A certain old underground warehouse in the Genen Autonomous Region. Investigator Zendo came down here alone at someone's summons. “.......” A silence hung heavy in the space. Zendo's heart pounded with weight. It felt like he had placed his own neck on the guillotine. The other party was a figure of unfathomable power. If displeased, he could cut Zendo off at any moment. “You’ve arrived.” From the deep shadows of the warehouse, a person appeared. Zendo turned his gaze toward the figure. A man with an expressionless face stood there. “Yes. For what reason have you called me...?” “There is something I must deliver to you. Go ahead and open it.” The man pointed to a pile of boxes stacked on one side of the warehouse. Zendo hesitated as he approached and lifted the lid. “...Wh-What is this?” It was filled with cutting-edge investigative equipment that even the investigators of the Autonomous Region had never laid eyes on: the latest mana tracker, miniature wiretaps, long-distance listening devices. There was even a state-of-the-art mana rifle. “These are items sponsored by the knight.” “Pardon?” “Use them as you see fit to aid your investigation.” “.......” As Zendo stood in confusion, Dieter handed him a check. “This is also for operational expenses. We will not question how it is spent, but use it properly. Corruption always finds a way to be exposed.” Zendo looked at the check. There were many zeros written on it. The signature of Ebenholtz was clearly there as well. His head went blank, unable to comprehend what was happening. “The knight’s words are written on the back. Now then, I’ll take my leave.” “...Ah, goodbye.” As he watched the retreating figure, Dieter, Zendo flipped the check over. A sentence written in elegant cursive was inscribed there. [Remember this. If you rush for results and vent your anger on anyone you can grab, you won’t even reach the toes of the Revolutionary forces. You and I may share the same goal.] Zendo’s eyes widened. He quickly turned to look toward the exit, but Dieter had already vanished without a trace. *** A knight’s duties are many and varied, but among them, the most important task is dealing with ‘special criminals’. Ordinary criminals can be handled adequately by the police. Even those who can clumsily wield mana can be turned into a beehive thanks to the advancement of firearms. But knights deal with those beyond that level. Those who have received professional training in mana, or have, through some incident, surpassed human limits. Because of that, a knight must be more adept in mana than anyone else, and analyzing evidence from mana-related incidents also falls under a knight’s responsibilities. “.......” I pressed my temples while staring at the mountain of paperwork on the desk. My head throbbed, but I picked up a sheet anyway. [Case Number 1038077-C0-23: Request for Mana Residue Analysis ─ Noble Murder Case on the Outskirts of the Capital] A photo was enclosed in the case file. It was taken by reproducing the residue of mana. “Residue.......” After mana is used, there is always a trace left behind, and a special solution used in investigations activates that trace to be visible to the naked eye. This phenomenon is called ‘activated residue’ and becomes a key piece of evidence in tracking mana criminals. This is because the nature, properties, traits, and patterns of mana vary from person to person. This world is full of all kinds of people. Not just the Ezenheim race. There are those who abuse mana however they want after learning it, crime syndicates, and bottom-dwellers who wield mana as a weapon to survive. One of a knight’s primary duties is to capture such people, so analyzing activated residue is a core curriculum in the Knight Order. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it’s one of the most important curriculums. “...This is driving me crazy.” I was a failure in that field. I never had the talent to begin with, but the complex and chaotic nature of activated residue was especially overwhelming. The technique of gathering mana fragments, more scattered than blood splatter, to reconstruct the scene. For someone lacking patience and full of inferiority, such analysis and memorization are nothing but a source of intense disgust. “Whew.......” I had to break free from that past. I fixed my gaze on the crime scene photo. How did I analyze residue again? It had been a required subject since my student days, so I had done it a few times long ago, but I couldn’t even get a basic grasp of it now. ──Thump. At that moment, the virus inside me reacted. My vision was suddenly tinted blue. At the same time, the distorted residue beside the fatal wound in the photo began to move. As if time were rewinding, the shape of mana revived over the photo. Its flow and pattern unfolded three-dimensionally. The scene reconstructed itself on my retina. “...Hand.” The suspect had condensed mana in their palm and discharged it all at once. The lump of mana exploded the moment it touched the victim’s body, leaving behind an irregular scatter. The nature of the mana was ‘emission’. Furthermore, the density was extremely high. In other words, the suspect was a skilled practitioner who had trained in mana for a long time and used it through their hands. Moreover, the way the mana was manifested felt strangely familiar, as if I had seen it somewhere before. A group of people who train themselves and live in self-imposed abstinence. Monks. I began writing the report on the computer. [Case Number 1038077-C0-23: Analysis Report] [Analyst: Maximilian Ebenholtz] [The suspect uses a method of concentrating mana in the palm and discharging it. The nature of the mana is ‘emission-type’, and based on the control ability and density, the suspect is presumed to be highly skilled. It is recommended to investigate monasteries in proximity to the crime scene......] “...You’re good at this.” I praised the virus. I didn’t know what it was, but at the very least, it seemed to have deep insight into mana. There was still a lot of paperwork left. [Case Number 1038179-C0-19: Serial Killing of Mercenaries in the Back Alley of District 23] The virus reassembled the activated