The food arrived in less than a few minutes.

“Here you are! Enjoy!”

With that cheerful cry, Anna served us a bowl of some lumpy stir-fried concoction, no different from what everyone else was eating. It resembled no other food in the world. Its faint oily sheen was the only silent testimony that it had been fried.

The captain stared silently at the bowl. Familiar with this reaction, Anna laughed heartily and spoke.

“Doesn't look like much, does it? But that's the kind of place this is. Canned beans are all we have to fill our stomachs, and when you eat nothing but that awful stuff, don't you sometimes feel like cutting out your tongue? That's when people come here, bringing a can of beans and one other ingredient to go with it.”

Anna ladled out some soup and set it before us as well. This equally unidentifiable soup gave off a complicated assortment of aromas. The number of ingredients in it had to be in the double digits, at least. That such a bewildering smell could whet the appetite was surely due entirely to Anna's skill.

“Then I gather it all up and fry or boil it together to make something new. You could call it a sort of exchange of labor. People help each other out, and together we make a new flavor that isn't just canned beans. It's a hodgepodge stir-fry, so it looks like this, but it tastes quite good. Don't worry, just...”

“Slurp. Ah!”

But the captain was among the world's most experienced consumers of canned beans. The food's appearance wasn't keeping her from eating. Her attention was already focused entirely on the bowl in front of her. Drool dripped from her slightly parted lips.

“So it wasn't that you didn't want to eat? Then why are you just staring at... Oh.”

Only then did Anna realize the captain had no utensils. She rummaged through a cupboard for spares.

“The rule is to bring your own utensils. You can hammer out empty cans to make passable bowls, but spoons and forks are harder to make that way.”

“A rule, you say?”

Reacting to the word “rule,” the captain vehemently declined.

“If that is the rule, I will go out and procure my own.”

“But I keep one or two spares for people who come here without knowing the rule. Here, take this.”

“But rules are rules, are they not?”

“And my personal rule is to provide utensils to first-time visitors. My arm hurts, so take it already. After all that cooking just now, it feels ready to fall off.”

Startled, the captain hastily accepted it. Anna smiled kindly, gazing warmly at the flustered captain.

“You're a good girl.”

At this unexpected praise, the captain clutched her spoon and sank into thought.

'I am not. I am putting off my mission. Not only am I hesitating, unable to make a decision, but I am breaking the rules little by little. And... if I am to fulfill my mission, I must...'

Even these tangled thoughts soon vanished before the primal human appetite. The captain let their lingering traces slip out in a single word.

“... Negative.”

With considerable difficulty, her spoon made its way toward the stir-fry. After several moments of hesitation, she finally gave in and spooned some into her mouth. The instant it touched her tongue, her expression smoothed out as though someone had pulled it taut.

'... This is exceedingly delicious! This flavor appears nowhere among the ninety-nine Military State specialty recipes!'

They say even shoes taste good fried. How much better, then, would canned beans taste, when they were edible to begin with?

Besides, appearances aside, Anna had once been exposed to all manner of cuisine. Making subtle adjustments to the flavor was easy for her. No, rather, it would have been impossible for anyone else.

Anyway.

“Anna. Where's my spoon?”

“This isn't your first time here, so why are you asking for utensils? If you haven't got any, stuff your face with your hands.”

“Tch. Everyone's so hard on me.”

I supposed I'd have to use my own spoon. I'd hoped to avoid getting it out because washing it was a bother. I took my personal spoon from my bag and began shoveling in stir-fry. Seeing that I'd had a spoon for myself all along, Anna gave me an icy look.

“So you made sure you had your own, at least. What has that girl been eating with until now?”

“A slightly bent can lid.”

“You let her eat like that while you alone had a spoon? What a nasty little rascal you are.”

“Aw, you don't have to flatter me.”

“Your sheer shamelessness is impressive...”

Anna sighed and quietly watched the captain wolf down her food. She must have been starving; the bottom of her bowl was already showing. Anna scooped some stir-fry off the griddle to give her another helping.

“There's something rather pitiful about her. Still, I'm glad she seems to trust you and follow your lead. You must have treated her fairly well.”

“Cough! Cough!”

Oh, wait. That went down the wrong way. As I coughed, Anna's gaze turned colder still.

“Surely you haven't been teasing a girl like her? I trust you have that much sense.”

“Ahem, hem. Of course. I've helped her in all sorts of ways to keep her healthy.”

That wasn't a lie. Even if I'd knowingly risked the consequences, the captain had gotten to stretch thanks to me. Didn't that mean whatever health she'd managed to maintain was all thanks to me?

“Are you sure you helped her? Not toyed with her?”

“Ahaha.”

But this was the communications officers' fault. No, the Military State's fault. Tell someone she's a captain, and they'll picture her living in luxury, drinking beer with ice floating in it. Who would imagine she spent all her time shut away in a little room, handling communications?

Anna's gaze grew even more suspicious. I'd get indigestion if I kept eating like this, so I took something I'd hidden from my bag to divert her attention.

“Oh, Anna. Here. I meant to give you this first, but I forgot.”

“What is it?”

