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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Chapter 11
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I truly couldn't understand. Just what kind of life did someone have to live to go their whole life without ever falling in love?
“…Where on earth do you live? People would flock to you just for walking down the street.”
“I don't particularly like meeting people. Similar to you. No, more than you…”
Darcy, his voice trailing off, let out a soft laugh.
“It's closer to being a slave.”
His self-deprecating tone left me speechless. It was a comparison that seemed impossible, considering his usual demeanor.
A slave. It wasn't a word to be thrown around lightly. I wondered if he was just putting himself down, but his expression, different from usual, was completely serious.
“I'm cooped up in my room, then I go out occasionally, only to be cooped up again. It's hard enough to meet people, let alone have friends or a first love.”
If he were truly a merchant, his words were an unbelievable contradiction.
Darcy couldn't have been unaware of that fact. His gaze was as deep and dark as an abyss. Even as he spoke to me, he was recalling his own past.
So I couldn't bring myself to ask why he had lied. I suspected his life as a mage hadn't been an easy one.
The fact that he made a contract with me, that he asked me to dismiss those around us, his sometimes inhuman demeanor and strange aura—it all seemed to be connected to this.
“The reason I was particularly cynical with you was probably because you reminded me of myself.”
“…”
“I'm also someone with no desire to live a proper life.”
“…”
“Though I'm about to let it all go now… that's how I've lived.”
He gave a slight smile. The corners of his lips seemed to lift with unusual effort. He was smiling, but in the shadows, his sincerity remained like an ember.
His words about letting everything go, combined with what he'd said about not seeing me for a while, fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Including the brief glimpse of sincerity he'd shown today.
‘Ah.’
Only then did I realize.
That our next meeting would be our last.
He hadn't mentioned it because there was no need to tell me he was leaving.
Since it was the last time, he was making two magic tools for me.
Because it was the last time. That's why he'd revealed a little about himself.
“Ah, right. I think we'll have to meet in the evening next time. Is that okay?”
he added, as if he'd just remembered. I stared at Darcy intently.
Right, we were just in a contractual relationship. I'd decided not to get attached, and I hadn't.
“I don't mind. But won't it be hard on you? Making two magic tools.”
“No, it's fine. I've made one of them before, and the principle behind the other magic tool you requested seems simpler than I thought.”
“You don't have to make them so quickly.”
This was unlike the usual Darcy. I didn't know him well, but I was worried he might be overworking himself.
“Then let's meet at ten.”
I tried to refuse, but Darcy didn't take back his words.
After setting a time for our next meeting, we headed to the theater room. It was to test the performance of the new magic tool with Darcy.
***
“Wow…”
When he placed the magic tool he'd brought in front of the device, the small screen expanded to fill the entire wall. The magic tool's lens seemed to act as a magnifying glass.
Looking at the screen filling the wall in the room, darkened by the drawn curtains, made me feel good.
I approached Darcy, who was half-reclining on the bed. Even lying down, his face showed no signs of unflattering puffiness. It seemed humiliation had no place in Darcy's life.
“What.”
he asked with an indifferent expression, and I gave an awkward laugh.
“Just wanted to say thank you for making such a wonderful magic tool.”
“It was my job. No need for thanks.”
After a moment of silence, Darcy finally replied. It was as if he never expected to hear such words from me. He even seemed a little flustered.
It was strange how he could take so much pride in his work yet act as if he were unaccustomed to praise.
So much so that I found myself genuinely wondering what kind of person he truly was.
Of course, I knew full well that would never happen.
I lay on the bed and started the play.
We watched Pitol's ambitious new work, a love story between a mage and a young girl.
The girl is captured by a villain, and the mage goes to rescue her—a classic tale of good versus evil.
Stories of good versus evil are common, but the key point was that the mage was portrayed as a hero. They are usually cast in a villainous light.
Surprisingly, Darcy watched the play quietly, completely focused. I thought he'd watch the beginning and then leave, claiming he was busy.
Being alone was nice, but watching something with someone like this wasn't bad either.
‘Is he enjoying it?’
I sat up in bed and looked over to where Darcy was sitting.
It was unexpected.
His figure, shrouded in darkness, was somewhat faint, but I could tell he was staring intently at the screen.
Like someone watching a play for the first time, he was completely captivated by the screen.
In this room, he didn't have to worry about the gazes of others, nor did he have any reason to hide himself.
A face devoid of its usual playfulness. The sharp line of his jaw, visible as he tilted his head up slightly. His firmly set lips. Everything about him was surreal.
