02.

“……!!”

Something violently wrapped around her body and yanked her back.

Erable felt it vividly, the moment her foot slipped out of the rift.

She struggled with all her might, but it was useless.

Her body was thrown to the ground.

But it didn’t matter.

Her home was still in front of her. Despite the warnings blaring in her mind that it was already too late, Erable sprinted forward.

Her gaze was fixed solely on the surface of the water, even as people stood blocking her way.

She tried to squeeze between two men, but they didn’t budge, like solid rocks. So, she attempted to go around them.

When that didn’t work, she tried crawling between their legs.

“No…!”

Muttering desperately, she reached out her hand.

Please… she begged, but the door was closing. It was closing…

‘No…’

Erable, lying face down on the ground, grabbed a handful of gravel as she continued to plead. Please… no. Please…

“What the hell kind of rat is this?”

Erable froze, startled at the sound of the voice.

“Where do you find a rat like this? Her physical abilities are practically subpar.”

“Then what is this?”

“We’ll find out soon enough. Anyway, 1,000 cp says she’s not a spy.”

“You bastard, trying to get a head start?”

“You said you were sure, idiot.”

The voices were familiar… without a doubt.

She knew them because she had spent the past few days desperately avoiding them.

Trembling, Erable raised her head.

She saw two figures in shadow.

Men with well-built physiques, dressed in black uniforms with the emblem of the 41st division on their chests.

“Let’s start with an interrogation. I have the key.”

Erable hastily tried to get up and scrambled backward, but that was a mistake. She shouldn’t have done that.

“No need for interrogation.”

The soft voice, coming from behind her, froze her in place once again.

Her body started to tremble, sensing impending doom.

Forcing herself to turn her head, she caught sight of a handsome face in her blurred vision.

It was him.

Dezeb Avganis.

With dark hair that seemed to swallow the light, a uniform cap tilted slightly on his head, a black uniform adorned with gold buttons, and eyes reflecting light like a wolf’s even in the darkness.

That beautifully terrifying face…

Dezeb Avganis.

It was him.

The moment her mind registered him, Erable’s pupils dilated in shock.

‘He… he was supposed to be away!’

Looking down at her pale face, the man smiled warmly.

“You seem to know me, right?”

At his words, all the remaining color drained from Erable’s face.

“The, the Marquis of Avganis…”

“No.”

He smiled softly again.

“If that were the case, you wouldn’t be this scared of me, would you? My reputation is quite good, you know?”

She made a mistake.

“Do we really need to interrogate, young lady? I’d rather we resolve this with a conversation. It’ll be quite hard for you if we go to the interrogation room. It’s also quite far from here.”

He was the protagonist of this novel and the most psychopathic of all the psychopaths.

The original protagonist of the novel, who had once severed the limbs of his enemies to use them as toys for his dogs, was a true psychopath of this world.

The source of the despairing ending, and a perfect moral-less figure who felt no regret.

A mass murderer responsible for the deaths of billions in the impending imperial throne struggle, now stood above her, smiling kindly.

“If you spare me, I can be of great use!”

Erable shouted.

Please, let me live!

＊ ＊ ＊

The empire, which exerted control over the entire galaxy, and the Nober Federation, composed of 14 kingdoms and 112 merchant unions.

If all the planets inhabited by intelligent life were connected, they would form the massive structure known as the Signum, the basic framework of this world.

Signum.

In this world, where magic, firearms, great spirits, mythology, and planetary sci-fi were mixed, the Signum determined social systems, laws, and class hierarchies.

Like the laws of nature, the functioning of this world may be interpreted differently across the Empire and the Federation, but the conclusion remained the same.

Everything naturally conforms from above to below.

This was a world of strict class hierarchy based on Signum levels.

A bigger issue, though, was that this primitive energy was deeply connected to instinct.

Dominance.

This was the most basic instinct of the Signum.

The aversion to insubordination here was a significant issue.

Often, this manifested in violent tendencies, as in a world where every intelligent being was born with a Signum slot, the drive for dominance was considered as primal as hunger.

For this reason, violent responses to rebellion were seen as just as natural as the act of eating.

Just as one cannot live without food, rebellion here could justify murder.

A hierarchical society harsher than the animal kingdom.

And Dezeb Avganis.

The man standing before her, though not widely known, was a living manifestation.

In this world, which dealt with contracts, possessions, and even divine incarnations, Dezeb Avganis was one of the only two such beings to ever appear in history. He stood at the pinnacle of Signum supremacy.

In short, he was the worst monster this world had ever produced.

“Hmm, in what way are you useful?”

Dezeb Avganis laughed.

It seemed like he was enjoying the situation, his laughter light and playful, but Erable knew it was all a lie. She had read hundreds of pages about this man.

She was sure of one thing.

If she wasn’t useful, he would kill her right here.

“I’m a special ability contractor!”

Erable dropped to her knees, shouting.

Her posture showed no hint of resistance. She was ready to offer her liver and guts if that’s what it took.

At the mention of a special ability, the smile on the man’s face faded slightly. That was a good sign. It was an unintentional signal that her words might hold some truth.

As expected. Special abilities were rare even in this world of supernatural powers.

After all, there are few people in any world willing to risk their lives for such madness!

“Are you really a Federation agent?”

He looked down at her with a steady gaze. Erable hastily shook her head.

“No!”

“So, a special ability contractor sneaks into a restricted area of the imperial palace? Sounds like nonsense to me.”

“It’s a pure transport-type spirit! I have no other abilities!”

“Transport?”

She was almost there. If things went well, she might not be killed today.

Erable, her body stiff with fear, focused on that sliver of hope.

“Yes, a weak, transportation-type subspace ability!”

She replied quickly, like a new recruit eager to prove herself.

It was a subtle appeal that she could be useful in her position.

Her life was on the line, and she was desperate.

She had chosen the transport-type great spirit Miro when deciding her main Signum slot, all based on a single line she remembered from the original novel.

“41st Division suffers from chronic supply issues.”

It was a trivial detail.

So trivial that she didn’t even know why she had remembered it, as it wasn’t a major plot point in the original story.

But somehow, she remembered, and on the off chance she might get caught by them someday, she had planned to use this as her lifeline.

And Erable’s life was usually plagued by bad luck…

“How much support can it provide?”

Dezeb Avganis asked in a polite tone.

His demeanor sent a shiver down her spine.

The man was extremely beautiful, and his mannerisms were perfectly ideal, like something out of a painting, but…

Erable knew all too well, in excruciating detail, that this man had serious personality defects.

“Twenty great spirits! Each capable of supporting up to 240 tons!”

“…Can you summon them?”

Erable quickly peeled off the identification-blocking sticker she had placed on the back of her hand. Someone whistled at her quick action, but she didn’t have time to pay attention.

“S-class?”

Eleven Signum slots appeared on the back of her hand.

“Unregistered, for sure.”

“No matter how rural Vermilion is, how did they miss this?”

“She’s probably been living at low output this whole time. It’s hard to detect anything below B-output.”

That was correct. She had always been careful to never output above B-class. But now, what was the point of hiding…? Erable swallowed her fear and quickly activated her main Signum.

‘Miro.’

Twenty spirits responded to her call. The great spirit, Miro. A whale-shaped transportation spirit.

Its only function was to transport non-living things. It had no competition, so contracting with this gentle spirit had been easy.

Slowly, the massive spirits began to materialize, their forms cutting through the dark night sky. The herd of great spirits shone brightly, illuminating the forest in white. Erable didn’t worry about whether the imperial palace might notice.

If she wasn’t useful, she wouldn’t survive anyway. If she was useful, they would cover for her themselves.