The Mad Fiend was sitting in a chair.
That alone was already an incredibly unfamiliar sight.
Normally, he preferred squatting in the corner of the room.
Whenever he got bored there, he'd gnaw away at the curtains, and they'd already gone through five sets because of him.
“Ahem, ahem.”
Oscar deliberately cleared his throat to make his presence known before taking the chair opposite him.
“Would you prefer I call you Gilliot or Mad Fiend?”
The one who had been staring only at the desk with lowered eyes slowly lifted his head.
Once their gazes met, he hesitated awkwardly for a long while before finally opening his mouth.
“......Grrr.”
What came out was the Mad Fiend's characteristic beast-like growl.
'So he still hasn't regained the memories from when he was human.'
If only he could contact Majiro, he could have asked what kind of dungeon he'd used and what condition Gilliot was in now.
As things stood, the only option was to observe the Mad Fiend himself and figure it out.
“Awoo!”
Spreading both arms wide, he enthusiastically tried to express something through gestures.
Oscar, already thoroughly accustomed to living with the Mad Fiend, spoke up.
“You're hungry?”
“Awooo!”
“...Right. Let's eat first.”
After quickly making some fried rice and grilling a steak, he set the meal in front of him.
The Mad Fiend's eyes immediately sparkled.
“You've waited a long time, haven't you? Go on, eat before it gets cold.”
Normally, he would've grabbed the food with his hands before the plate had even touched the table.
But today, he remained unusually well-behaved.
Not only that, he raised his head and stared intently at Oscar.
As if asking, 'Are you serious right now?'
“What? You don't like the menu? It's steak and fried rice—your favorites.”
Shake, shake!
The Mad Fiend vigorously shook his head.
“Arrr! Grr!”
Then he rapidly drummed both fists against the table, urging him to hand over something.
“What... what am I supposed to—... Wait, don't tell me?”
Something suddenly occurred to Oscar.
Just in case, he took out a spoon, fork, and knife and handed them over.
Only then did the Mad Fiend let out a long, satisfied howl.
Then he looked at Oscar with the face of a puppy desperately needing to poop.
“Uh... eat?”
The moment those tentative words left Oscar's mouth, the Mad Fiend immediately began eating as though he'd been waiting for permission.
He scooped up the fried rice with a spoon, and though clumsily, he cut the steak with a knife before picking it up with a fork.
Watching him, Oscar stroked his chin.
'I don't think he's recovered the memories from when he was human...'
But he was vaguely reproducing the behaviors from back then.
Wasn't this what they called procedural memory?
The sort of habits the body remembered on its own.
'I think I have a rough idea what kind of dungeon Majiro gave him.'
It was probably a dungeon where Gilli repeatedly relearned the things he'd learned as a child.
Even Majiro must have judged that completely restoring memories from that period was impossible.
'Since he couldn't restore the memories, he must've decided to engrain the behaviors from back then into his body first.'
A very Majiro-like method.
Clatter. Clatter.
The Mad Fiend's meal was as clumsy as could be.
He dropped his spoon several times, and over half the fried rice he scooped up ended up falling onto the floor.
Even so, he never let go of the utensils until the very end.
Oscar silently watched the entire scene.
A little while later, after finishing his meal, Gilliot stared blankly at the empty dishes before picking them up and standing.
He then walked into the kitchen and began fiddling with the faucet.
'Don't tell me...'
Whoosh!
The moment water began flowing from the tap, he awkwardly started washing the dishes.
Crack!
Then, after failing to control his strength, he snapped a plate cleanly in half.
With a dejected expression, he looked toward Oscar.
His eyes were filled with fear, as though he thought he was about to be scolded.
They were exactly the same eyes Gilli had looked at him with long ago after breaking a plate.
“...It's okay.”
Just as he had back then, Oscar answered gently and reached out his hand.
The Mad Fiend flinched instinctively.
Then, feeling the gentle touch resting on his head, he slowly looked up.
“You didn't hurt your hand, did you?”
His hand itself was clearly cold.
Yet somehow, it felt strangely warm.
“Grrr......”
Apparently it felt rather nice, because he showed no intention of pulling away.
So Oscar spent quite a while stroking his head afterward.
Having finished a satisfying meal, the Mad Fiend simply lay down on the bed and fell asleep.
“Heh.”
Look at him, sleeping without a care in the world.
Oscar watched the peacefully sleeping figure for quite some time before a faint smile spread across his face.
'Thank you, Majiro.'
There was still a long way to go.
But one thing was certain.
The Mad Fiend had definitely begun to change.
“I'm telling you, the judging criteria are ridiculous. How are you the MVP?”
“Because I performed better. There was nothing wrong with the judging.”
“Don't make me laugh! I refuse to accept it!”
“...Would you three stop fighting over something so stupid? What are you, elementary school kids?”
As always, the door to the Special Operations Department office opened amid a noisy argument.
Oscar gave them a casual wave.
“Welcome. You all seem energetic today too.”
“Oscar!”
“Huh? What's the occasion?”
Behind the delighted Killian and Veronica, another head popped into view.
“Oh, it really is Oscar?”
“You all saw me not that long ago. Anyway, have a seat.”
The three, still looking fascinated, sat down in their respective seats.
“That's only natural. It's been months since we've seen you in the Special Operations office.”
“Yeah, you kept abandoning us and running around by yourself.”
“Carrying out missions with just the three of us was pretty rough.”
“...Was it?”
Now that he thought about it, he did feel a little guilty.
