"As for observation, let's forget it. It's normal for young people to have a few little secrets; we don't have the right to demand he write everything in a diary for us to read..."
After a pause, the middle-aged man continued, "As for duty reassignnts, you can discuss that among yourselves. However, it would be best to consider his personal developnt wishes. Didn't Personnel ask him to fill out a form?"
"Uh..."
The secretary was silent for a long ti, his expression like he'd eaten shit. "He did," he admitted.
"Hmm." The middle-aged man nonchalantly picked up his teacup. "What did he fill in?"
Under everyone's focused gaze, the secretary picked up the form, his voice numb as he read, "Developnt aspirations: study hard, hit the books... and then get into the Vienna Music University, COUGH COUGH, to beco a Cellist useful to Current Circumstances."
"..."
The middle-aged man's shoulders trembled. He held his breath, forced down the tea in his mouth, and looked up in confusion. "He said... a Cellist?"
"Yes, a Cellist."
The secretary repeated, "Get into the University of Vienna and beco a Cellist useful to Current Circumstances."
"Go to Vienna?"
"Yes." The secretary nodded.
"To be… a Cellist?" The middle-aged man wore a 'you've got to be fucking kidding ' expression and even mid playing a stringed instrunt. "This one?"
"That's a violin," soone nearby corrected. "A Cello is held embraced when played."
At that mont, everyone in the conference room suddenly felt a dreamlike sense of unreality.
This was undoubtedly the first S-level Military Officer in the Astronomical Society's history to declare a future aspiration of diligently studying the Cello.
An Inspector who doesn't aspire to be a head-chopping maniac isn't a good Cellist?
Has this world beco excessively fantastical?
「. . .」
"Oh, it seems like they're having a lot of fun," Raven remarked softly as she observed the scene not far away.
At this mont, on the Endless Sea, beyond the Group Star, half a train carriage drifted lonely at sea after detaching from the main body. Its interior glowed warmly.
It was incredible that such a large, broken half-carriage could still float on the Sea.
In the very center of the carriage, within a two-ter radius, there wasn't a single trace of damage.
It was like a miracle, as if blessed by the God of Luck.
The terrible turmoil and explosion seed to have inflicted no damage here whatsoever. Even when a recent blast flung the carriage into the Sea, the entire process was remarkably stable and gentle. Not a single drop of steaming tea had spilled from the cup.
The remnants of the carriage conveniently blocked the incoming sea breeze, thus preserving a comfortable temperature within. Even the nearby newspaper rack remained dry, untouched by the surging seawater.
Sitting beside the table, one couldn't help but feel a sense of tiless peace.
The man in the grey suit sat opposite her, nibbling on overly sweet pastries. He frowned at their richness. Too much honey and sugar, he thought. It's practically inedible.
Putting down the biscuit, he wiped his mouth and drained the last of his tea.
He sighed softly.
Raven looked over, curious, and asked, "Are you leaving?"
"Yes, I have fulfilled my duty."
The Man in Grey fumbled in his pocket and placed a small bag on the table. "Give this to him. He'll probably need it..."
Inside a small, clear plastic bag was a white, bone-like object, about the size of the top joint of a little finger.
It looked like a piece of chicken bone.
"Remnants of Sinister?" Raven exclaid in surprise. "Was this plucked from Rotten Dream specifically for him? It seems you got along well with my Contractor."
"It was nothing much, please don't mind it."
The Man in Grey waved his hand, embarrassed.
He rose from the rickety chair, took his coat and hat from the broken clothes rack, and finally, picked up his briefcase from the floor where water was beginning to seep through. He nodded to Raven in farewell.
"Still going to work?" Raven asked. "Give it up. It's pointless."
"But the work is still there, isn't it?" The Man in Grey shook his head, a helpless look on his face. "Soone has to do it, otherwise it will just keep piling up."
"That's why you're seen as a harbinger of doom, an overworked corporate drone burning himself out," Raven comnted disapprovingly. "When will this aningless work ever end?"
"Until it's all done, I suppose?" the Man in Grey chuckled softly, his pale face resolute. "I believe that one day, this world will no longer need a harbinger of disaster like . But until then, I have to clean up the ss left by the Chairman—after all, isn't that what an assistant does?"
"Suit yourself." Raven shook her head and sighed. "Goodbye."
"No." The Man in Grey smiled sheepishly and waved. "Actually, I'd rather hope this is goodbye for good."
His figure quietly dissolved into the darkness.
Soon after, the remaining carriage began to tilt, slowly sinking with the waves into the Sea, along with the distant, burning wreckage of the Group Star.
The black Flying Bird soared into the sky.
On her head, a small, exquisite Crown—the authority of a Ruler—flashed for an instant before quickly vanishing.
With the fall of the Rotten Dream Queen, the new Dream World Ruler spread her wings to the wind. Humming joyfully, she celebrated her bountiful harvest and vanished beyond the horizon.
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