“So, getting back to what we were discussing earlier…”
The teacup handed to her by Chief Ed was a simple, plain design. It seemed to reflect Ed Chief’s no-frills personality.
A floating kettle in midair poured warm tea into the cups in front of both Birkin and Ed Chief.
Birkin recognized the product—it was the Basport Kettle, launched late last year. It had become wildly popular but also notorious for being troublesome. Birkin had handed over dozens of these kettles for absorbing her mana.
Slurp.
Ed Chief took a gentle sip of the hot tea. Birkin, a little dazed, quietly followed suit.
“Let me ask you something directly, Ms. Birkin.”
“Yes?”
“The Mad Dog. You’ve met him before, haven’t you?”
Ed Chief’s sharp gaze fixed on Birkin. Unlike Chief Gendal, she possessed a different kind of leadership. Birkin found herself confessing before she realized it.
“…Yes. How did you know?”
“I heard from the Head of Item Development that the Mad Dog was looking for someone. He started looking yesterday—the same day you arrived. And I know better than anyone that you were initially assigned to Item Development before being transferred to our Service Division.”
“…I see.”
At that point, it felt stranger if Ed Chief didn’t know. Birkin, despite not having done anything wrong, lowered her head as if she had.
If the Mad Dog was in the Item Development Department, he was definitely higher in rank than her.
In corporate life, she had often found herself taking the blame for things she didn’t do—especially since she was always the underdog. Over time, she learned something important:
Don’t bother explaining things you didn’t do.
If someone said, “Birkin Redfield did it!”—even if it was complete nonsense—accepting it without argument was easier. No petty excuses, no whining. She’d prove them wrong with her performance.
And she knew this better than anyone.
“Why are you lowering your head, Ms. Birkin?”
“…Pardon?”
“You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s not like you’ve been here long enough to mess up anything yet.”
Ed Chief chuckled gently, almost reassuringly. Birkin, used to accusatory glares when situations like this arose, forgot what she was about to say.
There was something calming about Ed Chief’s quiet faith in her. Birkin began to feel that this new boss might just be someone she could open up to.
“Do you know why the Mad Dog is called that?”
“…No, I just overheard a little during lunch.”
“He never lets go once he bites. That’s why.”
…Wait, hadn’t she just heard that?
Yes—Doxen had said that exact thing earlier:
“Once he bites, he never lets go! Grrr!”
She had thought it was a joke. But apparently, it wasn’t entirely one.
Just then, Ed Chief sighed. From the start, she had come across as bold and gallant, so her heavy sigh felt oddly out of place.
“What on earth happened, Ms. Birkin? How did you end up getting bitten by that Mad Dog?”
“…He drained my mana.”
“He– he drained your mana?!”
Flustered, Ed Chief even stuttered. She put down her teacup on the saucer and listened closely.
“I met him when I was at HQ, as a customer. He suddenly asked me to fill his mana… At the time, I was in charge of claims, so it was hard to refuse. Of course, it was still my fault for giving in.”
Birkin knew that was her mistake—refusing a man’s request would’ve protected her dignity, but she didn’t.
As she awaited Ed Chief’s response, the older woman frowned and asked, voice rising:
“He asked? Did you just say he asked?”
“…Yes? Yes.”
“That Mad Dog asked you?”
Unbelievable.
Ed Chief rubbed her forehead as Birkin nodded. She looked like she had a splitting headache.
“You’ve really been bitten hard… And this is the first time he’s done it like this.”
“Chief Ed, what exactly do you mean—?”
“Birkin, listen carefully. This is advice from someone with thirty years of Tower experience.”
Covering her mouth with one hand, Ed Chief leaned in seriously. Birkin swallowed and braced for the important warning.
But she didn’t get to hear it—because the door suddenly exploded with a deafening crash.
“…He’s already here?!”
It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t a misheard sound. The thick double doors Ed Chief had firmly locked were blown apart with a resounding BOOM, reduced to shards.
Debris flew. Bits of the door’s frame dangled loosely. And through the settling dust, someone stepped forward.
A low male voice spoke:
“Smells like soap in here.”
The man had the same insane appearance as before. His brilliant golden eyes scanned the room—settling on Birkin.
