By Zephyria 
Hugo’s lips parted as he listened to the final move. Then, his eyes narrowed. Utilization—one thought led to another, spiraling forward.
“In that case….”
Fragmented memories he had tucked away were fitting together like a puzzle, and just as a new hypothesis began to surface—
Knock, knock—
A low knocking sound echoed from outside the conference room. A member of the investigation team guarding the entrance turned his head.
The small conference room in front of the Legion Commander’s office was primarily used by high-ranking commanders, so it was rare for someone to visit unexpectedly during a meeting—unless it was an aide-de-camp delivering urgent news.
“Division Commander.”
Sure enough, a cautious voice leaked in. Hugo, who had also looked toward the door, pushed back his chair and stood up.
“Let’s take a ten-minute break before resuming.”
“Yes, understood.”
Raising a palm to ask for the attendees’ understanding, he gave a final nod to Loren. Loren likewise tilted her head and withdrew her hand from the tabletop. Hugo stepped out of the conference room to organize his thoughts.
Click—
His aide-de-camp, Gabe, was standing in the quiet hallway. As Gabe bowed, he held the communication magic tool that Hugo had left in his office. Seeing that it was lit, it appeared to be connected to someone.
“What is it?”
“It is Flynn. Regarding the matter you instructed previously—”
“Over here.”
Immediately grasping the purpose, Hugo closed the door behind him and took the magic tool. He then strode across the hallway and entered his office.
Approaching the reception sofa, he leaned back deeply and got straight to the point through the magic tool.
“What happened?”
—Ah, Division Commander.
As Gabe followed him in and closed the door, the air of the office was sealed off, becoming far more silent than the hallway.
Thanks to that, Flynn’s troubled voice sounded exceptionally clear to Hugo.
—I apologize for interrupting your busy schedule. To give you the result first… the request for cooperation was rejected. The reason given was a refusal of access.
“Refused?”
Hugo questioned in a puzzled tone. Narrowing his brow, he brushed back his hair and asked again.
“My signature and the Council’s official seal were both on it, and the request was refused? Why?”
—I requested a reconsideration several times, but they keep repeating that providing information is difficult due to security issues. They told me that if there is a separate ongoing investigation, I should organize the reason why the information is needed along with the case records and send it again as an official document. I told them I understood for now and stepped out to the lobby so as not to seem too persistent… but in my opinion, I don’t think they will grant permission even if we organize the details and send them.
Hugo bit his lip firmly. The site Flynn was currently visiting was the Residency Management Headquarters under the Empire’s Immigration Bureau.
The Immigration Bureau was an agency that managed the lists of people entering and leaving the country. While not universal, it stored the personal information of those traveling abroad, studying, performing duties under state orders, or engaging in trade—anyone crossing between the Empire and other nations for specific purposes. Furthermore, it was the agency that not only handled these formal entries but also accepted refugees, screened the initial entry qualifications for those from Bermuda, and prepared the integration process.
Not long ago, Hugo had sent a request for cooperation to the agency to view the list of entrants from Bermuda and their initial adoption placements. However, because the approval was taking longer than expected, he had sent Flynn to urge them along, and the result was the disappointing answer he had just received.
As things were not going as planned, Hugo let out a low sigh and continued.
“…Then, what about the person I told you to meet? Did he say the same thing?”
—Ah, Sir Ashford readily agreed to help. However, looking at the situation, it doesn’t seem like it will be easy. He is currently going back and forth to the Management Headquarters, and the atmosphere isn’t very good. I was contacting you to ask what to do if this is also rejected….
—Aide-de-camp Revernil.
Just then, a familiar voice was heard through the magic tool. It was the voice of Sir Ashford, whom Flynn had mentioned.
He was a distant relative of Hugo’s and a former peer he had briefly encountered during his military days. Currently, he was a soldier belonging to the Special Execution Department under the Immigration Bureau; on the surface, he handled customs duties, but in reality, he was in charge of rougher missions such as the forceful suppression of illegal immigrants and the rooting out of smuggled goods.
