Luke had been prepared with countless counterarguments in his head, fully expecting Theo to refuse. The most likely excuse would be that Luke was an outsider and therefore couldn’t participate in the interrogation.
"Sure, go ahead," Theo said.
"What... what?" Luke stammered, his train of thought derailed.
"Didn’t you hear me? I said it’s fine," Theo repeated, his tone calm.
"But why...?" Luke asked, still suspicious.
Theo raised an eyebrow, his expression laced with confusion. His face clearly read, You’re the one who asked to join—why are you questioning me now?
"I thought for sure you’d say no," Luke admitted.
"You’re not part of the military, true, but you’ve helped resolve this case. That makes you a relevant participant," Theo explained matter-of-factly.
When solving a case, anyone directly involved—whether they had the authority to act on it or knowledge pertinent to the situation—had a role to play. While Luke didn’t fit the former category, he undoubtedly fit the latter. Theo’s explanation seemed reasonable enough, but it left Luke with a nagging suspicion.
"You were planning to bring me in from the start, weren’t you?" Luke asked as they walked down the hallway. Theo shrugged nonchalantly, his expression unreadable. It felt like a silent confirmation.
Luke couldn’t shake the feeling that Theo intended to use him for the deeper investigation now that the situation had escalated so much. Even Theo’s insistence on bringing him to the branch for treatment suddenly seemed like it might’ve been part of the plan.
"For the record, bringing you here was primarily for your treatment. Don’t misunderstand," Theo said, his tone even but direct.
Luke froze, startled. Was Theo... reading his mind now? The very suspicion Luke had just been pondering silently was now being voiced aloud by Theo.
"Luke, about your arm—"
"Drop it. It’s my body. I’ll deal with it myself," Luke interrupted, waving Theo off.
Luke had never been one to rely on others. His personal philosophy was that life was something you had to navigate alone. No one could take responsibility for your life, and even if someone offered, their support would always be limited. Better to handle everything on your own from the start than to grow dependent and find yourself helpless when left alone.
Even when Luke had taken on the role of the "villain" in the military, he hadn’t felt isolated despite the disdain and criticism he received. To him, self-reliance was a form of freedom.
"Luke."
Theo’s voice brought Luke back to the present. Normally, Theo would have simply nodded and let the conversation end there. At least, the Theo Luke knew would’ve done that.
Instead, Theo grabbed Luke’s injured wrist, halting him mid-step.
"What now?" Luke asked, glancing down at Theo’s large hand. Wrapped in layers of bandages, his wrist looked almost frail in Theo’s grasp.
"I understand that responsibility lies with the one directly engaged in battle. But I’m not going to ignore your injury," Theo said firmly.
Of course. Even with his stoic demeanor, Theo had always been thoughtful and empathetic. While he could be rigid and uncompromising at times, his humanity was never in question. Unlike many nobles, he didn’t look down on others based on status or rank. Instead, he took care of those around him and understood the weight of responsibility.
It was this integrity that earned him the respect of his subordinates when he served as commander of the First Division.
"So, what are you going to do? Take responsibility for me? Sorry, Theo, but I—"
"I will," Theo interrupted.
"...What?" Luke blinked, caught completely off guard.
Luke’s eyes widened briefly at Theo’s unexpected words, but before he could react further, Theo’s grip on his wrist tightened ever so slightly, and Luke found himself leaning forward involuntarily. When he looked up, Theo’s face, which had been a good three hand spans away, was now so close it was barely one.
"I’ll take responsibility, at least for the wounds on this hand, in your life," Theo said softly.
His gaze, dark as if painted with the deepest black ink, seemed to trace every inch of Luke’s face. His steady voice, resonant yet gentle, reminded Luke of the undulating calm of waves lapping against a shore. Each word seemed to echo through Luke’s ears, spinning and spiraling in his mind, leaving him uncharacteristically dazed.
