Black Badger

Colton answered flatly.

“I never said the one following you around was a Titan, you know.”

Shashinsky saw it—

that flicker of realization passing through Hilde’s eyes.

And the emotion that always followed it.

“I have no intention whatsoever of breaking my promise to you. Our contract to protect your kin never had an expiration date. I haven’t forgotten it, and I have no intention of forgetting it now.”

Colton’s gloved fingers tapped his cane, tap tap.

The murderous pressure choking the room vanished, yet the atmosphere remained taut. The sound of his cane bouncing lightly against the floor shook the air.

“But I never said I would protect the humans around you.”

His voice was calm, as if laying out clauses in a contract.

“They’re not particularly important beings.”

Ah.

Shashinsky thought while watching Hilde’s golden eyes.

So that’s the face he makes when he’s terrified.

He once wondered if he would go his whole life without seeing it.

Hildebert did not fear his own death. If he stayed still, threats rarely came close enough to endanger him. He lived far from the kind of life that provoked fear of losing one’s life. And he had fortified the safety of his kin beneath the vast umbrella Colton Wiseman provided.

So Shashinsky had once wondered if this being would ever feel raw fear.

A terror that pressed down like a hand closing around his throat.

Whether Hildebert would ever experience a moment like that.

And yet here it was.

A dark fear he couldn’t hide shimmered stark across his face—

something he wouldn’t have shown even if his own life hung by a thread.

Affection was choking him again.

“Five days.”

The Titan broke the silence—

his fingers crushing the wooden armrest.

“I’ll bring results by then.”

“I’ll be cheering for you,” Colton replied shamelessly, then interlaced his fingers.

“But I have my own priorities.”

Hilde spoke in an eerie voice.

He was warning him:

Push me too far, and I’ll hide the humans I treasure—

and then point a sword at you.

If he could protect those, he did not care what happened to all the other humans.

Colton answered slowly.

“I imagine so.”

Hildebert glared at him.

Golden eyes full of hatred and hostility.

Even now, beneath that blinding color, fear still lingered. Shashinsky had to suppress the urge to click his tongue.

Even after everything, this man still loved humans.

“I’ll help you get your results.”

Naturally, the Elder was unmoved by the torrent of emotion aimed at him.

“I don’t wish to cause you unnecessary wounds.”

“You’re as shameless as ever.”

“It’s sincere—more sincere than I can express. I also sincerely intend to spare no support. It won’t be enough, but I’ll hand over something that may help you.”

“I don’t need money.”

“Which is exactly why it’s all the more valuable—it’s something money can’t buy.”

Colton flicked a finger.

“It’s not mine, though.”

Jaeyeon rolled their eyes and wandered off somewhere.

Shashinsky watched in puzzlement as Jaeyeon went down to the first floor—

and then returned, climbing to the second floor with something wrapped in cloth in his foxlike arms.

A sword, it seemed.

The cloth wasn’t undone, so whose sword it was remained unknown.

Hildebert straightened.

“What is that.”

The Titan’s voice was low.

Colton gave a slight glance toward the attendant beside him.

“Your skills have recovered enough. It’s time to return it.”

“Whose sword is it? Mine is still with me.”

“You really don’t remember.”

The muttered words were practically spoken to himself.

“It belonged to your subordinate who passed.”

Hilde froze.

“It was the one Kyle killed. You disappeared at the end with this very sword in hand, saying you would pierce his heart with the weapon stained with your subordinate’s blood.”

“Yvon.”

Hilde’s murmur drowned out Colton’s voice.

“Yvon’s greatsword.”

Jaeyeon handed the wrapped blade to Hilde.

Everyone fell silent, watching Hildebert unwrap the cloth.

There was no fear or hatred in his eyes now.

Only grief. Longing. Guilt.

Emotions so deep they had no bottom.

The cloth slid away, revealing the sword.

A scabbard once splendid, now faded.

The Titan bowed his head for a long moment.

Then, still not raising it, he muttered:

“How did you get this back?”

Colton replied.

“A soldier picked it up and brought it with him when he returned. I kept it.”

How much of that was true could not be known—

but Hilde did not question it.

Even when Colton added casually:

“The soldier never remembered where he found it.”

Hildebert shoved his chair back and rose to his feet.

Clatter!

“Shashinsky. Help him.”

Hildebert staggered, bracing one hand against the table, and Shashinsky rushed over.

He grabbed Hilde and checked the unstable breath trembling through him.

