"Mr. Bergen, can you hear me?"
"…"
"Would you like some cold water?"
Seeing the figure of his daughter emerging from the smoke, Bergen turned pale and sat silently for a while, causing Whitney to approach him with a worried look.
"Slapping someone who's unconscious can be surprisingly effective."
"No, that's a bit…"
Although Whitney suggested a typical abrupt solution, fortunately, it was not taken seriously.
"Lilly…"
It was then that Bergen slowly turned his head towards Whitney and began to speak in a choked voice.
"Just show me Lilly once more…"
"Well, I could ask the saintess, but…"
"…What?"
Whitney, holding onto Runiel's arm just in case, murmured quietly, and the saintess next to him glanced at him as if asking what he meant.
"Would it even matter?"
Ignoring him, Whitney looked down and pinpointed the issue seriously.
"No matter how many times you revisit that scene, the fact that your daughter is captured remains unchanged."
"..."
"Wouldn't it only cause you more pain?"
Miraculously regaining his senses, Bergen asked in a trembling voice.
"…Do you know the identity of those who have my daughter?"
"I thought you might have realized it already."
Whitney reached out his hand to ask, but Bergen remained silent, demanding an answer.
"Didn't you see the mark of the Black mages engraved on your daughter?"
"Black mages…"
"Yes, they are the true culprits behind the accident that took your life."
When Whitney confirmed it, Bergen's gaze intensified.
"Mr. Bergen, I need your help to deal with those people."
"Along with the saintess, everyone here is united for the same purpose."
Runiel and Hestia, standing next to Whitney, looked at each other and nodded belatedly, but Bergen's gaze remained fixed on Whitney.
"You are the last piece of the puzzle against the Black mage organization."
It was then that he realized the boy in front of him was not an enemy, but an ally extending a hand.
"What should I do?"
"What I am asking you to do is simple."
However, Bergen, yet to grasp his hand, asked again in a low voice, and Whitney began to explain with his characteristic eye smile.
"Utilize your talents that once roamed the world to gather the information I need."
"…But, anyone could do that."
"Mr. Bergen, hiring you alone is more valuable than bribing every information guild in the empire."
"Why?"
"Because it's not easy to find a spy who can erase their presence to almost zero."
After hearing about his abilities, Bergen nodded unknowingly, still clinging to a thread of doubt.
"Really… Is that all I need to do?"
"Well, yes. But there is one more thing I need to ask of you."
At that moment, Whitney, with his eyes narrowed even further, whispered low enough for only Bergen to hear.
"…You will have to get your hands dirty with things I cannot openly interfere with."
"…"
"Since I have become the empire's hero, whether I like it or not. Ha ha.."
After making a chilling remark that clearly meant he needed him to act on his behalf, Bergen closed his eyes and thought for a moment before asking his final question.
"Just one question…"
"Yes?"
"What's your reason for dealing with the Black mages?"
Crouching down, Whitney rested his chin on his hands and thought for a while.
"It's a long explanation… but to put it simply."
After some time, Whitney, frowning slightly, spoke again, and this time it exactly matched Bergen's expectations.
"When they act up, it disrupts the plans I am making."
"…"
"I just want peace, which they make it extremely inconvenient for me."
Seeing the sinister expression that appeared on his face, unlike any he had worn before, Bergen internally confirmed that his 'plans' were certainly not for world peace.
"That's why I fully intend to support you. You won't have to worry about funding at least."
"…"
"Ah, of course, if you agree to my proposal."
However, Whitney's laughter-filled voice continued to echo in his ears, even when he closed his eyes.
"Will you take my hand, Bergen?"
And the fading voice of his daughter, still vivid with tear streaks, lingered in his mind.
"…At this point, no one would be foolish enough to miss such an opportunity."
"Ahaha… Very well."
Thus, in truth, Bergen had no choice but to agree.
"I look forward to working with you, Mr. Bergen."
…
"By the way, contact and mission details will be handled by Butler Alfred outside, who will take care of it until his retirement. Please say goodbye to him."
Thus, Bergen, having taken Whitney's hand, staggered out of the office following his guidance.
'What does it matter what happens to the world…'
After a deep sigh, Bergen scoffed as he turned to the waiting butler, as Whitney had instructed, but…
'If I can just get Lilly back…?'
"It's been a while."
"...!"
The moment he saw the face of the old butler who reached out for a handshake, he had no choice but to rethink his situation.
"No need for pleasantries. We're not exactly in a position to ask about each other's wellbeing."
In Bergen's life, which had seen dealings with many countries and organizations, the figure now smiling coldly at him was someone who had once pushed him into his greatest crisis.
"So, how was our young master? Quite a good person, isn't he?"
"Why are you here…?"
"Ha. I didn't want to say this myself."
As he unwittingly took a step back, the old man now called Alfred sighed and responded.
"…In our mansion, there's a saying that curiosity killed the cat."
With that, Bergen gave up any further rational reasoning and began to conform to the reality before him.
"So cut the chatter and follow me. The young master has a mission to explain to you."
'At this rate, I might even meet a royal official.'
Aside from still judging Whitney by his own standards, his attitude was certainly excellent for becoming his lieutenant.
°°°°°°°°
As time passed, the day after Bergen took Whitney's hand, he found himself at one of the dingiest inns in the underworld—a nameless establishment.
-Creak…
A tired-looking woman, who was cleaning the counter, lifted her head at the sound of the door opening and murmured with a slightly surprised expression, "What now?"
"Am I seeing things?"
A few days ago, she had kicked out a man named Bergen, who was now walking towards the counter, looking unusually neat.
