Chapter 119: Story (2) (1/2)

“…Sylvia currently resides on the island she created.”

The base of the [Sylvia Surveillance Team] established by the Intelligence Bureau in coordination with the Security Bureau was an ordinary house. One of the red brick complexes on Beijin Street where the Imperium bureaucrats lived. Its interior and furnishings were also extremely common-place, matching the outside.

“There is a mansion under her family name on the Floating Island, but it appears that she doesn’t visit them often.”

I sat on the couch in the living room and glanced at the surveillance team. The Deputy Chief of Public Security Lilia Primienne and the intelligence agency Named member Lukehall. In addition to these two, there were six agents said to be exceptional in their respective fields.

“What about the monster Sylvia’s unconscious created?”

“It has disappeared, but according to eyewitness testimony, it looks like this.”

A tall, pale woman with a large shark-like mouth full of teeth.

“It looks insane. And the place called Anonymous Island, the achievement that promoted her to Monarch?”

An agent of the intelligence agency injected their mana into the crystal ball. The crystal projected the landscape of the island.

“Hmm…”

Primienne crossed her arms without saying anything further for a moment. The red-haired agent Lukehall broke the silence.

“What do you think, Deputy Director Primienne?”

“…I can understand why she became a Monarch in three months.”

The other agents nodded in admiration, but the mood of the island was familiar to me. Rice ears and leaves were swaying in the breeze above them; the sun was shining intensely like a scorching fire. It was a technique from an exam I gave. Sylvia had transplanted Van Gogh’s canvas onto that island.

“…She learned well.”

Primienne and the other agents turned to face me.

“Are you pretending that you taught her that, or did you really teach her?”

“If you are curious, buy my exam paper and look at it. There are occasional re-auctions on the Floating Island.”

“…Auctions?”

Primienne glanced at Lukehall, who gestured to another agent. The agent immediately left; perhaps he was heading to the Floating Island.

“Professor Deculein.”

Lukehall caught my attention.

“What level should be assigned to the surveillance operation? Please give us your opinion.”

Surveillance level. Simply put, it was to judge the subject’s risk, and the order was, from top to bottom: black—red—blue—green.

“We are thinking of the red grade.”

Primienne nodded her agreement.

“Five people have been victimized by the monster Sylvia created. A red rating would suffice.”

The definition of red was a close-range armed surveillance that recognizes that the subject is dangerous. I shook my head.

“You don’t have to. Green is enough.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Green, on the other hand, simply meant remote monitoring. Primienne and Lukehall both wore expressions of disbelief.

“Is there a reason as to why you think so?”

“There’s no way the one who created that island wouldn’t notice that someone near her was watching. Abnormalities in blue grade monitoring have the potential to cause stress.”

“But-“

“And.”

I interrupted Lukehall, staring at him with soft, sunken eyes.

“She’s a good girl.”

“…”

This time, the eyes of all the agents focused on me.

“We just have to watch from afar. How much will Sylvia grow, and how far will she go.”

“…What?”

“There is no need to treat a child who is not a monster like one.”

I stood as Lukehall scratched his head and nodded.

“Well, it’s the expert opinion, so we’ll do that. For now, we will assign her the green grade.”

“Then, thank you.”

I calmly left the house with Deputy Director Primienne following me.

“…Do you feel any guilt toward that child?”

Primienne’s characteristic dull and dry voice reached me. I continued to walk as I thought about Sylvia. Had I grown attached to her without noticing? Was I feeling sorry for our shared past?

Or…

“She’s a pitiful girl.”

Compassion was not a good feeling, and as Deculein, I hardly felt it. However, that was simply the case. Sylvia’s past hadn’t been a smooth one. She was a child who suffered too many wounds in too short a time. She grew up after being left high and dry, killing herself in an attempt to grow.

“There is no need to bother her anymore.”

“…”

Primienne offered nothing further. She walked by my side and, at some point, split off to go her way.

