A lavish mansion.

The interior was so luxurious that no one could hold back their awe.

Everyone assumed that the owner led a life just as dazzling as the mansion itself.

But…

“Hah…”

The reality was a bit different.

In front of him sat a fine cup of premium black tea, crafted by a master artisan—but all Kishua could do was sigh.

The reason was painfully simple.

The Black Fangs had not reached out to him.

‘Why? Where did it all go wrong?’

The Black Fangs’ relief activities in the slums.

Kishua had thought it was an invitation. A sign that they wanted to work together, urging him to support their relief efforts.

Thus, he participated with fervor, carefully navigating to avoid drawing the Empire’s attention, successfully saving many lives in the process.

I could confidently say no one achieved results like Kishua did.

But despite all that…

The Black Fangs never called for him.

‘…Was I just lost in empty delusions?’

Perhaps the Black Fangs didn’t have any goals of finding a partner or sending invitations after all. Maybe they were simply trying to help people out of pure goodwill.

Just like an artist who paints without thinking, only for critics to impose bizarre meanings onto their work.

He might have misinterpreted their intentions completely.

Looking back, it did seem odd.

The terror incident in the Black Market, the relief acts in the slums, the activities near the Holy Church…

They consistently produced outcomes that defied common sense but felt strangely unplanned.

Maybe the Black Fangs were unlike any group people imagined. Perhaps they were merely lucky…

‘No, this is all just my ugly self-justification.’

Kishua let out a deep sigh and wiped that ridiculous train of thought from his mind.

To think that the Black Fangs are an impulsive, carefree group? There’s a limit to nonsense.

The Empire is undoubtedly the center of the world, after all.

It’s not that Kishua felt an overflow of patriotism, but this was an undeniable fact.

No country is as powerful as the Empire.

No nation has developed quite like it.

It wouldn’t be stretching the truth to say that nearly everything revolves around the Empire.

Yet, the Black Fangs stand against such a nation. They weren’t just opposing them; they were gaining the upper hand.

Just because Kishua couldn’t understand the intentions behind such an organization doesn’t mean the Black Fangs are thoughtless.

Just as an ordinary person can’t grasp the thoughts of a genius.

It would be more reasonable to consider that Kishua simply couldn’t comprehend the grand designs of the leader of the Black Fangs, who had already surpassed the realm of humanity.

So, to say it again…

“It’s a rejection for me, then.”

Kishua murmured in a lonely voice.

The only possibility he could envision was that.

Having poured half his fortune into this, even now, working tirelessly behind the scenes to spread the faith of the Black Fangs while sacrificing sleep—he couldn’t have been unaware of that.

If it came to light that he assisted the Black Fangs, he’d face oppression from the Empire. Naturally, he kept his identity hidden while proceeding with his work.

But surely the Black Fangs, with their superior intelligence-gathering capabilities, had grasped all his information long ago.

In the eyes of the Black Fangs’ leader, Kishua was likely deconstructed and analyzed completely.

But he turned out to be a failure.

In the eyes of the Black Fangs’ leader, Kishua was deemed unworthy to be a companion.

He tried to soothe himself with some black tea, but as always, it didn’t settle his heart.

Bitter, it was just too bitter.

Approaching his 50s, he understood the necessity of maintaining his dignity as the head of the Arhangel family, but how cruel time could be!

Kishua desperately suppressed the tears that threatened to spill.

*

The work progressed smoothly.

Even though dwarves can’t complete everything overnight, he felt a little worried.

However, they were surprisingly skilled.

To deceive prying eyes, they made some suitable models to restore the mansion’s exterior before diving back into detailed work.

I had a conscience too, after all.

I was squeezing out memories of the settings and blueprints I’d seen in art books to help the dwarves with their work.

While I was piecing together the rough skeleton of the blueprint, I noticed none other than Miss Rubia.

She looked a little…

No, very much exhausted.

Well, it wasn’t strange.

It had come to light that Miss Rubia was the mastermind behind the potion business.

While most of the people involved in the potion business had been dealt with, many were now nervous about the emergence of a mogul who monopolized a whole industry.

