Hmm. The surprises never end, do they?

"How much longer am I going to be here?" I leaned against the rusty cell bars and asked the lone guard in charge of watching me.

"Until you're ready to be seen." The guard outside my cell replied plainly.

"Oh, I'm ready. I'm very ready," I said.

His eyes narrowed on me.

"That's just an expression. Many are being interviewed about tonight's incident. Wait your turn," he replied.

I scoffed.

"Are they all in similar cells?" I beckoned to my dismal environment. "Somehow, I don't think the others at the party are getting the same treatment."

I was down in the dungeon below the palace. It was a truly miserable place. It was cold. The floor was moldy. And the bedding needed washing.

I looked in disgust at the yellowed and browned sheets. I preferred to stand against the moldy stone wall than sit on that.

Scratch that. Those sheets need to be burned.

I stood as far from them as possible to avoid throwing up my food from earlier. Worse than anything else about this place was the smell. It was as if puke, piss, and rat feces were combined and concocted into the ultimate weapon against the nose. You could practically taste the stench.

Truth be told, I had been in equally repulsive places in my original life, if not worse. My work as a hired contractor certainly had taken me to some really revolting corners of Adovoria. But that didn't mean my disgust was any less at being in such a situation now.

“I presume they are not. Why am I being treated this way?” I asked again.

I had considered making use of my hidden trump card to just regress, but had forced myself to stay put. There was value to the remainder of this life, even if Micah was currently dead.

"You are the prime suspect in today's events, thus this is your treatment," the guard said.

"On what grounds? My brother died tonight as well!" I yelled out.

"Yes, and with his death, you are the new heir to the Frey Merchant Guild, are you not?" The guard's eyes slid over me, judging me.

I felt my fists shake. This man knew nothing about what he was talking about. The hell I had gone through being heir in my original life still made my skin crawl.

"What sort of nonsense is that?" I asked.

"It's true, isn't it?" he said.

"Why would I ever want to be heir? It's a really unpleasant position. I'd rather have my brother alive to take on that responsibility."

Clack.

The only door into the dungeon opened.

"Is this the young man from the Frey Merchant Guild?" A chipper voice sounded.

A round man with a thin mustache walked down the stone cell steps from the door. I, unfortunately, recognized him: Gavin Graves.

"Yes, this is Luca Frey." The guard noted.

"Wonderful. Would you mind leaving us to talk?" Gavin Graves asked with his tiny smile and annoyingly chipper voice.

The guard looked at me suspiciously but nodded.

Clank.

The metal door closed behind him.

"Hello Luca, I am Detective Gavin Graves. I am investigating this particular incident and have a few questions for you."

He gave a toothy smile with a rather large gap between his two front teeth.

I did not return a smile.

I remembered Gavin Graves from my original life. He was the one who had investigated the murder of my parents.

'An unfortunate accident.' That had been his conclusion then.

He was either severely incompetent or corrupt. Either way, it spelled disaster for me.

"I am happy to help answer any questions," I said. "However, I would like to contact my parents first."

It had been several hours by now. I doubted Mother would have sat still if she knew where I was. Nor Father, if the news of Micah's death reached him.

"Yes, yes." Gavin nodded and smiled. "I'll let the guards know. I’ll let you write a letter to them. However, in the interest of time, I need a few answers from you. It'll help get you out of here as well."

He pulled out a notebook and pen and brushed his thin mustache.

"Fine. What can I help answer?" I crossed my arms.

It wasn't like I had any choice. And perhaps it could help get me out of this disgusting place faster. Or at least help me form a plan for my next regression.

"Do you know anything about a locked scroll that your brother had on him?" Gavin asked.

I flinched.

That was not the sort of question I had expected. Locked scrolls were expensive magic-infused artifacts. A particular rune was needed to open one. They were usually used for sensitive information.

"My brother has many locked scrolls,” I replied. “He helps run our family business, after all. What's so special about this locked scroll, and how is it related to his death?"

"Ahem. It appears that whoever killed Micah Frey was after it. However, we do not have the rune to open it. It might have a clue as to why he and Crown Princess Evelyn were killed. Do you know where the rune might be?"

I narrowed my eyes. Did he take me for an idiot?

"I haven't the slightest clue. Talk to my parents. And let me talk to my parents as well."

Even if I knew, there was no way I'd share with him. Who knew what family secrets this scroll might contain.

Gavin sighed.

