#11. No Particular Reason. I Just Wanted to See You a Little Sooner.
In the evening sky painted crimson by the sunset, swallows flew low. Everyone passing through the outskirts of the capital hunched their shoulders and quickened their steps.
“Hey…”
“Ahhhh!”
“Aaack!”
A man screamed when someone suddenly touched his shoulder, and the person who had touched him also shrieked in response. The man, now pale, sighed deeply after realizing it was just his neighbor.
“Oh, it was you.”
“Why so jumpy? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
The equally pale neighbor scolded him, and the man frowned deeply.
“It’s because of the rumors going around lately. What else?”
“Rumors?”
The man, seemingly pitying his clueless neighbor, glanced around and whispered while hunching his neck.
“They say bodies are showing up. One after another.”
“What? Bodies?”
“Shh, keep it down!”
Startled by his neighbor’s wide-eyed reaction, the man quickly pressed his hand on his shoulder and looked around anxiously. Perhaps it was coincidence, but they were the only two in sight. His throat bobbed nervously as he swallowed dryly. The desolate street under the descending night felt eerie—almost grotesque.
“What kind of bodies…”
“Ahhh!”
“Aack!”
Once again, the man screamed, and so did his neighbor, who had lightly tapped his arm. They stared at each other wide-eyed in silence until the neighbor grumbled.
“You can’t just leave me hanging like that and start spacing out!”
He sounded upset, as if being startled twice had thoroughly annoyed him. The man scanned the surroundings and lightly tapped his neighbor’s arm.
“Forget it. I don’t want to talk about this here. Let’s go.”
As the man hurriedly moved forward, the neighbor grumbled but still walked alongside him. Another shadow briefly followed theirs before vanishing into the night.
That night—
“Who…who’s there—Aaaah!”
Someone, their face ghostly pale, tried to crawl away from a grinning man with a slashed mouth. But before they could escape, their vision flashed white, and they collapsed unconscious. Thud.
Time passed helplessly, and as dawn crept over the edge of night—slice, slice—the sound of cutting echoed through the air.
Not long after, the body of another person, sacrificed to an ancient god, was buried in a pit.
The next morning.
As the sun rose, chasing away the smell of damp earth and blood, Olivia was leaving the imperial palace in disguise. Rather than the main gate, she used the servants’ path, nodding politely to the guard at the exit.
“Heading out this early? Most people are just arriving around now.”
“Yes, someone requested something urgently. Here’s the permit.”
The guard checked her permit thoroughly and then opened the gate. As Olivia stepped outside and winced at the glaring sun, a quiet voice whispered in her ear from right beside her.
“Heading to the scene?”
She froze. Rubbing her cheek where goosebumps rose, she quickly turned to her left where the voice came from—but no one was there. Only the shimmering haze of heat danced in the sunlight. Olivia blinked in confusion but slowly turned back. She didn’t want to draw attention with strange behavior.
“Where are you?”
“In the shadow.”
“What? The shadow…?”
The answer came so quickly and plainly that Olivia nearly did a double take. Was he being poetic? Did he mean it literally? How could a person just hide in a shadow without leaving a trace?
“No, forget it. Of course. In the shadow.”
Then she remembered—it was Cryer. If anyone could disappear into shadows or anywhere else, it would be him. Shaking her head, she resumed walking and spoke.
“It’s not that the security is sloppy. I’m just really good at disguising myself. I’ve been doing this for over ten years—if I weren’t good at it, I’d be embarrassed.”
She flicked a strand of her wig and rubbed her tired eyes. Her striking red Bolshake hair was hidden under a dull straw-colored wig, and her piercing blue eyes were concealed by messy bangs. Even her facial features had been altered so thoroughly that even her closest attendants wouldn’t recognize her. Let alone the gate guards at the outer wall of the palace.
But Cryer, of course, was not fooled.
“If a guard can’t recognize someone just because their appearance has slightly changed, they’re unqualified. Even if you ignore posture or gait, the bone structure is still the same.”
Walking beside her without warning, he added casually,
“Even just looking at your hands, it’s easy to tell.”
