The square box was a ‘signal device.’
It had sent a signal from inside to the outside.
The reason it hadn't sent one until now was probably because the spy hadn't heard the entire meeting yet.
Or perhaps he'd been waiting for a moment when he could kill Count Hamuan with certainty.
What came flying in was a catapult projectile.
A massive rock with explosive magic attached to it.
The conference room was protected by magic, so it didn't explode from a single hit, and the damage wasn't all that severe.
Without the magical barrier, everyone would've died.
Instead, only several people suffered serious injuries.
But one thing was certain.
‘If we hadn't hidden under the table, several casualties would've been nothing unusual.’
Someone thought that while looking at the completely wrecked conference room.
“Black Knight! Capture those bastards at once!”
“Detain the guards!”
“Your Excellency! Are you all right?”
Fortunately, Count Hamuan was unharmed.
The key officers had also escaped without major injuries.
Once everyone had breathed a sigh of relief, several gazes turned toward one man.
The person who had foreseen the situation half a beat ahead and resolved it.
An Elder of the Spider Society.
Ermasa.
“We will escort you to the temporary residence on Baker Street!”
When someone said that to the Count, Ermasa blocked the man's path with his cane.
“No.”
“Pardon?”
“Get a grip! A man carrying a signal device would've had no trouble hiding a transceiver as well. There's a high chance the contents of this meeting have already leaked, and an equally high chance the temporary residence on Baker Street is surrounded.”
“Ah…!”
A weight that didn't suit his youthful face in the slightest.
Even with the situation this urgent, he remained astonishingly calm.
“We'll divide everyone among the carriages!”
Makion hurriedly took control of the situation.
And so, the officers split among their respective carriages and scattered in 5 directions.
The Count would be inside one of them.
But because the arrangement had been made hastily after the attack, there was no way the southern bastards could know which one.
Even in the middle of all this, Makion still found Ermasa irritating, so he arranged for him to ride in a different carriage.
But…….
On the way to the temporary residence—
“I'll apply the medicine.”
“Very well.”
After his excitement subsided, Adjutant Makion of the Intelligence Department began treating the wound on his neck.
And gradually, confusion set in.
‘……He deciphered the cipher. Right there, on the spot.’
With nothing more than a glance.
It was impossible.
A cipher wasn't something one could simply memorize.
Suppose there was an expert.
No matter how many ciphers he'd handled in the past, he should become illiterate again the moment he faced a new one.
That was why ciphers kept evolving.
And Makion's Intelligence Department had wrestled with that particular cipher for several days.
Even so, they'd failed to decrypt it and had classified it as a ‘decoy document.’
And yet—
‘How could this happen…….’
Makion felt dreadful anguish.
It hadn't been a decoy document.
That bastard had proven it.
‘No!’
Impossible.
Something like that couldn't happen.
He didn't know how such a result had occurred, but there had to be something wrong.
‘I can't accept this. What if that bastard's actually a spy too? He hides his face like some freak, then walks into a meeting like he owns the place…!’
Makion trembled as he cursed inwardly.
While he fumed alone, the intelligence officers began whispering, completely unaware of what was going through his mind.
“This is too shocking….”
“To think the Bureau Chief was a spy. And we never even knew.”
“So he really was from the Spider Society…. I wanted to become someone like that someday….”
Makion's eyes nearly rolled back.
“Will you shut your mouths!!”
Bastards without even a shred of pride.
Were they not ashamed to say such things?
Intelligence!
Makion had devoted his entire life to that field.
How was he supposed to admit that some green young bastard surpassed him in ability?
And so, he spent the entire day wearing the expression of someone who'd bitten into a stone while eating.
“Adjutant. You look completely crushed.”
That night, Count Hamuan summoned him privately and spoke.
The old man, Makion, forced his expression back into place and looked up at his lord.
As always, the Count wore a gentle smile.
“I am ashamed merely to remain alive, Your Excellency. This old fool was already lacking enough, and I could not even distinguish friend from foe among my own subordinates.”
“No. Bureau Chief Hinten was here even before you joined the Intelligence Department, wasn't he? Uncovering a spy who'd been prepared for that long would be difficult.”
“Yes…….”
