Black Badger

Chapter 301: Proof (4)

The dust settled, and I saw the face of my kin.

A man wearing something like a robe, desperately waving his hands. The moment I saw his face, my eyes widened.

I’ve seen him before.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t recall his name. It was strange. I was certain we’d met. Which meant he probably wasn’t one of the kin born after the war.

And yet, the name simply wouldn’t come to me.

There hadn’t been only a few of us. A lot of time had passed, too. And some among my kin were extremely uncomfortable around me. If they were commoners, it was even worse—some would only bob their heads shyly and run away.

Even so, I usually remembered names.

I was good at memorizing faces and names to the point that Reina Kyle often rushed over to me with an SOS at social gatherings.

Or maybe it was like with Lee Seunghyun—someone whose name I simply couldn’t bring to mind.

“Target confirmed. I will take him alive.”

I’d deal with the complicated thoughts later.

I swung my sword widely.

KWA—GWA—GWA—GWA—ANG!

“Hrk!”

The kin recoiled in terror as the sword strike grazed past him.

“I—I don’t even have a weapon!”

The process dragged on.

If it were up to me, I’d have rushed into the abandoned house and carried him out. But things never went that smoothly. The moment I tried to advance, a swarm of Creatures poured over the ridge. It would’ve been easier if they’d come toward me, but instead they charged straight for the seniors repairing the damaged devices.

[Requesting support!]

Jonathan went to assist, widening the distance Trevain and I had to cover.

If I left my position, a hole would open in the defensive line.

He didn’t look like he was about to die, so I’d leave him for now.

As I cut down the pouring Creatures, the kin in the abandoned house moved.

He clumsily gathered himself and stepped out of the ruins.

The kin who emerged from the wreckage sprinted straight toward the Core.

“Surrender!”

The man ran toward us with both arms raised.

“I surrender! I’ll go inside!”

[Do not let him inside!]

Richard shouted thunderously into my ear.

[Trevain! Switch positions with Taleb!]

So he wanted Trevain to take him.

I didn’t complain. After replying that I understood, I ran toward Trevain, who was charging toward my position. Seeing me approach to switch out, the blond senior curled one corner of his mouth upward.

Bang!

He planted a bullet right where my foot was about to land.

Nice aim.

“Let’s see how you handle that.”

He whispered as he brushed past me.

“Stay away from it.”

No complaints.

I didn’t strain to remember the man’s name either. Thinking about it wouldn’t change anything, so I focused on something else.

We needed to wrap this up fast and get back to Center Core within the day.

Driven by sheer determination not to postpone my Lexic noodle promise, I swung my sword relentlessly. While I defended a much wider area than before, Trevain captured the approaching kin.

He didn’t even have to try.

The man didn’t resist.

If anything, he seemed terrified by the strength of Trevain’s grip.

“I—I—I’m really nothing! Please spare me!”

“Shut up.”

Trevain roughly dragged the nameless man along.

“Don’t even think about resisting. I’ll put a bullet through your forehead the second you try.”

“Hiiik!”

He was dragged away, arm in Trevain’s grasp.

I heard the sound of the Core opening. Then I heard the sound of the senior throwing the man into the gap of the opened Core. The man hit the dirt floor hard—THUD! He must have lost his balance when he was shoved.

Rough handling.

I thought that, but didn’t turn to look.

I felt nothing in particular. I wasn’t angry at Trevain, nor did I pity the man being handled roughly. If I were certain he was a complete civilian, I would’ve clashed with Trevain to make sure he was treated gently.

But I still couldn’t remember him, so I suspended judgment.

I didn’t despise Trevain for treating a surrendered man roughly. This was well within acceptable bounds. I’d been born and raised in a far more barbaric era. There were no conventions like the Geneva Conventions. Only nobles were treated humanely upon surrender.

Frankly, the fact that he didn’t just shoot him on the spot was already restraint.

The standoff lasted three hours.

The last hour could barely be called a standoff at all. My kin eventually withdrew the Creatures. The road in front of the safehouse was completely torn up, but the devices were intact.

The air shifted into a lull.

Richard rearranged the deployment. Trevain went inside. The Dobbs Squad members guarding the eastern devices also headed to the safehouse to monitor the humanoid Creature.

I wasn’t allowed inside.

Richard conveniently kept me outside until the core device repairs were finished.

The problem was that Jonathan wasn’t called inside either.

Until the eastern device repairs were complete, Jonathan and I stood blankly outside the Core.

This is awkward.

I looked away and lightly kicked at a pebble.

Every now and then, I felt a gaze like that of a cat watching a bug, but I pretended not to notice.

[Hilde.]

While I stood there avoiding eye contact, Tom spoke to me over the comm.

[Please try talking to him just once.... I think it’ll work out if you muster a bit of courage.]

If I replied, Jonathan might hear.

I gauged the distance with a sideways glance, then shook my head.

If Jonathan were watching me, he’d probably think I’d lost my mind. Or that there was a bug swarming around me.

[How about asking if he’s hurt anywhere?]

Shake.

[What about saying he can go in first if he’s tired?]

Shake.

[It must’ve been really bad when things came out. I can’t really imagine it, but....]

It was.

[Are you even scared to make eye contact?]

When I gave a slight nod, Tom made a thoughtful “Hmm” sound.

