Pale blue daylight—like ink diluted to transparency—struggled to seep through the heavy canvas seams of the military tent at Scott Outpost in New Eridu.
Fine dust motes hung in the air, dancing silently in a few slanting beams of light. Inside the tent, tactical maps, stacks of documents, and the cold silhouettes of metal instruments hovered dimly in the gloom.
Belle stood in the middle of the tent with an unmistakably uncombed head of dark-blue short hair, a few strands sticking up rebelliously. Her dark-green eyes were still full of sleep that hadn't completely faded—like a thin layer of fog.
She looked a bit awkward in place, and the shirt she wore—printed with a huge white "亓才孑"—was glaringly conspicuous in the low light.
Opposite her, Captain Roland of the Defense Force stood like an iron-cast statue. Backlit by the weak dawn, the lines of his face were carved harshly by shadow.
"…In front of you," Roland's voice was low and slow, carrying a weight that brooked no argument as it broke the silence of dawn, "a runaway truck is barreling forward. Not far away, on the road ahead, ten undisciplined people are jaywalking through a red light. And on the other side, one law-abiding person is standing at the curb where they should be."
His sharp gaze locked onto Belle as if pinning her in place. "Now… the truck is closing fast. If you could influence its direction, what would you choose?"
The tent fell quiet but for the faint footsteps of early-rising soldiers outside and the soft hum of equipment.
Belle unconsciously wound her fingers around the strap of the camera hanging on her body, her knuckles whitening. She lowered her head and thought for a moment, her brows knitting; when she looked up again, her eyes held uncertainty.
"Uh… I guess I'd protect the law-abiding person."
Unexpectedly, Roland didn't scold her right away. He only looked at her more deeply, his eyes unreadable in shadow.
"Why?"
Belle drew a breath. Air mixed with canvas, machine oil, and chilly morning dew filled her lungs.
"On one hand… you can't compare the value of human lives, so I was torn at first, but…"
She paused, a complicated emotion flashing in her dark-green pupils.
"If someone honest—someone who follows the rules—dies because of this, while the ones who broke the rules survive… I'd feel like… it wasn't fair."
She watched the man's face—creases tightening in the dim light like bark on an old tree—and her heart clenched. Her voice weakened.
"Um… did I say something wrong?"
"Wrong!!!"
A roar like thunder exploded inside the tent, making the canvas seem to shudder.
Captain Roland's eyes went wide with fury. His hulking frame radiated pressure.
"And not just wrong—completely wrong!!!"
He stepped forward hard, his voice snapping like steel.
"You still have another option."
"Use your own body to meet it—throw yourself into the path of the truck and stop it for everyone!"
"…Um," Belle staggered half a step back from the sudden outburst, clutching her camera to her chest. Her small voice carried disbelief.
"Setting aside the 'turning into a cookie' problem… can a person even stop a truck?"
"What? You think I'm joking, Miss Belle?!" Roland flung out an arm, the gesture sharp enough to split the dimness.
"Then you came to the wrong place!"
His voice boomed, each word hammering into the pale dawn.
"Lei should've already told you about the commission, but I'm going to introduce it again—from the beginning!"
"Listen well! The Shiyu Defense Campaign is my scheduled purge operation in the Shiyu sector of Hollow Zero! This suppresses Ether activity and prevents abnormal expansion!"
His gaze burned as if piercing through the tent, reaching toward that dangerous dreamlike expanse beyond the city.
"In other words—put your body at the very front line. Kill the monsters in the Hollow. And for every citizen of New Eridu…"
"…you take the impact of that runaway truck!"
"Hold on! Captain Roland!" Belle couldn't help raising her voice—urgent, and a little incredulous. "That's way too extreme! What if you can't hold it back?!"
"No more talk." Roland's voice was absolute. His eyes swept over Belle with a weight of scrutiny and trust.
"You and Doctor Chiya are close, and you have Lei's endorsement. That means you're already among the very top tier of independent investigators."
"Even if you can't stop the truck, you can at least use your body to slow it down."
His tone eased slightly, but the firmness didn't.
"Don't worry. You won't be alone. If anyone is going in first, it'll be us Defense Force at the front. And besides… this time, we also have a very reliable helper."
