I bought a brewing barrel.
The method of making alcohol was no different in this world than in the old one — you created a pleasant liquid with the help of yeast.
It was something I had often done at the temple, so the act came to me as instinctively as drawing my sword. I remembered stuffing a basket woven from branches full of fruit pulp. I remembered pouring that pulp out and washing it clean with water from the temple well. I remembered gleefully crushing the dew-beaded fruit.
When I was young, I quite liked making fruit wine.
The priests took the task very seriously, too. Thanks to that, I could still recall precisely how much alcohol was appropriate for a given amount of apples.
Honestly, it was far more fun than tending sheep or chopping firewood.
Tracing back my memories, I crushed the apples with my sword’s edge.
Then I waited for the fermentation to finish.
In the meantime, I did what needed to be done.
Even while preparations for the Recapture Battle were in full swing, patrol duties continued. By now, Kudo and I worked together quite well. We alternated meals according to each other’s tastes.
On off-days, I rested by exercising as usual.
It would have been nice if Hesh and Tom were around, but they were rolling hard outside the Core preparing for the Recapture. Shu, too, seemed unable to return yet — the messages I sent her remained unread.
So I often spent time with Ami.
She had returned from outside the Core a few days ago and was off duty until the day of the Recapture.
“Hilde, you still haven’t written your will, have you?”
We were on our way to the arcade after eating chicken galbi covered in melted cheese and taking dozens of photos at a self-studio.
Ami widened her round eyes and asked.
I blinked.
“No.”
“You’re seriously the worst trainee ever.”
Ami made a sulky face and cursed at Choi Yun.
The way her youthful brows wrinkled was so funny that I laughed.
“So it’s normal to write a will before a mission, huh.”
“Yeah. You can rewrite it whenever you want.”
“I’ll write it when we get back, then.”
I answered casually.
It didn’t surprise me. I’d written one, too, when I first joined the knights.
No matter how great our regeneration or how we didn’t age, being a Badger was still a job where you could die at any time — a perfectly reasonable formality, really.
Not that I had much to write anyway.
“Where do I put it after writing it?”
“There’s a storage place at HQ. Usually you write it by hand. Until the person dies, nobody can open it without permission.”
“Ah, I see. Let me know where to submit it later.”
“Yeah.”
Ami nodded.
Then she looked up at me — stared, actually.
Her gaze didn’t drop for quite some time, so I smiled down at her.
“What is it?”
Ami studied me intently with those big round eyes.
“Sophia’s coming back tomorrow.”
Ah.
A senior I’d never met before. But surely someone who already knew all about me.
The one who had pointed a gun at Yehyeon out of hatred.
The Recapture Battle was too major an operation for her to cause trouble there, but hearing the name of someone I couldn’t possibly feel at ease with still left a bad taste in my mouth.
I nodded, keeping my gaze steady.
“I’ll be meeting her soon, then.”
“Yeah. When Sophia’s back, we should all get together once. I’ll try to arrange the date.”
“Ah, thank you.”
I hadn’t even thought of that.
But Ami was right — we should. It would be good to see everyone’s abilities and figure out how to coordinate for the battle. I knew Ricardo’s and Ami’s fighting styles well enough, but I knew little about Carl Dow and Sophia Kalak’s.
I thought Carl was a sniper, maybe.
Either way, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ I scolded myself for not thinking of something so basic and thanked her again.
“No, no! That’s what the senior’s supposed to do!”
Adorable.
The way she straightened her back when saying “the senior” made me laugh.
Hard to believe she’s older than Ricardo every single time.
“Send me your duty schedule! I’ll compare it with the others and pick a date!”
I barely restrained the urge to ruffle her hair.
Smiling, I stepped into the arcade.
The day of the Recapture Battle drew near. The past clung to me like a sticky dream that wouldn’t fade, but brooding wouldn’t change a thing.
Do what must be done and keep life simple in the time that remains.
Thinking that, I walked toward the game machine Ami had chosen.
***
“Hey! You didn’t tell Hilde about the will, did you?!”
“Ah.”
The day of the meeting.
I had decided to write my will by hand and arrived at HQ earlier than the scheduled time. The meeting was at 7 p.m., but Ami and I planned to have an early dinner first, then write the will.
That was when Yun came back through the Portal.
He looked more exhausted than I had ever seen him.
A man returning alone from the Portal.
My mentor replied listlessly.
“Oh, right. That was a thing.”
“Are you all right?”
I never thought I’d say such words to this person.