"It was a far stretch to think you might know anything. But, in any case, a deal's a deal. Here's a parchment paper. I can't let you see your parents, but I can pass on a message."

I took the paper and pen suspiciously. The prior guard had accused me of being the prime suspect in my brother’s murder, yet the head detective, Gavin Graves didn’t bother asking me any questions relating to it. In fact, I doubted that he thought I was the least bit guilty.

I can’t tell to be thankful or wary that he doesn't seem to think I had killed Micah.

However, I wasn't about to pass up the chance to contact my parents. I placed the paper against one of the stone cell walls and wrote up my letter the best I could.

To my surprise, Gavin waited patiently for me to write my letter in full. I wrote in code where I could because I presumed it would be read. Once done, I folded it and handed it over.

"You can enter now!" Gavin called over his shoulder.

Two new royal guards entered. One was a beefy man with a long scar across his jaw. The other was a tall paper-thin man that looked like he might have been pressed by two walls.

"Here, is this enough?" Gavin handed the thin man my letter.

"Hey! What's the meaning of this?" I grabbed hold of the cold cell bars and yelled out. However, the three men ignored me.

The tall thin man was inspecting my letter.

"Mmm. A few letters are missing, but I think I can manage," the thin man noted.

"Did the Frey kid know anything useful?" The beefy guard gave the first acknowledgment of my presence with a question towards Gavin.

"About as much as you'd expect from the notorious Luca Frey." Gavin rolled his eyes.

I frowned.

Notorious? Did I actually have some sort of reputation at this age?

In my original life, before Grandov recruited me into The Order, I had gained quite a name for myself in Adovoria’s underground circles. But that was only after the Frey household came to ruin, when I was in my early twenties.

"I told you as much. That kid is dumber than a bag of potatoes." The thin man gave his own input.

Aha. That type of notoriety.

It was insulting on the one hand. But I couldn't really disagree. I did many stupid things up to this point in my life.

Tsk.

"Do I really have to use those sheets over there?" The beefy guard pointed to the disgusting sheets in my cell. “This is the problem with budget cuts…”

He opened and entered my cell. He didn't seem the least bit concerned that I might attempt to run out past him. And he was right. I was too weak to even try. I counted five different ways they’d bring me down before I could make a single step out of my cell.

I grimaced, looking over at the disgusting sheets.

What a way to go.

I could already tell what these three were planning to do. The thin man would forge a suicide note. The beefy guard will hang me by the dirty bedding, and Gavin would wrap up the whole incident as being a suicide out of guilt for murdering my brother.

It was so evident that even I could tell this was the plan.

[ Skill update! ]

[ Intelligence: +1 ]

[ Intelligence: 13 ]

Huh..??

I stared at the blue screen only I could see.

Why did it suddenly go up? Why now? Was the System making fun of me? Did it feel sorry for me, perhaps?

I rubbed my temples.

No. Seriously. Why? At age 26 I had an Intelligence of 11. So why did it suddenly jump up to 12 and now 13?

"Hey, kid. I’ll be ready for you in a moment. Any last words?" The beefy guy already had the dirty bed sheets rolled up and was hanging them up on a lone hook in the ceiling. “Oh, and please don't bother struggling; it'll be less trouble for you and me both.”

Tsk.

"Listen, I won't struggle. I don't want to die painfully either. So I'll make it easy for you. I can even write the suicide note myself." I smiled at the beefy man, Gavin, and the thin man.

"However, in return, I'd like to know who ordered my brother killed," I said.

I would need to restart my life at some point, given that Micah was dead. However, that didn't mean I couldn't make the most of this remaining lifespan.

Three very different laughs sounded.

"Bwahahah!"

"Heh..heh..heh.."

"Haa!"

"Kid. We're not some storybook villains that will reveal the master plot just because you're about to die." The beefy guard grinned at me. I noticed a few of his teeth were missing.

"Right. One can never be too careful in our line of work. There might be someone listening in. Or you have some way of escape. I've noted this from the start, but you've been too calm for someone about to die." The thin man smiled and returned to forging my suicide note.

Damn it. I miscalculated and rushed it. I should have acted like ordinary people would when they're about to die.

"No, it's nothing like that! It's just that if I'm going to die, I'd like to at least know why. So I can pass peacefully," I explained.

"Kid. There's never a peaceful death. In the end, there's always a dead body," the beefy one said.

"Wait. Just tell me your names, at least." I backed into the cell wall.

The beefy guard had the bed sheet noose in one hand and was now making his way toward me

I needed something. Any piece of information that might help me once I regressed and restarted again.