The last time he'd officially participated in Special Operations activities had been when he'd gone to the Black Tower.
“Sorry. It's not like I was off having fun by myself. I've just been busy.”
“We know. Otherwise, reaching Level 7 would've been nothing more than a dream.”
“So you're done being busy now?”
“More or less.”
Of course, if any news related to souls came in, he'd still have to move alone immediately.
That involved the Great Emperor, making it an extremely dangerous matter.
If possible, he'd rather handle it without involving anyone else.
“First of all, congratulations on winning Mage's Night.”
Oscar lightly waved the newspaper article he'd been reading.
This year, they'd won by an overwhelming point margin compared to last year.
And the three sitting before him had been the key contributors.
'They've finally started pulling their weight.'
For a moment, he felt oddly sentimental.
How much effort had he poured into turning these screw-loose idiots into proper people?
Of course, the fact that the three of them had worked so hard themselves was equally important.
No matter how excellent the teacher, this level of growth in just one year was simply absurd.
“It would've been stranger if we hadn't won. The Yellow Tower and the Red Tower both fielded rather weak lineups.”
“True.”
With the Yellow Tower having changed Tower Masters, and the Red Tower suffering internal turmoil, it couldn't really be helped.
After all, the Level 8 mage who had represented the Red Tower had transferred to a rival Magic Tower.
'No matter how secure Kudel Redmane's position may be, there's no way people weren't talking.'
In a way, having someone you could completely purge like the Yellow Tower was actually easier.
There was nothing you could do about whispers spreading quietly behind the scenes.
Especially since Kudel had entered closed-door training, he couldn't devote much attention to outside affairs.
“Well, regardless, you all did well.”
“I won't become arrogant. If you'd been there, the MVP would've been yours anyway.”
“That's the right attitude. Keep working hard.”
Bringing that topic to a close, Oscar lightly tapped the desk with his finger.
“That's enough catching up... We have work to do.”
“Hm? Don't tell me it's a group operation?”
“...Something large enough that all of us have to participate?”
Their reactions were understandable.
The Special Operations Department's strength was completely different from just a few months ago.
One Level 7.
Three Level 6s.
Frankly, that lineup was excessive for most group operations.
Oscar nodded at their puzzled expressions.
“This is a mission personally assigned by His Majesty the Emperor.”
Their expressions instantly hardened.
Ignoring that, Oscar continued the briefing.
“Our target is to raid the area believed to be the Black Finger's main headquarters.”
“The headquarters... That won't be an easy mission.”
“Don't tell me it's just the four of us?”
The earlier confidence about whether all of them needed to participate vanished without a trace.
Even the hideout of an ordinary mafia group with some influence would have Level 6-class powerhouses lurking within.
If it was the Black Finger's headquarters, there was no way it would be any weaker.
“Two Level 7s and one Level 6 will be joining us. That makes seven people in total.”
These were the White Tower's forces that had never been revealed to the outside world.
The Mad Fiend.
Edna.
And even her dragon nephew, Seiro.
To be honest, there were others he could call.
The Violet Brigade, for one.
Or the Tesila Adventurer Party.
If he asked for help, they'd come.
'But secrecy is the lifeblood of this operation.'
It wasn't that he didn't trust them.
He simply couldn't trust every single member of those groups, so he'd eliminated them as options.
“Hah... Just seven people...?”
“How strong do you estimate the enemy's forces to be?”
“For now, we believe two Fingers are stationed there. And naturally, they'll have plenty of subordinates as well.”
Assuming the Fingers were both Level 7-class, the roles of himself and the Mad Fiend would become crucial.
Of course, he had no intention of believing their Level 7 fighters were inferior to the enemy's.
'Even in the worst-case scenario, I'm here.'
With his current mana reserves, fighting two Level 7 opponents wasn't impossible.
There might be enemies whose abilities made defeating them impossible.
But losing?
That was another matter.
More importantly, Edna and Seiro were dragons.
Once they transformed into their true forms, a few breaths alone would wipe out most enemies.
In other words, while they numbered only seven people, their firepower exceeded that of most military units.
“Our objective is to eliminate every enemy inside the headquarters. And if possible, capture the two Fingers alive so we can extract information.”
“Capture them alive... That won't be easy.”
“Don't worry. You won't be fighting them anyway.”
The three exchanged slightly complicated expressions.
Their pride was hurt.
But they also knew that openly showing it would only be childish.
Sensing this, Oscar spoke.
“If you're dissatisfied, become stronger. Once you reach that point, you can say whatever you like, and I'll listen.”
“...We're already among the best of our generation.”
It was Killian who answered Fran's mutter.
“It can't be helped. At our level, we're past the stage where people evaluate us based on our age.”
“It stings, but he's right. The enemy won't go easy on us just because we're young.”
All three were only a single step away from becoming Masters.
The days when they could be treated with leniency simply because they were newcomers were over.
Satisfied with their attitude, Oscar nodded.
“Their headquarters is an old temple in the southern region that was used as a fortress during the war. The Imperial Army withdrew from the area fifteen years ago. After taking it over, they even remodeled the underground levels for their own use.”
Oscar slid a photograph across the table.
It showed an ancient temple covered in moss, hidden deep within the dense southern jungle.
“Naturally, they've concealed the entire area with illusion magic during normal times. Even the people living in the nearby forests have no idea they exist.”
Tap. Tap.
Tapping the photograph with his finger, Oscar spoke.
“We depart three days from now at 05:00. Have every preparation completed before then.”

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