Considering the enemy possessed a spatial teleportation Teigu, General Budo remained glued to the Emperor's side. As for Lancer, he was put back on duty, overseeing perimeter security around the governor's mansion.
The primary reason he didn't return to the inner guard was simple—he couldn't. After the intense battle earlier, his trusted lance was now a shattered heap of metal scraps.
As an Imperial soldier, Lancer's combat losses were naturally compensated by the Empire. But his weapon was too unique—the folding mechanism that granted its portability was absurdly complex to produce, making mass production nearly impossible. Consequently, no one else had bothered learning its design.
Thus, Lancer returned to what he did best: hunting.
Although his previous [Red Crab Lance] had been crafted using materials from Daimyo Hermitaur in the Monster Hunter world, the [Lance Crafting Manual] he owned wasn't limited to Monster Hunter materials alone.
BOOM!
With a thunderous crash, the corpse of a hill-sized Danger Beast hit the ground heavily, courtesy of Lancer's efforts.
Just as it landed, a wave of excited voices burst out nearby as a group of children in simple clothing rushed forward.
"Waaah! Jack's back~!"
Hearing their cheers, Jack—who had stood proudly beside the slain beast with folded arms, looking as cool as possible—shivered involuntarily. He cast a pleading, despairing glance at Lancer, who stood shirtless beside him. Unfortunately, his companion cruelly betrayed him, offering only a helpless shrug as if to say, "You're on your own."
"Jack! Let me touch your paws!"
"Jack! Can I pet your tail?"
"Jack! Belly! Belly!"
Jack quickly fell victim to the army of little boys and girls, collapsing helplessly beneath them. As despair filled his furry face, he turned to find Aru, similarly pinned down nearby.
"Meow…" (You too, huh…?)
Though Lancer couldn't understand Palico speech, Jack's weary meow resonated with a profound sense of melancholy.
"Meoow~" (You'll get used to it~) Aru replied nonchalantly.
"Meow, meooow!!" (Aru, you disgrace! You're not worthy of being a Fighter Palico!)
"Meow~?" (Heh, weren't you happily munching the dried fish those kids brought yesterday?)
"..." (…!)
Watching Jack and Aru lying helplessly on the ground, Lancer couldn't suppress a smile. He'd long suspected Jack had a hidden soft side, and clearly, he was right. At first, Jack would immediately flee whenever children approached, but seeing their disappointed faces had eventually led him to "accidentally" tumble from a tree into their grasp. Now, he'd completely surrendered, not even pretending to resist anymore. It made Lancer chuckle—but damn, he was jealous…
Even he had only managed to touch Jack's paw pads…
"Mr. Lancer, you and Jack returned quite early today!"
Lancer turned in mild surprise at the gentle voice behind him.
"Mr. Run? You're watching over the kids today?"
"Yes, since she has some business to handle today," Run explained gently, gazing fondly at Jack and Aru playing with the children. But he quickly shook off his reverie—his job today was supervising the kids, not getting lost in fantasies.
"Oh, by the way, Mr. Lancer, have you finished collecting those materials you mentioned before?"
"Yeah, I've pretty much got everything. Also, I heard there's some crazy clown attacking kids over in the neighboring country lately. Be careful and keep an eye out, alright?"
Run sighed softly, not because he thought Lancer was cursing him—he knew well enough when someone was genuinely concerned. But hearing Lancer's repeated warnings nearly every day was becoming tiresome.
Seeing Run's resigned expression, Lancer found himself at a loss. What could he possibly say? It's not like he could bluntly tell him, "Hey, maybe in the next few years, that psycho will actually show up here and kill all the kids you care about."
Leaving aside that he lacked any evidence, saying something so grim out of nowhere would undoubtedly ruin their friendship forever.
Lancer had never believed himself strong enough to change everything. Right now, he was far too weak—even assassinating Honest felt impossible. Regardless of whether he could physically kill the man, the consequences of doing so terrified him. Honest wasn't the Prime Minister yet, but he was undoubtedly one of the Empire's most powerful bureaucrats. Killing him would instantly mark Lancer as a nationwide fugitive, hunted relentlessly. Budo knew his strength intimately—he'd end up facing a squad composed entirely of elite Teigu wielders.
He couldn't handle Honest yet, but regarding Run, he at least wanted to do something within his limited power. Seeing the children's pure, innocent smiles made even his usually tense heart relax.
...
Though Lancer's current lifestyle might seem relaxed, the assassination attempt on the Emperor had plunged the entire Empire into a state of paranoia. The Imperial Guard stationed in the Capital practically moved to wartime readiness, and several noble territories near the attack site immediately fell under intense scrutiny.
Despite the Empire's vigilance, however, the Imperial Guard failed to uncover any leads about the mastermind.
As for the true mastermind—
"Mr. Honest, is this your idea of an airtight plan?"
Dr. Stylish felt like he was on the verge of madness. When the Imperial Guard had knocked on his door earlier, he'd nearly wet himself in terror. Fortunately, they had merely asked him to confirm the identity of a corpse.
Confirm? What confirmation was needed? That man who resembled Lancer was clearly one of his own Imperial Arms-enhanced creations!
But could he admit that? Not a chance. Doing so would be suicide. His Teigu wasn't meant for direct combat; its true strength lay in precision scientific manipulations. If the Imperial Guard sensed anything suspicious, he'd likely meet his end in some filthy alleyway, utterly forgotten.
"Calm down, Dr. Stylish," Honest replied calmly. "Everyone with direct knowledge of our operation is either dead or safely escaped. They'll find nothing substantial linking back to us. Besides, haven't I handed you our biggest loose end already? Just make up a plausible story for those Imperial Guardsmen—you might even send them on a wild goose chase."
Compared to Dr. Stylish's panic, Honest remained remarkably composed. Contrary to his crude exterior, Honest was exceptionally cautious, always planning contingencies for every scenario. Ideally, the mission would've succeeded—but even failing, it could never be traced back to him. No one would suspect someone who appeared entirely uninvolved, after all.
---
T/N: change Al to Aru easier to read