The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

Clayo knew the origin of that smell as if it had been engraved on his bone. It was the smell of the Northern Gate Underground Prison where he had been detained until three days ago.

Were you questioning Arthur? You're not going to find out anything special about her, and what the hell are you trying to force her to do?

His head was throbbing for a moment, but he gave strength to his back and straightened his neck to avoid showing any signs of it.

The world has not been shaken yet.

Arthur can be released soon if things go as planned.

No, I had to make it happen.

Clay said hello to the governor of Kishion, Arthur, about his detention.

Immediately arguing about a first-degree treason is not conducive to changing the situation.

"Thanks for your time in the midst of the busy construction. You must have taken the fast route, saving precious time."

The prince laughed a little when he heard Clayo's retribution.

The conversation between the two was similar to dancing to the beat. Reverting the right answer at the right time without believing each other's words.

The prince, seated on the one-man sofa, reached out one hand and pointed to the chair on the right.

Due to the entirely separate action, Clay was able to move calmly without shaking.

"Yeah. You've exempted me from waiting six weeks, so just get to the point. If I think it's not that nutritious, I should get up for the next schedule.”

The prince's schedule was usually arranged six weeks in advance, and it was true that allowing such an unexpected meeting was a great privilege.

It was rather shameless to pick up and hide Clayo and his friends.

But now, Clay was not here to pick up the crown prince and Sisyphi. I'm not in a position like that.

'Let's drag on somehow. It won't be easy.'

He was the first solo crown prince since the winter night of Tristane's estate, which was attacked by Masu Grendel.

Unlike then, his face was clear and his eyes looked young. Perhaps the aftereffects of the use of scarring have not yet occurred.

The prince regularly patted the back of his right hand with his left index finger. At first glance, he seemed relaxed, but in reality, he was clearly in a hurry.

He won't be able to be held by any decoy.

Clay thinks of the bullet he has under his tongue.

Is it appropriate to write now? If we reveal more information to him here, won't the future twist in the worse direction?

If there was no hesitation, it would be a lie.

'But you have to. I didn't think of a better way.’

Even Arthur, who was younger than now, said he would take responsibility for the consequences and aftermath of his actions, but it was outrageous for him to avoid the situation for a long time.

Clayo opened his mouth.

"I have something to tell you about the experiments that were conducted at the expense of our people. It's believed that it happened in the process of upgrading a very unique drug that makes Ezra's iron handwriting and Masu's blood the raw material."

"Well, tell me more."

"The name of the drug is Hydra's Poison. It's a drug that a student of the Capital Defense Corps made and took 99 years ago and died of a violent death. The aftereffects are great enough to devastate the surrounding area when the number of users is soaring."

"Why do such a strange poison sacrifice the people?"

"Ezra's iron fillets, the main ingredient of the poison, are grasses that are effective in combating the evil spirits. If you survive by taking poison made by mixing it in the blood of the beast, you will have an ether sensitivity that you didn't have."

The crown prince's fingertips stopped moving.

Clayo's judgment was valid.

Revealing issues that were not mentioned in the previous manuscript clearly drew the attention of the prince.

"Where did you get that information?”

"You remember last winter, the opera house was in chaos. Maybe the prosecutors who went on a rampage at the time were also doing their personal investigation because they thought they might be the ones who took the drug."

"What have you been tracking for two years as a clue?"

"It's a red ether. All those who took Hydra's poison seemed to have a red ether regardless of the level. But there was no evidence except sightings in the chaos, so it was difficult to report to the Capital Defense."

In silence, rusted bronze eyes glow with metallic luster. Being young in the face of a prince is a strange joy.

"Red ethera. Sir Rosa, the sodmaster, was also rosy. Not like him?"

"It's completely different. It's not a bright and vivid red color like Lord Rosa, but a dark red and murky ether. Even if they produce ether sensitivity with drugs like that, no one has ever been seen as a sodmaster, and the higher the level of expression due to the side effects of drugs, the weaker the reason seems."

"What is the pattern of weakness?"

"People cause damage such as animal attacks. covet the blood of another life and crumble the building. And so, thanks to this investigation, we were able to come to this conclusion."

"If the side effects are so severe, how can there be so many people who drink the poison without any benefit from raising the level?"

"My guess is that subjects don't take drugs voluntarily, but someone kidnaps or tricks innocent people into taking dangerous poison."

"Hmm. For what purpose is someone making drugs using hard-to-get blood, even experimenting?"

"The purpose of the disastrous experiment is believed to be the stabilization of the drug. While containing the side effects, we need adjustments to raise the level of ether that we express to a higher level."

with a gulp

Clayo choked and swallowed a dry saliva.

"…the only person who has repeatedly experimented with cruelty with the aim of stabilizing the drug is believed to be an albion in close contact with Brunnen. I've heard rumors that a Red Ether miner often appeared in provincial cities on both Bruneen and Albion, with the Pintos Mountains between them."

"And you, you know the name of the one with the deep connection.”

"That's right."

