Chapter 34: ༺This is What I Missed [2]༻
The Imperial Security Department was quiet, save for the sound of an old man’s steady breathing.
Behind a desk littered with sealed reports and crystal fragments, the Minister of ISD sat with an unshakable composure, eyes fixed on the young woman standing before him.
Phoebe Saint Pierremont spoke calmly, but there was a trace of heaviness in her tone as she recounted the events at Gresha.
"Everyone was subdued... unconscious. Everyone except Noel.
He was the one who confronted Brother Elian of the Chapel. Which only confirmed it was the Wretched Faith’s doing."
The Minister’s brows twitched, but Phoebe continued without faltering.
"Even before that... during the train ride through the Southern Marches, in that short span of time, Noel managed to uncover the culprit behind the sabotage. All he needed were the testimonies and the documents we had gathered.
It was... astonishing."
At that, the old man suddenly let out a deep laugh.
"Hahahahaha! That’s Noel Saint Grenn for you.
They don’t call him the manifestation of Rasputin for nothing. His detective instincts... terrifying, really.
He sees through people as though they’re glass."
He let the laugh fade, his gaze shifting toward Phoebe. The warmth in his tone did not diminish.
"And you, Lady Saint Pierremont, you did well yourself. Don’t think I’ve overlooked that. The Gresha Dispatch would’ve been chaos without you. Elegant under pressure, unyielding when it mattered. You’ve done this department proud."
His words flowed like honey, but Phoebe’s eyes narrowed faintly.
She knew that tone all too well...it wasn’t flattery.
It was a prelude.
"I have a proposal for you," the Minister said.
Phoebe tilted her head slightly, but said nothing.
"As for Noel... he has requested more time. He claims he needs to recover from the incident, and to focus on his career at the Imperial Academy.
But..."
The old man’s voice lowered.
"...he has not resigned. He still intends to serve under Division IV, though only as a ghost leader."
Phoebe’s eyes flickered.
"...So you want me to take up that position?" she asked softly.
The room was silent.
The Minister did not answer. He simply watched her with eyes that gave away nothing.
Phoebe exhaled faintly, then gave a small shake of her head.
"You should appoint Cassel instead. He’s better suited for that role.
As for me... I already have my hands full as Senior Executive Manager in my own department.
I’ll decline the title, but..."
She paused, her lips curving with a faint smile.
"...I’ll still join the field, if you’ll allow it. My military skills won’t do much gathering dust behind a desk."
With that, she bowed lightly, turned, and left the office without looking back.
The Minister leaned back in his chair, staring at the door long after it closed.
"What a difficult woman..."
He murmured, though his tone carried something closer to admiration than frustration.
He reached for the communication crystal on his desk. It glowed faintly as he whispered,
"Send Cassel to my office."
***
[Noel’s POV]
I stood there lost in my thoughts as my gaze drifted to the window, to the sprawling gardens of the Imperial Academy.
Flowers in full bloom, neatly lined pathways, students walking past with books in their arms, laughter echoing faintly.
’This...this was what I had missed.’
My hand brushed against the cold windowsill as I leaned forward.
’No wonder Hana was obsessed with this game.’
The academy setting alone was enough to make one feel that way. She had seen beauty and adventure here.
I then remembered The Gresha Dispatch.
’sigh...can’t I enjoy my peaceful thoughts even for a minute?’
My chest tightened as my mind replayed the cycles I had endured...cycles even I hadn’t realized I was trapped in.
The last one... the three children.
The image of my blade piercing that small boy’s chest resurfaced in vivid clarity. My hand moved unconsciously, pushing my hair back, as though trying to brush away the guilt that clung to me.
I had saved them this time.
Through regression, through dying and returning, I had managed to rewrite their outcomes.
Most of the missing children were found lifeless... empty husks who would never smile again.
But at the very least, their innocent souls were not turned into puppets. Not twisted into abominations.
That was the one small comfort I clung to.
When we returned to the ISD, Sister Magdalene was questioned.
Her words still rang in my ears.
She confessed only about Elian, the old caretaker of the chapel.
A man who had lost three sons and a daughter.
Disciples of the Wretched Faith whispering promises, offered him the chance to bring them back.
The Empire took that as confirmation. A clean case. Another crime of the Wretched Faith.
But I... I could not.
Because I remembered the female figure with the mask, veiling only her eyes, her voice carrying an edge of seduction and mockery.
She had mentioned the Bishop.
So had Elian.
Right before I tried to arrest him, he said the same name.
The Bishop.
Tha woman also mentioned that The Bishop requests a meeting.
