"... Nothing has been tallied yet."

Among the many people surrounding me, a man dressed as a mage whom I had never seen before spoke. He looked straight into my eyes, and there was something so transparent about his gaze that it left me with a strange feeling.

As though I were meeting his eyes as my real self, not as the Demon Knight.

"I did not ask for an exact number."

"My answer is still the same."

But that couldn't be. I half lowered my eyelids. Nothing had been tallied. His answer was still the same. The two answers I had just heard weighed heavily on my heart.

I had expected it, but they made it sink in that I really had gone on a rampage.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"Who knows? Perhaps because we weren't prepared to execute you with certainty?"

Execute me with certainty? After puzzling over what that meant, I more or less assumed they hadn't had time to prepare an execution while dealing with the aftermath.

Still, all they had to do was cut off an unconscious man's head. I wasn't sure why they hadn't touched me... Maybe they wanted to arrange a proper execution. Or my companions... my companions might have stopped them.

"How much do you remember?"

Meanwhile, the mage who had answered all my questions asked one of his own, as if it were his turn now. I kept my mouth shut for a moment, considering my answer.

"... Up to the moment I fired the flare."

"The flare, is it?"

This time, he fell silent. Blue eyes with neither whites nor pupils looked quietly down at me.

"And you knew this would happen?"

Fortunately, that lingering gaze soon withdrew. But the question that replaced it left far too much unsaid.

What was I supposed to do with a question stripped of all context...? I furrowed my brow slightly as I weighed my answer.

He had definitely asked whether I'd known this would happen. So could I take that to mean he was asking whether I'd fought knowing I would lose control? That sounded right, didn't it?

But did that question even matter now?

"If I say I knew, will I die?"

I acknowledged that I became incredibly dangerous when Fury triggered. Even without any memory of it, the traces left behind were enough to tell me how much of a threat I posed.

But had anything happened during this incident that could have triggered Fury? Had anything provoked me enough to cloud my reason?

"Or if I say I didn't know, will I live?"

And what had the situation been like back then? Had they really had enough breathing room to take someone with my abilities out of the fight just because I might be dangerous if I lost control? Could they have handled it on their own without me?

"Do not waste time on worthless questions."

I still didn't know how much damage Fury's aftermath had caused. But I believed I had made the best choice available to me at the time.

I had known the dangers of Fury, but what happened in the Great Forest had convinced me I could control it. Even up to the moment I collapsed, I had never imagined it would trigger.

So, in the end, this was an accident. An accident in which misfortune had overcome good intentions.

"Nothing can change what happened now."

Just an accident whose damage was too great to excuse with good intentions, leaving someone to take responsibility in the end.

"... So do what you must."

As that thought suddenly sank in, all the strength drained from my body. If I had to describe the sensation, it was closest to utter exhaustion.

"I will refuse nothing."

But no one could fault me for this. Even if the outcome was terrible, I really had done my best.

Truly, my very best.

* * *

"Is it safe to just leave that thing like that?"

"They must think so, or they wouldn't have left it there. At least it isn't trying to get out."

"But... what do you think, Sir Sergei?"

"What? Me? Well, I... I do think we should execute it immediately—"

Watching the soldiers gossip as they guarded the cell, Meister twisted his lips downward.

So today's guard was Sergei, all loose lips and easily swayed opinions. His eyes settled into a calm gaze with a sharp edge to it.

"Discipline's gone to shit."

"Gah!"

"... Grand Master Craftsman."

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you, Sir Sergei. Or those soldiers over there."

Recalling the time he had made Sergei's sword, Meister felt his displeasure anew.

Displeasure over the way the knight had meddled with his work at every turn, saying this person recommended this and that person recommended that.

"On a separate note... don't you think the soldiers could use a little discipline? I understand they've had a rough few days, but they're still soldiers trained to defend the city... Complaining about why they have to guard a demon, spreading rumors and sowing division among civilians is a bit much, isn't it? There must be a reason for the orders."

To make his point, he gripped the shoulder of the soldier beside Sergei and squeezed.

Even a Grand Master Craftsman had no right to mistreat a knight, just as a knight had no right to mistreat him, so he had chosen the more manageable soldier as a substitute.

The soldier who had suddenly been dragged into this went rigid, but that was hardly Meister's concern.

Pretending to massage the man's shoulder, he dug his fingers in hard. Unable to bring himself to scream, the soldier clamped his mouth shut and pleaded with his superior for help with his eyes.

"Am I wrong, Sir Knight?"

"... You are quite right, Grand Master Craftsman. I'll look into it."

But Sergei was already suffering enough himself. Ever since that day, Meister had verbally raked him over the coals every time they met.

