Chapter 12
“Why are you acting like that all of a sudden?”
“Seriously? All this time you’ve just been gloomy, pulling curtains and working alone.”
“Why are you suddenly pretending to be a crusader of justice?”
Damn, that hit hard—like a factual punch straight to the bones.
Even amidst this, the part-time worker didn’t look at me and remained silent, as if this awkward situation was nothing unusual.
That attitude… this isn’t the behavior of someone new to society.
Convinced of this internally, I set my lips more firmly and said,
“I just thought it was unfair to scold a new employee on their first day over half a page being torn.”
Arnold, who had been observing neutrally, stepped in.
“Alright, Ishael, if you’re going to handle it, that’s fine. No need to overreact. Let’s go now.”
“Okay, got it.”
I grabbed the part-time worker’s wrist and lightly pulled them along.
“Let’s go to the storage room together.”
Oh, that was a bit forceful.
The kind of force that would earn the highest work evaluation and a solid bonus in my bank account!
Voices whispered behind me, but I didn’t care.
Only incentives mattered!
A house of my own!
The Emperor, disguised as a part-time worker, stared in confusion at Ishael, who had grabbed his wrist.
Manual labor, requiring careful attention, was not suited to him.
Thanks to that, he truly experienced the life of a poor worker in just half a day.
For starters, the supervisors were extremely sensitive.
“Why are your eyes diamond-shaped when you can’t even do your job?!”
…After supposedly working 48 hours straight, they were gripping people like catching rats.
Constant scolding and harassment had pushed people to the brink of explosion.
“People make mistakes sometimes!”
Ishael rescued the Emperor with just a few words.
It was a rescue in a situation he could never have imagined, almost planting a strange sense of admiration.
Even the gloomy hair and thick glasses that might have looked like a broom on the street now seemed somehow appealing.
But I have to judge properly.
He paused, trying to shake off the faint affection building toward Ishael.
As we walked toward the storage room, Ishael suddenly slowed her pace and said brightly,
“Oh, I’m Ishael, as you know, I work as an administrative officer at the Management Bureau.”
The Emperor, having already done background checks, nodded as if he was learning it for the first time.
“I see.”
“…You see?”
“…Yes.”
Perhaps life as a part-timer was originally a bit harsh.
“That’s a rather awkward way of speaking politely.”
“…What?”
Had he guessed my identity?
There’s no way an ordinary person’s instincts are this sharp. Could he be from a terrorist organization?
The Emperor’s brows furrowed, suspicion tightening them further.
“I’ll help you with the storage tasks for a while. We can support each other where one is weak. That’s… what they call teamwork these days.”
“…?”
“Why are you looking so surprised?”
…Damn it.
Helping with the work?
I couldn’t control my expression for a moment.
To be fooled by something like this—the Emperor’s dignity was crumbling.
I must judge without bias. Why does Dylan like this woman? And is there anything suspicious about her?
Just as he was thinking this, Ishael cheerfully asked him,
“Oh, by the way, what’s your name?”
“Ah, F-F-F-Ford…”
“Fo-fo-fo-Ford?”
“Ford. Just Ford.”
Ford.
So my lottery-winning name was Ford.
I swallowed hard and stared at the part-time worker in front of me—Ford.
Definitely not ordinary.
A strange sense of authority made me quietly cheer internally.
“The sword storage is a bit of a walk toward the swordsmanship training hall.”
“Oh, yes.”
“I’ll show you the way.”
I had to explain well so it would reflect on my work evaluation!
I smiled satisfactorily, harboring a bit of hidden intent.
I felt Ford glance at me, but I paid no mind.
As I walked cheerfully, I slowed down at the sign for the Swordsmanship Training Hall.
Could Sir Dylan be here too?
…Why did I care if Sir Dylan was there?
“Oh, the swordsmanship training hall, huh?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose there must be some incredible knights here.”
Ford looked around curiously.