She told me I would know when the invitation came.
Because I was a member too.
My hands clenched at the memory.
That means... the original Noel had been part of their gatherings.
That woman hadn’t mistaken me for someone else. She recognized me.
The more I live in this body, the more the mysteries pile up.
Considering how she mentioned its members wear masks to conceal identities and prevent minor internal fights only shows it wouldn’t be an organization approved by the Holy Empire.
A Criminal Organization then?
Her words echoed again.
"Mr. Arsene..."
I leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling.
Mr. Arsene.
Was that a persona the original Noel had used?
Or a code name used in said organization?
If I wanted answers, I’d have to wait for the Bishop’s invitation.
I just didn’t know how it would arrive.
I sighed, dragging my hand down my face.
The plague doctor mask lay hidden inside my travel bag.
No wonder the woman recognized it.
Was that why the original Noel always travelled with it?
"...Just what kind of life did you live before I came here?"
---
I almost forgot about the mission clearance rewards.
The moment I called out the system, a holographic screen unfolded before me—and in the middle of it, a stupidly cheerful, pixelated emoji beamed up at me.
"...Wipe that smug off...
Where were you when I was going through hell at Gresha?"
As if it understood my irritation, the emoji flickered. The smiling face disappeared, replaced with a teary-eyed frown, as though it were trying to apologize.
I narrowed my eyes.
...Did it not know either?
At first, I’d assumed the whole ordeal at Gresha was orchestrated by the system itself. But judging by this expression, maybe not.
Strange. Very strange.
"Open missions."
The yellow screen responded instantly, expanding with a soft hum.
"Accept Rewards."
The button displayed a clicking animation after uttering those words before pixels of light began forming together infront of me.
And there, floating in the air, was something new.
A cube.
It was translucent, glowing faintly white, like frost captured in glass. At its heart, one of the countless white squares gleamed blue
.〈 [Mission Clearance Reward: Memory Fragment Cube] 〉
A message scrolled across the screen.
Every mission cleared... a blue fragment would be embedded into the cube. Just like that, one by one, the fragments would reveal themselves. By twisting and turning the cube, aligning the blue squares together, I could unlock the hidden memory sealed inside.
So this was no ordinary puzzle. This was a container for pieces of myself.
"...Does that mean every white square has to turn blue before I can recover everything?"
〈 Fragments on the Cube can only be earned through Main Missions. 〉
Main missions, huh?
I leaned back in my chair. If I had to guess, they’d be tied to my current work as a civil servant. The kind of jobs where death is unavoidable.
My lips pressed into a thin line.
Still, I need these fragments. If I’m ever going to mend this body’s fractured relationships... if I want to understand not just Noel Grenn, but this world itself... I’ll need all of them.
Fine then. I’ll collect them all, and when it’s done ...I’ll be free.
A thought struck me suddenly.
"...I wonder if Noel’s other persona... Mr. Arsène will get main missions too."
That crow mask, with the herbs packed inside it amplified my authority far more than expected. When I return home, I’ll need to study those herbs carefully.
With that, I raised my hand, and glass shards danced together in the air. They fused, shaping themselves into a revolver that gleamed like fragile crystal, yet pulsed with power.
For now, the mission board was blank. No main quests.
"...Guess I’ll wait," I muttered.
But the system wasn’t finished. Another window flickered open, branching from the original like a side panel in a game.
〈 Side Quest Available: [Start a Club]
Reward: System Points → Unlock System Shop 〉
"Oh?"
That was interesting.
Before I could explore it further...
Knock! Knock!
The system screen blinked out of existence, along with the glass revolver.
"Hello, sir."
Claire stepped inside, holding a silver tray. On it, a mug of steaming tea.
"Here’s your afternoon tea."
I sat down, letting her place it on the desk. The aroma curled up like a gentle fog.
"...I heard my LOA arrived later than expected."
I said casually.
Claire’s expression tightened. She apologized, bowing slightly, explaining she’d been caught up in other matters.
I didn’t press the issue. Instead, I shifted the conversation, as cold and abrupt as this body demanded.
"All Senior instructors are expected to oversee a club of their choice or make one if none fit their interest..."
"I’ve been considering something..."
I pushed a piece of paper across the desk, fresh from the silver typewriter.
Claire picked it up, her eyes scanning the page. For a moment, they widened—then flicked back to me, disbelief etched across her face.
"Is this yours... sir?"
"Yes. Is there something wrong with it?"
"Umm... not really, it’s just that..."
Her lips trembled faintly.
"...This is a—"
***
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed along the marble corridor of the Magic Engineering Tower.