More precisely, only on Birkin.
While she was stunned into silence, Ed Chief had already composed herself and spoke calmly.
“What brings you here, Mr. Liam Moore?”
“I told you.”
It smells like soap.
As he grinned—showing teeth—the predatory glint on his face contrasted absurdly with his talk of soap.
Ed Chief replied calmly… or at least pretended to be calm.
“…There’s no soap here. Maybe try the restroom?”
“No. There is.”
“I said there isn’t.”
“I said there is.”
Liam walked through the broken doors and up to Birkin, kneeling in front of her. That brought their eyes level.
“You use soap, don’t you?”
…Yes. I use the soap I bought at the market for 50 silver.
Birkin sighed softly and looked back repeatedly.
Behind her was Ed Chief’s wrecked office. She had just left it with Liam.
“Birkin, I think the two of you should talk privately for now.”
“But… I don’t have anything to say.”
“Just try for now. Then we’ll talk again, okay?”
Ed Chief had practically kicked them out, sighing heavily as she watched Liam leave.
Though she hadn’t broken the door, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Meanwhile, Liam—the very culprit—strolled along like nothing happened.
If he just kept his mouth shut, he could almost pass for normal.
Then, Liam asked without turning his head:
“Why do you keep looking back?”
“Because the door’s broken. Fixing that…”
…Would cost quite a bit.
Of course, he should be the one paying for it, but she still felt guilty—it had happened because of her. Liam raised an eyebrow and asked:
“You don’t like it?”
“What?”
“That the door’s broken. You don’t like it?”
“Who would like it?”
Momentarily forgetting the gap in their ranks, Birkin responded bluntly.
Then it happened.
Liam raised his hand behind him, and from his fingertips burst a golden light—the same color as his eyes. When the light faded…
“…You fixed it?”
The door was completely restored.
“Didn’t fix it. Reversed it.”
“What?!”
Insane. Birkin muttered before she could stop herself. And he didn’t even call it a fix—he said he reversed it.
Birkin, though mana-circle-less, had graduated near the top of the Magic Department and was confident in her theoretical knowledge. She knew what it meant to “reverse” something.
The 9th Circle.
Some called it the mark of a true archmage. And the spell Liam had just used belonged to that tier.
Even when dozens of wizards drew complex magic circles together, success rates were under 10%.
Liam did it with a flick of his hand.
“Wait… You’re the 9th Circle monst— I mean, genius?”
“I am 9th Circle.”
“Ah…”
Now she remembered. That name she’d heard but hadn’t placed—Liam Moore, the empire’s only 9th Circle archmage.
Until now, Birkin hadn’t connected the “9th Circle monster” and the “Mad Dog” as the same person. But the moment she did, she understood why no one dared cross him.
Simple reason: He’s a 9th Circle mage.
She felt suffocated. Getting involved with a celebrity was the last thing she wanted. Those in her position never ended with happy endings—just “innocent bystander caught up in a scandal.”
“Surprised?”
“…Yes. I’ve never seen a real 9th Circle archmage before.”
It was separate from not wanting to get involved—she really was surprised. A 9th Circle archmage was someone not even the imperial family could touch.
Liam blinked. His long lashes and sharp double eyelids made even that look graceful—nothing like the nickname “Mad Dog.”
…Yes, she had to admit, he was more beautiful than most women.
“Why?”
“I told you. It’s just surprising to see one in person.”
“Why is that surprising?”
He had been impossible to communicate with earlier too. Talking to a puppy might’ve been easier.
Liam added in a curious voice:
“You’re the one who did it.”
…What?
What was he talking about?
She’d seen him cast the spell—his hand, the golden glow—it had all come from him.
Birkin couldn’t even lift a feather with 1st Circle magic. Yet Liam insisted that she had cast the time-reversing spell.
Birkin snapped without thinking:
“What are you even talking about? I don’t know the first thing about—”
“You.”
He cut her off. And smiled.
When he smiled, the gold in his eyes shimmered. His smile was dangerously beautiful.
As Birkin stared, breath caught in her throat, Liam spoke:
“That power—you’re the one who gave it to me.”
