Chapter 2 : Prison Meeting (Part 2)

It took a while—maybe around thirty minutes, or maybe more. Hard to tell since I didn't have a watch with me, okay?

Finally, Captain Emilia arrived at the prison, accompanied by a few soldiers. She was clad in her silver-plated chainmail armor, a red cloak draped over her shoulders. Her pink hair was neatly tied in a ponytail, giving her a sharp, disciplined look.

In her hand, she held a lance—her personal weapon and clear favorite.

She stopped in front of our cells, her gaze sharp and commanding.

"Sir Hilbert, for what reason have you called me?"

Hilbert looked at her firmly.

"Emilia, I need your assistance with an important and particular matter."

Emilia narrowed her eyes.

"If this is about getting you out of the prison cell, then forgive me, but I can't do that. You're a traitor, Hilbert. Frankly, you should have been executed by now. The only reason you're still breathing is because the Queen is too busy indulging in gladiator fights."

Hilbert shook his head.

"No, it's not that. I need your help to prevent the assassination of the Queen."

Silence.

Then—gasps.

Everyone except Hilbert and me reacted with pure shock. And why wouldn't they? We had just dropped a bomb on them.

"What?! Where did you hear this from? I thought all our spies were killed!" Emilia exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

"It's not from any of my sources," Hilbert said calmly. "But from him."

He pointed straight at me.

"Huh? You?" Emilia narrowed her eyes as she focused on me. Then, after a moment, recognition flashed across her face.

"I remember you," she muttered. She handed her lance to one of the soldiers before crossing her arms, now fully focused on me.

"Of course, you remember me," I said, crossing my arms. "I'm that unfortunate guy you unjustly punched and threw into this horrible cell."

Emilia ignored my remark and instead turned to Hilbert.

"You trust the words of this stranger? A man with such strange clothing?"

"I do," Hilbert said without hesitation. "He's not only the one who knows that I was framed, but he also knows the identities of the rebels, their hideouts, and much more."

Emilia turned to me, her expression skeptical.

"And why should I trust your words?"

I met her gaze without flinching.

"Then how about this? My head as proof," I said. "If I'm lying, then execute me. Cut my head off on the spot, right in front of everyone."

"No, that won't do. That's not sufficient enough."

Seriously? Why didn't that line work? Didn't all those television shows use this exact line? The character says it, and boom—the other party suddenly believes them!

Guess real life—or rather, this world—wasn't so simple.

"Alright then," I said, sighing. "Time to bring out the big guns."

I looked her straight in the eyes. "How about I tell you something about your life? I know a lot. So if I say something that only you would know… would that be enough to make you believe me?"

"Oh? And what exactly can you tell me?" Emilia asked, stepping closer.

She walked up to my cell, her left hand grasping the cold iron bars.

"Come closer," I said. "Give me your ear, then."

She hesitated for a moment before leaning in, allowing me to whisper directly into her ear.

"When you were five years old," I murmured, my voice low, "you killed your childhood friend… and then dumped his body in a furnace because he said he wouldn't marry you."

The moment those words left my lips, her entire body froze.

Her eyes went wide with shock as she took a step back, staring at me as if I were some kind of ghost.

"How do you know about that?"

"No time for explanations," I said firmly. "I hope this is enough proof for you."

Emilia narrowed her eyes, then placed a hand on her chin, thinking deeply. After a moment, she turned back to Hilbert.

"Fine," she finally said. "I trust his words."

"That's great!" Hilbert clenched his fist, a spark of hope flashing in his eyes.

Emilia then turned back to me, her expression serious.

"Tell me—how, where, and when will this assassination take place?"

I took a deep breath and dove deep into my memory, trying to recall the details of this side story. I had played this game about two years ago, so some details were blurry… but I had to get this right.

"It will happen tomorrow night," I said slowly. "During the celebration of the Queen's 28th birthday. When the ballroom is lively—when everyone is dancing—that's when it happens."

I met her gaze and continued, "At least 25 of the Queen's personal guards will be rebels in disguise. The moment she's distracted, they'll strike and kill her."

"I see..." Emilia muttered, deep in thought.

"You should also inform the Queen about this matter," I added.

"Yes, that's a good idea," she agreed.

With that, Emilia turned and left, taking the soldiers with her.

Silence filled the prison once again. It lingered for a while until Hilbert finally broke it.

"So… what exactly did you tell Emilia?"

"Nothing," I said casually. "Just a little inconvenience, that's all."

"I see..." he replied, though his curiosity was obvious.

Reaching into the pocket of my jumper, I pulled out a chocolate bar. I unwrapped it, broke it in half, and held out a piece.

"Here, catch this!"

I tossed the chocolate bar toward Hilbert. He barely managed to catch it, fumbling slightly before securing it in his hands.

His brows furrowed as he examined it with clear confusion. Understandable—chocolate bars didn't exist in this world. Chocolate itself didn't even exist here.

"What… is this?" he asked, turning it over in his hands.

"It's a chocolate bar," I said simply.

"Chocolate bar…" he repeated, still skeptical.

"You can eat it," I assured him. "It's sweet and tasty."

I took a bite of my own piece. Seeing me eat it without issue, Hilbert hesitated for only a second before bringing the bar to his mouth and taking a small bite.

"It's incredible! Where did you get this thing?" Hilbert asked, quickly devouring the rest of his chocolate bar.

"From my homeland," I replied. "It's actually pretty common there. Both the rich and the poor can afford and enjoy it. There are a lot of different varieties, though some are quite expensive, so only the rich can afford those..."

I finished my own chocolate bar as well.

"Man… your homeland must have some truly exotic items," Hilbert said, shaking his head in amazement. "If—when—we get out of here, I'd love to visit it sometime."

I paused for a moment before sighing.

"That won't be possible."

Hilbert frowned. "Why?"

"Because my homeland doesn't exist anymore. It was blown up."

That was a lie. If he ever tried to search for my homeland, he would find nothing, and that would only create suspicion. It was safer to have a cover story—one that no one could verify.

"Blown up?" Hilbert repeated, clearly confused.

"Yes," I nodded. "The entire country was wiped out by a weapon powerful enough to generate heat hotter than the sun itself."

His jaw dropped. "Impossible! How can such a weapon even exist?!"

"I know it's hard to believe, but it's the truth," I said. "There are a lot of things beyond this continent that the people here have no idea about."

Hilbert took a moment to process my words, then asked, "How big was your country?"

"It was huge—hundreds of times bigger than your kingdom. It spanned 9.8 million square kilometers."

"By the Gods!" Hilbert gasped. "Not even the Four Great Empires are that big!"

"I know, right?" I said with a small chuckle. Then, stretching my arms, I let out a tired sigh. "Anyway… I guess it's time to sleep."

I laid down, using my bag as a pillow.

"Let's hope they manage to handle this without tipping off the rebels that we know about their plan."

"Let's hope," Hilbert echoed, before settling down to sleep as well.