By Zephyria 
Shorendo checked the contents of the envelope he had received and pulled out a statement and several photographs. The statement contained the handwriting of various members of the ‘Servan’ family. These were detailed accounts written by the bereaved family members regarding the scene they discovered immediately after the company commander’s death.
“The previous investigation focused on determining the cause of suicide based solely on the oral testimonies of the wife—the first witness at the time the death report was filed—and the bereaved family, as well as the marks left on the body when it was handed over. However, upon meeting the family today and conveying the possibility of homicide regarding Company Commander Servan, we were able to obtain additional statements along with a signed document agreeing to cooperate.”
Shorendo held up five or six pages filled with writing before the group. Loren, the 2nd Battalion Commander, leaned forward from his reclined position.
“Additional statements? Does that mean there are clues to the case that weren’t shared with us?”
“Hmm… rather than that, it seems they have narrowed down their own suspects based on Marcus Servan’s repetitive behaviors, unstable psychological state, or relationships with those around him prior to the incident.”
“The autopsy results were delivered today; you’re saying they wrote these statements in such a short time?”
Andreas, who had quickly become immersed in the meeting, asked sharply.
“Ah, I heard the statements had been written since three days ago. This point will require cross-verification as it was relayed through the dispatched investigator, but some among the bereaved family had frequently raised doubts, unable to accept his suicide. They wondered if he had been murdered, especially since there was no particular suicide note left behind.”
“How credible are they?”
“They are merely assumptions based on suspicion. However, the more reference material we have, the better.”
Loren, who had questioned him, nodded without a word, seemingly in agreement.
“There was also testimony that his relationship with his wife, who was mentioned as a strong suspect, was particularly poor. It is said that they fought frequently and that he even laid hands on her.”
“What a piece of trash.”
Venom, the 8th Battalion Commander, muttered as if adding a commentary. If the testimony were true, there was no other way to describe him, but it was an inappropriate word to use when evaluating the deceased, especially a former comrade. Hugo shifted his cold gaze.
As Venom fell silent, Shorendo turned to another page of the briefing materials.
“And… there was a statement that estimated the suspect from a slightly different perspective… However, since this is a statement from the wife, one of the primary suspects, there may have been a strong psychological desire to remove herself from the line of suspicion. That said, when I skimmed through it, it was the most absurd yet plausible scenario among the family testimonies.”
None of the meeting attendees rushed him to speak. They naturally assumed Shorendo’s next words would lead into that ‘plausible scenario.’ However, Shorendo looked slightly uneasy and hesitated for a moment before continuing.
“The reason the initial investigation judged Marcus Servan’s cause of death as suicide was, as mentioned in the previous briefing, because of the conspicuous evidence of the tongue-cut. On the other hand, the wound in the orbital area was hidden by Reverse Regeneration Magic, such as Recovery. To create a self-inflicted wound that is less than 1mm in diameter yet penetrates through to the skull, one must first be exceptionally skilled in handling concealed weapons.”
Meterion, who was quite displeased with the long-winded briefing, crossed his arms and rested his elbows on the table. Since he usually maintained a posture of looking down loftily, Verity Sharma, the 5th Battalion Commander sitting next to him, glanced at his unusual behavior.
The reason he was being particularly sensitive about today’s agenda was obvious. Having himself fallen under suspicion for the smuggling of the old-fashioned handcuffs, he wanted to catch and crush the real culprit who was causing him undue harm.
“Furthermore, one would need the strength or Magic Power to pierce the skull, as well as the anatomical knowledge to push a weapon precisely through the orbital fissure.”
Hugo quietly observed Meterion’s behavior while listening to Shorendo’s voice in the background. The man had many schemes, but he tended to show a stark, almost transparent difference between things he was interested in and things he wasn’t.
In that sense, Meterion’s current reaction led to the strange conclusion that he was truly taking this case seriously and wanted to uncover the truth.
‘Is the Noble Faction not involved?’
“Based on this series of valid grounds, the spouse of the late Marcus Servan, Vivian Servan…”
It was the moment Hugo, who had been rubbing his lips, turned his gaze back to Shorendo.
“…has pointed to Leonardo Blaine as the suspect in the case.”
A silence fell over the conference room for a moment.
As the situation flowed in an unexpected direction, Hugo’s eyelids flew open.
“…What?”
The information he had heard so far failed to connect smoothly. He wondered if this was what it felt like for one’s head to ring.
It was only natural that a reflexive question followed.