"Why are you here? Did you come to borrow a cigarette again?"
She rubbed her eyes repeatedly, squinting as she began to interrogate him.
"No, seeing how painstakingly neat you've become… perhaps you're here to make a will? I really hate that kind of thing."
But Bergen, without responding to her comment, approached the counter and pulled a leather pouch from his coat.
"…This is for the overdue room rent."
"Eh?"
"I've stuffed it as much as I could; it shouldn't be short."
"Looks like you're really putting your affairs in order."
The woman looked at it, muttering to herself in surprise, then Bergen, with a chuckle and a subdued voice, asked,
"Do I really look like that to you?"
"I know, it was a joke. Your eyes didn't look like those of a man resolved to die when you walked in."
Finally, she cracked a smile as well, taking the leather pouch and then asked with a serious expression,
"Did you find some clue?"
"…Black mages."
Bergen sighed quietly, his expression darkening as he replied,
"Those bastards have kidnapped my daughter and are using her for experiments."
"Oh, no."
"Apparently, they're gathering talented individuals to resurrect some demon lord or something. That's none of my business."
Though his tone was calm, his voice carried an unmistakable edge of lethal intent.
"The important thing is, I've finally found the culprits who killed my wife and kidnapped my daughter."
"So…"
"I'll make them pay, in my own way."
As Bergen finished speaking, he pulled out a lighter he had acquired a few days ago and lit a cigarette, while the woman at the counter listened quietly and then said with a cynical smile,
"…Basically, it's almost like a suicide mission."
"Ha, maybe."
He placed the ashtray she handed him on the table and gazed out the window, the smoke curling up.
"But, it's worth a try."
"Why, did someone agree to help you?"
"…Surprisingly. I've met someone with similar intentions."
He shivered slightly as if remembering someone in the dim moonlight coming through the window and continued in a low voice,
"Actually, it was they who informed me of my daughter's whereabouts."
"There's someone with better information than you?"
"That's what I said. I hardly believe it myself…"
He watched the smoke from his cigarette drift upward, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions.
"…The evidence was too clear."
As he finished speaking, the silence set in, and the woman sitting at the counter quietly stood up.
"So, are you officially coming back?"
"Yeah. Looks like I'll be indebted again."
"Ha, it's been a while."
As she pulled a lever under the counter table, suddenly the sound of gears turning was heard.
"There are hardly any people left who know the true identity of this place, I thought I'd never have to reveal it again."
From various hidden drawers beneath the table, all sorts of sophisticated espionage equipment gleamed in the moonlight.
"Are you sure? You know my equipment isn't cheap."
"…Can't help it. I was humiliated at that guy's mansion for bringing cheap equipment."
"Phew. You? Has your skill rusted?"
With that, the woman, shedding her guise as an innkeeper and revealing her true colors as one of the underworld's finest master craftsmen, laughed as she teased Bergen.
"It was a close call…"
But Bergen started speaking without a trace of laughter about a recent incident.
"Some kid accurately predicted the time I'd infiltrate, and the royal guard caught on to my movements and nabbed me…"
"You managed to escape from the palace and you got caught like that?"
"Don't even mention it. And the guy who hired me… never mind, better not talk about it."
"Why stop mid-sentence?"
Interrupted by a pushy comment, Bergen crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and continued,
"…He had an old underworld boss working under him."
"Wow."
"He's a terrifying man. The whole time I was facing him, I felt like a pawn on a giant chessboard."
"Should you be working with someone like that?"
The woman asked worriedly as she listened to him, but Bergen just silently rummaged through the equipment in the drawer.
"If I didn't have someone of his caliber backing me, I'd be in trouble."
He then found a particularly worn black cloak and mask, and muttered with a cold smile,
"And when have I ever considered safety in my line of work?"
"So, how much of the equipment will you be buying?"
"All of it. Cash payment," he said, pulling out a second leather pouch from his coat.
"It feels strange having a stable job with a regular income for the first time."
It was a grand revival for a thief who had once had bounties on his head from wealthy people around the world.
*****
"…Young master, we've received a report from Bergen."
"Already?"
Thanks to the inexplicable manifestation of Saintess Hestia's powers, I successfully recruited Bergen, completing the dream team I had envisioned from the start.
Although I had spent more than half of my savings to fund Bergen's activities, it seemed a worthwhile investment given the quality of information we were now receiving.
"Just now, Alfred gave me his first report encrypted, detailing the personal information of candidates participating in a talent scouting competition."
"Parsha, could you take a look at this with me?"
I tried to discuss this valuable information with Parsha, who lately had always been right by my side, but,
"...Parsha?"
"...Ha."
She seemed unusually distracted, snapping back to reality only when I nudged her shoulder.
"…Ah, the list of participants for the selection competition!"
"Are you okay, Parsha?"
"I'll analyze it right now!"
Parsha, after a moment of being frozen, returned to her usual lively self and immediately dove into examining the list.
"Hmm-hmm. Sir, that's not all," I continued to watch her complexion, concerned she might be overexerting herself, but was interrupted by Alfred clearing his throat,
"There's more you need to see."
I took the second report Bergen had sent from Alfred,
"In addition to the existing participants, the academy is recruiting a replacement for a disqualified candidate due to cheating. I've secured and attached a list of applicants."
"…Ah."
I was momentarily proud of his competence, but my expression soon turned solemn,
"But, is this also part of your plan?"
The name at the top of the list Bergen had marked was all too familiar to me.
"Apparently, the young lady will also be participating in the selection."
"…Cecil."
It was impossible for there to be another person with not only the same first name but also the same surname. No doubt, it was my beloved younger sister's name.