After things were sorted out and clarified with, we continued to discuss other topics, mainly about the events and history in our previous life.

We also switched back to the Leotopian tongue since it’d be strange if we continued speaking an unknown language and besides that, I’m not that proficient in speaking my thoughts in English.

It is, after all, my third language.

“So, what dishes did you find the best or memorable in your previous life?” He asks.

“There’s a lot, but the best dish in the world is and always will be for me—Pizza.” I continue to ramble on, careful not to get carried away or reveal any bits of information that he could use against me.

He subtly glances at the book I brought with me—It was like the third time since we entered the hidden room and by the looks of it. His curiosity seems to be piquing up.

By now he’s wondering—What is that book supposed to be? Is it a spell book or perhaps a grimoire? Or just a plain textbook?

At least, that’s what his eyes are telling me.

I was still waiting for him to ask about it, any minute now and my plan will finally be put into action.

“Hmm…I do enjoy that but I’m a lover of pastries, like baklavas.” So, he’s a sweet tooth, kinda fitting since people of high status have quite indulgent lifestyles.

“Does pineapple belong in a pizza?” Continuing on our trivial conversation, I absentmindedly observed his face again.

“No, it does not. It’s an insult to the authenticity of such a highly cultured dish.” Amen to that! Pizza is sacred and should not be tampered with such a sweet fruit!

That actually put a smile on my face, I might actually get along with this guy if not for the fact that I still didn’t trust him, yet which is why—Anyways, I’ve been meaning to ask you. The paperback you hold, may I ask what it is about? Of course, it’s fine if you don’t want to.”

Finally, it was just as I expected.

Giving him an easygoing smile, I tapped at the book, “Oh, it’s my journal. Do you want to take a look?”

Casting my bait, I enthusiastically blurt that out.

“Are you sure? It's a bit rude and nosey to view something personal…”

Pulling the line, I waved my hand to gesture that ‘it was fine’, in an exaggerated manner.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” He still looked unsure, so I had to convince him. “Think of it as an exchange of information based on a token of trust. You revealed to me your identity in your previous life, and I trust you to share with you the opportunity to know me more.”

“Well, if you insist.” —And sinker…

I pass the so-called journal to him with an innocent looking face.

Just as he was about to touch it, he suddenly pulled back and shot a look at me.

Shit! Did he notice? I didn’t even look that suspicious…

Acting confused, I crease my brows. In turn, he stared at me long and hard then sighs.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice that something is wrong with the journal? I was wondering why’d you just give me your journal even though we aren’t that close, but I get it now.” Fuck...wait, I could maybe salvage this a bit.

“What are you talking about? How could I do such a thing? I’m just trying to repay your kindness.”

He glared at me, and by the looks of it, my plan was over.

Well, time for plan B I guess,

Placing my palm on the book, I subtly activated the lines and patterns within it. Carefully threading my mana as it permeates through the covers, the lines and symbols within the pages all lit up.

After establishing the connection, I quickly pointed my fingers at him and directed my mana at the tip, a very tiny intricate circle appeared.

He carefully looked at it whilst drawing his hands to his side.

“Sorry in advance for doing this.” I said before I activated the spell circle.

A beam of light escaped out of it, homing unto him.

What happened next was something that made my eyes blink twice.

—Swoosh

Standing there in his place, he brandished a dagger.

Huh?

Did he just block that with a dagger? I don’t feel any residue of mana…Does his dagger have anti-magic property? Then I’m actually fucked…

We looked at each other for a while, neither one of us moving a single muscle.

Then he chuckled, “Judging by your spell, it seems that you were someone from the Institution.” —!

I was on guard now, my muscles tensed, and my eyes narrowed.

In contrast to me, he looked relaxed as he set aside his dagger, then sat back down.

“Why don’t you stop with the hostility?” He speaks.

“No can do, unless of course you agree on what I’m about to say…” I retorted.

Giving me a look that says ‘what’, I continue. “In my previous life, I was a critter amongst a cackle of ruthless hyenas, vicious snakes, preying vultures and a pack of blood-thirsty wolves.”

The first ten years of my life back then was my testament to that.

“You could say that I have some trust issues.”

I still remember those harsh times.

Experiencing the dealings of the black market, from being sold as a slave to a trafficking den that disguises itself as a welfare center then becoming a runner for an illegal arms market just so I could fill my stomach with cold and mushy potatoes…

Being violent was necessary, if you don’t prove to others that you are someone who shouldn’t be messed with then you’ll be easy pickings by those ruthless hyenas.

If you’re not careful about who you're talking with then you’ll end up constricted by a vicious anaconda, being easily coerced and fooled by their lies and what not…

Show any signs of vulnerability and you’ll soon see a vulture circling above your head.

Mess with someone out of your league and then you’ll end up dead in the middle of nowhere.

I learned that the hard way.

My experiences with those kinds of people will always remind me of how shit my life was—Backstabbing and manipulating bastards, I’ve been through a lot of trouble because of that…

Even though I want to resolve this peacefully, it’s better to be vigilant and take the initiative.

My current life is something that I value the most, so I wouldn’t take the chances of it being taken away from me.