residue with ease and projected it onto my retina, and I analyzed the scene based on that information. [Case Number 1038179-C0-19: Analysis Report] [Analyst: Maximilian Ebenholtz] [The suspect projects mana in precise forms......] Tick. [Case Number 1038352-C1-25: Analysis Report] [Analyst: Maximilian Ebenholtz] [The suspect......] Tick. [Case Number 1038995-C1-59: Analysis Report] [Case Number 1038995-C1-93: Analysis Report] [Case Number 1038995-C1-99: Analysis Report] Tick. I looked at the clock. I had started work at 8 a.m., and it was now noon. In four hours, I had processed a week’s worth of paperwork. ─Knock knock. Someone knocked on my office door. “Come in.” The door opened, and Julian walked in. “What brings you here, Sir Julian?” Julian glanced around my office once. “You don’t decorate.” He seemed surprised. Well, before the regression, I had gone completely wild with my office. I once decorated it in northern snowfield style, then got tired of it and changed it to a southern resort theme... “How’s the ‘Brain-Eater’ case coming along?” “Yes. I've identified the suspect.” “Impressive.” Julian didn’t show much reaction. It felt like he either thought I was bluffing or he genuinely accepted it. I could never read him. Julian spoke. "There's a place to deploy to. Change into plain clothes and follow me.” “Yes.” We met in the parking lot in plain clothes. Coincidentally, our outfit colors were similar. Julian wore a black leather jacket, and I wore a black coat. We both covered our noticeably blond hair with hats. “We’re taking the car.” “Yes.” There were separate deployment vehicles for knights. If desired, one could even ride a horse, but in this day and age, that stood out too much. By habit, I got into the passenger seat. At the natural movement, Julian, who had been heading for the driver’s seat, paused. “.......” Then he stared directly at me. “?” I blinked and belatedly realized my mistake. “Ah.” I moved to the driver’s seat. “It shows in small moments like this.” Julian got into the passenger seat. “To District 43.” “Yes.” I smirked bitterly and stepped on the accelerator. Vroooom──! The engine output of the knight order’s exclusive vehicle was excellent. “Is it just the two of us?” “Yes.” A knight is an elite force, each one equivalent to at least a company. Two knights are the equivalent of hundreds of military or police personnel. We arrived at the slum in District 43, on the outskirts of the central Imperial Capital. “Get out.” “Yes.” We got out of the car and walked along the roadside. It didn’t take long before the stench hit us. Filth clung to every corner of the pavement like living things, and forms indistinguishable as human or corpse were strewn about. “There’s a drug cartel based in this area.” “Your specialty, it seems, Sir Knight.” “It just ended up that way.” Julian’s voice was calm as always. He always maintained a consistent tone, but underneath it was a deep weariness. Mister... Mister... Just a coin... Just a coin, please... I’m hungry... Voices begging on the street echoed around us. There were children. There were elderly. All faces, either drained of life from hunger or glazed over from drugs. This is what District 43 was always like. It bordered the Underground City and was known as the worst slum in the Empire. “I sometimes think this when I come here.” Julian suddenly spoke. “What exactly went wrong with these people, and when?” He looked ahead. His gaze was not swayed by the vagrants. “To have ended up living like this.” I understood why Julian had brought me here. He wanted to show me something. Perhaps, the reality of people detached from the world of nobility. “Any one of them could’ve been one of us. And any one of us could’ve been one of them.” Julian was a man of firm conviction. A resolute person. I would never be able to persuade him, but even so, I would respect that part of him. Julian stopped near an abandoned building. “Maximilian. What do you think?” I answered him. “I don’t think anything at all.” Julian silently asked for the meaning behind my words. “I don’t have the time to concern myself with the bottom. No world can ever truly eliminate hunger or evil. Counting those people one by one is no different than trying to count grains of sand while walking along the beach.” My awareness as a noble... Such things had already been shattered before the regression. I was not a chosen man, and Ebenholtz was not a noble family in the truest sense. “We have a purpose. We must keep moving toward it.” Now, I had found a purpose. It was the ambition to survive, and the cause to not fall to ruin. “If we spend time worrying about the insignificant, the world will collapse, Sir Julian.” A faint smile spread on Julian’s lips. Perhaps he liked my answer. But probably not. I had spoken something completely contrary to his beliefs. Yet Julian never judged others recklessly. He never tried to force others to change. He simply accepted things as they were. “I see. That could be true.” Julian gestured somewhere with his eyes. “Get ready, Maximilian.” “Yes, Sir Julian.” I called out to Julian. He turned to look at me with one hand resting on his hip. “You may call me Max, if you prefer.” Julian was a true noble. Born into one of the upper noble families, and having walked only the elite path. Even so, he looked down from above, and agonized endlessly. He built beliefs different from the life he had lived, and at the most critical moments, he threw himself into what he believed was ‘right’. That unwavering righteousness of his was the reason I had been able to break free from the Empire’s indoctrination. ──And so, the world had ended. “...Max.” Julian spoke my name as he drew his weapon. A broadsword whose blade had been thinned from having cut through so much. “Draw your sword now.” I nodded and unsheathed my sword. Julian pointed to a part of the wall far from the entrance of the building. A knight is stronger than most tanks. There was no need to enter through the door like a normal person. “Go.” “Yes.” At Julian’s command, I swung my longsword. Shrrrk──! As I cleaved through the building’s wall entirely, I thought this. Could I, someday, cut down Julian.