Luke was at a loss for words. He couldn’t lash out with his usual anger, accusing Theo of ignoring him. Nor could he dismiss the comment as nonsense and move on. He simply couldn’t. He felt caught, held firmly in place by Theo’s gaze and voice, unable to react or even think clearly.
"Let’s go," Theo said, finally releasing Luke’s wrist and stepping back. Without waiting, he turned and began striding down the hallway.
Luke’s eyes trailed after him as he walked away, his presence still lingering in the air.
"What’s all this talk about life... Overreacting as usual," Luke muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he lowered his head. These were the words he should’ve said earlier, but for some reason, he hadn’t been able to. Now, as Theo disappeared further down the hall, they spilled out too late. The ship had long since sailed, and Theo was already walking away.
"Why is it so damn hot in here," Luke grumbled, tugging at the collar of his robe irritably. Yet even after loosening it, the inexplicable heat coursing through his body showed no signs of subsiding.
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***
The size of the branch offices and the headquarters building, as well as the area of their grounds, were naturally different. The headquarters boasted a significantly larger compound, so much so that when branch recruits were promoted to the headquarters after accumulating achievements, they sometimes mistook it for the imperial palace. However, that was merely a matter of perspective; in reality, the branch buildings were also quite spacious, and the core facilities of the main building in the headquarters were identical in layout.
This meant that the interrogation room visible over there was no exception. The Empire's interrogation rooms appeared, both inside and out, like ordinary offices with nothing more than a table and chairs. But their purpose was far from ordinary.
These rooms were used to detain individuals involved in or directly linked to cases handled by the military, where they would be questioned to piece together the truth of the matter. They were windowless, with walls on all sides, painted entirely in black. Without lighting, the space was plunged into pitch darkness. There were no torture devices, but the sheer darkness of the room—where one couldn’t even tell day from night—was enough to instill fear and anxiety in those brought there.
The atmosphere here was quite different from the room where Luke had been questioned by Theo during the previous supply embezzlement case. This place was reserved for those with unmistakable criminal charges.
“Luke, you’re here?”
As Luke approached the interrogation room, Calon raised a hand slightly in acknowledgment.
“I’ve been briefed by the commander. You’re here as a participant in the interrogation, right?”
“That’s correct.”
Luke unconsciously rubbed the back of his head, as if reflecting on his misfortune, but immediately dropped his hand when he realized the state it was in. The faint sting in his hand left him feeling deeply irritated.
“That’s unexpected.”
“What’s so unexpected? The fact that I’m hanging around here after quitting without a word, or that I’m sticking close to Theo even though we fought like we wanted to kill each other?”
Saying it aloud only made it sound more absurd.
“If I had to pick, I’d say both.”
Calon chuckled faintly. They weren’t particularly close. Joint training sessions weren’t frequent, and even when they did meet, their exchanges were limited to casual greetings. Moreover, the occasional training wasn’t exactly designed for cheerful camaraderie.
Yet Luke felt a vague sense of guilt toward Calon. Strictly speaking, the “faceless mercenary” who had stirred up so much trouble for the branch staff, including Calon, had been none other than Luke himself. Because of this, the Calum branch had endured significant hardships.
Fortunately, it seemed Theo had smoothed things over well enough that no one suspected Luke was behind it, even now that things had escalated to this point. Still, Luke’s conscience nagged at him. Conscience was like that—it lay dormant until prodded, and once awakened, it wouldn’t stop pricking at you.
Luke placed a hand on Calon’s shoulder. The unexpected gesture caused Calon to momentarily reveal a puzzled expression through his red hair.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
Calon frowned, his expression one of genuine bewilderment, as if he had misheard.
“Just... for certain things.”
Luke couldn’t divulge the exact reason for his apology—that he had burdened Calon and the others with unnecessary work—but he still felt compelled to alleviate his guilt, even if only slightly.
At that moment, the door to the interrogation room swung open. Theo, who had been inside, stepped out and paused when he saw the two still standing near the entrance.
His gaze landed on Calon’s shoulder—or, more precisely, on the elegant, slender hand resting upon it.