Naturally, various checks and balances were being imposed.

“…Don’t worry, Miss Rubia. Just tell me the names of those bothering you, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Of course, I’d mobilize all my previous game knowledge.

I’d use every means possible to deal with anyone making things difficult for her.

With that thought in mind, she suddenly hiccuped.

Miss Rubia looked terrifyingly shocked and refused my offer.

What she instead presented was,

“I-I’m really fine! Sure, I’ve been busy lately, but I’ve prepared some countermeasures…”

A file containing information on certain individuals.

“If I have just one person to assist me with my tasks, I think I could handle it somehow. What do you think?”

She asked like that.

It was her request, so I wanted to agree, but…

I couldn’t help but feel skeptical about this.

This wasn’t merely a matter of hiring someone casually.

The significance of her responsibilities was immense.

A single misstep could lead us all to destruction.

Not only did she need someone capable but also someone reliable enough not to betray us. And such a person wouldn’t just drop out of the sky.

I read through the file she handed me without expecting much. And…

“…Huh?”

A disbelieving groan escaped my lips. It was inevitable.

[Kishua Arhangel.]

That name.

It was too familiar.

Even the face in this photo matched everything in my memory.

…The core figure of the Revolutionary Route against the Empire. A noble character serving as a backing for the protagonist. The former hero of the previous work now stood before me. Originally meant to meet his demise in all routes, he must have survived when the original story went awry.

A rush of excitement hit me at the sudden appearance, but I quickly quelled it.

Certainly, Kishua was a capable individual. In truth, unless you could recruit that character, you wouldn’t even get on the Revolutionary Path against the Empire.

However, it wouldn’t be easy to recruit someone like him.

He had an obstinate personality, a high self-esteem, and a stubbornness to follow only those he acknowledged—virtually a tougher target than any heroine out there.

So, I should temper my expectations.

I should… but…

[Formerly suspected to be a supporter of the relief center. High potential for collaboration.]

Such a line landed in my eyes.

He wasn’t a bad person, but he wasn’t just some overly nice philanthropist either—what had caused this change of heart?

I didn’t know, but that wasn’t important right now.

With an urgent voice, I stated, “Let’s bring this person in immediately.”

*

Rumors were spreading among the servants of the Arhangel family.

They whispered about something being off with the head of the household.

The word on the street was that perhaps he had gone senile.

However, despite those whispers, Sebastian, the butler of the Arhangel family, remained unfazed.

Yes, the family head had been looking a bit haggard lately, but the tasks at hand remained unchanged.

“…”

A sealed letter, stamped with luxurious sealing wax, arrived with an unknown sender.

As soon as the letter was relayed, Kishua glanced at him. The look in his eyes clearly indicated one thing:

Get out of my sight.

He politely took his leave.

‘Rumors are just that—rumors.’

The essence of the head had not changed.

Despite having worked in the mansion for a long time, he never let his guard down.

Thorough and calculating,

His relentless striving sometimes resulted in his gaunt appearance, but there was no trace of senility about him.

Others gossip about him behaving strangely while not understanding that it was proof of his competencies.

He made sure that his actions didn’t leak out, performing things so covertly that even the servants were unaware.

So there was no need for worry.

With that thought in mind, Sebastian attempted to refocus on his tasks.

“Okay, sure!!”

Until that bizarre shout rang through.

The voice came from the direction of the recently closed door. In other words, the head’s study.

But… why would the head shout such a vulgar exclamation?

He couldn’t grasp the situation at all.

He knew he shouldn’t, but his hand moved instinctively.

He discreetly opened the study door just a crack.

And….

“I knew you’d come! Who do you think I am? I won’t ever back down!”

He shut it.

There was no choice but to shut it.

Making eye contact with the silver-haired middle-aged man throwing punches in mid-air while dancing a terrible jig would complicate matters enormously.

Sebastian’s mind blanked as he processed the current situation.

So, rumors had it…

‘Maybe it’s time for a career change.’

It seemed the head had truly lost his marbles.