“What does that mean? Is there a valid basis for this?”
After a pause, Shorendo spoke the remaining words cautiously.
“There is supporting material submitted by Vivian Servan, but there are matters where the explanation is somewhat unclear to be adopted as evidence immediately. Therefore, before officially disclosing this material, I would like to request a final review from the Division Commander.”
As the Vice Commander finished speaking, the eyes of the Battalion Commanders shifted toward the Division Commander. Shorendo took the blurriest of the photos he had held, put it back in the envelope, and handed it to his aide-de-camp.
The Vice Commander’s aide handed it to Flynn, and Flynn, receiving the evidence, carried it to Hugo. Although he didn’t show it openly, Flynn, who was in the same room, also seemed quite flustered.
Hugo said nothing until the yellow envelope reached his hand.
While everyone looked at him, he spent a few seconds looking down at the envelope, simply organizing the complex situation.
The situation where he now had to personally pull out evidence that could make the person he had been whispering affections to just a moment ago the real culprit of a murder case.
‘What on earth…’
It was a cruel reality. But at the same time, an impulse arose to check it as quickly as possible. Because he had to prove it wasn’t him.
A myriad of thoughts flashed through his mind, but Hugo maintained the face of a rational Legion Commander. Rubbing the crumpled surface of the envelope, he opened the entrance without hesitation and pulled out a single photograph.
The faded black-and-white photo, stained by time and touch, showed an antique interior scene. Quite a few people were lined up there. Among the group of over twenty people, there were elderly people, young adults, and children. Behind them, the crest of the ‘Servan’ family, which resembled a human eye, sat within a frame. It appeared to be a family photo.
“…….”
How could a simple family photo serve as evidence pointing to a third party, who wasn’t even a member of the family, as the culprit? While scanning the faces one by one with doubt, his gaze naturally fell on a young girl standing in the corner. It was because her appearance was quite alien among the family members, who generally had dark hair.
The child alone had light-colored hair. While the exact color couldn’t be specified, it could be white, silver, or, looking more broadly, even blonde.
Because it was half-covered by long bangs, he couldn’t clearly see what the tiny face looked like.
However, Hugo’s brow gradually furrowed. It was because a strange sense of déjà vu was creeping around him.
“Hey, Ryan.”
Gillian, sitting opposite him, sent a gaze that was unusually tense. However, Leonardo responded with a nod as if to say it was fine. Since they had come all the way to have a meal together, he couldn’t maintain the Mystique Concept forever.
Setting his removed hat on his thigh, he swept back his bangs and murmured in a relaxed tone.
“That was fun.”
As he ruffled his flattened blonde hair, it gained a fair amount of volume. Under the yellowish lighting, the golden strands that shifted with his touch shimmered brilliantly. In parts where the light reflected, it almost sparkled like white hair.
“Then we should enjoy the second round too, right?”
Following that, the piece of white cloth that had been draped over his ears and the tip of his nose slid down along his elegant facial line. The two people sitting on either side of him both stared intently at Leonardo.
Suddenly, separate from the subtle scent of sunshine emanating from him, a distinct, intense fragrance brushed past their noses. Orca unconsciously sniffed slightly, like a dog catching a scent. Meanwhile, the piece of cloth completely fell away along his smooth jawline.
“…….”
Lips that had become noticeably redder and fuller were revealed beautifully. A captivating profile that one could never forget after seeing it once shimmered in close proximity.
Ero felt a sudden surge of intoxication. Otherwise, there would be no reason for his vision to waver as if he had suddenly lost where to look, nor for his face to flush.
Forgetting his duty to keep Orca in check, he stared blankly at his older brother’s face, which he was seeing in person for the first time.
Leonardo looked down slightly, perhaps embarrassed by the gazes focused on him in the silence. He needlessly touched his neck, checking if his tie was properly hidden by the turtleneck.
Only after the fabric touched his fingertips did he seem relieved enough to lift his eyelids. Clearing his throat and scanning the group once, he held up the glass of juice in front of him.
“What are you doing? Aren’t we Toasting?”
Gillian, sensing the atmosphere, followed suit and raised his glass. Ero, who had been stunned, hurriedly raised his as well.
“Ye—yes? Ah, of course!”
Just then, Orca, who had been drawn to Leonardo as if possessed, suddenly grabbed his hand. Then, he asked in an utterly serious tone.
“Lion, will you not take me as your partner?”
It felt as if a word or two were missing, but to Orca, that wasn’t particularly important.