"Uh… I've already met them," Belle said quietly, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the cold metal shell of her camera. The light in the tent seemed to brighten a little; a faint gold had begun to stain the clouds beyond.
She fell silent for a few seconds, then raised her dark-green eyes—pure confusion, seeking an answer—and looked at the mountain-like man in the shadows.
"But sir… I still have one question."
"Ask," Roland said, pulling back some of his anger and waiting.
Belle inhaled. The chill clarity of morning air seemed to wake her a little more.
"About that question just now…"
"Did you ever ask Chiya what he would choose?"
"..."
In an instant, an uncanny silence swallowed the tent. The thunderous momentum from moments ago seemed to be vacuumed away.
Captain Roland's tall figure froze in the growing light like a solitary, mute peak. All expression vanished from his hardened face, leaving only something deep and unspeakably complicated.
Time stretched. Outside the tent, the sounds of the camp waking—footsteps, shouted commands, the low growl of engines—grew clearer, leaking faintly through canvas.
Even when Soukaku's light, lively figure lifted the tent flap and let in a colder gust of morning wind—along with the smell of canteen food—Roland still didn't answer.
His gaze seemed to pierce through the canvas roof, fixed on something far away and unreachable.
Then, Lei—who had been buried in a stack of "Withering Disease" materials—lifted her head.
The mechanical arm behind her continued working in precise silence, turning yellowed pages. But her eyes drifted without focus, as if looking beyond the tent, beyond the outpost, toward a distant place that existed only in memory or ideals.
Her voice wasn't loud, yet it cut cleanly through the silence with strange force.
"He said… he would save everyone."
"The rule-following one. The rule-breakers."
"And even the driver."
Lei's eyes remained unfocused, as though reciting a creed carved into her heart.
"The rule-following person shouldn't be killed by the truck."
"The rule-breakers might be rushing to visit a friend on the verge of death."
"And the driver… might be supporting a whole family alone."
"…None of them deserves to die."
"From the best perspective, every one of them has… a reason to live."
"…That's a very naïve idea," Belle murmured reflexively. There was no mockery in her tone—only a kind of dazed wonder, lit by the light of an ideal.
"Yes," Lei said. Her gaze finally lowered slightly, but the depth didn't fade. The corner of her mouth bent into a faint, bitter curve.
"We all know that in a place like New Eridu, that kind of naïve thinking is doomed to fail."
"The gravity of reality is too heavy… any thought that tries to soar will be slammed to the ground."
"Chiya… he's only chasing an impractical dream."
"Lei…" Belle opened her mouth, as if she wanted to defend that naivety—to shout for that dream.
"We all know," Captain Roland's voice cut in—low, rough, like it was squeezed from the cracks of stone. There was the fatigue of long years in it, and yet somewhere within, a fire that refused to go out.
He finally pulled his eyes back from the void and set them—slowly, solemnly—on Belle and Lei.
In those weathered eyes, emotions churned: helplessness, heaviness, clear-eyed recognition of reality.
But in the deepest place, a small, stubborn light still burned.
"But…"
His voice was soft, yet it rang in the tent like a morning bell, every word soaked in something complicated.
"A dream that naïve… an idealist's ambition like that…"
He paused a long time, as if he needed to gather strength for the next line.
Outside, the sun finally tore itself free of the horizon. The first pure spear of gold pierced the tent seams—lighting the dust in the air, and also illuminating the indescribable complexity in Roland's eyes.
"…It really is," he finally said, almost like a sigh, reverent in its weight, "hard not to… want to follow."
That beam of morning light—like Chiya's distant-looking ideal—cut through the haze of reality, leaving a brief yet dazzling trace inside the grim outpost tent.
"So that's it… your ideal is to become a partner of justice…"
Cool morning sunlight filtered through the spotless glass of the Heal clinic's windows, casting slanted patches of light across the floor.
The air carried the clean bite of disinfectant, mixed with a faint, lingering sweetness of grain—like leftover aroma from an energy bar.
On the sofa in the corner of the consultation room, Jane Doe reclined comfortably into soft cushions. Her distinctive teal eyes held a playful glint as she looked down at the boy resting his head on her thigh—
Chiya.
Her long fingers moved with an almost instinctive familiarity, gently combing through Chiya's soft hair.
