*

...Cancel.

　Makoto dematerialized and looked at the five-inch nail-sized stake stuck in the ground once again.
　The stake turned into jet-black flames and disappeared into the air as it melted.

''Hey, what's going on?''
I don't know what I'm talking about.

　He replies to Yuka as she runs up to him.

'Retreat!'

　Multiple footsteps are approaching us.
　As I was wondering if I should run away, the guards surrounded Makoto and the others and pointed their spears at us.
　Yuka pulled away from Makoto and held up her hands.

''I had nothing to do with it!''
Hey!
Okay?　I'll get you a good lawyer and you can testify that I didn't have anything to do with it, okay?
You're refreshingly self-centered, you know that?

　I want my grilled sausage money back.

"I mean, what kind of lawyer does this world have?
I'm going to kill them all. Maybe we can use violence to rule this world.
You're changing so fast!

　Why hasn't the idea of talking about it come up?

You don't like killing people, do you?
Kill one and you're a murderer, but kill 10,000 and you're a hero. As far as I'm concerned, if you do it on a large scale, you'll be appreciated.

　Who the hell summoned this woman to another world?

'Well, wait!

　A woman I know - Laura appears, pushing the guards away.

'I suppose this clears up any misunderstandings.
I'll take her as a hostage if I have to.

　Mako couldn't help but look at Yuka.

'What's with that doppelganger-esque look on your face?'
What's that look you get when you look at your doppelganger?
'You look like you've seen a doppelganger, you look like you've seen a doppelganger.
I don't know!

　Mako exclaimed in annoyance.

'This man is an acquaintance of mine. Please stow your weapons.'

　Laura said, and the guards drew their weapons.

'What happened?'
They've taken Chris.
I know that.

　After all, he was kidnapped right in front of me.

"He was kidnapped right in front of me, right?
Don't push me around. I'll lead you down the road.
I'm sure the killer has a lot of experience.

　Yuka raised her eyebrows in difficulty.

''Makoto-sama, Yuka-sama could you please help me?''
On the money.

　Yuka said, forming a circle with her thumb and forefinger.

'Ten thousand A's a day, every member,'
I understand.
What?

　Laura answered immediately, and Yuka's cheeks twitched.
　She didn't expect to be able to accept the condition of 10,000A--one million yen per day.
　But if it was to help the lord, he would accept that level of condition.
　Only 10,000A is enough?　Lucky!　It's possible that they think.

'You get paid for success too, right?'
We'll pay you an additional 10,000 A when Chris comes back safe and sound.
Okay, fine. I'll help you.

　Yuka's chest heaved arrogantly, but her eyes were swimming.
　I guess I better not leave the negotiations to this guy, Makoto let out a sigh.



　When Christine woke up, she found herself in what appeared to be a warehouse.
　A white light was shining through the window, as if it had been some time since she had lost consciousness.
　I heard sobbing, so I moved my eyes only to check my surroundings.
　There are about ten children in the warehouse, and a bald-headed man is watching them.
　The bald-headed man is carrying a club.
　It's a crudely made club, but it's probably powerful enough to cave in your skull.
　At a time like this, you should keep quiet.
　It will reduce the wear and tear on your physical strength and keep a low profile.
　That way, it will be easier to escape when the need arises.

Thank God you're awake. I'm glad you're awake.
...Ug.

　Suddenly, a voice called out to me and I moaned softly.
　When I look at the voice, I see a boy - probably the same age as Christine, or older - there.
　He was chubby compared to the other children.

'Are you okay?　Where does it hurt?
....

　The boy shook Christine with concern.
　Why should he care when he wanted her to leave him alone?
　But if he did this much and didn't reply, it would leave an impression.
　The bald-headed man might come to check on her.
　I had no choice but to get up.

'I was worried about you because you didn't wake up easily. What's your name?
Chris.
I'm Ernest, and everyone calls me Ernie.
"Hey, fatty!　Quiet!
That's right, Fatty!

　The fat boy and the skinny boy at a distance uttered a derogatory word, and Ernest's shoulders narrowed.
　At any rate, Christine would call the fat boy Jumbo and the skinny boy Slim.

