Chapter 37

Handing over a handkerchief, Heinrich chided him.

“Jeckart, this is getting difficult. You show up four days late.”

“…….”

“I know you’ve been busy, but still, you have to keep to your schedule. Here, wipe your tears quickly.”

Jeckart stared blankly at the handkerchief for a moment before finally taking it at Heinrich’s urging. As Jeckart wiped his eyes, Heinrich removed the IV needle that had been lodged in his forearm.

“Anything come to mind?”

At the familiar question, Jeckart only shook his head slightly. Heinrich’s wrinkled eyes narrowed at that.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

With a quiet hum, Heinrich’s pale eyes became more contemplative. Jeckart noticed the suspicious glint and asked,

“Why is that?”

“You’ve been different from your usual self.”

“In what way?”

“Well….”

Heinrich hesitated, moving his lips as if in thought, before cautiously asking,

“Who is Edith?”

For a brief moment, a twitch passed through Jeckart’s eyes.

“……How do you know that name?”

“You called it unconsciously earlier. If you don’t remember, it might be someone you had a connection with in the past…”

“No.”

Jeckart composed the expression that had flickered across his face and cut him off mid-sentence.

“She’s someone from the present, related to the target, not from the past.”

“I see.”

Heinrich pursed his lips in disappointment. Jeckart gave a rare bitter smile. After all, he had been working diligently for the past three years—it was only natural for him to feel some regret.

“If I regain my memories, can I return to who I originally was?”

“What do you mean by that? ‘Originally’?”

Frowning in disbelief, Heinrich let out a sigh and continued.

“I think I know what you’re hoping for, but unfortunately, that won’t happen.”

“Meaning there would be no change from now?”

“There will be changes. Memories carry more than you think. Things that can influence your personality—social norms, values, habits, that sort of thing.”

“…….”

“I can’t tell what kind of person you were before losing your memories or what life you lived, but one thing is certain: the person you are now is closer to your ‘original’ self. Right now, your nature is raw, unfiltered by anything else. So don’t be too discouraged. You’ve lost your memories, not yourself.”

“……So, you’re saying all this effort is pointless.”

Jeckart concluded in a flat voice. Despite Heinrich’s intentions, his words sounded rather pessimistic to Jeckart. He had secretly hoped that regaining his memories would allow him to become a normal person with ordinary reasoning again.

Just like in the delusions he had experienced under the previous medication.

Unlike past sessions, today his unconscious mind showed something different. The background was the sea—a beach with white sand. He recognized it: it was Capran, the very place where he had once lifted the veil from that woman’s face. Only this time, the season in the delusion was summer, at sunset.

“Beautiful… really.”

The woman standing beside him spoke suddenly. He assumed she was referring to the pink shimmer on the water, but her gaze was fixed solely on him. So he replied.

“Agreed. You’re the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

Her eyes curved even more prettily, forming a crescent-like smile. At that moment, his heart lost its rhythm, an unusually sensitive reaction for him.

“Edith……”

Jeckart reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She flinched slightly at the touch. Then a familiar impulse surged within him: he wanted to pull her close and hold her tightly.

“Ah, thank you. You’re so kind.”

Oblivious to his feelings, the woman spoke with innocent admiration. Jeckart let out a small laugh. They walked side by side along the sandy shore. The salty wind kept her blonde hair flowing endlessly.

Jeckart pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it. Without any words, she understood his intention and tied her long hair with it. As he mentally recorded the sight of her delicate, pale neck, he felt conflicting emotions—an instinct to leave his mark and a protective urge to guard her.

The first belonged to him, but the latter… he couldn’t tell whose it truly was.

They stayed on the beach until sunset.

Jeckart woke up when the sea had fallen into complete darkness. The handkerchief Heinrich had given him amplified the lingering feeling of the delusion.

He considered it a “delusion” rather than a memory because it all remained vivid in his mind. If it were a true memory, he should have forgotten it upon waking, as had always happened before.

“I should be going now.”

Jeckart got down from the bed. As if remembering, Heinrich called out to him.

“So, you accepted the position of Chief Inspector?”

“…Yes.”

“Good. Well done. You’ll do well. The organization will be grateful too.”

“I didn’t accept it for the organization, exactly.”

“Then?”

“Just personal reasons.”

Heinrich shrugged, as if asking what those were, and turned to clean up the used needles and IV line.

“It’s the same for everyone. Not all act purely for a cause. Sometimes personal feelings outweigh the cause—mercy born of compassion, or vengeance born of anger.”

His voice gradually slowed and paused for a moment, likely as he focused on cleaning.

When he finished, Heinrich looked at Jeckart squarely again. His pale, wrinkled eyes flashed sharply under the bright light.

＊＊＊

“Well, well, Chief Inspector has arrived.”

Marcus greeted with an exaggerated salute when Jeckart appeared. True to his nature as a drinker, he had set up a home bar in the hideout and was sharing drinks with Rachel.

“What brings you to such a humble place…?”

“Keep it down.”

Jeckart said sharply, taking a seat opposite Rachel. She silently poured a drink into his empty glass. Instead of meeting his gaze, she clinked her glass briefly before drinking. Jeckart’s eyes briefly met her lowered eyelids before returning. Her silence left the conversation to the two men.

“They say Commissioner Meyer went mad when he missed Perrel Monty. He blames it on you being promoted to Chief Inspector over him.”

“Interesting.”

Even if Jeckart had caught Perrel Monty this time, the result would have been the same. The position had already been assigned to him.

“Oh, did you hear? The Edith Lindel they caught this time has a child.”

Jeckart’s hand paused as he picked up some jerky, but he soon answered calmly.

“I know.”

He bit into the jerky with a firm jaw, recalling the last image of the child. On the day Edith Lindel was caught, he had gone back along the forest path to the mansion. He couldn’t find the child inside but saw them outside, accompanied by the recently returned Perrel Monty. After a brief hesitation, he left. Even temporarily, as a protector, the resistance was better than the assassins.

“By the way, what’s with this sudden change of mind?”

Marcus’s question cut through his thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“You said you’d never do it. Did your mind suddenly change?”

“Maybe.”

Jeckart gave a vague answer, lifting his glass.

A change of heart? There had been one.

‘……Jeckart.’

Her voice calling his name brought scattered thoughts into focus. That calm, clear tone allowed him to make a wiser choice.

Even if he caused a bloodshed to save the woman, the same thing would soon repeat. She was not someone who would risk her life for false hope.

So…

“What exactly is your plan?”

The voice was hysterical—Rachel’s, who had been avoiding him. Her green eyes stabbed at him. Jeckart smiled faintly.

“Plan?”

“Don’t dodge. You’ve been acting really strange lately, you know?”

“What? I’m just trying to handle things ‘properly,’ as you say.”

“And how exactly do you plan to ‘handle’ things as Chief Inspector?”

Jeckart’s smile disappeared completely, leaving only his eyes fixed on hers. Their contrasting gazes clashed in the air. In the brief, cold silence, his low voice settled firmly.

“To eliminate the Berg Resistance.”

So that she would never again risk her life on vain hope.

“…Completely.”