“You arrived earlier than I expected. I wanted to finish before you got here.”

I wasn’t lying. My original plan was to have everything ready before they arrived.

I had successfully infiltrated by breaking through the outer wall. Using mind reading, I confirmed that no one was inside, so I moved without hesitation. After slipping into the empty control room, however, I encountered a major problem.

I didn’t understand a thing.

Without anyone’s thoughts to read, I couldn’t make sense of the countless mechanical devices in front of me. Damn this mind-reading ability! I can read human minds, so why can’t I read machines?

I considered using Aji and Navi to destroy everything indiscriminately, but that was a last resort. Reluctantly, I waited for Carrafald to arrive. Once he was here, I could read his thoughts and figure out which device was the annihilation mechanism.

And then Carrafald arrived.

“Couldn’t stand it, huh? So, why’d you come back?”

“I was worried you might not reach a conclusion about what to do with the refinery. Shay, you still haven’t decided, have you?”

The Regressor flinched at being called out so directly, and I clicked my tongue.

Embarrassing, really. Sure, Carrafald was manipulating things behind the scenes, but how could she fall for it so easily? And she calls herself a regressor.

“…Well, yeah. But I’m almost there. Just give me a bit more time and I’ll figure it out.”

“It’s fine. That’s why I’m here.”

With my hands behind my back, I walked slowly across the control room. While everyone hesitated to approach, feeling uneasy about the atmosphere, I quickly read Carrafald’s thoughts.

‘This is bad. The stage is out of my control. The flow has shifted.’

Carrafald’s instinctive reaction to the unfamiliar situation was to fade into the background and go along with the flow. He didn’t force himself into the spotlight because we’d get suspicious—but that wasn’t the only reason.

He was a born actor and director. A well-crafted stage sometimes breaks free from its creator’s grasp. And as a natural performer, Carrafald felt a primal aversion to interfering with a play that was trying to transcend its script.

Both Jiekhrund and the Sixth Corps commanders… They’re all unhinged. How did the Military State gather such people?

Anyway, I had bought some time. As long as the flow continued and my lines were meaningful, Carrafald would keep watching.

Good. I’ll play along.

I continued my slow pace, resting my hand lightly on a tall steel rod, and spoke.

“Shay possesses incredible power. She doesn’t need to rely on the annihilation device to kill everyone here. If she wanted to, she could bury this entire building underground with her twin blades, Cheonaeng and Jijan.”

“I’m not doing that!”

“Yes, I know. That’s precisely why you’re so hesitant to kill them. Whether you use the device or your own strength, it’s all up to your will. And once you cross that line, you’ll find it much easier to cross it again in the future.”

Historia flinched at my words. While she didn’t know about the Regressor’s time-traveling abilities, she did understand that Shay held the power to cause catastrophic destruction. What if Shay crossed the line and started using her strength recklessly? Without considering the consequences?

It would be a massacre that would leave a mark in history.

“Carrying such power is uncomfortable, but once it’s gone, you’ll never get it back. To be honest, I think what you have is incredibly valuable, Shay.”

Meanwhile, this steel rod… Is this not the annihilation device? I grabbed it, but Carrafald isn’t reacting at all.

That persona is a bit tricky to read. It’s like reading a book filled with sneaky narrative tricks.

Anyway, since this doesn’t seem to be the annihilation device, I kept making my empty speeches as I moved toward the lever with the red handle.

“But Shay, Lia is in a different position. She’s already crossed the line. She was raised by the Military State, gained power and authority there, and now she’s chosen to abandon everything to join us.”

I casually placed my hand on the red handle and continued speaking.

“Lia is one of the Sixth Corps commanders. She honed her talents desperately to reach that position. But she didn’t become a commander out of loyalty to the Military State.”

“Huey, stop…”

Oh no, don’t interrupt. If my lines get cut off, Carrafald might revert to Jiekhrund. So I raised my voice to drown out Historia’s words.

“She had friends—wayward companions who once fought alongside her. They were abandoned by the Military State, and some of them joined the Resistance. Others, like me, vanished without a trace. The Military State has no place for people like us. So Lia became a commander, because commanders can appoint their own subordinates.”