I smiled warmly toward him.
“There are many great knights! Do you know Sir Dylan?”
“Hic—”
What? Why is this man hiccuping all of a sudden?
“He’s a swordsmanship genius. If we’re lucky, we might even see him spar. Want to go watch?”
“Y-yes, let’s go.”
At that moment, Dylan was leaving the swordsmanship training hall.
He had just finished a sparring session.
As he silently inspected his sword, he overheard some vulgar gossip.
“Crazy, I just came from the Knight Management Bureau, and it’s insane.”
“What happened?”
“You know that administrative officer who sometimes helps out at the training hall? The one named Ishael?”
“Ah, the one with the glasses?”
Dylan remained expressionless, checking the blade, but his alertness couldn’t be hidden.
“They apparently had a huge showdown with a rookie part-timer.”
“Eh? Really? That messy-haired, glasses-wearing person had that kind of presence?”
“Yeah!”
“They seemed really quiet.”
“Yeah! I’m telling you, they might even be in a close relationship with that part-timer—some say they’re a couple.”
A sudden silence fell.
Dylan gritted his teeth.
He was bothered.
What was this feeling attempting to dominate his usually calm mind?
“What’s this? Why do I suddenly sense hostility from somewhere?”
“You feel it too?”
“Uh…”
The skilled knights turned their gaze toward the source of the hostile energy.
And there, they saw…
“Sir Dylan?”
“Why that expression…”
A chill, far different from usual, emanated from his red eyes.
“Seems everyone has a lot to say. Shall we spar?”
“Eh?”
“You already did earlier, remember?”
Dylan thrust his sword into the ground.
The knights froze at the sight of Dylan, who looked like a relaxed predator.
“W-what? All of a sudden?”
“Why request a duel under the guise of sparring…?”
But they didn’t even have time to react.
During lunchtime, administrative officers and young ladies passing near the Imperial training grounds had already begun taking their places.
“Wow, what’s going on?”
“Looks like a duel!”
“Is that Sir Dylan?”
Even if it was sudden, refusing a duel or sparring request would be shameful.
Moreover, there were five of them and only one Dylan.
The knights hesitated, asking,
“C-c-could we handle… all at once…?”
A few minutes later, contrary to their foolish confidence, the duel disguised as sparring ended easily.
Dylan coldly looked down at the knights kneeling on the ground, feeling freed from the strange emotion that had gripped him earlier.
I should clean my sword again. Something dirty got on it.
After securing his sword in its sheath, he gave a brief nod toward the medical officer.
Then—
As if by fate—he saw Ishael approaching.
Dylan, concerned about sweat from just finishing sparring, quickly scanned his surroundings.
He couldn’t cleanse his dirty body fully, but he could at least wash his face before bowing formally.
But…
He met her smile, shining brightly like the sun.
Just as he tried to awkwardly lift the corners of his mouth into a smile, he noticed the man walking gloomily beside Ishael.
“Hahaha, Mr. Ford, that’s hilarious!”
“I’ll tell a joke.”
“Disappointed? I’m a needle net. What do office workers love the most? The weekend! This is also hilarious. You’re such a comedy character!”
“…I heard it’s administrative officer humor. I practiced it to get the job and lighten the mood.”
“Wow! Administrative officer jokes!”
Ishael’s pure white smile was directed at the man beside her.
He was probably around 160 cm tall.
Glasses obscured his eyes, but he surely had a gloomy aura.
His face was scarred and rough.
This must be the part-time worker the knights had mentioned.
What is this feeling?
A subtle wave stirred in Dylan’s chest.
For some reason, he wanted to tear this “Ford” apart.
Dylan clenched his fists, grinding his teeth.
“Uh?”
Ishael fixed her gaze toward the training hall.
“Hello!”
At her voice, the unknown part-time worker’s gaze snapped to Dylan.
He froze instinctively.
Dylan knew immediately.
That guy definitely had something to hide.