He was a man who suited the silence so perfectly.
Watching an action scene where a magic-wielding mage confronted sword-wielding soldiers, Darcy muttered.
“The magic is too theatrical. Same with the sword fighting. I prefer combat that's more concise and swift.”
“…You talk as if you've fought for a long time.”
Darcy retorted with a low laugh.
“It's just your imagination.”
…I couldn't easily dismiss his words, but I remained silent.
Could the reason for our last meeting be something like a battle?
The thought suddenly struck me that the only reason someone like him wouldn't appear in the original story was death.
I didn't want Darcy to die.
But I knew nothing about him.
Telling him the contents of the original story would be of no help to Darcy.
What else could I tell him?
A powerful weapon that could save his life.
Something as powerful as magic, but unfamiliar to the people here…
“That gives me an idea.”
“What is it?”
I thought of a gun.
The gun, which had rendered swords obsolete and hastened the retirement of knights, did not exist here yet.
This was still an era where mages and knights coexisted.
It was on the cusp of rapid change, but magic tools had yet to be commercialized.
“Yeah, it's a weapon… You hold it in your hand and shoot out something like a tiny arrow at high speed. Using immense pressure.”
There was no way Darcy would know about compressed air or the shape of a pistol.
Darcy was quiet. Since I couldn't see his face, I had no idea what he was thinking.
…It should be okay to keep talking, right? I continued cautiously.
“I've only ever thought about it, so I'm not sure, but… you could use something like a bead. Like shooting a magic stone…? And it would be more convenient if you could load several at once.”
“You're talking about something like a small, portable cannon.”
I nodded. So they had cannons here. I felt embarrassed by how simplistic my explanation had been.
“It might be possible if you used magic stones… though nothing like it has ever been commercialized.”
Darcy's voice trailed off.
“I was just thinking out loud. Just a thought. It's not like I'm going to make it.”
I casually changed the subject. But my heart was pounding.
Could Darcy create a gun based on the hints I gave him?
A magic tool was a process of realizing his magic and imagination. How intricately he could make it was entirely up to him.
Could my advice really help save his life?
After that, we focused on the play in silence. But all my attention was on Darcy. When the play ended, he rose from his seat.
“Well, I should get going now.”
“Was the play okay?”
“It wasn't bad.”
What was with him saying that with such a deadpan face after watching it so intently? He really seemed unused to praise.
“That's a shame. If you'd enjoyed it, I was going to have a draft of a new script ready for you next time.”
“Are you trying to sweet-talk me now? Do as you please. I don't mind.”
At my words, Darcy lowered his eyes and gave a small smile. His eyelashes fluttered elegantly, like a butterfly's wings.
Just as he seemed about to leave, he stopped in his tracks.
“Ah, read the letter.”
“Huh?”
“You said you weren't taking a lover. My intuition is pretty good. Read it in front of me. I'll make this recorder for free if you do.”
“Huh? No, it's fine. It's not like I'm short on money.”
“Really? Then I guess I won't make it.”
“…If you put it like that, I have no choice but to open it.”
“You're the only one who has to see it. I'm curious what that guy wrote.”
…He can be so persistent when he gets fixated on something.
I sighed and took out the letter. There was nothing special inside.
“It's just him saying thank you for complimenting his acting last time and for letting him use the recorder. There's nothing like what you're imagining.”
“That's strange…”
But he still seemed unable to let it go. He looked just like someone who was jealous.
And I was someone who truly hated mind games.
I folded the letter neatly again and said calmly.
“Don't say things that confuse people, Darcy.”
“Why?”
“Anyone watching would think you're interested in me.”
His eyes widened at my words.
“Oh dear, I'm sorry my words led to such a misunderstanding.”
“I know that's not what you truly mean, which is why I'm telling you not to create misunderstandings.”
But instead of answering, he posed a question.
“So, do you wish I were? I'm pretty much your type, aren't I?”
“…How would you know that?”
“You look at me like you're mesmerized every time. I'd have to be an idiot not to notice. I know I'm handsome. So, do you wish I were interested in you?”
Darcy's eyes curved into a beautiful crescent. It was as if he were pressing me for an answer. It also seemed like he already knew what it would be.
The corners of his eyes were exceptionally lovely.
His gaze, as he looked at me, was uncharacteristically gentle.
Both Darcy and I were different from our usual selves. It was a night that felt as if we were under a spell.
I took a deep breath and sealed my lips shut.
Because if I didn't, I felt like I might actually say yes.