“You…”

“But her friends, being as reckless as they are, forced her to abandon that hard-earned position and join our side. She’s already crossed every line. That’s why she has to succeed in every mission—this is the last thing she can do.”

The Regressor, now realizing the truth, gave Lia a new look of understanding.

“Ah… That’s why you acted the way you did.”

‘So, even if we lose the war, or if the Resistance succeeds in establishing a republic, she’ll have a place. It turns out securing her position was the point all along. Good. I can use this in the next round.’

“Shut up! And don’t you dare screw this up with your half-hearted resolve. If things go wrong, I’m taking Huey and Shiati and getting out of here at full speed!”

Sorry for exposing your motives, Lia. But I had to keep talking so Carrafald wouldn’t catch on.

Still, this red lever doesn’t seem to be it either. So what is the annihilation device? Could it be this? Let me take another step to the side…

‘…This flow is dangerous. This stage, these lines. And now, what he’s standing on—that’s what he’s after!’

Bingo. So this was it.

I smiled and stomped my foot hard. A square panel opened, and a massive gear slowly rose from within, its size comparable to the wheel of a ship’s helm.

Of course, something as deadly as an annihilation device wouldn’t be placed where someone could accidentally trigger it.

“In the end, neither Shay nor Lia are wrong. Neither of you have done anything so terrible that you should feel this burden of responsibility. But how could you not feel responsible? No matter how much they deserve it, there are still so many lives at stake here.”

“You’re right. We don’t need to be arguing.”

‘Tch. I’m relying on him again. I don’t know why, but things are easier when he’s around. Same with the Gunslinger’s case, and Tyrkanjaka’s as well. Guess I’ll have to keep him close next time, too.’

The Regressor seemed to think I was here to mediate their argument. Sorry, but you’re only half right.

I wasn’t here to stop your fight.

“But doesn’t it seem a bit unfair? The Military State built this device to kill all the people in the refinery. So why should we be the ones agonizing over it?”

With those words, I placed both hands on the giant gear’s teeth. It felt as if I was gripping part of an enormous machine.

The gear, the mechanism, and the words I had spoken.

The Regressor realized what I was about to do and shouted in alarm.

“Wait! You’re not really—!”

“A dilemma, huh? They create an extreme situation and force us to make the hard decision. What arrogance! The Military State created this environment, but when we face it, it’s suddenly a moral dilemma? Ridiculous! Is the Military State not a human nation? And even if it is, who cares!”

My last words were a furious cry. Using every ounce of strength, I turned the gear. The device, which had never been activated since its creation, slowly began to move.

The annihilation device—the mechanism designed to kill every laborer in this refinery.

“If the Military State wants to decide whether to save the criminals for war or execute them for justice—let them make that choice!”

Somewhere within the refinery.

A laborer, shackled to a hook, heard a loud clanking sound. He weakly lifted his head.

Having just finished his task, he was utterly exhausted. The chain that moved along the rails was supposed to guide him to the break room, where he could enjoy a brief rest until his magical energy recovered.

But for some reason, the chain was pulling him to a different, unfamiliar place.

At first, he couldn’t understand what was happening. After confirming over and over again that the rails were indeed moving in a different direction, he finally realized something was wrong.

This was different from the usual routine.

For most people, this sense of unfamiliarity would be ominous. But for him, it was a ray of hope.

When you’re standing at the top of a mountain, no matter which way you walk, it’s all downhill from there.

Likewise, life in the Alchemic Steel Refinery was the worst in the world. So, if he deviated from the routine, that could only mean things would improve, right?

Was there some sort of malfunction? Had those strangers who entered earlier accidentally tampered with something? Would the overseers soon rush in and drag him back to his original station?

Afraid that this fleeting peace would be taken from him, the laborer suppressed his excitement and followed the chain’s lead, pretending nothing was wrong.

But he had no idea.

The place the chain was taking him…

Was the furnace where alchemic steel was melted—the purgatory where magical flames turned iron into liquid.

Magic required living humans as its fuel.

In other words, if you used a living human, you could extract magical power.

The iron made from a human's body would surely ring out with a more beautiful sound than any ordinary metal.