And was it only verbal? Whenever he visited the workshop about his weapons, being pushed to the back of the queue was a given, and he was frequently overcharged. He only kept coming back because Meister's skill was unmatched and he never missed a deadline, however bitter a pill it was to swallow.

"But what brings you here...?"

"Shouldn't anyone with a brain already know...? Surely you don't think I came to admire that vacant face of yours, Sir Knight?"

Right. Of course. Sergei swallowed his tears as the Grand Master Craftsman slipped in yet another casual insult to his intelligence.

If he could go back in time, he would never have gotten so full of himself. The same old regret seized him once again.

"Then you've come to see the criminal...?"

"How strange. Was there a criminal here...? I just came to see my customer."

"Pardon? Why a cus—?"

But Sergei didn't know that even if he hadn't made that mistake back then, his lack of tact and intelligence would have earned him Meister's dislike eventually.

"Isn't it strange? We all have the same thing perched on our necks, yet somehow they vary this much in performance... Never mind if you can't fucking understand. Just move."

"... Well, you can't approach without—"

"Well, now... I had no idea you were such a stickler for formal procedure, Sir Sergei. I'll have to bear that in mind whenever I take your commissions."

"... Without permission, but I'm sure we needn't insist on that for you, Grand Master Craftsman."

Meister frowned at the knight, who had wasted over a minute of his time only to back down in the end.

He was already exhausted from spending the past week sacrificing sleep to make supplies, and this had only made him more irritated. He was soooo grateful.

"Honestly. All brawn and no brains."

Still, it was a relief that even an idiot like that could be flexible.

He thought of Dietrich and Franz, who were easier to talk to but far too devoted to their principles, and was grateful neither was on duty today. With them, he really would have had to seek the Lord's permission.

CLANG.

At any rate, all that commotion ought to have earned a reaction, yet there was still no sign of one from the person inside the cell.

He struck the bars.

Only then did the man inside turn his head slightly. Even that was no more than a glance before he turned back.

"Why did you agree?"

But as long as he was listening, that was enough. Meister sat down against the bars and asked his question.

"You really will die at this rate."

The blunt words came straight from the frustration in his heart.

"They might actually execute you."

He had never felt this way except when he found himself at a loss after hitting a wall in his research. Displeased, Meister rummaged inside his clothes.

But although he found what he wanted—a cigarette—he couldn't smoke it. There was nothing to light it with here.

"Refuse."

He let out a deep sigh at that. His frustration doubled.

"You haven't killed anyone. No, perhaps not no one... but far fewer than you've saved."

CLANK.

His head came to rest against the bars.

"I'm not saying this out of sympathy. It's an objective statement."

Of course, he wasn't optimistic enough to believe that no one had been caught and killed by an attack that erased entire buildings. Even if people had already evacuated, someone might have been left behind.

But he didn't think there could have been many. Not after considering the streets he had walked with that damned green-haired man.

For a civilian left behind, surviving those relentless demons and the flowing lava would have been nearly impossible. There was a good chance that even the few remaining people had all been dead already.

"You saved people. Far more people. Perhaps everyone who survived here."

And what had this man done in comparison?

Even if it had been the menace inside him rather than the man himself, that didn't erase the fact that he had eliminated the most dangerous demon.

The same went for the Mermen's nest reportedly built on the coast at the time.

If the adventurer's testimony that the Mermen had been trying to nest there was correct, it too would have become a formidable threat in the future. And it was this knight who had blown it away before that could happen.

Killing the turtle that had stopped at the coast, driving away the demons that had flown about terrorizing people—all of it!

"The same goes for the future. Your power could help more people. It might need a little control, but still. So why are you already trying to give up?"

And none of it was a coincidence. The fact that the Lord and the other humans hadn't died at the very end proved that.

Ultimately, when all the testimony and circumstances were put together, the reason even this many people in Bemurhen had survived was the Demon Knight's effort.

So there was no reason for him to die. Nor did he need to die merely because he was a potential threat.

After being saved by him, none of them had the right to hold the danger he posed against him.

He was allowed to live.

"So..."

"Uncontrolled power is worse than no power at all."

At least, that was Meister's opinion. Someone else disagreed.

"Well, is it really? We know how strong a Great Demon is now. We've also learned that the Hero can't handle every crisis alone. In those circumstances, is it really right to simply execute someone who can take on a Great Demon single-handedly?"

Meister searched through his past as he argued his case in a cracked voice.

["Boss will never listen to anyone asking him to live. He's already consumed by revenge, by the need to kill every last demon. He's emotional enough as it is. An emotional appeal won't get through to him at all."]

The words of the green-haired man who had sought him out before he came here briefly crossed his mind.

["But... with a solid justification and rational arguments, things might be different. That's why I came to you. I'm... I'm too stupid to think of anything to say."]

