The young boy stared up at the colossal metal structure. 'My real goal is to be...'
"Ouch!"
Suddenly, the boy groaned, clutching his head as a violent spike of pain pierced his temples. It felt as though buried memories were being forcefully and painfully poked with a hot iron. His hazy eyes flashed with crystal clarity as a deeper truth tried to surface.
'Wait... I am not a native of this planet. I was... transmigrated, and then—'
"Why can't I access the rest?" the boy whispered frantically under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to comprehend his true origins.
A few agonizing moments later, the pain subsided.
The boy stood up straight, his face paler than before. The brief flash of absolute clarity vanished, his eyes returning to their previous, hazy, half-numb state. He was once again stripped of his deeper identity, left only with the fragmented knowledge of his current origin and his immediate purpose.
'I have to know what happened to me!' he thought fiercely.
Creak! The colossal gate groaned heavily as its internal gears shifted, parting just enough to create a narrow passage inward. A cold, emotionless voice echoed from the other side of the threshold.
"Code Number 31. His Majesty demands your presence. Enter."
Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, the young boy stepped forward. He moved through the colossal gate with calculated care, acutely aware that a single misstep in this new environment could instantly lead to his death.
Step... Step... As he cleared the thick walls, a sight unfolded before him that left him in absolute awe.
'Marvelous!'
He stood in a grand, opulent hall that completely contradicted the filthy prison he had just left. Standing at the center of the room was a young soldier.
The man was clad in a luxurious, silky crimson cape that draped over his broad shoulders, leaving his chiseled abs and strong muscles visibly exposed. He stood armed with an ornate spear, a beautifully crafted sword hanging casually at his waist. He looked incredibly dignified, radiating an aura of absolute nobility and lethal power.
But the most intriguing, captivating—and terrifying—aspect of the man was the phenomenon occurring right behind him.
A massive, ethereal blue flame illuminated the air behind the soldier's back, flickering silently as if symbolizing a divine mandate.
'What is this?!' Sam's buried subconscious screamed. 'This familiarity...!'
Before his fractured mind could react to the blue fire, a broad-shouldered commander, heavily armored and also bearing a sword at his waist, strode respectfully toward the young, caped soldier.
"Your Majesty!" the commander announced, bowing slightly. "This boy is Code Number 31, the volunteer you selected to be the new manager!"
The young soldier didn't speak. He merely offered a brief, piercing glance at the pale boy before giving the broad-shouldered commander a dismissive nod.
"Take him away. Make him wear some tidy clothes before sending him down to my probation office."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Without another word, the young soldier turned around. His silky cape flared mindlessly in the air as he strode out through a side passage, the blue flame trailing behind him until he disappeared from sight.
The young boy was left standing in the center of the grand hall, surrounded by the broad-shouldered commander and the remaining elite guards, their hushed, judgmental murmurs reverberating endlessly through the cold air.
A heavy knock echoed through the stone corridor.
"Your Majesty, Code Number 31 is here," one of the armored guards announced.
The young boy, now dressed in a set of clean, tidy clothes, stood nervously before the heavy wooden door.
"Enter!" a voice commanded from within.
Pushing his lingering anxiety aside, the boy pushed the heavy door open and carefully stepped into the probation office.
"Your Majesty," he greeted respectfully, bowing his head.
The young, caped soldier was seated behind a massive oak desk. He lifted his gaze from the documents in front of him and fixated on the pale boy.
"You are going to be my manager. From today onward, you address me only as 'Sir'."
"Yes, Your Majes—Sir," the boy corrected himself quickly.
The soldier let out a faint chuckle. "There is no need to be so tense. Someone else will teach you the ropes."
Ring! The soldier pressed a small metallic bell on his desk.
A moment later, a sharply dressed man stepped out from a side door. "Yes, Sir?"
The soldier rose from his seat, walking past the desk to pat the boy heavily on the shoulder. "He will teach you everything from here on out. You will be working directly for me, so just follow his instructions and you won't have to worry."
"Yes, Sir," the young boy replied, puffing out his chest to look more confident.
The soldier gave a satisfied nod and exited the room, leaving the boy alone with the newcomer. The sharply dressed man stepped forward and offered a gloved hand. "I am His Majesty's head butler."
The boy shook his hand cautiously. "I'm... the new manager."
The butler gestured toward the heavy leather chair the soldier had just vacated. "Take a seat."
"In that chair?" the boy asked, surprised.
"Indeed."
Moving behind the massive desk, the boy sank into the chair and instantly grimaced. 'Why is this cushion so hard? My body is still incredibly sore from the prison.'
"Don't worry, you will adjust to the discomfort in the coming days," the butler noted without looking up, efficiently arranging a thick stack of parchment on the desk. "Reading through this contract will be your only task for today. I will return shortly to judge your decision."
Giving the boy one last stern stare, the butler turned on his heel and exited the office, locking the door behind him.
Left entirely alone, the young boy pulled the stack of papers closer. As he unfolded the complex legal documents one by one, a deep frown creased his forehead.
'Why am I able to read and perfectly understand this high-level legal terminology without my full memories?' he wondered. 'Am I subconsciously regaining them?'