“What do you think? The rule is to bring an ingredient for the stir-fry or stew when you come here.”

“Why bring that up now...”

What I discreetly offered her was something I'd pilfered from the Regressor's spices. Anna examined it with a frown, then startled and swiftly tucked it into her clothes. Recognizing its value, she lowered her voice.

“... Sprinkled gold dust. How did you get this?”

“A distinguished visitor from far away left it for me.”

“What on earth have you been up to in the short time I haven't seen you...?”

After a brief moment's deliberation, Anna shook her head.

“No. It's too expensive. Especially for the people here to eat.”

“Who said anything about eating gold dust? Sell it, take a reasonable commission, and give me the rest.”

Anna had once been a maid of considerable renown even in the kingdom. The knightly nobles, whose personal strength was both military might and political power, were always gathering trustworthy retainers. Competent, loyal retainers were precious talents that even a fortune could not buy.

Anna had served a powerful knightly noble, handling both poison-tasting and cooking. She had set all that aside to cook for everyone now, but she was one of the few who understood this spice's value.

With the Military State keeping a tight grip on the country and setting steep prices on luxuries, it would take someone like Anna to sell it at full price to someone who could afford it.

After much deliberation, Anna spoke.

“I'll take just ten percent. Is that all right?”

“Ten percent? Honestly. You're so small-time. How will you ever keep the kids fed at that rate?”

“... You have a natural talent for infuriating people. Fine, I'll take less, and you can have the rest. Consider it payment for looking after that girl.”

Just then, another order came from behind her. Turning toward it, Anna pushed a bowl heaped with stir-fry in front of the captain.

“Still, you always did pick up unfortunate children here and there. I trust you. So take good care of her.”

“Don't worry. I'll give her a thorough tour of the Military State's back alleys.”

After filling our stomachs, we walked the streets, exchanging greetings with people who recognized me. Having lived in the back alleys for quite some time, I was friendly with people from all walks of life, and my acquaintances treated me without reserve.

The captain had watched suspiciously at first, but as more and more people greeted me, her suspicion turned to bafflement.

'Impossible. How could someone like him be so well regarded?'

Before questioning my popularity, why not question your preconceptions? Why were you so certain nobody would like me?

Before we knew it, it was seven. A little early, perhaps, but we needed rest after our long journey. I led the captain to my home.

Now, at last, it was time for the inspection I'd been putting off. What state would my home be in after my absence?

“My heart's starting to pound like crazy. Even a child about to open a present wouldn't be this excited.”

“Did you not say you were taking me to your home? Why would your heart be pounding?”

“Oh, you don't know. It's something you hear all the time in the back alleys.”

A familiar two-story house in District 15-5. It wasn't a particularly tall building, but a design flaw had prevented anyone from adding more floors to the old structure. As a result, its quality of life was vastly better, and my home was inside. I continued explaining as we climbed the stairs.

“They say people who get arrested by mistake... Ahem. Unjustly arrested and sent away for labor—even apostates who don't believe in any god—clasp their hands and pray before entering their homes when they get back. They pray nobody robbed the place while they were gone.”

The third room down the right-hand corridor on the second floor. My little nest, left vacant for the past several months.

“In this paradise for petty criminals, an empty home is basically a treasure chest you can visit when you're bored to pick up anything worth money. Whatever remains in an empty home is the Military State's conscience. An empty home is a conscience box, you might say.”

And this conscience box in the Military State's back alleys...

There was no need to check. The door stood wide open.

“The Military State's conscience has been stolen clean away. Well, I was gone for months. No way it would be intact.”

The Military State did not recover stolen property for you.

That didn't mean it neglected public order. If a thief was caught in the act, they usually got saddled with the blame for other things stolen before then as well. Theft wasn't something you undertook lightly. You had to risk your life for every penny you stole.

That did not apply, however, to homes left empty because their occupants had been dragged off to a labor camp. There was nobody to report the crime.

“Wow, just like a brand-new home. In that there's nothing in it.”

My home was both a mess and spotless at the same time. Apart from a few pieces of furniture too large to carry off, everything had disappeared.

Bastards. They'd really cleaned me out.

“It doesn't look like we can stay here tonight.”

As I muttered at the sorry remains of the room, the captain tilted her head and asked,

“...? Did I mishear you? What would be difficult?”

“Huh?”

“I believe we could manage quite adequately with a single blanket. I will go out and purchase one.”

Stay? Here? How? It was barely better than sleeping on the street.

'It is larger than the Windowless Room I lived in. That was unavoidable given the nature of my work, but still, this place has... a window. That alone is enough for me.'

Please, stop suddenly turning your life into a tragedy every now and then. You made it impossible to say anything out of sheer pity. Without the title of Military State captain, she was simply someone in need.

I'd thought I was a merciless swindler, a coldhearted magician who toyed with people's minds. Apparently not.

For greater than one who reads hearts is one who moves them...

Sighing, I walked over to one wall of the disordered room.

“There's no need to buy one.”

I fiddled with the alarm clock on the wall. Once to the left, six times to the right, then twice to the left again. Something engaged with a click, and the latch released.

I pushed the wall, and the false panel that had looked like concrete slowly revolved. A concealed space opened up, revealing my real home.