“I’ll escort you to the lounge.”

“I’m fine.”

The Titan forced the words out as he struggled to steady his ragged breathing.

Cold sweat dotted his forehead.

Colton pushed his chair back.

“Will you make it home safely like that? I’ll lend you a subordinate.”

“Don’t overdo it. Accept help, Prometheus. Pride won’t do you any good.”

“Bring him some water, Shashinsky.”

“Then perhaps...”

As the three Elders layered their comments one by one, Hilde pressed the back of his left hand against his mouth and rasped out:

“I’d like help from that person.”

Heads turned sharply.

Liu O’Neill, the one Hildebert had indicated, widened his eyes.

“Me?”

“You look... the least dangerous...”

A very polite way of saying he looked the least thoughtful.

All three Elders nodded in agreement with Hildebert’s assessment.

Jaeyeon bared their teeth in open hatred, but since this happened every time, no one reacted.

Ri Wei let out a deep sigh.

“An honor, I suppose.”

The fourth Elder gestured at Liu O’Neill.

“Escort him well.”

And so the meeting concluded with Liu O’Neill guiding the trembling Hilde out of the room.

***

Long ago.

When everything was simple.

When Kyle, Rei, and I were assigned to the western division.

We often traveled into remote regions no one else wanted to go. The three of us wore worn-out cloaks, wandering like adventurers chasing legendary relics.

If we found somewhere—anywhere—that could keep out the rain, we slept without complaint.

A collapsing inn.

An abandoned house.

Even a musty cave, squeezing ourselves inside.

I remember sleeping in cramped spaces, cloaks used as makeshift blankets.

Kyle’s and my hair constantly tangled.

There were many mornings when we woke and struggled to free white hair from black.

“Just cut it.”

“Then it’ll just grow again. Short hair is harder to manage.”

Rei and I argued like that often.

“You should tie it up. It keeps your nape cool.”

“It’s really tangled this time.”

Kyle’s black hair always snagged on his golden earring, too.

“This part might need to be cut out.”

Those were good times.

Even when anxiety and impatience chased us, the path we wanted to walk was bright ahead of us. I didn’t have much back then, but I was happy.

The only things tangled beyond hope were our hair.

I couldn’t let go of those pale fragments of memory.

The warmth of a body pressed to my back when we lay down.

The blue moonlight filtering through a half-collapsed roof and empty window frame.

The faint dawn light leaking between cracked old walls.

Kyle’s black, curly hair spread beneath the cloak...

That day.

Hair dark enough to swallow all light was soaked in blood.

Yvon’s sword.

And Kyle’s elegant, heavy sword.

I witnessed the whites of his eyes—once burned pitch-black—turning white again. Too late, of course. Everything had ended just before his body became ash with nothing left to absorb. There was nothing left to take in.

We would die at the same time.

‘Your name.’

Coughing in pain, I mumbled:

‘Your... name. Your surname.’

Kyle’s eyeball rolled toward me from where he lay collapsed across from me.

I remember meeting his gaze and laughing as I spat blood.

‘The surname... you abandoned... tell me... khh... tell me....’

I could never ask him in the Empire.

And on Earth, the thought never crossed my mind. At first because we were too busy. Later because we no longer trusted one another.

Only at the very end did it become unbearable.

Kyle stared at me with bloodshot eyes.

One hand gripping Yvon’s sword—the blade he had stabbed himself with.

The other hand holding the sword he’d driven through my heart.

‘Fine.’

His voice was hoarse and breaking.

‘It’s all... over now anyway.’

A strange name vibrated against my eardrums.

For the first time, a surname attached itself to the name Kyle.

In the cold that pressed in on us, I rolled that full name across my tongue again and again. As darkness sank over me, I spoke—at long last—my comrade’s complete name. A name I could only hear a hundred years later.

And then came the suffocating sense of loss.

Rei’s presence vanished.

Unbearable grief was quickly buried beneath the hope that I would soon reunite with him. I closed my eyes and waited for the end. I was certain that was the final page of my life.

The problem was... it wasn’t.

How did I... pop out of the portal?

I feel like I’m supposed to remember something more.

Something important.

But in the end, I couldn’t remember it.

Wandering through a hazy white fog, I felt moisture on my cheek as I woke.

Sad that there was no longer any hair I needed to untangle.

***

“Plum wine.”

I handed the bottle to Kairos, who crossed his arms and smiled.

“I’m opening it tonight. I want to settle this once and for all.”

