The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

The prince poured brandy into the crystal cup.

"Will you have a drink?"

"I'm sorry. No thanks."

"It's still too early to enjoy drinking."

The second most splendid room in the Winter Palace.

The room prepared for the king's successor was a burdening atmosphere.

Sitting in a silk-covered chair in front of the bedroom and in a private room made me feel more uncomfortable.

I used to run out of energy. Now, he had to try his best not to break his head.

Either way or not, the prince on the other side swallowed a sip of brandy in the form of a full-page advertisement for a liquor company.

The scent was insanely wonderful, but the body was not in a state of acceptance.

"If you drink now, you'll pass out.’

Melchior only looked at this side slowly.

'I'm dying of pressure....’

It was Clayo's side that couldn't bear to start.

"Thank you just now."

"What?"

"for covering up complications."

"Didn't you take away the opportunity to raise your name?"

"I... I don't feel comfortable with that....”

"I don't like fame, I don't like fame, I don't like standing out. You only act the opposite way.”

Click, click.

Melchior puts the almost unabated brandy glass down on the table.

Even during the night, the gloves on my hands were dazzlingly white.

"But an awl in your pocket always pops up. Until when do you think you'll be able to hide all your powers that go out of orbit?”

"You've over-reviewed my qualities, and I'm more and more at a loss."

"Master Jebedi Fusis's research student, a wizard expected to be a wizard in the future, the youngest knight in Albion, and even a pioneer in Maddo Science.”

"Things like that… It sounds too heavy for me."

"That's right. They're too many names for a person to have, so it won't be easy to carry without determination. You're still young."

Melchior had a soft smile, but Clay remained vigilant.

Patting the "promise" on his left hand, he repeatedly checked to see if "separation" was working well.

"We'll have to look at the results of the verification, but if the Ether Activation is in place, I'll send you a royal consultant regarding patent applications and payment for use. I'll take care of it properly so that the words don't leak out.”

"Thank you for your attention in many ways."

"I didn't do that for you."

"Please lower your voice again, degradation. That title is still too much for me."

"I thought so, too, but rarely it turned out that my judgment was wrong. The article I gave you is not too good at all. You deserve it.”

When a smile is removed from a face as beautiful as the myth of Melchior, all that remains is the pressure of the stomach.

Clayo is now aware of the situation.

Before I knew it, Melchior's way of speaking had changed.

It was an awkwardly soft tone and a generation that seemed to be treating a younger brother disappeared.

"What's wrong with him? I'm dying.".’

The thought of wanting to pass out was like a chimney.

"Now I'm not talking to my youngest brother's close friend, but to the driver who gave me the Capital Defense Post myself.”

Melchior's hand stretched over the table.

Clayo tightened his back and bit himself reflexively.

Melchior, who was looking at it, tilted his head slightly sideways, as if he was a bit hurt - if it was appropriate for him to use such an expression.

He's a man who's fit for anything. I even felt bad.

"I don't remember anything tough on you, but you've always shunned me from the beginning to the present."

The ends of his hands wrapped in gloves hit Clayo's collar and fell off.

Melchior's touch was accompanied by a green, white, and navy ribbon with a gold rim.

It was a gesture asking, 'What's your position?'

Clay, who looked down at his collar and looked across Melchior, had already lost his mind.

'No, I'm scared, what am I supposed to do?.’

"Anyway. Whether you want it or not, too bright light is bound to attract people. It's the destiny of the powerful. After all these accomplishments, who can treat you as a mere young student?"

Clayo nodded as if he could see it.

"If your fame and glory are burdensome, why don't you come into my shadow? If you want, I'll never write about you again in any daily newspaper, and I'll make sure your name doesn't come up and go out of anyone's mouth. So that your peaceful life can last."

It was a momentary suggestion, even though the Separation was turned on.

Even if he couldn't read his mind at all, Melchior saw at once what Clay wanted most.

'It's not even a unique skill... Isn't it just a superpower?'

Even Melchior's words were not about 'possibilities'. It's about the possibility.

He will be able to do so.

It will break journalists' pens, blur the illustrators' memories, prevent the desk from allowing them to publish articles, and confuse the paper drawers.

If Clay-o nods.

If you say you don't want any more fame.

If you ask for his help.

"Or title? I am the king's plenipotentiary, and I can give you anything you want. It's no big deal for me to put your name on the first line of next year's House of Lords.

It was the worst-case negotiation with the worst-case opponent.

Clay bit his mouth tightly with his molars. I should have come to my senses by doing so.

"If you fall for the crown prince here, how do you see Arthur's face... No, even the author won't be able to tolerate it. If I make a mistake, it's all up to me to get it back. Uh-huh.'

I've already had a lot of it. Clayo, who didn't want to hit any more, desperately grabbed the strings.

"Why do you think I want a title, degradation?"

"I made a bet with my dad. If you get a title, you're going to inherit that wonderful mansion in the West Bank."

