Chapter 3

I chose Ashbury Kingdom as my new home, where the royal family is known to be excellent. They have not engaged in wars of aggression for generations, only defensive battles. Many merchants have immigrated, making the population diverse. One of the reasons I chose this country is that a stranger like me could live in the town without drawing much attention.

"What should I do for work?"

I was taken in by Lancôme when I was eight. My first job was at fifteen, and I worked tirelessly until I was twenty-seven.

Every month, I bought a small item and gave it to the room manager along with some money to send it to my family. Lancôme would check if there were any letters and then deliver them to the post office. There was a rule that I could not contact my family.

The thought that "my parents and sister would be happy with my support" was the pillar that supported my work. Even if I couldn't contact them, I believed I would be informed if they died. I had confirmed this many times.

"But my family was all dead."

I looked up to Lancôme like a brother and respected him as a superior. It turned out that he had hidden my family's death from me for two years.

---

A year ago.

After work, I visited my hometown for the first time in eighteen years. I wanted to see my house, or rather, my family, even from a distance. Disguised, I went near my house, only to find that the place where it once stood was now an empty lot.

Shocked, I investigated and found out that the cause was a fire. The fire had occurred two years ago.

The local officials were supposed to have contacted the noble family I worked for immediately. The noble family was supposed to have informed the organization.

Lancôme couldn't have been unaware. Other agents were informed of their parents' deaths.

(So, that's what he did.)

He must have known how much I valued my family. I had repeatedly told him over eighteen years why I worked.

After that, I continued to work as if nothing had happened. After the next payday, I gave Lancôme the usual wooden box to send to my family. Then, I tailed him after his shift. That evening, instead of going to the capital's post office with the wooden box, Lancôme went to a high-end apartment building with a guard in a uniform. I saw him on the third floor, where the curtains and windows were open to let in fresh air.

(There it is.)

I waited for him to leave. Under the cover of night, I climbed to the third floor using the second-floor terrace and protruding walls. I sneaked into a different room where the lights were off and then made my way to his room.

I used a tool to open the door and entered. In a corner of the sparsely furnished room, there were twenty-five small wooden boxes I had given him, stacked up.

My emotions almost exploded, but I quickly regained control.

I opened all the stacked boxes and retrieved every coin I had hidden inside. I also stole the silver cutlery and gold candlestick from the kitchen. I wanted it to look like a burglary. On my way back, I threw everything into a river.

(I was mistaken. He was the type of person who would climb the ranks in the organization.)

After that, I continued to work as usual.

Every month, after payday, I asked him to send gifts to my family. My life seemed unchanged, but my heart had changed. My family was gone, and I no longer trusted Lancôme.

I started gathering information about him. I found out that Lancôme was going to marry a female colleague. I decided to use this to my advantage.

"I want to marry someone like the room manager."

I had no romantic interest in Lancôme, but I gradually confided my "love" for him to other colleagues. This was to prepare for the shock of his marriage announcement, which would make it seem like I had committed suicide.

After the announcement of Lancôme's marriage to Mary, I reduced my food intake. Two months later, everyone could see that I looked haggard. When asked why, I would look sad and say, "It's nothing," and everyone would show sympathy. Only Mary, the bride, struggled to hide her triumphant expression.

Why did I go through all this trouble to leave the organization?

Because I was an excellent agent.

Among the agents of Hagel Kingdom, I had consistently been the top performer for years. It was clear that I wouldn't be allowed to quit just by saying, "I want to quit."

I had planned to work in the field until my forties and then focus on training younger agents, as Lancôme had suggested.

But now that I had lost my parents and sister, I no longer felt the need to dedicate my life to the organization. I didn't care if Lancôme approved.

Even as I prepared to disappear, I secretly hoped that Lancôme would tell me about my family's death by the morning of the day I was to leave.

"Chloe, I should have told you sooner, but actually..." I waited for him to say something. But he never told me about my family's death, even on the day I was to carry out my plan. It had been three years since my family died. There were plenty of opportunities for him to tell me.

To Lancôme, I was neither a sister nor a subordinate, but just a useful tool.

---

"Well, maybe I'll wander around the town a bit."

I put on a loose, knee-length navy skirt and an ivory white blouse, a nondescript outfit that wouldn't draw attention, and left my room.

"Have a nice day," the receptionist said as I headed for the bustling city.

The capital of Ashbury Kingdom is roughly divided into east, west, south, and north, with the royal castle at the center. The southern district, where I was, is a lively area filled with shops, markets, and offices. According to the information I had gathered, this district has the highest number of foreign-born residents.

Street vendors and restaurants sell food from various countries, and the air is filled with delicious aromas. Despite having a hearty breakfast late in the morning, my stomach was growling. I bought a baked good from a bakery and nibbled on it while sightseeing.

"Huh?"

A girl was sitting dejectedly on a bench in a corner of the square. I wondered if she was waiting for someone and watched from a distance, but no one came to her.

"What if she's taken away by a bad person?"

The girl was sitting there, looking dazed, without crying. I had a bad feeling and couldn't leave her alone, so I approached and spoke to her.

"What's wrong? Are you lost?"

"I'm not lost."

"What's your name?"

"Nonna."

"Where are Nonna's family?"

"Mom told me to wait here."

"Do you know what time that was?"

"Before the clock struck ten."

Ah... It was past two in the afternoon. She had been waiting for her mother for over four hours. Could she have been abandoned? Her skin and hair were slightly dirty, and her clothes, which looked like they were for an outing, were dirty in places.

"Are you hungry? If you want something to eat, I can buy it for you. We can eat together while waiting for your mom here."

The girl nodded, so I took her hand, helped her stand up, and led her to the area with street vendors.