“Astonishing. Count Eisenberg. Just how long ago did that man begin harboring ambitions to invade the north…. If he'd been preparing for that long, there was little we could do but fall for it.”
Count Hamuan gently comforted him with a joke.
“But what do you think?”
“Pardon?”
“That Elder of the Spider Society. I find him difficult to assess. Discovering Hinten and predicting the attack were both impressive… but that isn't the entirety of intelligence work, is it? He might simply specialize in deciphering ciphers.”
“Ahh….”
“What do you think, Adjutant? Can you gauge his caliber from the cipher decryption alone?”
The Count asked.
The Count was always the one asking questions.
‘Damn it….’
Makion bit his lip.
He was an intelligence officer.
He was supposed to answer with the truth.
Which meant that from this moment onward, he had to speak honestly.
‘Damn it…!!’
He had to judge the caliber of that bastard Ermasa—
based solely on his deciphering ability?
And present it as objective, truthful ‘intelligence’?
“…….”
Heat surged through Makion's head.
It felt as though his blood were flowing backward.
He wanted to avoid answering even if it killed him.
But answering was the very reason he existed, wasn't it?
If he couldn't even do this, then he had no right to call himself an intelligence officer.
Even as jealousy threatened to blind him, Makion finally opened his mouth.
“…Your Excellency. There is no such thing as a specialist who merely ‘deciphers ciphers.’”
“Hmm?”
“Modern ciphers go beyond simply twisting words. Merely using agreed-upon substitute terms, as people did in the past, makes them too easy for magic tools that infer intent to decipher. So deciphering modern ciphers requires both random-number analysis and knowledge of magical engineering.”
It was infuriating.
He had to praise that bastard this much?
“That… Ermasa…… deciphered a cipher that around 15 members of our Intelligence Department worked on for nearly 5 days without finding even a clue.”
Makion had always regarded the Spider Society as a manufactured illusion.
Because thinking that way made him feel better.
“And based on what he deciphered, he identified the culprit and predicted what would happen afterward. That means he possesses more than mere ability as an intelligence officer.”
But after meeting one in person, he finally understood.
“What is your conclusion?”
“…….”
Makion understood after only a single meeting.
“He stands on a different level.”
Far beyond them.
And because of that difference, Makion was still breathing.
If that youthful-looking Spider Society man had been even 1 second slower, Makion's throat would've been slit.
Betrayed by the Bureau Chief he'd trusted.
The old man spoke bitterly.
“That man… stands on a different level from us….”
***
Have you ever been famous?
This was my first time.
Honestly, I hadn't become famous because I was exceptional.
Things had just somehow turned out this way.
I merely pretended to be an Elder of the Spider Society, throwing in little interjections like, “Hmm,” “I see…,” and “Is that all….”
Then whenever it was time to reveal some secret with the one thing I was actually good at, the 「All-Seeing Eye」, I rattled off a flood of information.
And somehow, perhaps because I was lucky, reports of victory kept pouring in.
“Victory!”
“We won. We fucked every last one of them up.”
“Your decryption was correct, Elder. There were 12 assassins gathered there.”
Again—
I was lucky.
The fact that the south had recently been communicating unusually often through ciphers gave me plenty of opportunities to shine.
The fact that the Spider Society was so mysterious that almost no one knew its true nature also helped.
As for the speech and presence of some great figure?
No matter how much of my life I'd spent acting, how much of that could really have belonged to me?
I was simply imitating Song Chien, the man I'd met in the underground Herb Mine.
If I hadn't met him, I would've remained nothing more than a child clumsily pretending to be an adult.
In the end, all those coincidences mixed together and placed me where I was now.
But—once I became famous, things started getting weird.
“Hmm.”
Flinch!
Even a simple clearing of my throat during a meeting made more than 10 people flinch.
“A-Are you all right? Is there perhaps something that displeases you…?”
If I crossed my legs because my sitting position was uncomfortable, someone would ask about my mood.
“I don't know enough about this matter. Handle it yourselves.”
I'd only told them to handle it themselves because I genuinely didn't know.
“Please, we beg you to reconsider.”
“My apologies. It seems our subordinates made an error….”
