* * *
As expected… Ranshel tightened his grip on his throbbing hand, ready to sever Doter’s artery at any moment.
Then he widened his eyes in mock confusion, feigning innocence.
“What are you saying…? That I tried to harm the young master?”
“Oh, you’re quite the actor. Should I get you a spot on a theater stage sometime?”
Doter scoffed. Ranshel kept his expression bewildered, but his mind was working rapidly.
Hans was assigned to poison Zavad, whereas Doter’s role was to eliminate any assassins who posed a threat to him.
From the start, they had been inserted into the guard corps with completely opposing objectives.
‘They must have received orders from different people.’
Which meant Ranshel was not Doter’s priority.
If he belonged to the faction protecting Zavad, then he wasn’t worth ranking on the contribution list.
The key was this: don’t let anyone else eliminate a villain and steal your contribution points.
But then—who exactly did make it onto that list?
The list, composed of only titles and not names, made it difficult to identify the villains.
Ranshel needed to understand the why first.
Why were so many people targeting Zavad?
Back then, Ranshel had gotten a lead through Petro.
He learned that Petro had been lured in by a royal guard and had drugged Zavad with a hallucinogen.
The guard who used Petro was part of an imperial faction opposing the Empress.
Ranshel figured many on the contribution list likely belonged to that group.
After all, they had plenty of reasons to harm Zavad.
The former saint, now Empress, held her power through the support of the Great Temple.
Even the Emperor, the nominal ruler of the empire, couldn’t treat her carelessly.
Such was the Church’s immense influence in the Empire.
However, if something happened to Zavad, who was under the Empress’s divine protection, people would start questioning her abilities.
Since her power stemmed from a divine oracle, even the slightest doubt about its authenticity could unravel her whole faction in an instant.
That’s why those who sought the Empress’s downfall repeatedly tried to drive Zavad insane—through hallucinations via Petro, high fevers caused by demon blood, and more.
But now someone was targeting Ranshel instead of Zavad.
Which meant…
‘Did the Empress find out about me?’
After the fire incident in Zavad’s room, the imperial family had approved his enrollment in the sacred academy, judging that his life was in danger.
And if they’d found out that the fire occurred after a change in Zavad’s assigned servant, it would be natural for them to suspect Ranshel.
The Empress could have slipped Doter into the guard corps to take care of Ranshel.
But—
‘Doter suddenly changed his mind.’
Why?
Ranshel kept his expression confused and startled as he studied Doter’s face.
Doter, for his part, kept glancing at Ranshel out of the corner of his eye, even as he looked ahead.
He was reading Ranshel’s expressions, gauging his reactions, probing with subtle questions.
Ranshel made a judgment.
‘He’s not sure.’
Whoever gave Doter the order likely suspected Ranshel was the assassin, but didn’t have solid proof.
That’s why Doter was planted to observe Ranshel—so that, once proof emerged, he could eliminate him immediately.
Whether Ranshel was an assassin targeting Zavad or not—that decision was left to Doter.
But Doter had seemed certain, even going so far as to shove Ranshel into the carriage.
So why the sudden shift in attitude?
‘Because whatever “proof” he had that I was after Zavad—it’s no longer convincing.’
Ranshel didn’t yet know what that proof had been.
It’s not like he could crack open Doter’s skull and check.
But if doubt had crept into Doter’s mind and it was causing hesitation, then Ranshel had to exploit that to its fullest.
He made up his mind and spoke.
“I don’t know what kind of misunderstanding you’re under… but I have no intention of killing the young master.”
“Huh? Still trying to act like some ordinary servant? Even with a blade in your hand?”
“No, I’m not denying that I’m an assassin.”
“Then what?”
“I’m saying I don’t plan to kill the young master.”
In truth, Ranshel was indeed hired to assassinate Zavad.
But Cha Eunseong—the person now inhabiting Ranshel—had no intention of doing so.
It just so happened that when he got isekai’d into the game, his character turned out to be the assassin of the main love interest.
And that was where all the problems began.
“What kind of nonsense is that? You’re the assassin by his side, but you’re not going to kill him?”
Of course it sounded absurd.
But Ranshel had to make the absurd believable.
To deceive someone, you first had to convince them.
What had Doter said again?
‘—I’ve realized you’re more capable than I thought.’
Ranshel had used his unique skill right in front of him.
Precise manipulation of secret techniques was the hallmark of an assassin.
If that display had changed Doter’s mind, then it meant—until that moment—Doter hadn’t believed Ranshel to be a real assassin.
That he was somehow lacking.
‘…Why, though?’
Ranshel felt a bit insulted.
He hadn’t even shown much of anything—so where did that judgment come from?
Regardless, he had to turn Doter’s assumptions to his advantage.
Yes, he was an assassin.
But—
“I’m just not here to kill the young master.”
Zavad was not his target.
“If you’re going to make excuses, at least put some effort into—”
“No, you should start reading the situation properly. If I were really here to assassinate the young master, do you think he’d still be alive? Shouldn’t a corpse have shown up back at the estate by now?”
Doter, who had been about to scoff in disbelief, suddenly fell silent.
That was it. Ranshel’s eyes lit up.
Doter’s “evidence” was shaken.
Judging by Ranshel’s skill, there was no plausible reason Zavad should still be alive—unless Ranshel had no intention of killing him in the first place.
And once that thought took root, Doter reconsidered.
Ranshel shouldn’t be killed yet.
Not until he understood why.
“You’re free to doubt me,” Ranshel said, “but don’t make rash decisions. If the young master was my target, I’ve already had hundreds—no, thousands—of chances.”
Exactly.
Zavad was not the objective.
But since Ranshel couldn’t reveal his real purpose, he had to fabricate a convincing one.
He had to create a reason: Ranshel had infiltrated the Pomel estate not to kill Zavad, but someone else.
It was a lie, of course.
But it was a far more believable lie than the truth—that he had reincarnated into a game.
Sure enough, Doter, now calmer, asked with a serious tone:
“…Then who is your target?”
He hadn’t decided yet.
“That’s as far as I’ll go. Now it’s your turn, Sir Doter. You were about to kill me—and suddenly did something insane instead. Why? Why are you holding me like this and running away?”
Doter suddenly muttered, as if he’d just realized something:
“Right… I suppose you wouldn’t be able to see it. Assassins specialize in close-range combat, after all.”
“What?”
“Let me correct you first. We’re not running away. We’re chasing.”
“Chasing what?”
“I wasn’t the only one tailing you.”
* * *
omg, so many intersecting plots