“Whatever. Sure, some people could figure it out, but most people don’t examine others that closely. And you—ugh.”
Olivia waved her hand dismissively, not even looking at him.
“You’re the only one who’d notice with that level of detail. Don’t argue.”
Cryer smiled faintly—but the smile faded so quickly that even Olivia didn’t catch it. As someone accustomed to sneaking out of the palace, she melted effortlessly into the bustling streets of the capital.
“You said you used to sneak out of the palace often.”
He now walked casually beside her again.
“It was part of my duty.”
There was no other reason for Olivia, crown princess of the Bolshake Empire and future empress, to walk alone through the capital without guards. It wasn’t out of romantic ideas like “I want to see how the common people live!” or “What kind of freedom exists outside the palace?” Perhaps she thought that once, long ago, in her very first life before the regressions began. But ever since, her secret outings had been part of her royal obligation—nothing more.
“Well, this outing isn’t a duty. It’s His Majesty’s request.”
A few days ago, the Emperor had summoned Olivia at dawn.
‘A…serial killer?’
She tilted her head as she examined the thin stack of documents.
‘Yes. Mostly from the outskirts of the capital. The missing haven’t been found.’
‘If they’re missing, isn’t this just a disappearance?’
‘I’m assigning you to confirm the truth.’
The Emperor’s matter-of-fact tone made Olivia bow her head in acceptance. Cryer’s question brought her mind back from that memory.
“Was someone from a major noble house taken?”
It was a natural assumption—why else would the princess herself be assigned to a disappearance case?
“No. According to the documents, just scattered cases from the outskirts.”
“Then why you?”
“As a kind of punishment, probably.”
“Punishment?”
Cryer raised an eyebrow. Olivia shook her head.
“It’s not that the disappearance of citizens isn’t important.”
She rubbed the back of her stiff neck, a result of several sleepless nights.
“But dealing with the safety and future of many more citizens takes priority.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I know how much you do, standing at the top of the Empire.”
Cryer replied, his hand unconsciously brushing his collarbone.
“Yeah… you don’t sleep either, do you?”
Not quite don’t, more like can’t. Like Olivia, he barely slept. Instead, he spent long nights by her side, reading Bolshake’s history books.
“I always wondered if that towering mountain of paperwork would ever collapse.”
“Oh, that mountain… I did hear a story once. One of the previous emperors—maybe two reigns ago?—got crushed under a pile of documents and fractured something around here.”
She patted her abdomen casually and added,
“But he still finished all the documents for that day.”
Her tone was light, but processing documents with broken ribs was no trivial matter. Still, for Olivia, it wasn’t remarkable or strange. With privilege came responsibility. She was born a princess of Bolshake—there was a price to be paid.
Even if, after four regressions, her own life had become the most precious of all…
To survive, she had to protect world peace. And to do that, she also had to ensure the well-being of her people.
Shaking her head, she changed the subject.
“Anyway, this investigation is probably punishment for how I unilaterally pushed for the Continental Assembly to be held early.”
She shrugged and casually tugged on Cryer’s sleeve.
“This way.”
He followed without hesitation, turning left.
“The Assembly was held ahead of schedule, wasn’t it? Why the rush?”
“Oh, no big reason. I just wanted to see you a little sooner.”
To any bystander, that would’ve sounded grandly romantic. A princess moving up a national event just to meet one man?
But Olivia’s next words shattered the illusion.
“If I wanted to fulfill my role as a dove of world peace, I had to start working on manipulating the source of conflict—that means you—as soon as possible.”
And manipulate him she did—grabbing his pants leg to stop him from leaving, even.
The memory made her eyes grow distant. Ugh. She really didn’t want to recall that moment.
“Dove of peace…”
Cryer chuckled, his quiet voice almost a whisper. Olivia responded by thumping his arm.
“Stop laughing already! You laugh at everything I say. It’s not like—”
She stopped mid-sentence, her mouth snapping shut.
What had she been about to say?
“It’s not like you…”?
But what exactly was Cryer-like?