“It’s not like I don’t get your point since I too, am a person that had his trust broken apart multiple times however…” He pauses then continues, “Firing a shot at me, who has been nothing more than a hospitable host. Don’t you think you're pushing it too far?” An exasperated gaze fell upon me.

His defensive stance had loosened up, “Still I understand your actions.” His annoyed expression broke apart, now he was looking at me with sympathy and understanding.

I looked away, not knowing how to react to that.

Sympathy? I received a lot of that back when I used to beg on the streets for a short time. But empathy? It’s not something that happens to me, only the nun and that shitty professor truly understood me.

Still, his words really put things in perspective. I know that being the aggressor is not something I usually do and that my method is morally questionable at best but it’s what I have come up with…I know, I’m a terrible person.

Looking at his face, I couldn’t help but click my tongue.

No matter how I look at this situation, I’m obviously the asshole who just ruined his chance of having a foot hold in this world.

If I had someone like the crown prince as my ally then the life, I’ve always dreamt of would become a reality.

Dispelling the mana and the spell book, I slumped down against my chair and sighed.

“...I’m sorry for acting like that. Being on edge wasn’t unprecedented for me, since you have knowledge about the institution and all.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve no qualms with them anymore. But still, I’m inclined to tell you that back then, the institution…They were somewhat at odds with the sealing agency I worked at, given that an incident regarding a resurfaced forbidden knowledge was found in their grounds.”

Sealing agency? Was he part of some sectorial order? And what’s this about an Incident? Nothing happened that much back when I was…Wait, don’t tell me!

Was it because of that damned codex?!

“Can you tell me more about the incident?” He gave me a confused look, I shook my head and continued, “I was an assistant to a professor, but I had to leave because of some personal matters, and I didn’t pay that much attention from then on.” More like I didn’t have any way to get news about that place since I fled to a backwater country without any cell towers whatsoever.

“That makes a lot of sense…I’ll start from the beginning so you could get a good grasp on it.” He then pauses then continues, “A month before the season of fall and after the conclusion of the Anglophone civil war, we’ve received an order by the higher ups to retrieve a valuable possession that was stolen from them.”

Civil war? Now that he mentions it, I do remember having a conversation with the professor some time before I found the codex…

At that time, it was around the end of the first semester going into my fourth year as an assistant…

Nothing much happened other than menially dealing with disrespectful and egotistical debutants who think they’re some kind of hotshot just because of their family and history. It was a time where I had my patience and temper being tested to the max, thankfully by some stroke of luck, I managed to tone them down.

…seven years have passed by now. I wonder where that class with a silver spoon up their asses ended up. Knowing their over-the-top ambitions and over-inflated egos, I’m pretty fucking sure that they’d all become stuck-up researchers.

“It was about the size of a ledger, a very ancient article they say.” He says as he glances at the journal. “My unit was given the task to retrieve it and I was the one that took charge.”

“We investigated the location of where it was last seen and located.” I subconsciously nodded as I took it all in.

“Whoever stole the article, they were clever and cunning as they had managed to get through the tight security of the Bohemian Monastery…Is what I first thought.”

“Although I’m no genius detective, I was able to deduce that something was off.”

“Considering that it was after a time that a civil war concluded, and that the nation bordered the disputed territory. The timing was a bit too coincidental, so I had a hunch that there was an insider.”

“It didn’t take long for us to identify who it was but before she could spill her mouth, she managed to take her own life by swallowing a poison pill.”

I shifted on my seat a bit. For some reason, I was feeling a bit too invested.

“With our lead gone, we were back to square one. Fortunately, on our end, we managed to determine where the missing article was by examining the lead’s travel history. With the help of the advanced mapping and scanning technology provided by the ESF, the probable location of the stolen article leads us to Luxembourg.” That’s where the Institution is located at.

“There we managed to trace it down to the prestigious Research Institute of the European Union but since we were affiliated with the Clockwork Tower, meeting with a representative from them proved to be a time waster.” That sounds about right, the board heads weren’t that secretive about their hate and indifference against someone related to their rivals.

Even at international conventions, every time a member of the Clock Tower and Institution meet, what once a social and civilized event turns into a shit show of a dick measuring contest.

“And well after countless attempts to ask for their cooperation, we ultimately decided to ask for the council’s aid to act as a mediator for my unit to cooperate with the Institution.”

Well, of course the Institution bows down like a dog in the face of the high council of mages. They are, after all, affiliated with one another. One of the founding members of the Institution has a seat within the council.

“The operation continued on, and we were well on our tracks to retrieve the stolen article.” His eyes slowly falter, looking a bit solemn.

“…However, an encounter with an unknown organization led to us being completely massacred.”

Then a self-deprecating smile appeared on his face, “It was my mistake that killed them all…”

The thousand-yard stare says it all.

That look on his face and the weight that he carried, although it is still vague, I do have a grasp on his situation.

A team leader blaming himself for the death of his comrades…I can’t say that what he is experiencing is survivor’s guilt—No it’s much more than that.

Regret, guilt, and that heavy feeling of loss. I could sense the emptiness of his distant look; it would be a lie on my part if I didn’t empathize with him in that regard...

It seems that we have found the middle ground.