Not a sigh—more like genuinely thinking. That was very Tom.

[Maybe things will ease up a bit once the mission’s over.]

How would Jonathan treat the kin inside right now?

The thought crossed my mind, but I didn’t dwell on it.

I’d find out soon enough anyway. What was the point of worrying in advance?

From beyond the comm, I heard Tom pondering. He didn’t need to worry this much. I felt sorry for making things uncomfortable around me, but I was genuinely scared. I didn’t have the courage to speak first.

I wasn’t this timid before.

I guess my disposition changed after falling out with my kin.

Anyway, this isn’t so bad either.

After standing there motionless for a while, staring ahead, another voice came through the comm.

[Come inside.]

The core device repairs were finished.

I quietly turned and followed behind Jonathan as he walked back into the safehouse.

***

The kin whose name I’d forgotten was bound.

A wide, dark space on the second floor of the safehouse. In the center of what must have once been a multipurpose room, my kin was kneeling. His hands were tightly bound behind his back with fishing line. Dobbs Squad members surrounded him in a circle, guns trained on him. The man’s face, positioned at the ends of multiple gun barrels, was completely drained of color.

Jason Trevain and Richard Green stood with their arms crossed, looking down at him.

Tom wasn’t there. He was probably in the control room.

When Jonathan opened the door and stepped in, everyone’s gaze snapped toward us.

More precisely, their gazes flew straight at me.

Jonathan pretended not to notice the stares flying past his shoulder.

“Both devices are operating normally. No abnormalities.”

“Good work.”

Richard replied shortly.

“Step aside now.”

That left me.

The moment Jonathan stepped aside, my view opened.

I took one step past the threshold and faced the kneeling kin.

Short brown hair. Light green eyes.

I looked down at him with my eyes wide open. A few steps ahead, I could see the crown of the man’s head, lowered as he knelt, bound.

Someone who felt familiar, yet whose meeting place I couldn’t recall at all.

I could feel the seniors scrutinizing me.

Ignoring those piercing gazes, I dug through my memories. Now I really wanted to remember his name.

And it felt like it should be time to remember it.

Is it because I’m getting older?

Why does it feel like it’s right there, yet just out of reach...?

“Commander!”

The man lifted his head.

The squad members aiming guns at him flinched. Trevain, Richard, and Jonathan, who had been staring holes into me, all snapped their heads around.

I widened my eyes slightly.

The man beamed at me.

“Knight Commander!”

My left hand remained on my sword hilt, unmoving.

Yet the distance closed.

Because the kin, smiling brightly as he looked up at me, crawled forward on his knees.

The seniors tensed.

“Hey, don’t move!”

“Should I shoot?”

“Leave him.”

“It’s an honor to see you again.”

Dobbs shouted sharply, and the man who had been pointing at me earlier looked anxiously at Richard as he asked. But Richard calmly gave the order.

Trevain’s index finger brushed the gun barrel, but didn’t settle on the trigger.

Jonathan gripped his sword hilt tightly with his right hand.

The air tightened the instant he moved. But the man didn’t care. With eyes filled with a mix of joy and relief, he approached, then stopped a few paces away and lowered his upper body.

This was how low commoners would bow when facing royalty or high nobles.

The man lifted only his head, light green eyes gleaming.

“I’m relieved you’re safe.”

“...Sorry, but what’s your name?”

I muttered without shrinking my gaze.

“I can’t quite remember. I feel like I’ve seen your face before.”

“Someone as insignificant as me—of course you wouldn’t remember my name. Nor do you need to. But since you’re curious, I’ll tell you. I am Cheris.”

Nothing came to mind.

The name itself was common. A name with plenty of people sharing it.

But strangely, the face and the name didn’t align.

He’d be a commoner, so no surname.

Without changing my expression, I examined the one claiming to be Cheris.

It felt off. Something about him didn’t feel like Cheris. The face was familiar, and the name was an Imperial one, but the two didn’t match at all.

Was he lying to me? Or was my instinct wrong?

It felt like the former, but overconfidence leads to mistakes.

To be sure, I asked another question.

“Where did you live?”

“The westernmost edge of the Empire. I lived in Skybird’s Grave, where the lowly reside.”

That was a slum of slums.

“How old are you?”

“Born in Imperial Year 327.”

“What did you do in the Empire?”

“How could someone living in Skybird’s Grave have a proper occupation? I did whatever labor I could just to avoid starving to death.”

As he answered, the man’s eyes filled with swelling emotion.

The self-proclaimed Cheris lowered his head, then moved closer to me.

Click—

Jonathan’s sword slid slightly out of its scabbard.

I heard Richard stopping the senior.

“Wait.”

The man crawled forward slowly on his knees.

I didn’t move until he reached my feet, until his shadow covered the tops of my boots.

Because I was looking down at him, white hair spilled over one shoulder into view.

Without bothering to brush aside the white hair covering the corner of my vision, I watched my kin lower his head.

Watched him kiss my foot.

Ignoring the shocked seniors, he pressed his lips there, then smoothly withdrew and looked up at me again.

Light green eyes.

They curved gently.

“O sacred wing of the Empire.”

A title I hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“O most holy knight.”

That’s laying it on a bit thick.

In that moment, I realized who he was.

And why I had never been able to remember his name.

I looked at him and gave an order.

“Show me your soles.”

He was a death-row criminal.