Translator: KJ

...Reutern II was a meticulous and calculating man.

A wolf in the guise of a pig, concealing a vicious heart be⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠neath that round harmless exterior.

For Grossman, there was no longer any other way to see him.

For the sake of confirming the Standing Minister, every eye and ear of the Imperial Palace, even Grossman's own shadow, had been watching Reutern II's every move.

And yet the bastard had shown nothing. No sign, no warning.

On the contrary, his daily routine had been idiotic. So monotonous it wore down the watchers themselves.

Off on an "external inspection", he made the rounds of famous restaurants. Off "studying", he holed up in the library and slept through it, drooling. Off to "see an opera", he sprawled across his seat and slept again. Days of meaningless time-killing, one after another.

It was the same Reutern II he had always presented at the Imperial Palace, until one moment.

A transcript of a closed-door hearing was leaked from the Imperial Palace archives.

Everyone in the palace assumed it was Reutern's doing, and the direct agencies investigated him thoroughly, but no physical evidence was ever found.

How the bastard had smuggled the document out of that vault. How he had managed to circulate so many copies. Grossman still had no answer.

"Hah..."

Drawing on his cigar, he sank into deep thought.

The audacity to stage a self-orchestrated incident and have Julius, one pillar of the royal house, dismissed. The drive to mock layer upon layer of surveillance and steal the palace's secrets.

Therefore, Reutern II's reasons for accepting this meeting would be deeply political. And the questions ran just as deep.

Why had that cunning bastard insisted on bringing Kentz Bertem along?

Why, of all places, had he chosen Lilac Vita, outside the palace?

Every move of his felt as though hidden meaning lurked beneath it... and yet no intent could be inferred.

"...There's no telling what the bastard truly wants."

Grossman had always tracked a man's essence through his desires.

What he thirsted for, what he coveted. Operating on the principle that no human being is without desire, he had always seized those appetites like a leash and shaken them.

But it did not work on Reutern II.

Reutern was unlike anyone else.

He scattered his shallow desires lavishly and without limit, and behind that very carelessness he had perfectly concealed his ‘true intent’. An entirely new kind of enemy.

Better, perhaps, to send an assassin, take the bastard's head, and weather the fallout, than to keep up this tangled game of wits──

For Grossman, who had always preferred a more elegant brand of politics, it was the first time in his life he had felt such murderous intent.

.......

Meanwhile, Reutern II was lying on the sofa.

In his private chamber, after issuing the most strict instructions to absolutely not disturb him, he had been studying military strategy and had meant to rest only briefly, just for a moment──

"...Snnh."

Without realizing it, he had fallen asleep.

"Khrrrrr-"

Snoring.

"Khaaaaack-"

* * *

A certain day at the Sentinel Knight Order.

An official directive had come down from the Imperial Palace. The order was unambiguous: the Knight Order's investigation into ‘Mason Industry’ was to be halted.

"...Interesting."

I smiled.

Mason Industry ‘still’ had a fair amount of pull. Perhaps the Emperor was excited about their results.

Then again, even in the future where they collapsed, that only happened after their utility was completely spent in the wake of the Outcast incident.

"...?"

That was when— some gaze brushed down my spine.

The feeling that something was watching me.

I turned reflexively, and with a snap, it broke off and vanished.

"..."

It was a strange sense of déjà vu.

Without much thought I tried to refocus on the paperwork, but then.

"Wait."

The day I had visited the T24 Research Institute, I had felt something similar.

I frowned, turning it over in my mind, and a name flickered through my thoughts.

One of the characters from Outcast. A cartoonist with a Special Ability called Clairvoyance. In other words, the original author of Outcast: ‘Filty’.

If the real Filty's ability was the same as in the comic...

Had she begun watching me, in the wake of the recent T24 incident?

"H⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠mm."

But there was no time to worry about that right now. They had no real way of reaching me directly anyway, and right now was the time to temper the Knight Order, to forge it into something stronger.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and stagnant water is bound to rot.

