* * *
Ateol looked exactly like Caleus, and Caleus looked exactly like the emperor.
If anything, it would be more believable to suspect that Caleus had a child at twelve years old.
But if that were the case, the emperor would be just as antagonistic toward Caleus.
He wouldn’t be doting on his thirty-eight-year-old son like he was now.
“So tell me—how could I not see them as fools?”
“Well…”
I let out a deep sigh in agreement.
If the emperor genuinely believed that his youngest son—who was a spitting image of both his eldest and himself—was illegitimate, then he wasn’t just ordinary.
He was downright foolish.
“We’ve arrived.”
“Ah.”
The moment I looked up at his words, lips pressed against mine.
Ateol kissed me—long, relentless, and persistent—only pulling away when I shoved him back.
Then, with a smirk, he wiped my lips with his thumb and opened the carriage door.
Outside, Cloden and Serta were waiting.
Nothing we did in the carriage should’ve been obvious… right?
I pulled my hood lower and turned my collar up as I stepped down, walking straight into the tower without looking back.
From my room, I looked out the window.
Only then did I see Ateol finally stepping into his carriage.
I watched as the carriage faded into the distance, thoughts turning to the divine revelation—the one urging the emperor’s abdication.
What did it mean?
And more importantly… how would it affect me?
‘No way…’
Was Ateol the main character this time?
Or had there been hints all along in the parts I hadn’t read yet?
Was I just some early-game ally meant to disappear after helping out?
That would be a pretty efficient way to use a villain transmigrator like me… at least, from this world’s perspective.
But if Ateol was the protagonist, then what would happen to me after he became emperor?
And what about Yulian?
Why did I even need to raise both of their favorability levels in the first place?
As I sank deeper into thought, my vision flickered.
[Tip: If you don’t capture their interest, you die!]
“……”
I was speechless.
This was supposed to be a tip?
Where was the ‘tip’ in this?
They were just messing with me!
[Tip+Tip: Maybe the fate of the world rests in your hands?]
Argh! That’s just empty motivational talk!
Like saying, ‘Work hard, and you’ll get promoted!’
This system was practically a scam!
[Tip+Tip+Tip: Just like someone who can’t call his father ‘Father’ or his brother ‘Brother’… you can’t call ■■ what it really is… So, favorability is your best bet! ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚ ]
What the hell…?
I was too dumbfounded to even react.
Forget it. I give up.
Shaking my head, I collapsed onto the bed.
That night, I was haunted by nightmares and an overwhelming sense of dread.
ꔚ
Going out with Ateol had become a routine.
Today, we visited a fruit farm that only opened during the summer.
Between the fresh green leaves of summer, bright red berries hung heavily from the branches.
Groups of visitors, couples, and families strolled around, laughing joyfully as they picked fruit.
I sat in the shade, savoring a moment of peace.
Ateol was beside me, watching the people enthusiastically plucking berries.
“It looks fun.”
“Why don’t you give it a try?”
“I do have a certain dignity to uphold.”
If dignity could be ruined just by picking a few berries, then it wasn’t worth having in the first place.
Not that dignity was the reason I was sitting here, anyway.
Even though my robe kept me from feeling the heat, the thought of squeezing through the crowd sounded exhausting.
Watching from the sidelines suited me much better.
“Shall I have some fruit brought over? And something cold to drink?”
Both sounded like a great idea.
At Ateol’s gesture, a servant hurried off and soon returned with freshly picked raspberries and a chilled, fizzy drink.
Ateol pushed the golden tray toward me and said:
“The breeze feels nice. It’s not too hot, either. No one would notice anything here, no matter what we do.”
“So?”
Ateol shrugged, unfastened his cloak, and set it aside.
He seemed to enjoy the summer heat—something I, having spent my life suffering through hot weather, couldn’t quite understand.
But that was my life back on Earth.
Here, I rarely had to deal with heat.
So, giving in just a little, I took off my robe as well.
The sunlight filtering through the trees was pleasantly warm, and the soft breeze, carrying the scent of fresh grass, felt refreshing.
As I ran a hand through my wind-tousled hair, I glanced at Ateol.
He looked like he was about to say something—then, in an instant, he leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to my lips, and pulled back as if nothing had happened.
Going out with Ateol always felt like this.
And every time, my affection meter ticked up just a little.
It was like a dating sim event straight out of a game—right down to Ateol’s face looking like a special CG illustration.
And so, my life continued, focused entirely on pursuing this one character.
Then, one day, the summer rains began.
It started as an unexpected drizzle, not mentioned in any forecast.
We hurried back to the carriage—only to witness someone rushing out of a run-down house.
At the time, I thought nothing of it.
I never imagined it would lead to something so serious.
I never thought I’d hear the words “serial killer” in this world.
For the past few days, the capital had been in turmoil.
A series of murders had been discovered, all committed in the same gruesome manner.
The first body had been found the very day Ateol and I had gone out—the same day we saw that person running from the house.
That person wasn’t the killer. If they were, we would have already been questioned by now.
They had simply been the unlucky one to discover the first victim.
Of course, the unluckiest one was the person who got killed.
Three murders in five days. Each body was found with a note beside it.
“To His Majesty, who so generously bestows his benevolence—cease your unjust and treasonous demands.”
In other words, stop demanding the Emperor’s abdication.
Naturally, the entire city was in chaos.
Anywhere two or more people gathered, discussions about the case were inevitable.
Within the Tower, thanks to Cloden and Serta keeping a tight lid on things, no one dared bring it up.
But beyond the palace walls, even the servants whispered about it with grave expressions.
This incident emboldened those who opposed the abdication.
At its core, it was a battle between the authority of the Temple and the power of the Emperor—or, more specifically, this Emperor.
Some people believed a ruler should be revered as a divine figure, regardless of their political ability.
Opinions spread like wildfire.
“The abdication should never have been suggested in the first place.”
“No, this could be a plot by the Emperor’s faction. He should step down immediately.”
Rumors splintered into countless variations, twisting and multiplying.
Some even claimed they had seen the Emperor—or the Empress—emerging, drenched in blood, from an eerie, abandoned cabin.
I wasn’t willing to believe that, even as someone who had essentially become the Emperor’s political adversary.
Neither the Emperor nor the Empress had the physical strength to kill a fully grown adult and leave them in such a state.
So far, all the victims had been devout temple-goers.
That was the only connection between them.
Fewer people dared to visit the temple, yet the most zealous worshippers became even more fervent.
The debate over abdication grew louder, with both sides refusing to back down.
Requests for audiences with the Tower flooded in, but thanks to Cloden’s quick thinking, they were all rejected. Instead, letters arrived in droves.
Even after filtering out the nonsense, the remaining messages covered every possible reaction—some filled with concern, others urging me to ignore the chaos and push forward.
But I already knew what needed to be done.
Ateol and I had to solve this case ourselves.
* * *