Yet I did, because he truly looked like someone you could only ask that. Slightly disheveled hair, pale face, dark shadows under his eyes.
He looked utterly drained.
Must have been worked to the bone.
Yun brushed off his clothes.
“Too many things without intelligence.”
“I’m sorry.”
Well, I was born this way — what can you do.
Yun nodded at my reflexive apology.
“So your taste buds are gone, but your brain’s still working.”
“My taste buds are fine too.”
I answered glibly.
Still, I didn’t take my eyes off him.
For someone who usually looked like he wouldn’t bleed even if stabbed, this was uncomfortably worrying.
Yun patted Ami’s head absentmindedly and began to walk away with slow steps.
Watching him, I moved closer.
At least he didn’t look physically injured — that was something.
“Shall I drive you home?”
Yun raised an eyebrow and looked at me.
“You look extremely tired.”
“Sleepy.”
He really did.
“Hey! Go nap in the executive lounge!”
“You should. If it’s uncomfortable there, I’ll drive you home. It won’t take long.”
“Report first.”
Yun answered flatly, then stared at me.
I blinked back at those emotionless eyes.
Was that a cue to prepare the car?
“By the way, why are you here?”
Ah.
I briefly explained my schedule for the day — that the TF’s first meeting was in a few hours, that Ami and I planned to eat early and write our wills before that. It would only take a few minutes anyway, so I could still drive him home with time to spare.
Ami would be filing a TF report while I wrote mine, so it made sense for me to drive.
Yun stood expressionless for a moment before replying.
“Then I’ll ask you for a ride in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, understood. Contact me when you’re done with the report.”
“Then should we write the will before dinner?”
Ami poked her head forward, suggesting.
“Write it, drop him off, come back, eat dinner — perfect timing!”
Good idea.
Yun and I both agreed and went about our separate tasks.
***
Around six in the evening.
Ricardo Sordi entered the designated meeting room with Carl Dow. It was a glass-walled room used for briefings.
The official meeting time was seven.
The reason they came an hour early was simple: they planned to go to the cafeteria, but had left their jackets behind. Each would handle dinner on their own before meeting up.
So they casually opened the door and stepped inside.
An empty room.
It was Carl who noticed the papers spread on the table — and the blue ribbon beside them.
“Isn’t that a will?”
He pointed at the ribbon.
Ricardo, who had been glancing at his phone, lifted his head.
His eyes narrowed as he spotted what his junior was pointing at. Carl was right. That was unmistakably someone’s last will and testament.
Veteran Black Badgers reacted sharply to that peculiar blue ribbon.
It was what they wrote before missions.
After writing, a Badger would roll the document and tie it with a blue ribbon before depositing it in the storage box. Until the writer’s death, no one could untie it without consent.
Naturally, most Badgers hated the sight of the blue ribbon.
“Sophia’s gonna have a fit when she sees this~.”
Ricardo said lazily and walked toward the ribbon and paper.
Carl followed him.
“Whoever it belongs to, we should probably put it away~?”
“Yes.”
It was basic courtesy not to look at someone else’s will.
But that assumed the will wasn’t just lying there in plain sight. And they were about to meet a colleague still unable to move past her lover’s death.
One who, since that loss, had come to hate everything. One who frowned merely at the color of that same blue ribbon. Knowing that, the two men walked toward the open paper without hesitation.
Their eyes naturally dropped to it.
And then both of them froze.
The handwriting on the white page was neat.
[ Last Will and Testament ]
The testator, Hildebert Taleb, declares the following.
All assets to be donated to the Black Badgers.
I confirm the accuracy of the foregoing and affix my signature.
Below the final line was a signature.
The two men stared silently at the short statement.
Both had lived with enhanced bodies longer than they ever had with ordinary ones. They had seen many wills — those written together, those read after a comrade’s death.
Everyone wrote seriously. Many brought tears to the eyes; many ran on for several pages.
Some even filled dozens of sheets.
But a single line — that they had never seen.
Even those who were utterly alone usually wrote at least half a page.
“Huh?”
They finally lifted their eyes from the paper only when the owner of the will walked in.
“You’re already here?”
Have you eaten yet? I was planning to grab dinner with Ami, but if you haven’t, would you like to join us?
The rookie’s voice, half through the open door, was calm — as if reporting the weather.
His expression was serene.
The two Badgers didn’t answer right away. They only watched him for a while — that tranquil face darkening as Ricardo’s brows furrowed.