He had wanted to stay by the knight's side until the end, but after painfully realizing that there was nothing he could do, he had asked Meister to go in his stead.

"You might not know this, but the acid Mermen spit corrodes iron and burns people. Meanwhile, the alkaline bombs I developed dissolve the skin itself. Both are fucking poison to humans."

Remembering that request, he forced the words out of his dry throat.

"But mix the two, and you get a substance that's just like water, one that does no harm to its surroundings. The poisons don't combine into something even more poisonous. They neutralize each other and become harmless. Just like you using your dangerous power to wreck those even more dangerous demon bastards."

Would this work? He didn't know. But it was certainly the only argument he could offer.

"So, damn it, if you're going to die just because your power is dangerous, think about controlling it instead. You're humanity's... the second card humanity has been dealt."

Even he thought it was a rather shitty argument, one that didn't treat a person as a person and considered only efficiency and rationality.

Meister vigorously tousled his own hair. ["This is a sacrifice for everyone's sake."] To think he would find himself making an argument so similar to the words he hated most. It left a foul taste.

"A coin was tossed twice, and it came up heads both times."

Whether his argument had worked or not, the man who had seemed ready to refuse all conversation answered once more.

His dry voice sounded like that of someone profoundly tired.

"Then do you believe it will come up heads the next time as well?"

The content of his reply, however, was hardly pleasing. Did he think Meister was stupid enough to fall for the fallacy he had inadvertently constructed?

"Do I look stupid enough to fall for the gambler's fallacy? I know the odds are fifty-fifty."

Blind faith in chance wasn't why he was urging the knight to refuse execution. A little sympathy and a little empathy had set him thinking, and after a week of sustained consideration, he had concluded that it was possible.

"But these aren't independent events like coin tosses. The previous round's outcome affects the next."

After all, fighting poison with poison was only advantageous when everything fell into place. But was everyone in the world a gambler chasing nothing but gains? No. To persuade them, he also needed a sound justification.

"That bet in particular—isn't it enough to serve as a variable?"

And he had come here to make his proposal because he had that justification ready. If he hadn't found one, he wouldn't have blindly insisted that the knight live out of sympathy alone.

"I did wonder whether the demon was just saying what we wanted to hear because it needed time to replenish its power. But now that you're awake, the bet was probably real."

Of course, if there was one small problem, it was that this justification wasn't yet watertight... But that might be resolved with the Demon Knight's cooperation.

"In that case, can't we use it again next time?"

If the Demon Knight concluded that the bet could indeed be used to control the demon, then the others could put their heads together from there.

"... What are you talking about?"

"Or was this the last bet you could make? Are there other restrictions?"

Until he came here, Meister had been confident. As long as he could learn how the bets were established and what conditions shaped them, he could devise endless ways to exploit them.

But if this had been the final bet, or if forming one required something... that would be a problem. Meister frowned at the worst-case scenario he had considered but hoped wouldn't come to pass.

"That would make persuading them a little difficult..."

In truth, Meister himself believed the Demon Knight had no reason to die, even without all these damned benefits and justifications. Of course he didn't. How could anyone owe a man their life and then ask him to die because he was dangerous?

But those who had stopped thinking out of fear were a little different.

They were so endlessly frustrating that he sometimes wanted to crack their heads open with a hammer... But he couldn't very well smash the heads of ninety percent of the survivors. Even Meister had that much patience.

"Tsk. Why do I have to rack my brains to persuade idiots who won't listen to reason? Isn't it obvious this is the right thing to do?"

Yes, just that much.

His hand clenched as he thought of people losing out on efficiency, productivity, and morality alike because of a useless emotion called fear.

Maybe fists and hammers really were the answer at times like these. It was a mild temptation.

"... Anyway, are you sure the bet isn't an option?"

Still, he had to restrain himself. Shaking off the temptation once more, he returned to the subject at hand.

"... I don't understand what you're saying. What bet are you talking about?"

But the Demon Knight's response was a question, as though he understood even less than Meister did.

Meister furrowed his brow.

Something was wrong.

The same chill he felt when he added the wrong reagent during his research crept up his spine.

Is It a Problem If the Protagonist Is Obsessed with Staying in Character? (Serial)

Author │ Haeinseol

Publisher │ Kim Juhyeong

Publishing Company │ Jplus Media Co., Ltd.

Marketing │ Han Jaehyeok

Address │ Suite 1101, 11, Digital-ro 33-gil, Guro-gu, Seoul (Guro-dong, Ace Techno Tower 8, 11th Floor)

Email │ [email protected]

Website │ http://blog.naver.com/jayplemedia1

ⓒ Haeinseol 2022

※ This work is published by Jplus Media Co., Ltd. under an agreement with the copyright holder. No part of its contents may be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and the author.

Violations may result in criminal and civil liability.