••••••

Meanwhile, the wind spell invented by Sylvia reached the far-off land she sought. She hadn’t even granted the magic a name. It was just a wind that, regardless of the distance, regardless of obstacles, transmitted the world’s sounds through her mana.

—She’s a good girl.

That was what she heard through the wind transmitting to her.

—We just have to watch from afar. How much will Sylvia grow, and how far will she go…

Even as time continued, Deculein’s attitude and way of speaking appeared likely to last forever.

— There is no need to treat a child who is not a monster like one.

Sylvia eavesdropped on it all, monitoring those distant lands from thousands of meters in the sky.

—Do you feel any guilt towards that child?

Another person’s question, not Deculein. Deculein answered after a pause.

—She’s a pitiful girl.

She clenched her fist; her heart set pounding loudly. Such compassion, but she never once asked for it. She just…

—You don’t need to bother her anymore.

His every word pierced her heart. Sylvia clenched her teeth, quiet curses flowing out.

“…Mean bastard.”

“?”

At the tea table near her, Idnik, who was preparing tea, turned to look at her. Sylvia appeared on the verge of crying. Idnik clicked her tongue and walked over to her.

“Sylvia. Are you trying to hate him?”

Sylvia glared at her in response. Idnik, with a smirk, handed over a cup. Then she sat by her side and looked out over the scenery of the island. It was as beautiful as an oil painting. The familiar flying over the rice and the panda running through the wheat fields created a peaceful image.

Only Sylvia appeared sorrowful in that space.

“Stop looking so down.”

“…Don’t mind me.”

“Mind? Sylvia. There is such a thing as getting a certain expression stuck on your face in this world.”

“I don’t believe in that.”

“It’s not a belief; it’s a phenomenon.”

Idnik tilted her eyes and looked into Sylvia’s face. Sylvia frowned and pushed her away.

“Facial expressions come from the heart. If your heart rots, your expression rots too.”

“…”

“If an expression rots for too long, that rotten pattern is engraved on one’s face. You are carving that expression into your face right now.”

Sylvia stood without a word and went into the house; it was the oil painting mansion that she had made herself.

“Okay. Take a rest.”

Idnik spoke to herself with a quiet smile.

* * *

Night, as the old crescent moon hangs in the sky.

Epherene returned to the dormitory for the first time in what felt like forever, bringing along three slices of bread she had bought. Her sole reason was that the moon looked like bread somehow.

“Sigh…”

She let out a small sigh as she put down her backpack and the bag of bread. She then leaned down and stretched out her hand under the bed to produce an old suitcase that came with a tight fit. After fiddling with the latch a few times, it popped open.

“…”

Her father’s letters were hidden inside. Epherene recalled her past when she read these numerous papers, sometimes with joy, sometimes with resentment. The times when she hoped that he would come back someday, and maybe they would be happy together.

“…Achilles heel.”

Ihelm said she was Deculein’s Achilles heel. He said that Deculein’s kindness to her was only a form of conciliation. However, the future self she met in Locralen — even though the memory was now faint — did not treat Deculein like an enemy.

“I don’t know…”

Whew-

Her sigh pushed her bangs up slightly. Epherene, feeling like procrastinating, suddenly took out her sponsorship certificate from the drawer. It was proof that she was supported by Deculein. She placed the [Testifier Application] from Ihelm next to it.

“…Dad, I don’t know.”

Epherene mussed her hair, groaning.

“What…”

However, no matter how much she thought about it, there didn’t appear to be many other ways forward. It was almost the only way to know the true meaning of Deculein and the past between her father and him. She held up the [Testifier Application] and looked out the window to the moon.

“…”

A moon that looked like bread. Epherene opened the paper bag and took a bite of her croissant.

* * *

…The next day.

I ordered a mirror from the island’s artisans and built a tower of mirrors in the backyard of the Yukline mansion. It was all to train this new talent in earnest.

“Master. Do you need anything else?”