“Do you know how much trouble we had to go through to find the researchers scattered across the country and even destroy their data?”
The smiling lips of the man once called the Mad Duke twisted into a chilling, bizarre twist. Noah Rotsilt possessed neither mercy nor understanding nor empathy for others. With his expressionless face and dry tone, he poured out harsh criticism, his face devoid of all emotion.
"If you really wanted to end everything on your own terms, you should have stopped the experiment. You're just a disgusting failure who ran away, afraid of being shot like your parents, who failed in their research. You came here because you were worried about your ailing grandfather? After receiving a call offering to protect and guarantee your life? You came simply because you wanted to live."
It was an insulting remark, but it was so based on fact that he couldn't even refute it. Dr. Libert hung his head, his face pale. Frogen had invested countless hours and money in the practical application of atomic bomb theory, only to fail repeatedly. His parents, who were the researchers in charge, were executed for it. He had resented his grandfather, who, upon realizing it would be used for murder, had burned the most crucial research data and abandoned his family. He had felt guilt upon reading the letters he had left behind, but his highest priority was his own life.
Dr. Libert barely survived the purge, having achieved recognition for his research progress and dedicated himself to perfecting it, but the problem remained unresolved. Seeing his research fail after failure, the pressure and fear became unbearable. He finally decided to flee. He rescued the corpses of the poor, placed them in his home, set them on fire, and pretended to be dead. He then fled to the Cynthia Empire with his wife and young daughter. While hiding with the help of a nobleman from Medea, he heard the news that his grandfather was under protection in Medea, along with the words, "The Knight of the Round Table has drawn the Queen card." His hopes that, as his grandson, he would also be protected proved true.
"Is it wrong to try to survive? You came here to escape to survive, too!"
Dr. Libert's eyes grew bloodshot as he recalled the horrific experience and the fear he felt. Noah, holding the pistol, tilted his head, his expression utterly unsympathetic.
“No, I didn’t come to Medea because I didn’t want to die.”
“What other reason could there be for abandoning the Emperor’s trust, your immense wealth, and your promising future than to flee after your conspiracy with the powerful families known as the Knights of the Round Table was discovered?”
Noah smiled faintly.
“I disobeyed the imperial edict to save my wife, betrayed my country, and came here prepared to die.”
That man risked his life, giving up everything he had for another? Dr. Libert, his mouth shut, stared at him with an expression as if he'd been struck. Noah slowly waved a hand at him, who stood there blankly.
"Well then, it's time for my wife and me to go for a walk with the dog. A respectable gentleman keeps his promises."
Dr. Libert suddenly came to his senses as he saw the finger on the trigger slowly moving. He collapsed to his knees and began to beg desperately.
“Please save me. I have failed so many times already, and I cannot truly perfect it.”
Those words were utterly useless against his ruthlessness. He laughed, covering his mouth with the hand holding the gun. A snigger escaped beneath the barrel.
The smiling lips of the man once called the Mad Duke twisted into a chilling, bizarre twist. Noah Rotsilt possessed neither mercy nor understanding nor empathy for others. With his expressionless face and dry tone, he poured out harsh criticism, his face devoid of all emotion.
"If you really wanted to end everything on your own terms, you should have stopped the experiment. You're just a disgusting failure who ran away, afraid of being shot like your parents, who failed in their research. You came here because you were worried about your ailing grandfather? After receiving a call offering to protect and guarantee your life? You came simply because you wanted to live."
It was an insulting remark, but it was so based on fact that he couldn't even refute it. Dr. Libert hung his head, his face pale. Frogen had invested countless hours and money in the practical application of atomic bomb theory, only to fail repeatedly. His parents, who were the researchers in charge, were executed for it. He had resented his grandfather, who, upon realizing it would be used for murder, had burned the most crucial research data and abandoned his family. He had felt guilt upon reading the letters he had left behind, but his highest priority was his own life.
Dr. Libert barely survived the purge, having achieved recognition for his research progress and dedicated himself to perfecting it, but the problem remained unresolved. Seeing his research fail after failure, the pressure and fear became unbearable. He finally decided to flee. He rescued the corpses of the poor, placed them in his home, set them on fire, and pretended to be dead. He then fled to the Cynthia Empire with his wife and young daughter. While hiding with the help of a nobleman from Medea, he heard the news that his grandfather was under protection in Medea, along with the words, "The Knight of the Round Table has drawn the Queen card." His hopes that, as his grandson, he would also be protected proved true.
"Is it wrong to try to survive? You came here to escape to survive, too!"
Dr. Libert's eyes grew bloodshot as he recalled the horrific experience and the fear he felt. Noah, holding the pistol, tilted his head, his expression utterly unsympathetic.
“No, I didn’t come to Medea because I didn’t want to die.”