“Did you sleep well yesterday?”

“Where are we having lunch again?”

I pretended not to hear the steward and asked back.

“You said with Ami, right?”

“We can leave in thirty minutes. I’ll drive.”

“When’s the welcome dinner for the 62nd and 63rd intakes?”

“Next Friday.”

“Ah. Good.”

I was 62nd.

For now, anyway.

63rd was Kairos’s intake. The six of us were planning to have dinner together next week. I was technically a senior intake, and the numbers worked out, and we were deeply connected in many ways, so the plan had come together naturally.

Before that, I needed to settle things with Yoow.

I had until Wednesday to produce something.

Suppressing the anger boiling back up, I let out a long breath. The moment I arrived at the cabin yesterday—with Liu O’Neill’s help—I vomited everything out once. After that, I contacted my seniors.

My seniors and peers sounded confused when they picked up.

[Where are you~? You’re home, right, since you got discharged... why...? Is there another game thing to do~? ...No? Just checking on me? Why all of a sudden? Didn’t you say you caught the guy who branded you already?]

[Hilde. How did the meeting go? ...What? Of course I’m fine. Sounds like you heard something weird over there. Alright, I’ll check on Jonathan for you. Yeah. He’ll be fine, so don’t over-worry.]

[Hilde! Hi! ...Me? I just finished an escape room! Yup. Why? Did something happen? Are you okay?]

[Oh, hey. I was just about to call you. My little brother’s bringing alcohol to the welcome dinner.... Huh? Hey! Don’t worry. Nothing’s been happening lately!]

[I’m totally fine. You don’t need to worry that much, Hilde. How was discharge? I’m stepping out soon. See you at the welcome dinner.]

[Hilde. Hi. ...Yeah. Nothing’s wrong. Personnel Director told me to rest for a while, so I’m resting. Planning to hole up and game. Yeah. We’ll pick a day later.]

[Hilde! Perfect timing! I finally tracked down the owner of Lexic Noodles!]

After Ricardo, Ska, Ami, Hesh, Tom, Shu, I called Bobby—

and my heart leapt in my chest.

Here? Like this?

I was stunned into silence, unable to respond, when Bobby suddenly shouted in excitement:

[I’ll tell you next time! I haven’t actually reached him yet! But if Dad calls, he’ll answer eventually~. I’ll message you when he does!]

Then she hung up just like that.

I stared blankly at the screen for a long moment before coming back to myself.

And then I began calling the seniors again.

Kai. Sophia. Leeho. Asil. Personnel Director. The scientists still in the hospital.

Last were Yehyeon and Yun.

I reported the entire contents of the Elders’ meeting to Yehyeon.

He listened quietly, then let out a sigh.

[Good work. Don’t worry too much. If you still have ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ no progress by tomorrow, call the Personnel Director the next day.]

He also asked if I’d had another episode and told me to rest.

[I have a superior to report to as well, you know.]

Yun, on the other hand, said a single sentence and hung up:

[Check your messages.]

Baffled, I opened the message window and found multiple image files.

Seal designs.

From a website offering custom engraving services.

[Yun: Which one should I stamp on you?]

[Me: ...Where exactly are you planning to stamp it?]

[Yun: Don’t pretend you don’t know.]

[Me: I choose this?]

[Yun: Yup]

Why does he sound so excited.

He’s genuinely a terrifying human being. I grumbled and politely declined the offer. Then went to sleep. I woke at my usual time, trained behind the cabin, and then headed to Kairos’s house.

To eat lunch with Ami.

“Anyway. Take this and keep it until dinner.”

When I said it again, Kairos smiled lightly and took the plum wine.

He placed the bottle in his refrigerator, then returned to the entrance.

He stopped me when I suggested leaving thirty minutes early.

I narrowed my eyes.

“What is it?”

“You know I’m observant.”

“Very.”

“Would you tell me what happened? It feels like you remembered something unpleasant—or went through something.”

“What about me?”

I hadn’t done anything in particular.

Last night, I’d turned on the shower and thrown up; after calming down, I washed, ventilated the room, and left. So Igor and Deltei hadn’t noticed anything.

And nothing from the Elders’ meeting could have leaked.

This morning I trained normally behind the cabin. I had no idea why he was looking at me like that.

The steward exhaled softly.

He didn’t let go of my arm.

Instead, he stepped slightly closer and said calmly:

“You’ve been avoiding mirrors obsessively since earlier.”