“This is my actual home.”

“?! One person was allocated two residences? That is not merely illegal, it is administratively impossible!”

“But rooms that aren't registered as residences do exist. A design flaw left this building with an extra room that wasn't supposed to be here.”

Fortunately, this was the land of petty criminals. They might steal from an empty room whose owner was gone, but they wouldn't dare tear a home apart. The Military State didn't track down minor theft, but it pursued damage to buildings and property with blazing zeal.

Unauthorized alterations? Well, those weren't a crime if you didn't get caught.

Beyond the door was a room whose armchair and lamp stood out. The air was cold after its long vacancy, but the moment I lit the lamp, bright light and cozy warmth enveloped the room.

It wasn't spacious, but it was more than enough for one person. Several books lined a low bookcase, and the lamp in the center of the room was a rare, high-end piece. Rugs and blankets lay neatly arranged, softly welcoming their owner home after a long absence.

In short, it was a room of a luxury seldom seen in the Military State.

'It is better than my Windowless Room...! Even allowing for that, it looks better than my quarters at headquarters! And I am a Level 3 captain! Th-this is unfair! This is extravagance!'

The captain seemed to agree.

“This is extravagance! I question the wealth you have amassed!”

“Jealous?”

“Jeal—! I am not! I am a soldier of the Military State! I am merely! Raising questions about these possessions, which appear to have been acquired illicitly!”

“Your evidence?”

“I-I have not found any yet...! But there must be something wrong here!”

I knew it.

But human kindness and material wealth had tempted officials since ancient times. I decided to start by softening the captain up. With heat, quite literally.

“Um, I'm sorry, but you smell so bad it's hard to talk face-to-face. Why don't you wash up first?”

“A smell? I detect nothing...”

“That's because it's your own smell. Hurry up and wash.”

I thrust a towel and soap into her arms and pushed her toward the bathroom. She sniffed herself dubiously.

Not long after entering, she screamed.

“Emergency! Emergency!”

“What now?”

“The water is hot! I suspect a fire!”

Did this captain even know what a hot bath was? I sighed and called inside.

“You won't die. Think of it as ascetic training. Fill the tub, get in, and wash.”

“Fill the tub with hot water?! Are you planning to boil me?”

“I was planning to soften you up, but now I see that was pointless. I wash with hot water too, Bee. Give it a try.”

Apparently encouraged by the knowledge that I did it too, she began splashing water inside the bathroom. Then came a sigh.

“Haaahhh.”

It was the captain's exclamation as she washed herself in hot water for the first time in her life.

“It's hot, hot. But...”

“Not bad, right?”

“... Affirmatiiive...”

Her languid voice trailed on and on.

This wasn't how an ordinary Military State citizen lived, but the captain had been living worse than most. Surely she deserved a chance like this.

The water stopped running. She lowered herself into the tub full of warm water.

'... I must fulfill my duty, but now I am no longer certain.'

What she'd experienced today was everyday life for the citizens of District 15, but for her it had been overwhelmingly stimulating. All that attention and kindness was utterly unfamiliar to a communications officer who had spent so long confined.

'He seems well regarded. Surely many would grieve if he died. In contrast, I... have only the few communications officers from my intake. In that case, would it not be better for me to disappear? Even without me, another communications officer could simply fill my place...'

Just you wait, Military State. I didn't know how you'd made your communications officers this way, but I would thoroughly corrupt her before handing her back.

'... But this feels strange. As though my flesh is cooking, my body loosening...'

Uh, wait. No, right? Surely not?

'... I want to fall asleep... like this... and never wake up...'

“Um, Captain Bee?”

'Zzz...'

She's asleep! The crazy captain is asleep!

“Bee! Wake up!”

“...”

“Was your first hot bath really that overwhelming?! I said wake up!”

“...”

“WEE-OOO-OOO-OOO!”

“...”

“You woke me up like that, so why won't it work on you?!”

Damn it, this was bad. I couldn't hear a single thought. She really must have fallen asleep. She wasn't dead, was she?

No choice. I kicked open the bathroom door and rushed in. Amid the thick steam filling the tub, the captain lay fast asleep, comfortably submerged in the water. Bubbles rose around her face.

“Argh, you idiot!”

I hauled her limp body out of the tub. Resting her against the edge, I crouched in front of her, pulled her arms over my shoulders, and lifted her onto my back. Soft skin pressed against me. A scent like damp blades of grass washed over me from behind.

Ah, damn it. Not hearing her thoughts was dangerous. Pure thoughts. Pure thoughts.

“... Hehe. Piggy... back...”

Thank you. That cleared every stray thought right out of my head.

I quickly laid her on the bed, fumbled for her wrist, and attached the nightclothes packet I'd readied. Alchemical thread took shape over skin pale from lack of sunlight, soon becoming nightclothes that wrapped her snugly. The captain slept on, dead to the world, her innocent face utterly devoid of alarm.

With a deep sigh, I pulled the blanket up to her chest.

“Good grief, you're a handful. It's like raising a little sister.”

Whew. Anyway, now that I'd put her to bed...

Time to go take care of my own business.