Home/The Duke's Revolution Is My Responsibility/ch 4

Chapter 4: I Don't Know You

Cleo Eastwood was in no position to be picky about where he recruited talent. The revolutionary forces were scattered across the Empire in a cell structure to keep their bases hidden, constantly moving their hideouts. Even as their leader, he couldn't possibly have a perfect grasp of where every cell was situated and how they operated. After all, it was Cleo himself who had chosen this decentralized structure, so it was something he had to accept.

That was why he often took to the streets himself, both for reconnaissance and to witness the Empire's failings firsthand. He also kept an eye out for potential recruits. On particularly unlucky days, he would run into thugs in the back alleys.

"You there, well-dressed nobleman?"

Just like today. The voice from behind was dripping with mockery.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry? Heh heh."

Cleo wasn't walking hurriedly at all, but he understood that those words meant "stop right there." He slowed his pace, then came to a complete halt. Not that he was obeying their command, of course—he simply wanted to assess his opponents.

Standing still, Cleo rolled only his eyes to survey his surroundings.

One, two, three... six?

Fortunately, there were no civilians around besides these thugs. His trusted aide, Maurice Dante, was waiting nearby, and he also had an artifact that allowed for three brief exchanges of messages. He could use it to call for Maurice's help, but Cleo didn't feel like going to such lengths. Summoning the Empire's finest knight for the sake of these small-time scoundrels would humiliate them both.

So he waited patiently until they surrounded him, like a predator biding its time for the perfect moment to hunt its prey.

"You look like you're from a good family, but around here, we share the wealth, you know?"

"Share and share alike!"

The thugs snickered as they tightened their encirclement. One of them had already drawn a knife.

"Now then, our noble friend here seems to have deep pockets..."

"...Pathetic."

Cleo murmured.

"Pathetic? What did you just—"

"...Utterly pathetic, I said."

They were a ragtag bunch. Their weapons were cheap knives, and their technique was poor. Children from good families were trained in swordsmanship from a young age, so perhaps they traveled in groups to overwhelm with numbers. Unfortunately, Cleo was not your average well-bred youth. He could easily take down this rabble with his bare hands.

"Put your hands up, you bastard!"

Ah, finally they were starting to get aggressive. His lack of reaction must have been getting under their skin. Cleo raised both hands lazily.

I don't have time for this. I'll just go easy on them and—

That was when it happened.

"Hey, you hoodlums."

A young girl appeared out of nowhere.

Goggles...?

She was wearing the kind of clunky experimental goggles used by magical engineers.

Wait, now that I think about it, I can sense a faint trace of magical energy...

He hadn't been paying attention before, but now he felt a subtle flow of magic from her. She seemed to be a magic-sensitive as well.

The girl drew the thugs' attention while glancing briefly at Cleo.

She must want me to escape while she creates a distraction.

But he had absolutely no intention of missing this entertaining spectacle. Instead, he crossed his arms and watched her with open amusement.

After trying to signal him for a while, she seemed to give up, letting out a deep sigh before focusing on the thugs before her.

"How about you enjoy the joys of honest labor instead of robbing people who might be dangerous?"

Ah, well said. Full of courage and wisdom.

Cleo was so moved he felt like applauding right there. Her goggles were crooked, messing up her light brown hair, but even in that state, her appearance was striking. Through the lenses, her eyes looked slightly larger, a deep green like emeralds. Her prominent, straight nose was slightly squished by the goggles, which was endearing. Even the way she had carelessly tied up her hair won him over.

She seemed free-spirited and incredibly bold.

"What's she saying?"

"Good for us. That just means one more pocket to empty."

And then her performance began.

In an instant, she incapacitated one thug (in more ways than one), then charged at the rest without even a sword. It was her solo show all the way. Though brief, it was enough to gauge her skill. She didn't seem to have formal training—her techniques leaned more toward practical survival—but who cared? She was still saving this frail-looking man.

However, in the next moment, Cleo was genuinely surprised.

She pulled something from her pocket. A flare? No, it was too small for that. An artifact? Cleo's eyes lit up. She blinded the thugs with the glowing object, then ran toward Cleo, boldly grabbing his wrist and pulling him in the opposite direction.

He could say with certainty that never in his life had Cleo Eastwood had his wrist grabbed by an unknown woman, and he never would again.

"Run!"

In an instant, the girl led him through a maze of alleys. Her frame wasn't particularly small for a woman, but compared to the tall Cleo, she appeared delicate. Yet she had bravely come to his rescue. Cleo firmly clasped her hand in return.