The first-years who had just entered year one and were full of themselves, and the four- and five-year veterans who had picked up just enough experience to learn the shortcuts, were slowly becoming the festering wounds of the Sentinels.

Plenty of knights who weren't anywhere near as capable as Cliff yet still chased nothing but personal greed, knights who didn't even seem like knights.

Even Hannah's first-year cohort consisted mostly of substandard graduates produced before Empire Point's regulations had been overhauled, in the slack environment of the old days.

Tap, tap.

I straightened the documents on my desk, tucked them under my arm, and left my office. I climbed the stairs and reached the door of Chiron's Deputy Commander's office.

Knock, knock.

When I opened the door and entered, the first thing inside was the reception desk. One additional layer of formality had been added to Chiron's Deputy Commander's office.

"This way, sir."

A staff officer led me to the Deputy Commander's room. Along the way we passed four more administrative offices, and Chiron was in the largest one at the far end of the corridor.

"...Max. What brings you here?"

In the space that Anton had once occupied, traces of him still lingered. The mounted Moose above the fireplace, said to have been hunted by Anton himself in years past, was particularly conspicuous.

"Symbols like that matter, sometimes."

Catching my gaze, Chiron glanced toward the moose with a small smile.

"There's no need to wipe out my predecessor entirely and earn enmity for it. I figured this much could stay."

He had certainly grown compared to before my Regression. Above all, the impatience that used to gnaw at him was gone. He no longer had to scrape for power by colluding with the Imperial Guard, after all.

"Deputy Commander. The audit report."

I handed him the documents. Chiron took them and turned the pages with a rather grave expression.

"...Quite a few problem knights here."

"Yes."

Those who had taken kickbacks from particular corporations. Those who had steered retrials in someone's favor for personal gain. Those who had abused their authority as knights to fleece civilians. Those who had taken bribes to look the other way on enforcement of the「Imperial Citizenship Law」.

The first-year noble knight who had apparently forced discounts, even forced sponsorships, out of some luxury boutique was almost beyond belief.

"The reason I forgave Sir Cliff was not solely because he is from Sentinel."

Where there is power, the flies will gather. The moment one walks the streets in uniform, people treat them as a knight with the utmost reverence; how could anyone keep their head from swelling on those shoulders?

But that is exactly why I am in this position.

That is exactly why I keep spending money.

I have no intention of leaving any of my fortune behind by the time this war is over, and that premise itself becomes my power.

"Sentinel is, in the end, Sentinel. But to be worthy of the name, ‘qualification’ must come first."

The stronger and more inviolable the Knight Order's authority became, the more fiercely each member would have to prove themselves worthy of it. Before demanding treatment or privilege for themselves, they had to first know the ‘will of the Empire’ and act on it.

"A Sentinel must recognize, of his own accord, that he carries a dignity befitting the Sentinel name, and that he is the sharpest blade in defense of the Empire."

A knight blinded by self-interest, who brought harm to the Empire, would never be tolerated.

What a knight ought to lead to victory was war, and the only heads he should be cutting down were those of enemy armies and Ezenheim.

"A clear awareness of what it means to bear the title of knight will, in turn, lead to proper pride."

"..."

Chiron studied my audit documents quietly, then nodded.

"The only ones who can punish a Sentinel are Sentinels themselves."

A perfectly sou⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠nd principle.

─Bang!

The new Deputy Commander's seal came down hard.

...From that day on, eleven first-years, two second-years, three fourth-years, and four fifth-years were referred to the Disciplinary Committee. Those whose offenses were comparatively minor were settled with three to six months of pay reduction, while those given heavier penalties were suspended for a year. The four whose conduct had been most egregious were dismissed without mercy, their knighthood revoked permanently.

In addition, a notice bearing a red seal was posted in the Knight Order's corridors.

[ Internal Audit Results Notice ]

[ Pay Reductions: 10 ]

[ Suspensions: 8 ]

[ Dismissals: 4 ]

I deliberately refrained from listing names. There was no need to inflict more shame than the situation warranted.

Nor had I taken status into account when selecting who would be disciplined. If anything, more nobles were named than commoners.