Lumi’s twin buns of light-pink hair bounced wildly with every step, her ribbon ties fluttering behind her as if they too were impatient to arrive.
Students turned their heads as she darted past, some startled, others simply accustomed to her bursts of energy.
"Excuse me! Pardon me! Emergency friendship business!"
Lumi sang as she zigzagged down the hallway.
At last, she pushed open the heavy double doors of Ganesha Hall, the largest lecture hall in the tower.
The room was empty...desks polished and rows silent except for one familiar figure moving at the front.
Just as she expected.
"Grassia!"
Lumi called out, her voice ringing across the hall like a silver bell.
The girl at the podium, her brown hair swaying a bit looked up from adjusting a curious magical apparatus. Grassia’s calm eyes blinked once, then softened as she smiled faintly.
"I knew it was you..."
She said, hands still carefully arranging crystal dials on the machine.
"Why are you always running in here like the tower’s on fire?"
"Because it is! At least in my heart!"
Lumi bounded down the steps and skidded to a stop beside her best friend.
"Come with me, right now!"
Grassia tilted her head, confusion written all over her face.
"I can’t. I need to set these up before the next class begins.
Senior Instructor Noel has returned, you know. He doesn’t tolerate sloppiness."
Lumi’s eyes sparkled. She leaned in close, almost nose-to-nose.
"Exactly! That’s what I came to talk to you about!"
Grassia groaned lightly, her shoulders slumping.
"Don’t tell me this is another one of your schemes to get him and Madam Mel together. Lumi, you’ve already—"
"For now, it’s not that!"
Lumi huffed, puffing her cheeks like a child.
Then, in a smaller mutter.
"...But I’m still not giving up on that."
Grassia pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Then what is it this time?"
"You know how all the big professors are taking up clubs or even starting their own, right?"
Lumi began, rocking on her heels with excitement.
"Well...Senior Instructor Noel started his own too.
There’s already a sign-up table at the academy’s Grand Hall."
Grassia raised a brow.
"Don’t tell me you’re planning to join.
You can’t. You’re already hopelessly entangled with the embroidery club."
"I’m not signing up, silly! I just had to know what kind of club it was."
Lumi’s grin widened.
"After all, Senior Instructor Noel is Nox’s big brother."
Before Grassia could even form a refusal, Lumi had already seized her hand.
"Wait—Lumi! I haven’t finished setting up—"
Too late. Lumi bolted out of Ganesha Hall, dragging Grassia behind her like a leaf caught in a whirlwind.
The Grand Hall was alive with chatter. Banners fluttered above booths, each decorated according to the club’s theme. Students crowded in front of tables, filling the vast hall with a mix of laughter and negotiation.
"Ow—ow—my wrist! Lumi!"
Grassia scolded, stumbling behind her.
"Do you want me to lose my hand before embroidery class?"
"Sacrifices must be made!"
Lumi declared solemnly, though her bouncing steps betrayed her joy.
They weaved through a sea of booths...one advertising magical dueling, another with shelves of enchanted instruments, yet another where a student was half-heartedly trying to recruit for the Geological Appreciation Club.
Then, they stopped.
Grassia’s jaw fell open.
Before them stretched a table more elaborate than the rest.
It was covered with a white cloth embroidered in gold thread, stacked with plates of colorful light snacks—savory skewers of glazed meat, rolled egg omelets with herbs, golden fried lotus roots dusted with salt, crisp vegetable wraps bound with thin rice paper, delicate cheese-stuffed peppers, and even bite-sized rice balls seasoned with sesame.
Her hand moved almost unconsciously. She picked up a small skewer of chicken glazed in honey-soy sauce, took a bite...
...and froze.
"It’s sooooo good..."
Grassia’s eyes fluttered shut, her expression melting in bliss.
Her words came out muffled as she chewed.
When she finally opened her eyes again...
...she met a pair of sharp, golden eyes staring right back at her.
The man standing behind the booth had slicked-back black hair that gleamed under the hall’s chandeliers. He wore a sharp grey suit, its elegance somewhat disarmed by the plain black apron tied over it. Yet rather than clashing, the contrast only gave him a strangely dignified aura, as though even cooking were an art of authority under his hands.
Her eyes widened in shock.
The piece of chicken slipped from her lips and fell, splattering pitifully onto the floor.
Lumi threw an arm around her shoulder with a dramatic flourish.
"TADAAA~!"
Grassia, still frozen, forced herself to glance at the booth’s name board.
There, in elegant gold letters, were the words...
[Delights Club].