Just a moment ago, Chiya had spoken—stubborn in a childlike way—about that ideal of "saving everyone," a shining dream that didn't belong in the cruel reality of New Eridu.
"What?" Chiya asked. "Is it funny?"
"No, of course not," Jane said. "It's just… I thought your ideal was to obtain the Lion Ring's power someday and transform into Giant Mountain Super Power Tyrant."
"You—?! How do you know that?!"
"Chiya," Jane said lazily, smiling, "I know you better than you do."
Her voice was soft, like feathers brushing the heart. The hand stroking his head paused as she shifted slightly, lifting her wrist and giving it a small shake. Her pretty brows knit—almost imperceptibly—relieving the ache in her elbow from holding the same posture too long.
But the pause lasted only an instant.
That black-gloved hand dropped back into place, covering the fluffy crown of his head again—as though it were her exclusive territory.
"I already told you," Chiya immediately grumbled. His pale cheeks flushed pink, whether from heat or something else.
He tried twisting his neck, attempting to shake off the hand that seemed to hold some kind of spell—making him uncomfortable yet inexplicably attached. He braced his arms, trying to sit up out of this overly intimate—and "humiliating"—position.
"If you don't change positions for a long time, your hand's circulation will suffer sooner or later. And you still don't believe me." He tried to keep his voice calm, like a doctor should, but his puffed cheeks and flickering eyes betrayed his embarrassment.
But rebellion was futile before absolute force.
"Ah~" A teasing chuckle sounded—light, and utterly unquestionable.
Chiya didn't even catch Jane's movement. He only felt an irresistible, gentle pressure on his shoulder.
The next second, he was pressed firmly back into place, the back of his head sinking again into warmth that carried body temperature and a faint vanilla scent.
Jane leaned down. Her beautiful face, wearing a sly smile, moved closer. In her teal pupils, Chiya's flustered expression reflected like a small animal pinned by the tail.
She deliberately drew out her words—sweet to the point of cloying, coaxing yet brimming with control:
"That was last time This time I'm serious, okay Trust me, little doctor~"
As she spoke, that hand supposedly "threatened by poor circulation" only escalated.
Her fingertips stopped being satisfied with stroking his hair. With mischievous force, they began kneading the sensitive rim of his ear—then lightly scraping his soft cheek with her finger pads.
Her fluffy black rat ears trembled happily with the motion.
And behind her, that long tail—possessive without even thinking—quietly wound around Chiya's calf.
"Y-you…!" Chiya's face went completely red, like a ripe apple.
He struggled once, uselessly. Jane pinned him down with her weight and her tail—skillful, unyielding. Any trace of "doctorly dignity" evaporated, leaving only a sulking young boy being toyed with by an older, stronger "big sister."
He could only turn his face away, staring at the patches of light on the floor, forcing out a protest with absolutely no intimidation:
"Don't blame me when your hand gets sore… idiot Jane… and let go of your tail!"
"Nope~" Jane grinned like a cat—no, like a rat—that had successfully stolen cream.
She enjoyed the sight of Chiya like this: embarrassed, annoyed, and helpless—as if it were the most entertaining game in the world.
"My little partner of justice is my 'captive' now. Lie still and behave—this is treatment for your excessive idealism-induced 'naïve fatigue'~ If you keep squirming…"
She lowered her voice on purpose, the hint of danger in it oddly intimate.
"I'm an officer of the law, you know. Careful I don't arrest you for 'obstructing official duties.' Or… do you want to find out what it feels like to become a 'cookie'?"
She maliciously invoked the dangerous metaphor again, tapping his forehead lightly with a "threatening" finger.
Chiya's body stiffened instantly—clearly that whole "truck turns you into a cookie" image had left a mark.
He shot Jane an angry glare—but to her, it looked more like a kitten puffing up its fur: no lethality at all.
In the end, as if he'd completely given up, he buried his face deeper into her thigh, letting out a muffled, endlessly aggrieved mutter:
"…Fine! Do whatever you want! If I turn into a cookie… it'll be your fault!"
"Hehe. Is the tsundere Miss Chiya trying to make me confess?"
"I would never do that!"
"Mm-hmm… is that so…"
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 175)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 126)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter134)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 87
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 79
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 64
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 73
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 45
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 49
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 45
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 45
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