“What other reason could there be for abandoning the Emperor’s trust, your immense wealth, and your promising future than to flee after your conspiracy with the powerful families known as the Knights of the Round Table was discovered?”
Noah smiled faintly.
“I disobeyed the imperial edict to save my wife, betrayed my country, and came here prepared to die.”
That man risked his life, giving up everything he had for another? Dr. Libert, his mouth shut, stared at him with an expression as if he'd been struck. Noah slowly waved a hand at him, who stood there blankly.
"Well then, it's time for my wife and me to go for a walk with the dog. A respectable gentleman keeps his promises."
Dr. Libert suddenly came to his senses as he saw the finger on the trigger slowly moving. He collapsed to his knees and began to beg desperately.
“Please save me. I have failed so many times already, and I cannot truly perfect it.”
Those words were utterly useless against his ruthlessness. He laughed, covering his mouth with the hand holding the gun. A snigger escaped beneath the barrel.
"I know you've already contacted officials from the New World under the pretext of a new materials project. And you've come all this way because you haven't received a response."
"That..."
Dr. Libert, who had been begging, felt it was useless, sobbed softly, his head falling to the floor. Noah looked down at the weeping man with impassive eyes. As he lay prostrate, a thought suddenly occurred to him. It was a concept that anyone from the Frogen Empire had been thoroughly indoctrinated with since childhood.
“Only those who contribute to the country and are excellent and needed by the country will survive.”
"It is the law of nature that the inferior are eliminated. Just as primates evolved, the most unnecessary parts disappeared first, and the inferior individuals went extinct."
Dr. Libert raised his head.
“I will be the person you need. To Count Rotsilt, and to Medea.”
“You said with your own mouth that you were useless, and now you’re saying that?”
“While staying in Chyntia, I discovered a new possibility.”
“No, I don’t have to listen. I have to change clothes, and I’m busy.”
Noah looked down at his wristwatch and responded in a disinterested tone. Driven into a dead end, Dr. Libert desperately clung to him, raising his voice.
"Of course you'll need it. If you give me a little more time, I can write it up in report form and show it to you."
“Even though you said that, there’s a high chance that you’ll run away again?”
"I swear I won't run away. I can't leave my grandfather behind, and I know I'll die anyway, like the other researchers who ran away."
"Really? Whether I kill you or use you as needed will depend on your report."
“If you give me a chance, I will never let you down.”
A look of relief spread across Dr. Libert's face as he saw Noah put the gun away in his bosom. But the chilling words that followed quickly dispelled that fleeting light.
"You can't leave this country without my help anyway. The Frogen side has discovered you're alive and has issued a wanted notice. Of course, I'm the one who leaked the information."
Contrary to the harsh words, a calm and refined voice followed.
“From now on, do as I say.”
With no other options left, the expressionless man turned away. Dr. Libert, shoulders slumped, stared blankly at Noah's back as he left the room. Noah's lips formed a line as he left the room, closed the door, and walked down the hallway.
The research data required for the Release Plan, a simultaneous atomic bomb research and development project led by Medea and involving two nations, is completely recorded in the mind of Noah, who was tasked with disposing of the Frogen Michael Project. The crucial research data, the final research data that Dr. Rugen incinerated and ultimately failed, is also vividly remembered in his childhood memories of seeing it in his personal laboratory. To buy time, Noah told the Queen that Dr. Rugen's grandson, Dr. Libert, possessed the final data, crucial to its completion. In fact, Noah's goal was not to complete the atomic bomb.
Plan 2, one of the plans modified to achieve Diana's desired mediocrity, involves destroying all information and research and hindering the development plans of the world's powers as much as possible.
“Perhaps, the era of Queen Diana will never come.”
A faint light flashed across Noah's clouded blue eyes as he looked up at the ceiling.
***
I changed into my street clothes and sat on the living room sofa, waiting for Noah. I saw Noah coming down the stairs after finishing his conversation with Dr. Libert. He must have changed clothes in the meantime; he was wearing black suspenders over a light shirt without a tie.
“Honey, have you been waiting long?”
"Woof!"
Boaz, who had been waiting with me, jumped up and wagged his tail.
“Are you my honey?”
"Woof!"
Boaz, excited by the time it was time for his walk, circled around Noah, barking at him as he held his leash. He then turned to me and smiled brightly.
Dr. Libert's wife, Merlin, who was sitting across from me, drinking tea, spoke to me with a smile on her face.
“You have a truly loving husband.”
“Yes, it’s sweet. And you too, Dr. Libert?”
“That’s right. He’s a good husband and a good father.”
She took out her pocket watch and opened it to reveal a picture of her daughter, who looked exactly like her. She had curly brown hair like Merlin's and looked to be about ten years old.
"This is my daughter, Jenny. With Mr. Reynolds's help, she attends a prestigious boarding school in Francia."
“She’s pretty.”
