ARML Side Story 4-3 🍒

Side Story 4-3

Seamus was sinking.

How many drinks had he had already?

“Ugh… ugh…”

It had been an hour since Yuriana Crosswell challenged him to a head-to-head drinking contest. His stomach, hardened by years in bureaucracy, was starting to betray him.

‘Yuriana Crosswell… something’s off about her…!’

She seemed way too normal, as if she’d secretly downed a hangover potion.

Seamus gritted his teeth and kept drinking, determined not to lose. But his mind was already fuzzy.

Yuriana, by contrast, smiled like a little devil despite her dazzling beauty.

“Hohoho.”

She didn’t need a hangover potion. She was just that strong.

Even so, she normally wouldn’t pressure someone else to drink like this.

‘But this time, I have no choice.’

After all, she had her reasons for piling on Seamus.

‘It’s because Layla secretly trusts Seamus Finley.’

It had been the same during that archaeological excavation incident.

[Seamus, thanks to you, we found all our priests. Thanks for helping out in that shabby little temple.]

[…Hmph, it wasn’t that much.]

Seamus had earned Layla’s full trust because of his abilities.

‘Maybe I just want to tease him a little,’ Yuriana thought.

She also wanted to be someone Layla could lean on.

[Need help?]

She had offered, and he wanted to be a friend worthy of that offer.

But just then, the alcohol got the better of Seamus, and his forehead slammed against the rim of the glass.

“Ugh.”

Luckily, the thick glass kept him from toppling over.

Yuriana, however, couldn’t resist a little playful pressure.

“Finley, you’re still going to like Layla, right?”

“Ugh… yeah…”

“Then someday… someday you’ll confess? Even if it’s when you’re old?”

“…”

Seamus went silent. His cheeks were faintly flushed as he struggled to lift his head.

Would there ever be a chance to tell her how he felt?

Even if that chance came…

“…No, I’m not saying.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because… Layla’s… value score is 30,000.”

“Wait. Are you… keeping track of people’s value scores in your head?”

“…But I don’t do that for myself.”

Thunk, thunk.

Seamus tried to lift his head, but the alcohol had other plans—he stayed pressed to the glass.

“That… doesn’t match with Layla… in terms of cost-benefit…”

“Oh?”

“So… I’m not saying anything…”

Slowly, his head slid off the glass and onto the table.

“Layla… deserves the best…”

Those with high value scores should get the best. It was the most rational choice.

‘And I wasn’t that person.’

No matter how much it stung, that was the truth.

With that thought, Seamus finally drifted off to sleep.

…And Yuriana, watching him, clicked her tongue.

“What a funny guy.”

It was amusing enough that he measured value scores in his head, but to describe his feelings for Layla as “she’d be losing out” was even funnier.

“Well, at least he’s being objective about himself.”

Actually, asking him if he’d confess was just a joke.

‘That’s not romance—it’s cheating.’

Unless Carlyle Lupesque was a bad guy, there was no reason to root for Seamus. He was head over heels for his friend, ready to worship every footprint left behind.

Still, she wondered…

‘If our circumstances had been different, what would have happened?’

All three had started as trainees together, but the black magic incident tore them apart too early. They never got a chance to bond.

‘If we’d been assigned to the same team…’

They would’ve formed an unbreakable camaraderie—the way companies make it happen.

‘If I had been closer to Finley…’

Then even though Seamus’s social skills were pathetic, she might have rooted for his genuine feelings toward Layla.

Yuriana let out a bitter laugh and swallowed it down.

“Try being reborn, Finley. Next time, I’ll root for you.”

She raised a toast to the passed-out Seamus.

“Good luck then. Cheers.”

Even though I look like this, I’m the head of the temple.

The miraculously returned saint, remember?

“Yet they call me to fix their hangovers.”

Truly impossible.

Still, I stayed silent, taking in the chaos around me.

Late at night, the emergency summons came from none other than the royal palace.

People were sprawled everywhere, some hugging flower pots and crying. It was a complete mess.

“Uwaaah…”

“Ugh, work can just die. Mom, I quit…”

“This terrible world… I thought graduating from the academy would fix everything!”

All this chaos was my fault.

‘Damn it. That bomb cocktail.’

I hadn’t meant for my bomb cocktail technique to be abused like this.

‘Never would’ve done it! Never!’

So I came here as part of damage control.

Meanwhile, our original heroine met me with a perfectly apologetic expression, completely composed.

“Layla, sorry for calling you at this hour…!”

“Yuriana, are you the only one alive again?”

“Yes!”

Yuriana smiled brightly.

…At first, I’d been shocked watching her drink like that.

“Right, Finley is completely out. Can you help here too?”

As Yuriana said, Seamus was passed out on a corner table.

I could have let him sleep it off, but he’d be miserable with a hangover in the morning.

I slapped Seamus’s shoulder with divine power.

“Hey, hey. Seamus.”

“Ugh…”

“Come on, Seamus, get up.”

I helped him up and couldn’t help but smile.

His hair had grown into a short bob, and his skeletal artifact had expanded. Who’d guess this was a team leader?

‘Though everything else is messy, at least the tie is perfect.’

Back in the day, he was like a socially-deficient animal on the Serengeti, but he’d improved a lot.

Seamus struggled to open his eyes.

“…Layla?”

“Yeah.”

Even half-asleep, he smiled brightly. The first time I’d seen him smile like this.

“Layla.”

“What is it, you drunkard.”

“You’re still wrong.”

“…?”

I raised an eyebrow while helping him with his hangover.

“What do you mean?”

Seamus squinted against the divine power and muttered:

“Something you said before… I hope you’re wrong forever.”

“Wait, what did I say wrong—”

Before I could ask, the prime minister’s excited voice rang out.

“Oh, the saintess has arrived!”

“Ah, hello?”

I flinched. Even as a saint, my reflexes from office life weren’t gone.

And this guy liked office parties…!

“I think I’ve fixed all the hangovers! So I’ll be leaving—”

“Leaving so soon? Come on, everyone, let’s have a drink!”

Ah, damn it.

I was doomed too!

Seamus watched blankly as the prime minister dragged Layla away.

The one he liked would never love him back.

But his answer had always been Layla, and he had no intention of changing it.

So Seamus’s answer would remain blank… forever.

Yuriana sighed and stepped forward.

“Now, let’s go save Layla.”

“…Yeah.”

Even the irritating Yuriana Crosswell had a point there.

Seamus set off to rescue the saint captured by his old superior.

A pleasant end to the year-end party.

And the question-mark reaper and kind-hearted reaper who survived that day would later become legendary.

Seamus’s Story. The End.