The next day.
I continued my work as a lifeguard. Quitting halfway would only raise more suspicions.
Personally, I preferred this to pretending to enjoy myself at the beach. Even if I were allowed to play, with my current physical condition, I’d just spend the whole day sleeping in bed.
Whether Elodie or Aten would just watch me do that, I wasn’t sure.
‘Maybe I’m unknowingly becoming like Frondier?’
It was a chilling thought.
Anyway, the lifeguard duty surprisingly didn’t have much to do. Especially in situations like now, with Constel students playing around.
Since Constel students are already trained for emergency situations, they can handle things themselves without me needing to do anything.
That’s why the annoying part of my job had nothing to do with the main duties of a lifeguard.
“When do you get off work?”
Or hands me their Sage phone saying,
“You have a phone, right? Write down your number.”
Or tries to build a rapport by saying,
“Oh, you’re the guy from WizardView! I knew you looked familiar.”
Of course, I politely decline all of them, but even that requires a certain amount of mental energy, which is exhausting.
Frondier, once leaves Constel, is quite popular. I felt it when I visited Elodie’s mansion, and I’m really feeling it now.
It’s hard to decide whether I should be happy or not since it’s not really my face or body.
“Are you working hard?”
Someone approached me then. It was Sybil.
Seeing that I had arrived in Cropolis, Sybil seemed relieved and had gone back to her accommodation to change into a slightly daring bikini, which suited her well.
“There’s nothing much to work hard on.”
“Oh, acting all bothered again!”
“…….”
As if all my previous complaints were just an act, Sybil said.
Of course, there was some truth to that, but this time, I was genuinely bothered.
“Anyway, it’s nice to see your face intact.”
“Intact face?”
“Ever since you made a rash move in Tyburn, I’ve decided to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t do anything strange, no matter what happens.”
That’s what Sybil said, but unfortunately, I’ve already made a rash move and ended up here.
Swallowing my slight feeling of guilt, I asked, “How are you going to keep an eye on me?”
“Just prevent you from getting into trouble. Keep you from getting hurt.”
Sybil smiled at me mischievously. At least, it seemed sincere to me.
“…”
However, I was still pondering how to treat Sybil.
Even if Sybil’s smile towards me is sincere without any falsehood. Even if the kindness and goodwill that Sybil, who is adept at fooling men, shows me are real.
…Sybil is a villain.
In the game, Sybil has never once ceased to be a villain.
She was simply a huge obstacle in the game, a hindrance, a swamp that tripped up players.
Of course, the present Sybil is the most different from the one I’ve known. Perhaps my character itself played a big part in changing the course of the game.
At truly crucial moments, when hardship came, Sybil would abandon everything and run away.
The tears of betrayal felt by players who had placed their hopes in Sybil would fill a city.
But now, I have the opposite question.
In times of adversity and hardship, even if Sybil doesn’t run away.
Could I entrust my back to Sybil at that moment?
Even if Sybil, who betrayed players at every moment of the game, doesn’t betray them this time, can I believe in that one time?
“Don’t worry.”
I faintly smiled.
The smile that Sybil gave me was truly beautiful, just like her.
As Sybil’s beauty sparkled, I couldn’t help but think of the thorns of a rose.
* * *
Morion.
A facility that brings both fear and relief to the citizens, as it is known as the continent’s top prison.
A disturbance broke out within.
The guards were on edge in front of a certain solitary cell.
The person inside was supposed to remain in solitary confinement until their sentence was up. Given it was a life sentence, it essentially meant rotting away in there until death.
This was an exceptionally rare occurrence even within the teeming criminal population of Morion. It signified the problematic nature of the individual inside.
Indeed, a problematic figure, who managed to cause trouble even while locked away.
“…No doubt about it.”
One of the guards re-examined the display he was holding.
“The magical device has finished its measurement. His life signs have ceased.”
Upon hearing this, another guard opened the small window of the cell and peered inside.
The man in the cell was sitting. It was the familiar, arrogantly casual posture he always assumed. Head bowed, yet appearing as if he could stand up at any moment and start an argument.
“…You’re saying he’s dead?”
The guard found it hard to believe.
Many die in solitary. Once locked away, most of their life is spent in darkness, with not a single ray of light entering.
Perfect soundproofing meant no noise from outside; silence. Apart from the brief moments when food was provided, it was a space devoid of light and sound. Enough to drive anyone insane.
Moreover, the man inside had essentially rented out a solitary cell for life, which was more than enough to lead to death.
“…So, Renzo died like this?”
Yes. The man inside was not just any common criminal.
Renzo, the ‘Glutton of Chaos’, considered by the world to be a villain on par with the continent’s ‘Zodiac.’
His suicide within the cell was hard to believe.
“…So, we have to open the door.”
“…”
“…”
If Renzo truly was dead, then what was inside was simply a corpse. The cell needed to be emptied, and the body disposed of.
However, none of the guards stepped forward to do it.