A cold wind brushed her cheek like a blade.

A hazy sigh slipped between her parted lips.

It was five days before the operation.

***

Zechart sat at his desk, immersed in reading, when he suddenly picked up on a faint sound beyond the door.

The click of the lock disengaging, the creak of the front door opening and closing, then footsteps wandering briefly through the living room before heading toward his study.

His sharp hearing tracked the intruder’s every move without needing to see.

He closed what he’d been reading just before the study door opened.

“…Zechart?”

It was Rachel—he recognized her voice instantly.

With an indifferent expression, he gave her a passing glance before reaching for a random set of papers beside him and flipping through them as if absorbed.

Rachel frowned and walked in, grumbling.

“You could at least look at me when someone walks in.”

“…”

“Are you busy? I came because I have something to ask.”

He remained silent until she reached the front of the desk, then finally raised his head.

Without a word, he held out his hand.

“Give it.”

“Give what?”

“The key.”

“Ah… Zechart, that’s…”

Rachel, who had been glaring at him in annoyance, suddenly averted her gaze.

Her deep green eyes wandered down to the floor, evasive.

Naturally, Zechart wasn’t going to let her off so easily.

“I’m pretty sure I told you not to just walk in here.”

“I thought you weren’t home. You’re usually out at this time.”

“Then that’s even more reason not to come in. I said give me the key.”

“I really won’t do it again…”

“Rachel.”

His voice dropped lower, laced with warning.

In the end, Rachel pulled the key from her pocket and placed it in his open hand.

“Don’t you think you’re being too harsh?”

“Not really.”

“I told you—we weren’t just partners.”

Her protest made Zechart chuckle softly.

Of course he knew.

From the moment he regained consciousness three years ago, Rachel had insisted she was his lover—

deeply in love with him, and even claiming they had promised to marry after fulfilling “the cause.”

He didn’t completely disbelieve her.

That trembling voice that sometimes came back in fragments—he suspected it might be hers.

However.

“I told you already. From now on, we’re just partners.”

Unfortunately for Rachel, Zechart no longer felt anything for her.

That was why he had broken things off without hesitation immediately after being discharged.

Maybe it was because his memories were gone—those first moments when they fell for each other, the kisses and shared nights, all the longing and yearning.

None of it existed for him.

Those moments lived only in Rachel’s words.

What Zechart found most absurd was exactly that.

That emotions could be bound to something as flimsy as memory—it was laughable.

That’s why he had flatly refused when Rachel asked if they could try again.

He had no interest in reviving feelings that shallow.

“What did you want to say?”

Zechart asked as he tucked the confiscated key into a drawer.

Rachel’s green eyes, which had been lingering wistfully on the disappearing key, returned to meet his dark gaze.

With a faintly bitter tone, she said,

“What could someone who’s just a partner possibly have to say? Progress report, obviously.”

“…”

“Have you still not dealt with it?”

Though she asked the question, Rachel didn’t really think he’d be behind.

Zechart always focused fully on orders as soon as he received them.

No one was more efficient than him.

He’d probably already completed the task and just hadn’t told her—he never was one to offer updates unless asked.

But the short reply that followed after a brief pause was completely unexpected.

“Not yet.”

Rachel’s eyes widened.

“Why? It’s been weeks since you were given the mission!”

Zechart’s brow twitched slightly.

“Do I need to explain?”

His response left Rachel speechless.

Sharing mission status was the bare minimum expected from partners.

Their relationship was designed by the organization for mutual oversight and support.

Even if Zechart was notoriously autonomous, he still had an obligation to communicate the basics.

“What do you mean ‘do I need to’? Of course you do.”

Zechart remained expressionless, ignoring her objection—until her gaze began sweeping across the documents on his desk.

“The target moved.”

“Where to?”

“Hasmal. They’ve been moving quietly. Took some time to pinpoint the location.”

“Ah.”

Rachel finally nodded in understanding.

“Well, you could’ve just said that. Not like it was some big secret. So where in Hasmal—”

“I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

Rachel’s lips twisted at the blunt cut-off.

It sounded like a mild answer, but she knew what it really meant.

“Yeah, yeah. Got it. Basically, shut up and leave, right?”

“Roughly.”

“You really are insufferable, you know that?”

Even so, Rachel hovered around him a little longer, stubbornly lingering before finally leaving the study.

Left alone at last, Zechart pulled forward the item he had pushed aside earlier.

“Ha…”

One glance and he sighed again.

It was the diary he had obtained some time ago.