'Where else did you find that?’

Arthur cannot read his thoughts, and Dionne is not in a position to run into Melchior. In that case….

"Don't be too surprised. I'm always looking forward to meeting with Grayer, who always brings me new and mysterious news."

'That's a leaky hole!’

Vasco Grayer wouldn't have had to read his mind.

You must have been very excited about what happened at Asher's mansion that day. It was fortunate that Vasco was not attached to the capital.

"The police could not stop praising him for having the scars of 'prediction'."

"I know that, too...!’

Obviously, restoring the "Begg's Sword" that day was difficult without the "prediction" of the "prediction."

If I had known that Melchior would leak words directly from Vasco, I would have been more careful about what I did that day.

"What can I do if I regret it now? Ugh.'

"If you have any connection with the Grayer, I'm sure you know that he has a temper to exaggerate a bit. Whatever you expect from me, what I have will be below what you expect."

"It's a lame excuse to come out like that. It would be nice if I told you something fresh, wouldn't it?"

Melchior laughed, casting a shadow on his eyelashes. It was a dramatic smile like the smiles of the actresses in the silver screen.

the kind of expression so beautiful that it can never be understood to be real

At that moment.

As if directed, the chilly autumn wind pushed through the window scatters blond hair as if it had produced platinum.

The bedroom door is pushed gently behind Melchior's back. In the bedroom, the heavy insignia of the silk bed shakes a little.

The tip of the body, which was completely covered behind the insignia, is revealed and disappeared.

‘!!!’

With his eyes wide open, Clayo can't help but forget his deathly tiredness and turn on "Late."

The bloody smell behind the dizziness is now familiar.

The insignia slows down. Perception provides an enlarged view of the landscape.

exceptionally large feet loose boots

Behind his stiffened feet lies the head of a man with a cut on his forehead. There is fear on the face of the dead man.

Clayo recognizes them.

The members of "The Flag" who attacked Fran were "Big Foot Bill" and "Jackson Paul."

It would not have been an arrangement to be found out. Clay would never have recognized their bodies without their own skills.

Melchior also sees what Clayo sees.

He looks back gracefully in a non-urgent manner, and holds his chin in one hand.

He will neither hide the body nor deny the murder.

"Oh, you've seen it. You have good eyes."

Clayo's eyes, which were inspired by "Lateness," caught the only flaw in the prince's flawless appearance.

White gloves that have not gone stiff, and a drop of red blood that splashes between the freshly ironed sleeves.

It wasn't black yet, so it was red blood.

The correlation between the body of the bedroom and these drops of blood seemed clear.

Does the prince catch people?’

Of course, I know he can. It is well described in the previous manuscript.

However, it is a different story to face it in person than to read it in writing.

Clayo's pale face faded as white as pottery.

"They dared to offer me a deal, but they offered me a very moral proposal. You want to get Fran Wyatt's wrist? It makes sense."

"I don't know why you're suddenly telling me this."

"First of all, I'm going to honor you. You protected Francis from the mob. If I had lost Francis there, I would have felt deeply sorry. "Thanks to you, my knight was able to secure the rebels who wandered through the forest in time."

Even if the radicals of the "flags" were misjudged by excessive fear, in the end, Melchior was the main culprit of the whole affair.

The blood that stained the boy's broken glasses, Clayo recalled.

My hair was cooler and I didn't even feel tired.

"What do you know about Francis Gabriel Hyde?"

"It was strange to insist on going out during the night, so I tried to stop him, but he didn't listen to me and followed me. I felt threatened."

How far can we talk about minimizing damage to Fran, himself and both?

Looking back at what I looked through, Melchior knew that Fran belonged to an underground organization.

I can't cover it up. In that case….

"With youthful vigor... I'm worried that he's got a hard time with some theory, and he's got a violent voice."

Hoping to be seen as the son of a rich man concerned about his radical classmates, Clay continued.

"Young blood. I guess you didn't recognize your friend's true character. He's an ideological activist, and he's the kind of person who'll never fall for conciliations unless he really convinces him."

'No, it's impossible to fool Melchior.’

"Of course, if I had enough time, I could persuade him."

"Why would you go so far? He's got some radical ideas, but he's still a little boy."

"It's the duty of a politician to get talent. But Lord Clayo is acting like an adult protecting a child with a hydrate diet. Isn't he older than you?"

It was so sharp that it froze the guard.

Clayo, who had "Jeongjin" inside, had never honestly considered Francis older than he was.

Melchior is younger than I am. I don't think it's too. It may be a thousand-year-old monster.'

"I was asked by the dean of the school to lead his studies, so I think I wanted to protect him."

"You don't have to be defensive. I don't know what I imagined, but I always treated Francis Hyde with generosity. How can you treat such a rare talent?"

"My head is so dim that it's hard to keep up with the words."

"Lord Clyo, you know what Francis's scar is?”

'Why don't the brothers in this family turn on the blinker? You have to use a knife.’