"Go."

"But my lord, my pen name is precious, and I cannot dare put it into my mouth just by conjecture."

Melchior smiles softly when he puts his hair behind his shoulders.

"The man you are single now is King Albion's deputy. But if you're afraid to mention your name, you've already answered, haven't you?

Clayo chose a horse for a moment.

That nonchalant response... Does it mean that Aslan and Juleica already know that they're the original?

The year before last, a red ether was running around in the middle of the capital, so Melchior must have had enough time to track down the background.

However, it was not easy to dig up the true meaning beyond his smile. So I lowered my attitude to raise Melchior.

"As expected, it wasn't the first time you had any information about your loyal servants. You may already be working on a plan to stop the cruel experiment, but I'm surprised to hear the news and apologize for the unexpected behavior."

"Well, even in Korea, it wasn't easy to use because there were no talented people to open a foreign department. Is it because I wanted to let you know that my brother's hobby has gone a little too far in the area I overlooked?"

"Low…."

"That's a very presumptuous act.”

Clay, who heard Melchior's answer, suddenly realizes it. The prince in this terrible conversation seemed quite amused.

The author is aware of Aslan's brutal biological experiment but neglects it.

'No, it's not like neglect. If you give evidence of the brutal experiment that Aslan and Julica are doing, you don't want to stop it.’

"Of course, it was my first time seeing it, so I'll admit that it was hard to figure out what it really was."

Clayo could see the origin of the joy the prince enjoys.

Aslan's rampage was also the first of its kind for Melchior. So how can you not be happy?

Those who lived nine lives did not distinguish good from evil like those who lived only once.

However, understanding was not acceptable. Without realizing it, Clayo's fist was clenched tightly.

The odor of rotting water and the smell of darkened skin circled the tip of the nose like a fantasy.

Gheheim's pain The downfall of humanity experienced by those who were trapped with him.

It all happened in real life and was an act that reduced a man's life to insignificantly.

Clayo has yet to forget the moment when his fingertips, which collapsed with poison and burns, were falling off with the loss of life.

"I think many innocent civilians of Albion and Brunen were killed. It's a matter that should not be left unattended."

Clayo's tone remained calm, but Melchior sensed the faintest anger among them.

"Sacrifice. Do you want to argue that their deaths are a tragedy that can never be undone?"

Today, the scarlet color fades only with the comb, and with warm-looking eyes with a wide range of turquoise, Melchior looks at Clayo.

"You have a strong construction with the sign of the 'prediction' and the meaning of the chosen man to God. But you're trying to argue to me that you don't know the principles of the construction. Just know one thing, Lord Clayo. You're terrible at lying."

The prince was completely convinced that Clay knew the world's repeat.

He speaks in a cheerful tone.

"Time in this world is circulating. Those who have died now will be alive again in the next phase, and that death is sad and sad?"

Clayo's lips froze.

'Don't kill' was a common human commandment.

But what will ethics be supported by if the dead come back and even murder is extinguished?

Only the prince's smile deepens in front of the wizard's silence.

"The lost flowers do not die entirely, but bloom again when the sun goes down and the season comes back. You'll understand what I mean if you get into garden work."

For Melchior, Clay realizes more desperately than ever that human life is worth flowers.

"Even if history repeats itself, if you don't have a full memory of repetition, the death is just death. Don't you know? Even if we can go back to what we were before, the pain we went through is still painful."

Interest dies down in the prince's expression and cold indifference begins to fade.

"If you want to preach, I'll give you a place in the church, but don't test my patience. And that's the end of it."

The prince turned to the wall clock. Good-looking lips heralded a horse and sprang up. The next one is definitely a guest.

Clay answered urgently.

"So what you really hope is that the season will come when no flowers will ever bloom again in the garden of God?"

Ultimately, it was a straightforward question whether you wanted to stop this repetition.

As if to invoke the rescue of Ganpa, the scarlet light in Melchior's eyes widened the area like a flame. Clayo, who wrote this, increased the intensity of the separation to the maximum.

A great deal of pressure pressed down on the office.

But soon after he regained his composure, Melchior quickly combined his skills.

"God's Garden. What an accurate expression. Yes, if you look down at the world from far away, it may just look like a garden of pleasure.

Do you know, Lord Clayo? Underneath the idyllic landscape of the garden lies the struggle of death, the cycle of life, and the struggle of survival that is eaten and eaten.

As difficult as blooming is, it's not easy not to grow a single blade of grass from the soil. We can't see the result of the dirt right now, today, tomorrow. If you want to plant every branch or flower as you wish, you have to be patient for countless years.

I'm quite used to that kind of thing.

Until then, I'm willing to watch the new blooming flowers every time.

Of course, the flowers that bloom again don't have the same shape as before, surgery and pistil, and they don't spread out petals of the same size. The subtle difference is a feeble reward given only to those who wait.

So, for example, if you're not curious about how the magic sorcerer of the afterlife will be next, it's a myth. Someone who wasn't even alive before now is now in and out of my office."