For that reason, those of the dismissed or suspended knights whose families held some connection in the political world approached the Deputy Commander, Chiron, but he refused them all with a single line.

‘This falls entirely within the purview of the internal audit, and is not a matter in which I can intervene.’

He shifted all responsibility onto the auditing party─that is, onto me, but not a single noble came in person to plead for clemency.

No, the more accurate way to put it would be that they did not dare come.

In noble society, no house wields greater power than the Ebenholtz.

A handful might claim to be its equal, but the only person who could plainly be called above it was the Emperor.

* * *

Spring, the season when many new things begin.

Lorenzo Academy completed the prototype of the basic-model radio that would be distributed free of charge to subjects across the Empire, and Johann Georg Goetze finally finished his doctoral program.

[ Imperial Central University Graduation Ceremony ]

This was the great hall of Imperial Central University, bathed in warm spring sunlight. Bouquets of congratulation and lively laughter filled the auditorium as the Chancellor's voice rang out across it.

"──Next, recipient of the doctoral degree. Johann Georg Goetze."

I sat in the very front row and watched as Johann ascended to the podium.

Around me, the most prominent figures of the Empire were packed shoulder to shoulder. Headmasters of universities, of course, as well as high-ranking generals of the military, members of the House of Nobles, and seated immediately beside me was Lieutenant General Litruman, Headmaster of Empire Point.

"Is that the famed author of Valtaras?"

Litruman asked, gazing at Johann on the stage with interest.

"Yes. A truly remarkable intellect."

I made certain Litruman and the surrounding nobles registered Johann's face.

A talent who would soon enter politics and, as the mouthpiece of the Empire, would become the head of the Propaganda Bureau, controlling the thoughts of the entire populace. Planting his presence in advance among the Empire's powerbrokers was indispensable groundwork.

"Johann."

I called to him as he came down from the stage. He approached with a slightly nervous expression.

"Sir Maximilian. Thank you for coming."

When Johann offered me a courteous expression of thanks, the surrounding nobles naturally shifted their gazes toward him.

"Oh, so you're Johann. The author of 『Valtaras』."

"I didn't know we had a celebrity in our midst."

─It was through moments like these that connections were forged. Lieutenant General Litruman and the others holding key posts in the Empire spoke with Johann, committing his name and face to memory.

As I watched their conversation unfold.

Bzzz-

The terminal in my pocket vibrated briefly. I checked the message and rose from my seat.

"Forgive me, but I must take my leave. Something urgent has come up."

Litruman and the surrounding nobles wore expressions that suggested they already knew the reason.

"Ah. Come to think of it, today's the day."

"I heard there's a very important meeting at「Lilac Vita」today."

"It isn't every day that someone of that rank from the Imperial Palace ventures outside..."

A meeting between Grossman, the real power inside the Imperial Palace, and Reutern II, who had risen to prominence so suddenly. The rumor had already spread far through the Empire's upper ranks. Everyone pretended not to know, but they were all on edge, alert to whatever friction might erupt there.

"Yes. I'll be off, then."

* * *

Lilac Vita had been booked out in its entirety for the day, for two people alone. Sentinel knights and palace guards were stationed at intervals along the streets, and the interior of the restaurant had been swept thoroughly by agency directly under the Imperial Palace.

"..."

"..."

And so at last, the two men sat across from one another.

Grossman watched Reutern II quietly. Reutern II's eyes, by contrast, were already fixed on the food that had been served.

There were not, however, only the two of them.

As Reutern had wanted, Kentz Bertem had been brought into the meeting.

"Eat up. It'll be incredible. Kentz! You eat too."

Reutern was the first to invite them to begin. Grossman smiled comfortably as well, cutting a piece of veal tenderloin topped with caviar and bringing it to his mouth.

"...Mm."

The taste was excellent indeed. Enough to make sense of why the Imperial Palace's nobles were willing to grovel for a reservation.

Reutern glanced sidelong at Kentz Bertem.

"Kentz. I told you to eat? It's your first time here, isn't it."

"..."

