“I’m going to announce to the media that you got S rank, but before that, why don’t you tell your secretary colleagues first?”
“Announce to… the media?”
“Yeah, why. Worried you’ll be embarrassed if it drops during re-measurement?”
Evil grinned slyly. Taking advantage of the gap while Cheche, lost in thought, closed his mouth, James carefully asked.
“Um, Director. Are you really going to release it to the media?”
“Of course, what kind of bullshit? It’s not even an Adapter, why would an Aura User hide this? Don’t you have a brain? Don’t you have eardrums?”
When dealing with James, he quickly returned to the original Evil.
“The repercussions will be quite severe. There will be many people who can’t accept it…”
“I really don’t understand. Why exactly? Because a refugee dares to get a high rank?”
Evil’s bright red eyes glared at James. As if he’d never smiled so softly, fierce and sharp. James felt fear at the murderous intent pressing down on his body and retreated backward.
“An S-rank Soul Aura User can emerge even from that trash country Tar. The Earth has reminded the idiot humans of a fact they briefly forgot. If they can’t accept that fact, they should leave Earth. What are they going to do about big repercussions—he was born that way. They can’t eliminate Aura either.”
“Yes, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. Quickly announce to the media…”
“If you know that, shut up and get out quickly.”
He gestured as if annoyed. The office door opened and James was driven out the door by Evil’s telekinesis. The sound of James’s footsteps running hurriedly down the corridor faded, and only Evil and Cheche remained in the office.
The refugee who, far from being happy about the S-rank news, acted like a wagtail before a dirty fake bait, had changed expressions in the meantime. First, the golden eyes colored with surprise had somewhat subsided, and the hands that had unconsciously been clenching and unclenching fists were now placed obediently on his thighs.
Evil waited for Cheche to speak first and watched him lost in thought.
His face is small, his lips are small, his hands are small, his feet are small. For a refugee, why is his skin so clean? Does this bastard use black makeup products?
While having rude thoughts that would have made anyone frown if they’d heard, that’s when Cheche spoke, saying “Director.”
After calling once, Cheche, who briefly chose his words, looked straight up at Evil.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Uh… at least you know to be grateful.”
“Then I’ll be going.”
“Why, where are you going?”
“You told me to tell the secretariat staff first.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, go tell them now and watch their reactions.”
“Yes.”
Cheche bowed to Evil with eyes that seemed to have resolved something and left the office.
Evil felt puzzled. Just moments ago he’d been uncertain, but suddenly his attitude changed. Right after he said he’d announce to the media, precisely right after mentioning Tar, the confused emotions settled.
You calmed down this quickly?
Evil looked at the wall toward the corridor with a slightly furrowed brow.
He somewhat regretted not taking a photo of Cheche’s face earlier. The dazed look with his mouth open was really cute. That guy probably had never been that surprised in his life?
Really too bad.
But it’s okay. There will be many more opportunities to surprise him in the future.
He was curious what reaction there would be when Cheche told the secretaries, who were giggling that he definitely wouldn’t be an Aura User, with his own mouth that he received an S-rank measurement. No, the secretaries’ reactions were obvious—he was curious about the change in Cheche’s emotions according to that reaction. He was also a bit looking forward to it.
Evil followed Cheche’s presence.
He’d clearly sent Cheche back to the secretariat, but Cheche stood silently in front of the secretariat door for a moment, then turned right around and went toward the end of the corridor, opening the emergency exit door.
“Look at this.”
Evil raised one corner of his mouth in disbelief and listened.
Cheche first turned the pages of a notepad, then called one of the numbers written there with his phone.
– Cheche.
Because they were on the same floor, the other person’s voice could also be heard for the first time. The man asked in a very affectionate and gentle tone.
– What’s the matter, at this hour?
“The Aura measurement results came out. I have to receive re-measurement.”
– Re-measurement?
“They say I might be S rank.”
– …….
There was no word from the other side for a moment. Cheche was the same. What broke the silence was the man on the other side, and his tone was calmer than expected.
– That fact should be kept secret. Akeo and Karon won’t leave you alone.
“No, I can’t hide it. He said he’d announce it to the media today. And…”
Cheche spoke calmly.
“I don’t want to hide it either. If I’m really an S-rank Soul User, I’ll be a great asset to us.”
‘Us.’
Evil muttered that word inside his mouth.
“After re-measurement, the rank will drop, but there’s a month left until then. For a month, I’ll be Tar’s only S-rank Soul Aura User. My every action and word will become a topic, will be in articles. We need to use this point.”
“Ha.”
Evil inadvertently made a sound in disbelief. This sound wouldn’t reach Cheche anyway.
This cunning little wagtail. While thinking he’s absolutely not S rank, he’s thinking of using the S-rank measurement result.
For an ignorant refugee.
Really quite shrewd.
He looks young and cute, but as expected, he’s a guy who rolled around on a battlefield.
– But won’t it be dangerous? Especially Karon, who’s obsessed with you, is already sharpening his knives because you escaped there…
“If I become endangered, that would be big news indeed.”
A sigh flowed from the other side of the phone.
– You have a tendency to put yourself in dangerous situations too easily…
“John is the same.”
John, John Gale.
The war correspondent whose life Cheche saved. The person corresponding to Cheche’s ‘us’ was indeed John Gale.
– I’m an Alcitian. No one can easily touch me.
“John, to them, you being an Alcitian isn’t any problem at all…”
When saying those words, an empty sigh was mixed in Cheche’s voice.
After a pause, Cheche asked.
“How is the situation on your end?”
– …….
The answer that followed was in a language unfamiliar to Evil, so he couldn’t understand.
Though he didn’t know what was said, Cheche laughed briefly. At the laughter he was hearing for the first time, Evil unconsciously put strength into the hand gripping the sofa armrest.
“John, you learned Tartarian?”
– I’m studying hard here. Still clumsy though.
“No. You speak it much better than my Alcity language.”
Intimacy was contained in Cheche’s voice. Though he’d always been indifferent, emotionless enough that no intonation could be felt even when talking about a situation where he himself would be in danger. Now in Cheche’s voice, affection flowed like a single day when the sun beats down in cold winter.
Though that emotion could never be called overflowing, the fact that Cheche, who was always indifferent, could smile like that, could produce such a light voice, and could emit such spring-sunshine-like emotion was a huge shock to Evil.
Cheche and the former journalist conversed a few words in Tartarian. Perhaps because the journalist was clumsy, it didn’t continue long. After ending the call, Cheche returned to the secretariat, and by then the secretaries had already heard the news from other departments.
“Ch-Cheche-ssi. They say you measured as an S-rank Souler?”
“Yes.”
“Congrat… ulations. Your life has reversed.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re getting re-measured, right? In a month. You’ll be nervous until then.”
“No, they said cases where the rank drops during re-measurement almost never happen.”
Cheche spoke calmly and started the assigned fax work again. Evil sensed the secretaries were being cautious. Cheche acted as if there was no chance his rank would drop. While he himself didn’t believe at all that he was an S-rank Soul User.
Evil, who had unconsciously torn the sofa armrest to shreds, irritably took out his phone. The place he called was the Endem family’s external affairs director.
– E-Evil-nim? Wh-what’s the matter…