His hood fluttered in the wind. When she saw his face, she looked up at him with a strange expression.

Ah, no surprise there. Women often froze at the sight of his striking looks.

They safely escaped the alley.

"Huff, huff..."

She pushed her goggles up to her forehead and gasped for breath, still glancing behind to make sure the thugs weren't following. Thorough.

Catching his breath, Cleo offered his hand.

"I owe you my life, my lady."

But instead of shaking his hand, she shook her head. Her eyes, now wary, met his. She had passionately pulled him along just moments ago, but now she looked at him with suspicion. Like a feisty cat.

"Cleo."

He offered only his name deliberately.

The alley she had led him to was deserted and quiet—perfect for a secret conversation about artifacts or magical engineering. Cleo opened his mouth to speak.

"Damn..."

"I'll be going now. I'm busy..."

Without a hint of regret, she gave a casual nod of acknowledgment and left.

He could say with certainty that never in his life had Cleo Eastwood received such a half-hearted farewell from a woman...

"Oh, and try not to wander around dressed like that. It's like you're begging to be robbed."

She offered the advice with a hint of irritation, then quickly disappeared from the alley. Left alone, Cleo was so taken aback that he didn't even think to follow her.

Finally regaining his composure, he pulled his hood back up and tapped the artifact hanging around his neck.

"Maurice."

There was a brief crackling sound, then a low, steady voice answered.

"Yes, my lord."

"Get here immediately."

---

Her heart pounded like mad.

That man.

Hair like silver-white light scattering across a river. Crimson eyes. How could she ever forget that face?

Cleo Eastwood.

The man who had killed her in her past life.

In an instant, terror engulfed her entire body. She couldn't breathe.

"Oh, huff, haah..."

She forced strength into her trembling legs and fled as quickly as possible. A chilling sensation crept up her neck, as if a blade were pressed against it.

"Hee, hee, uh..."

She barely escaped the alley and leaned against the wall of an unfamiliar building. Her legs gave way, and she stumbled ungracefully. She collapsed, shaking uncontrollably from the formless pain and fear, closing her eyes and trying to soothe herself.

Calm down... It's okay...

She was still eighteen-year-old Roana Wedgison. Not yet the magical engineer locked away in a corner of the Imperial Palace, churning out weapons of war like a machine. Not yet.

Yes, not yet. I haven't committed any sins yet.

So that man had no reason to kill her. Her mind understood that.

But...

My heart won't stop racing.

She couldn't calm down easily.

She couldn't let this happen. Having resolved to live a new life, she couldn't let something like this break her.

She gritted her teeth and pushed herself up, as if gripping the dirt itself. This was just a coincidence. As long as she didn't get caught up in war, as long as she didn't follow Arthur III's orders, she wouldn't cross paths with that man.

"So... it's okay."

She dusted off her backside. Slowly, she inhaled and exhaled. Focusing on her lungs expanding and contracting, her trembling gradually subsided. Then she recalled her goal in this life.

Living happily with the people she loved.

To do that, she had to do what she could right now.

She needed to ask Karim for help so that Victor wouldn't be sent to a sanitarium.

That changed what she had to do.

I need to buy alcohol.

She let out a long breath, pushing aside the tangled thoughts.

---

She stopped by a few grocery stores and bought several bottles of the expensive liquor Karim loved, along with plenty of premium snacks. Splurging made her bags heavy.

"Ha, I'm really going all out for Karim."

They were close enough to know each other's likes and dislikes inside out... So why had Karim vanished without a word? In the past, she had even hired people to search extensively for her. But Karim had simply vanished.

Unless she planned to disappear, this wouldn't be possible.

Even the detective she'd hired had said that.

Unless she planned to...

That meant Karim hadn't been lost in an accident—she had left, intending never to be found.

By the time she reached home, she was so troubled over Karim that her face was practically frozen in despair. Hefting her heavy bags, she headed straight to the kitchen.

"I'm back."

She set down the bottles and began organizing the snacks, but the house was eerily quiet. Normally, Karim would already be rummaging through the basket before she could even speak, finding the snacks first.

"Karim? Are you here?"

Pushing down her anxiety, she called out again. No answer. Deliberately making her footsteps audible, she walked toward Karim's room.

"Karim!"

When she realized Karim wasn't in her room, she frantically searched the entire house like a madwoman.

"Karim! Karim!"

Why had she left? How could she? Or perhaps this rare timeline was different from the original world's time?

Tears clawed at her throat. Shutting the empty bathroom door, she wiped her sweaty palms on her clothes. Just then, the storage room door swung open.

"...?"

"...?"

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