Kentz Bertem had been seething from the moment he had taken his seat. Reutern's arrogant attitude was unbearable, and so was the fact that he himself was being treated as a mere accessory.

Even so, he forced down his anger and lifted his knife.

He cut the meat, brought it to his mouth, and the moment he chewed.

"...!"

Kentz's eyeballs quivered.

'Insanely delicious. The first taste of true delicacy in my entire life.'

"Heh."

Reutern snorted at Kentz's reaction. Grossman dabbed at his lips with a napkin and smoothly opened the conversation.

"Lord Reutern, I hear you've been quite busy of late-"

"Oh~ recently? Well, I've been studying military strategy, that's all~ Has word really spread that fast?"

Military strategy. At that word, Grossman's eyes narrowed by the faintest fraction.

At some point Reutern had begun making this kind of military-strategy talk with increasing frequency. No doubt anticipating the war to come and laying his pieces accordingly.

Beyond cutting Julius down and gathering a faction of the royal house around himself, he was now signaling an ambition to involve himself in military affairs, in war itself.

"What are your thoughts on this newly created post, the Standing Minister? You appeared to have quite a few objections."

‘You appeared to have quite a few objections.’

Gross⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠man had come to the heart of it. Reutern, fork still in his mouth, replied with airy indifference.

"Oh~ I don't really care, honestly. I'm not even sure why we'd need to control the Knight Order~? They seem to be handling things just fine on their own."

Grossman smiled faintly and nodded, but Kentz Bertem, unable to hold back, cut in.

"That blade of the Knight Order will turn on the Imperial Palace one day, no, it absolutely will, eventually. Are you pretending not to see it, or do you genuinely not see it?"

It was Kentz Bertem's signature tone, the one where he played the only one who really understood, the clever one lecturing everyone else.

It was the kind of tone that subtly grated on his pride, the very type Reutern detested most.

"...The hell is he on about."

Reutern's knife came to a halt. The plump face suddenly went cold. Reutern stared at Kentz, and replied with a perfectly innocent expression.

"That's just your opinion, isn't it."

In the same breath, his eyes turned and settled on Grossman.

"Do you think the same way he does, Chief of Staff?"

"..."

Gross⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠man merely gave a small smile.

"Aw, come on~ No really, say it. You agree with me, right? I'm telling you, he's always making things up in his head."

When Grossman gave what looked like a faint nod, Reutern muttered, "Knew it~" and pointed his knife at Kentz.

"Hey, that's always been your problem. You keep forcing your ideas onto everyone else. And then you act like whatever you've thought up is automatically correct."

"What-"

"You can't read the room, no tact, either. Just eat your food, would you. The Chief of Staff said this is his first time at Lilac Vita too."

Reutern II was in fine spirits. Refuting every word out of Kentz's mouth, openly putting him down, was nothing but pure entertainment for him.

"..."

But Grossman concealed his emotions and slipped into thought.

‘The bastard is trying to make me speak. He's demanding clear words from me, and above all... he's prodding at relationships.’

Relationships.

The links between one person and another.

In politics, the point at which the most delicate forces converged.

"That's been your problem since you were little. Thinking whatever you want, just spouting bullshit. Sigh~ when are you gonna grow up?"

Reutern's signature needling continued. To Kentz, it felt like a blade shaving thin curls off his skin. But he was aware, by now, that he had been fooled by that particular style of speech for far too long.

So this time he settled, instead, into stillness. He refused to let the bastard see his reaction.

At that, Reutern jerked his gaze away.

"What do you think, Chief of Staff?"

"...Let's eat first."

Grossman lifted his wine glass instead. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

A difficult opponent, no question. But there was no reason to overreact. One must not grant an enemy unnecessary narrative weight. See him as he was, and meet him without lapsing into carelessness, nothing more.

But Reutern's tongue did not stop. This time he turned to Kentz and let it loose.

"Anyway, Kentz, your mouth's always been the problem. Which is exactly why, this time too, because of your mouth... ah, sorry."

Mouth. A clear allusion to the transcript.

A vein bulged on the back of Kentz's hand.

~~~

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