IPMPBB 10

Chapter 10

Getting injured, losing the future because of it, living recklessly out of despair—

Strictly speaking, that wasn’t my story.

It was Elia’s.

But accepting the situation and choosing the best possible future from where I stood—that part was mine.

Because that was the wisest choice to avoid death.

> “Did my resolve come across?”

I could see Carlos hesitating, unable to speak easily.

> “Let’s just go to work.”

Once again, I took the lead for Carlos, who had frozen in place.

I was nervous—it was my first time riding a horse—but Elia’s body settled naturally and lightly on the black stallion. Placing my feet in the stirrups and controlling the reins felt like second nature.

Most unbeliever hunts were conducted on horseback.

It was only natural that Elia, who had spent half her life doing that, would be a skilled rider.

> “Let’s go.”

After saying it again, I followed Elia’s faint memories and headed for the 3rd Knight Division Headquarters.

After riding at a brisk pace for about ten minutes, I saw the 3rd Division’s building across the main road.

It was more modest than I expected. However—

> ‘Whoa, it’s pretty big.’

According to the original story, the 3rd Division was the only one open to commoners, so the building was deliberately simple despite being an imperial knight order.

But it had the largest number of members, and the land it occupied was the biggest among the three imperial knight divisions.

“Gasp.”

As I recalled the original lore and approached the headquarters, the guard at the entrance let out a startled breath upon seeing me.

> “C-Captain? What brings you here at this hour…?”

Clearly, he was surprised because of me.

> “W-We didn’t do anything wrong! There’s nothing that should concern you!”

He hadn’t even considered that I was coming in to work—he thought I was here to cause trouble.

I sighed inwardly and looked at the guard and the others gathered around, all from the 3rd Division.

They were all visibly tense, just like him. Some didn’t even bother to hide their hostility.

> “We really didn’t do anything, Captain. We’re innocent…”

> “I get it, so just calm—”

> “Hiiik!”

…Seriously, Elia. What the hell did you do to these people?

Scanning the crowd, I spotted a few key characters from the original story and finally spoke.

> “I’m just reporting for duty.”

> “What?”

> “I said I’m here to work. I know it’s been a while since I showed up on time, but is it really that shocking?”

The guard’s jaw dropped.

> “You came… to work?”

It’s either work or not. “Came to work” sounds oddly ceremonious.

> “Yes. So unless you want to make me late, how about you move aside?”

> “Sorry!”

Snapping out of it, the guard quickly opened the gate.

I rode in slowly, taking in the 3rd Division’s interior.

Carlos and his faction must have put in some effort—the place was clean and orderly. But traces of Elia’s previous rampages were still visible.

Supplies were especially lacking, thanks to Elia squandering the division’s budget on alcohol.

> ‘Oh, Elia…’

My head throbbed as I dismounted in front of the building that housed my office.

Before I could chase down the legendary sword in the gambling den, rescue the sub male lead from the black market, or help my vice-captain Cesare, there was one urgent matter.

> Fixing the division.

There’s no way this place could function properly in its current state.

> “Where’s my nameplate?”

I stood in front of the timekeeping ledger, looking for it.

The guard who had been shocked earlier handed it to me.

I hung the nameplate under the “Present” column and logged my check-in time.

Everyone—including Carlos and the guard—watched as I dutifully completed the process like I was some kind of mythical beast.

> “Will you be heading to your office now?”

> “No.”

Carlos asked just in case, and I answered right away.

His face instantly said, Of course not.

> “I’m going to the Imperial Administration.”

This time, his expression changed drastically.

> “The Administration? What for…?”

He asked warily.

I shrugged to show I had nothing to hide.

> “To make up for the budget I blew. Otherwise, we can’t expect to restore the division.”

Everyone looked shocked again.

While waiting for them to recover, I calmly reviewed what I had to do to get the budget.

At first, I’d considered using Elia’s personal funds—from the Marquisate of Elvington—to cover the deficit.

But that wasn’t allowed.

All budgetary matters were handled by the Imperial Administration, and replenishing it required their formal approval.

Which made sense—if anyone could just patch the budget with private money, it would be total chaos.

However, there was one major obstacle…

> “The Administration won’t welcome us.”

Carlos said flatly.

> “Right.”

I agreed without protest.

> “I threw too many tantrums and smashed their equipment. It’s been over four months since Count Gonnir from the Administration withheld our funds.”

Elia was hated even more at the Administration than here.

Especially by Count Gonnir, who had lost his prized observation device because of her. His grudge ran so deep he ignored even Carlos’ pleas, despite Carlos’ strong standing at court.

> “…Convincing Count Gonnir is impossible. I should go instead.”

Carlos offered reluctantly.

I didn’t argue with him this time either.

> “But it’s not like you have a plan, do you?”

Instead, I pointed out that even he was at a loss.

> “Rather than doing the same thing again, wouldn’t it be better if I went and resolved it myself?”

> “Are you going to apologize?”

He finally asked, his tone dark.

> “Hmm, that would be a good strategy. But no, I’m not.”

I knew why his expression turned grim.

> “If I apologize, that’s the same as the entire 3rd Division bowing down. It might work in the short term, but long term? We’ll lose standing. We’ll look weak.”

Carlos was stunned and blurted out his thoughts.

> “Since when did you care about things like that?”

> “Since yesterday.”

Carlos looked dumbfounded.

So you’re surprised I suddenly started thinking logically. I can see it on your face, Carlos.

Even without him saying it, I could tell.

Elia had always acted impulsively, so the mere fact I made a sensible comment was enough to shock him.

As I watched him, I found myself wanting more than just surprise—I wanted to see admiration in his eyes.

Huh? What’s this feeling…?

While I was still pondering, Carlos spoke.

> “Understood. I’ll take you to the Administration.”

> “But.”

Just as I moved to follow him, he suddenly turned to me and spoke in a low, serious voice.

> “If you pull another stunt, I won’t trust you again.”

His voice was quiet—meant for me alone. In that moment, his eyes gleamed gold before turning back to brown.

The golden eyes of the imperial bloodline.

And the reason he clung so tightly to the 3rd Division.

I recalled the original setting: Carlos was the Emperor’s illegitimate son, desperately trying to reclaim his rightful place.

His obsession with proving his lineage was extreme. In the latter half of the story, he even stormed an unbeliever stronghold on his own.

**> For someone like Carlos to personally escort me to Count Gonnir? That’s a massive gesture.

I should respond in kind.**

> “I understand.”

As he turned to leave, I caught his sleeve and leaned close.

> “Even if it’s just this once… thank you for trusting me.”

I sincerely thanked him.

At that, Carlos’ eyes went wide with surprise.