"Alright, I'll tell you. I'm Bob. And that's Bob the Second," the beefy man said.

I blinked.

"Obviously, that's not our real names. But, here, I finished his suicide note," Thin Bob said.

He handed Gavin the parchment paper.

Gavin nodded approvingly.

"Alright… Bob. You can now take care of the young man. Ah. After I leave the room first, though, please. I have a weak constitution," Gavin said and walked out of the dungeon.

Clank.

The metal door shut behind him.

"Sorry, kid. Don't struggle. I'll make it quick," Beefy Bob said. “It’s nothing personal.”

‘Nothing personal.’ How many times have I told those words to others in my line of work as a contractor? It was ironic hearing them myself.

Ah. Damn it. These two goons were reminding me of my former, abominable self, before Grandov had found me and pulled me into the light. I never wanted to recall those dark times ever again.

"Wait, please. I'm sure there has to be a better way…." I eyed the disgusting bedsheet in his hands and my surroundings.

I can't just die like this. Is there nothing more I can learn from this?

I walked back against the cold stone cell wall, trying to buy myself extra time. I focused my eyes on inspecting every inch of the beefy man for any additional details to help identify who was behind today's incident. Unfortunately, if Beefy Bob had tattoos signifying what faction he was part of, they were hidden away.

I noted that their disguises were perfect however. They must have swiped real uniforms from actual royal guards.

My eyes glanced at their left ears and noted the small red mana stone piercings.

They even managed to get that detail right. They were either professionals, actual royal guards, or possibly even both.

I considered making a run for it as a last resort as a way to get more information, but there was nowhere to run. Beefy Bob was nearly on me. Thin Bob had his right hand on a dagger hanging from his waist. And the main door was locked, with Gavin on the other side, with no doubt many more royal guards.

And I was weak. Even worse, I didn't even have a proper weapon on me since this was the royal palace.

"You'll die regardless," Beefy Bob said. "And do I look like I'm enjoying this either? I will have to wash my hands all night to get rid of this stench."

He grabbed hold of me, and I felt the smell of the moldy noose close in.

"Wait!" I cried out as a last resort. "Let me have a final meal!"

The beefy guard scoffed but pulled back.

"Do we look like we offer catering down here?" he asked.

"Not to worry. I have some food with me." I pulled out a small container from my inner pocket.

The two Bobs scrunched up their noses.

"You brought food to a royal ball? Who does that?" Beefy Bob laughed. "Is the fancy royal food not good enough for you?"

I ignored their laughter and pulled open the container to reveal several bright red strawberries inside. Unfortunately they were bruised, and their sweet fragrance mixed poorly with the stench of the cell. However, their appearance and even taste wasn’t why I had brought them with me.

"Strawberries?" Thin Bob blinked. “In Adovoria?”

"Fresh strawberries even?" Beefy Bob exclaimed. "Well, I understand why you wanted to have your last meal. Fine, we're not monsters. You can eat your berries. Just be quick about it."

"Would you like some?" I offered them.

I hoped on the off chance that perhaps I wasn't the only one who had a deadly reaction to strawberries. And this was the perfect opportunity to test out my theory.

"Nah. We don't eat or drink on the job. Never know what might be poisoned," Beffy Bob said.

The thin man nodded in agreement.

Tsk.

There goes that idea.

I tossed the berries in my mouth. Their sweet-tart flavor filled my mouth.

Oh well, I needed to restart at some point anyhow. And death by strawberries seemed preferable to death by a moldy bedsheet.

[ Warning. You have been poisoned. ]

The familiar blue screen appeared.

[ Your health is dropping at 70 points per second. 230/300 HP remaining. ]

My tongue tingled and quickly enlarged as it had the last time I ate strawberries. I tried to remain calm while my head spun and my throat closed up.

[ Your health is dropping at 70 points per second. 160/300 HP remaining. ]

Cough. Cough.

My eyes blurred with tears.

"Hey, you alright?" Beefy Bob asked.

What a ridiculous question from the man who had intended to strangle me to death.

[ Your health is dropping at 70 points per second. 90/300 HP remaining. ]

I grinned at him as my body dropped down against the wall, unable to remain standing upright.

[ Your health is dropping at 70 points per second. 20/300 HP remaining. ]

"Hey–!"

My vision blurred along with my hearing.

[ You have died. ]

[ Reset in progress. ]

[ Beginning Round 6. ]