'I thought they called you Ernie?'
My friends call me that.
...a friend.

　Christine looked around again.
　The other children sat with their knees near Jumbo and Slim.

'Do you have a friend?'
He's not here.

　Ernest's lips twitched in a sultry way.

'Even I have the urge to look good for the first pretty girl I meet.
Yes, I know how you feel, but who do you call Ernie, after all?
Your father and mother will call you that.

　Ernest answered after a pause.

'Enough about me. Where do you go to school?'
He hasn't been to school.

　Christine is the lord of the Earl of Elway.
　She is unable to attend the city school due to safety concerns.
　She has hired a well-placed female governess to help her with her studies.

Where do you go to school, my lord?
I'm a public servant.

　There is only one public school in Rockwell.
　We were going to raise people who would be useful in managing the territory by giving them a proper education from an early age--''

I see. So these are your classmates?
Yeah, well, yeah.

　Ernest's answer was anything but crisp.
　'I can understand why you don't want to admit you're a classmate when you've been subjected to so much derogatory language.

''I suppose education doesn't necessarily make them grow up to be decent, does it?
'If you can become a person of character just by being taught to study, it's not hard. My mom says that poetry makes your heart grow fonder...
Yeah?

　He nodded his head when he was suddenly told about his mother.

'I wouldn't have a hard time if it made me feel good enough to write poetry. They made me write the same poem over and over again and I hated it.

　Ernest said with a sigh.

'Besides, Dad says that a sound mind is inhabited by a sound body...'
You don't have to finish. You're not good at exercise, are you?

　Christine said as she looked at Ernest.
　'Not many people would look at his chubby body and judge him to be good at exercise.

'Not good at it?　Not good at it?
Mm, are you good at this?
'No way!　Look at my body. How can you look at this body and say I'm not good at it is an understatement.

　Ernest spread his arms out in an exaggerated manner.
　He looked like a clown in a play.

'The exercise ... no?'
'Well, you know. We're training for combat at school... but we're using wards to weaken the power.
Hmm, that's the idea that training from an early age would make you a good knight.
The doctor said that too, but I hope you're not going to give me a break.

　Ernest said sadly.

'Why not?'
I don't like violence, you know.
No, no, no, there's a difference between combat training and violence.
'It's the same. At least for me, I can't tell the difference between being tormented outside of school and losing in combat training.
Are you a f*cking coward?
'Chris, put yourself in my shoes, I always lose. The girls make fun of me for looking so clumsy, right?
You should try harder.
Effort!

　Ernest peeled his eyes away as if his eyeballs were about to spill out.

'Does it look like I'm not trying?'

　The mood was such that I couldn't say I could see it.

'I've tried, too,'
I see.

　Christine narrowed her eyes, trying to look for signs of effort.
　But she couldn't find any of those things on her chubby body.

'By the way, Ernest,'
What is it?
You said these people here are your classmates, is that correct?
You said so. Didn't you hear me?
I was just checking to make sure.

　Christine said back, annoyed.

'How good are you in combat?'
At least you're stronger than I am.
I see.

　I thought that if I incited them well, I could buy myself some time to escape, but it would be difficult since Jumbo and Slim were directing feelings of hostility towards us.

''Well I'm a pretty girl, you know.
'Chris, you shouldn't call yourself pretty,'
Isn't it true?
I don't care how cute he is, if he says it himself, he'll be a pain in the ass.
You're hurting me.

　I thought about beheading him, but his opinion is quite valuable.
　I don't mind if he thinks I'm a clown.
　Come to think of it, I'm only surrounded by serious people.
　I think we need this kind of look from the bottom to judge whether what we are doing is right or not.

'I'm going to bed.'
Are you mad at me?
I'm not angry.

　You must sleep to preserve your strength.

''Well then,''

　Christine muttered softly.
　How did that man select children who were capable of fighting?
　If he investigated, then there is something inexplicable about it.
　Christine's skills were not known to anyone.
　If we don't figure out what kind of skills the man has, we may never get away with it.