Of course, saying that the entirety of Lutetia’s streets belonged to us would be an overstatent.
Lutetia itself was Belvur’s territory, and naturally, no Imperial citizen could claim it as their own.
Nor did the streets belong to Charlotte, despite her accompanying us. While the royal capital was directly under the King’s domain, even Belvur couldn’t fully escape the winds of capitalism.
So individuals had bought parcels of this royal domain, built hos, and settled there. The streets, however, remained public spaces—open to all, including other people who weren’t part of our photo session.
In modern South Korea, people are familiar with caras and might intentionally avoid the fra or wait until the photo is taken. But in Belvur, caras were still novel. It wasn’t uncommon for a passerby to unknowingly appear in a corner of the photo without a second thought.
What was strange, though, was that the face captured in the corner of our photo was one I recognized.
"…"
And I wasn’t the only one. Alice, my roommate, knew the face as well.
“Isn’t this Damien?”
Alice imdiately voiced the na I was thinking of.
“The last ti we saw him was two years ago, but… this really does look like Damien, doesn’t it? What do you think?”
Alice waved the photo Claire had given us, her tone curious.
“I believe you’re correct.”
Damien Fangryphon.
A character the Emperor would dispatch only to the most covert and dangerous missions. In the original story, he didn’t even appear until much later.
Even then, his role wasn’t particularly significant. He served as a gatekeeper, opposing the protagonist’s party on their way to confront the Emperor.
However, his androgynous design, unlike the conventionally masculine characters dominating the story, made him a fan favorite—especially among female players.
Given the early 20th-century aesthetic, most male characters were broad-shouldered and exuded a traditional masculine vibe. Leo and Jake, for instance, didn’t have long hair like female characters. Damien, on the other hand, sported long hair that reached his back.
During battles, he wore skintight black shirts and pants. In scenes where he was in disguise, he tied his hair back, leading many to joke that the character was explicitly designed to appeal to female players.
“But why is Damien here?”
Good question.
In the original story, Damien was stationed in the Holy Nation.
Alice didn’t know where he had been dispatched, but I had that knowledge from the source material.
The Holy Nation wasn’t extrely far from Lutetia, but it wasn’t particularly close either. In fact, the distance between Lutetia and the Holy Nation was greater than the distance between Lutetia and the Imperial capital.
So, did he cross the border from the Holy Nation to co to Lutetia? Or had he been here all along?
“Was he waiting for us?”
Alice asked, and I nodded.
It wasn’t impossible. Charlotte had been planning this visit to Lutetia since sumr vacation. If soone had leaked that information, Damien might have known when we’d arrive.
But if that were the case, why reveal himself in the corner of a photograph? Even if his face was partially obscured by his coat collar, his hat, and the shadow of the cara lens, it was still distinctly Damien. Alice and I recognized him instantly.
“If he wanted to et us, wouldn’t he just approach us directly? It’s not like we’re enemies. If needed, we could easily have a conversation.”
Alice and Damien didn’t have the best relationship, but it wasn’t hostile either. They rarely interacted to begin with.
“Maybe it was a mistake? He might’ve been watching us and accidentally wandered into the cara’s fra…”
“That’s unlikely,” I said firmly.
I didn’t have much interaction with Damien myself, but I knew his personality. Soone like Damien would easily recognize a cara’s presence, understand the lens’s range, and avoid being captured unless he intended to be.
In other words…
“Perhaps he wanted to send us a ssage.”
“Through a photograph? That’s awfully roundabout.”
Indeed.
“...The only way to get an answer is to find him ourselves,” I said, standing up with the photo in hand.
How could we track Damien down based solely on a photograph?
Alice and I returned to the spot where we had taken the photo. Holding the picture, we adjusted our position until we matched the angle at which it was taken.
Looking at the photo again, illuminated by the streetlights, we noticed sothing.
The direction Damien had been facing.
In the photo, Damien appeared to walk casually, as if uninterested in us. Naturally, none of our friends suspected anything—they hadn’t t him before.
His body’s orientation in the picture was the only clue.
We turned in the direction he seed to be heading, and soon our eyes landed on a shop.
It was a shabby, run-down storefront. The windows were boarded up with planks, suggesting it hadn’t been in use for so ti. While it didn’t look abandoned, the neglected atmosphere was eerie. The broken streetlight nearby only added to its shadowy presence.
Despite all this, Alice and I instinctively knew soone was waiting for us inside.
Exchanging nods, we moved cautiously.
No one had followed us. Charlotte had dismissed the knights earlier in the day, and we’d snuck out discreetly. I had taken the lead, guiding Alice along.
After checking our surroundings multiple tis, we reached the shop and turned the doorknob.
Despite its outward appearance, the door opened effortlessly.
“Lock the door,” a low voice ca from the shop’s darkest corner as soon as we stepped inside.
“Huh?” Alice uttered in surprise.
Without hesitation, I locked the door.
A faint light flickered on, illuminating a lamp in the corner.
In its glow, we could see a large man seated in a chair, his presence exuding quiet authority.
“...Father?”
Alice’s voice was laced with disbelief.
“It’s a strange feeling, eting my daughters so far from ho. But it’s a welco one,” the Emperor said calmly, as though this eting were entirely natural.
“Why are you here?”
Alice, forgetting her usual decorum in the Emperor’s presence, raised her voice in shock.
“Lowering your voice would be wise. These thin windows and planks don’t do much to keep sound from escaping.”
At his warning, Alice snapped her mouth shut, visibly struggling to process the situation.
“You seem less surprised,” the Emperor said, shifting his gaze to .
“I wasn’t expecting this,” I admitted.
If Alice hadn’t reacted first, I might’ve blurted out, “What are you doing here?”
Behind the Emperor, standing in the shadows, was a pale man with long hair and a strikingly androgynous face—Damien. His presence was quiet yet eerie, his fair complexion and reserved deanor amplifying the unsettling atmosphere.
“So, why go through the trouble of coming all the way here?” I asked calmly, my voice steady. Alice, now regaining her composure, turned to look at her father for an explanation.
“I have my own preparations to make,” the Emperor replied. “Just as you have your own plans that you haven’t inford about.”
...Well, that was a petty response.
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