Occasionally, he also served as a secret helper to the General Legion Commander of the Council, who handled the Empire’s internal affairs.
—Division Commander, Sir Ashford has arrived. Shall I speak with him and contact you again?
“No, don’t hang up. Keep the line open. I’ll be listening.”
—Understood.
After a short reply, Flynn looked up at the man who had approached him.
The man had left quite gently, promising to help, but his face looked somewhat dark, which made Flynn inwardly anxious. “Well, I don’t know how to explain this,” he began slowly, and after seeing Immigration officials passing behind them, he led Flynn to a secluded corner. Only after confirming that no one was around did he finally pull out a piece of paper he had hidden within his broad chest.
“It may sound absurd, but among the ten years of records you requested to view, there was no information regarding Leonardo Blaine.”
“…What?”
“Just in case, I searched for names that could be suspected as short names, but while there were separate records for Leo, Leonardo, and Blaine, they didn’t seem to be the same person. There was simply no record of a child with blonde hair and gold eyes entering the country.”
Both Flynn, who heard it directly, and Hugo, beyond the communication magic tool, raised their eyebrows.
“What does that mean? Then… are you saying he isn’t from Bermuda?”
“Who knows. It’s already common knowledge that Leonardo Blaine is from Bermuda, so that’s unlikely, and if he weren’t, he would have denied it himself. Being from there isn’t particularly helpful for success in this country. In this case, it’s more likely that the records were omitted or someone erased them. Whether it was Dark Silver, where Leonardo Blaine belonged, or some invisible hand.”
Flynn pondered Ashford’s words as he flipped through the pages of paper he had been handed. The documents contained the records of the Leos, Leonardos, and Blaines mentioned earlier. However, the content was far too meager to be summarized in just a few pages; mostly, there were only the addresses of the first foster care facilities they were moved to and their changed names, with no records thereafter. Even the two who had been under tracking observation until age 16 due to their notable magic power had not become soldiers or taken jobs that would make them known to the public.
Since there were no clues in the listed physical characteristics or behavioral patterns that would remind one of him, it was correct to view them as entirely different people, despite having the same initial names.
After stuffing the contents of the documents into his head, Flynn barely managed to speak.
“Among those from Bermuda… is it possible for entry records to be erased if they belong to a special elite unit or an Imperial defense agency?”
“I’ve heard it happened rarely a long time ago, but it should be considered impossible during the period we’ve narrowed down. If such things happened indiscriminately, wouldn’t the meaning of keeping a list disappear? Since most people from Bermuda would want to erase their origin records, the Immigration Bureau would strictly forbid the modification of the list for the sake of the agency’s authority.”
“But you just said someone might have erased it….”
Flynn trailed off, fearing he might sound rude. Ashford, glancing at a grandfather clock standing to one side, continued.
“I’ve heard there was occasional pressure from noble clans to give a new identity and erase the old one in order to register someone from Bermuda into their family. Since many from Bermuda possess rare talents, they would have been quite a good investment. Of course, as far as I know, there are no successful cases, but since it’s ‘Leonardo Blaine,’ I just thought that the hand of a powerful figure might have reached him.”
Hearing this, Flynn felt a prick of guilt. Although Sir Ashford was a distant relative of Hugo’s, they were not close enough to openly discuss the Duke’s birth status. However, as a story similar to the man’s past emerged, Flynn pretended to be composed and changed the subject.
“A-ah, I see. Thank you. I will return the documents to you. And regarding the matter I asked, to other people….”
“Of course, I’ll keep quiet. I don’t know what investigation you’re conducting, but I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“Not at all. If you hadn’t stepped forward, I would have returned without knowing a thing. I sincerely thank you.”
“I’ll let you know if I obtain more information later. Give my regards to the Duke. I have a schedule, so I’ll be going now.”
“Yes, please go ahead.”
Flynn bowed deeply to the man who had carved out time from his busy schedule to help. With a light wave of his hand, Ashford tucked the documents back into his coat and turned away.
Staring at his retreating back, Flynn whispered into the now-silent communication magic tool.
“Division Commander, are you listening?”
—Yes.
“What should we do now?”