"Yes, it's like a blessing that came to us like a gift. You'll understand what that happiness is when you have children later."
Hearing about children brings up a strange fantasy. Perhaps that's what it means to be a complete family. Feeling a little uneasy, I glanced at Noah and offered him an awkward smile.
Noah and I left the mansion and headed toward the path beside the reservoir. The gentle waves reflected the sunset, sparkling like molten gold. The slightly pungent scent of the reservoir water mingled with the fresh scent of grass. We walked, keeping pace with the slow pace of the old dog, who still limped. The sun, having ended the day, slowly sank below the mountain ridge, and the world seemed to move slowly in time with Boaz's pace.
Noah's silver-white hair was dyed golden. He would have looked great even as a blonde. Black hair was sexy. Especially black hair in uniform...
“Diana.”
"Yes?"
I felt like my sinister thoughts had been discovered, so I answered with a trembling voice, even ruffling the hem of my skirt.
“It’s pretty.”
“Suddenly?”
“Enough to make me want to tell you.”
This man occasionally makes unannounced expressions of affection. While his sentences aren't elaborately crafted with sweet words, his concise expressions are genuine. Perhaps he's just trying his best. Noah, lost in thought for a moment, then his face took on a serious expression.
“It’s under the sunset, so, um, it’s like a trophy.”
That's the result of all that hard work. He was overflowing with affection, but he lacked the expressive power to express it, so he often resorted to strange metaphors.
“What does it look like?”
“Golden Lion. It’s given to those who have served in war.”
"Yes..."
“I think it’s beautiful. It’s delicate and detailed, having been worked thousands of times by the hands of a famous goldsmith.”
“I don’t know what it is, but yes.”
He looked a little upset to see me not being very happy.
“What is the prettiest thing you know, honey?”
“Me? Well...”
Lacking the sass and courage to say, 'It's you, though?', I just rubbed the back of my neck.
Noah gave his signature fox-like smile.
“Since I met you, there are a lot of things I find pretty.”
“What do I have?”
"There are so many. The way you groan while eating bread, the way you sometimes play on the swing, the way you play with Boaz, the way you draw, the way you look under the sunset, like now. And you're beautiful at night, too. In bed with me..."
“Ah! I see!”
I blushed and quickly cut off his words. Anyway, I know you're going to tell me I'm beautiful day and night, so I don't think I need to hear any more. It's not something I should be saying in front of Boaz, who's looking up at me with those innocent brown eyes, even though no one's listening.
“You’re always pretty. You’ll be pretty tomorrow too.”
Only then did Noah, who had finally reached his conclusion, wrap his arms around my shoulders and kiss me on the corner of my eye. My cheeks, which had barely cooled, began to heat up again, so I lowered my gaze and looked down at my toes. I don't know why my face still blushed, as if I were in a relationship. Thank goodness the sunset was hiding it.
***
The Liberts decided to stay at the mansion for the time being. They said it was to help Noah with his work and look after Dr. Rugen, but I subconsciously realized it was related to nuclear research. But why would someone who fled in fear of that research ever want to help again?
Medea is a peace-loving nation, isn't it? Using force to suppress wars under the guise of peace might sound appealing, but it's no different from conquest and domination. Simply developing and possessing it would instill fear in neighboring nations, so wouldn't that be a way to achieve peace and end the war once and for all? After the war, we'll depart for the beautiful island of Van Saint in the New World, where we'll spend the rest of our lives in a mundane, uneventful day.
Dr. Rugen still considered his grandson and his wife his own parents. He was genuinely delighted to meet those who had long since vanished, and he was as happy as a child. No, he was truly becoming a child. Over the next few days, his condition seemed to worsen, and he eventually lost control of his bowels. His granddaughter-in-law, Merlin, was a kind and gentle woman. She took care of the old man, whom even the maids had come to dislike, and cared for him with utmost devotion.
“Oh my, my grandfather peed himself again. I’ll change your clothes for you.”
"Mom."
An old man wearing a child's chin rest smiled brightly at Merlin as she pulled a pair of trousers from a drawer. The moment the maid entered the room, removed the bedsheets and blankets, and carried the bedding out, a loud crash was heard, followed by Merlin's scream.
“Grandpa?”
The woman who had helped him change his trousers was now slumped to the floor. Dr. Rugen, who had fiercely pushed Merlin away, was now terrifyingly pale. He licked his dry, purple lips and muttered softly.
“Granddaughter-in-law? ...And, you’re saying Benedict is alive?”
"Grandpa, he's alive and well and here now. Do you miss him?"
At Merlin's words, who had risen, Dr. Rugen's eyes widened, and his mouth slowly opened. His worn-out pupils seemed to dilate completely. He raised his head and stared at the ceiling, his wrinkled face etched with despair, not joy.
"No."
"Yes?"
“No way! If Benedict is alive!”
The old man's single scream filled the room.
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