“You cannot leave us like this. All our lives depend on you!”
They even chased my magic-powered car and grabbed onto my trouser legs.
“…….”
I'm going insane.
This is way too much pressure.
But I couldn't exactly say, ‘I'm really nothing special,’ or ‘I'm not upset.’
I wasn't stupid enough to deliberately lower my own value.
So I kept acting solemn and important whenever the situation demanded it.
About 10 days passed like that.
“…….”
Gradually, the Black Knight's gaze started becoming sticky(?).
“…….”
What?
Why?
“…….”
Why are you looking at me like that?
“……!”
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
What do you mean, nothing….
I was scared.
The first time he'd looked at me like that was when I'd casually spoken down to the Count.
If gazes had a viscosity, his gaze had been a 3 back then.
Now it was around 5.
As his gaze grew more intense, the pressure I felt grew 2 or 3 times stronger along with it.
So was it suspicion or what?
After thinking carefully, I thought I understood.
Samael, you idiot!
Of course it's suspicious!
Because even to me, my behavior had gone way too far.
I'd been making noodles not long ago, yet now I was casually speaking down to a Count and ordering people around as though it were natural.
How ridiculous must that look?
Naturally, the Black Knight's suspicions could only keep growing.
Besides—
‘My bare face! He's the only one who knows my bare face!’
By now, everyone who knew even a little about my true face had died.
For example, Katran of 15-Year Noodles, who knew I was a guard, got an axe buried in his head.
Underboss Hamon, who knew I'd been impersonating the owner of the noodle shop, got a sword through his heart.
But not the Black Knight.
‘I don't know why he suddenly started talking about the Spider Society and showing me all this loyalty, but if that bastard decides to fuck me over, I'm finished…. I have to get on his good side…!’
If I couldn't fool him, then at least I had to make him like me.
From then on, I periodically examined the Black Knight with the 「All-Seeing Eye」.
Eventually, I discovered something important.
“Parthenon.”
“Speak.”
As always, he answered in a stiff, rigid voice.
“Your sword.”
“My sword?”
“Take it to a magic-tool blacksmith.”
It wasn't anything extraordinary.
While examining everything about the Black Knight with the 「All-Seeing Eye」, I'd happened to notice an imbalance in the magical power inside his sword.
As a former member of a magic-tool factory inspection team, I knew that an imbalance like that would eventually damage a magic tool.
So I'd offered some advice.
“Unexpected. You know how to assess swords as well?”
“…….”
The moment he frowned, my heart dropped.
“However, as for my beloved sword, 「Black Moon」, I have always maintained it carefully. It should be fine.”
Of course!
That's what you're thinking, right?
What the hell does some bastard who used to make noodles know about swords in front of an actual swordsman?
“Do as you please.”
Crying inwardly, I decided I'd try again some other time.
***
“This could have been disastrous.”
“Disastrous?”
Parthenon took great pride in his sword.
If anyone else had pointed out a problem, his pride would've been wounded.
But the one who'd pointed it out was Ermasa.
So, just in case, he'd visited a blacksmith.
The answer he received was shocking.
“It's broken.”
“Broken?”
“Look, Sir Knight.”
The blacksmith struck the sword's hilt with a hammer.
CLANG!
At the same time—
CRACK―!
Magical power burst outward.
BOOM!
The hilt exploded on the spot.
The blast was powerful enough to gouge the solid steel anvil.
“N-No….”
Even Parthenon, who always maintained his composure, was flustered.
He had always maintained only the blade.
He'd never imagined there could be a problem with the hilt.
“It seems an extremely fine crack formed in the joint. The circuit was damaged.”
“Can it be repaired?”
“Yes. There is no problem. We only need to replace the hilt and circuit.”
The blacksmith sighed.
“But you truly came close to disaster.”
“Hmm?”
“If it had exploded while you were holding it, wouldn't both your hands have been blown to pieces?”
“……!”
On his way out with the repaired sword, Parthenon thought,
‘I withdraw my support for Lord Ermasa.’
That's right.
He no longer supported him.
Support?
How could something so trivial possibly be enough?
‘From this moment onward, Lord Ermasa and I are in a relationship of worship.’
After all—he was a god.