"So what exactly are you asking me to do? What difference does it make if I admit to being brainwashed?"
"If you do… both you and Arin will be acquitted."
Canis froze, his expression blank. He had followed Arcane to break a criminal out of Inferno and had endangered the lives of hundreds of mages in the process. Even if he hadn't been the mastermind, claiming innocence seemed completely absurd.
"Innocent… us?"
"Yes, if you admit to being brainwashed. The Magic Association is focusing on that angle right now."
If he admitted to being brainwashed, he'd be released. Free. Both he and Arin could live new lives as if nothing had happened.
Canis felt the blood drain from his face. What disturbed him most wasn't the idea of admitting it—it was the Association's logic. Why were they going out of their way to release criminals when they should be doing everything they could to catch them?
"Oh, and one more thing," said Sakiri, flipping through a folder as if suddenly remembering something. Maybe she really had just remembered—but it was always hard to read her.
"Arcane's personal attorney sent us an official letter. She requested anonymity, but the document is fully notarized. Here—these are records of his assets, his will, and his inheritance."
"His… will?"
Sakiri slid the papers across the table without saying another word.
Canis picked them up with trembling hands. Arcane's will was surprisingly simple. Written in his familiar, plain handwriting, it listed the matters to be handled after his death.
One line stood out:
[Document] All assets transferred to Canis
Master...
Canis never believed Arcane to be warm-hearted. He hadn't expected secret gestures of affection or care. Arcane was a man who acted with absolute conviction, and never pretended to be otherwise.
Still, this will proved something: Arcane may not have cared for his disciples' lives, but he did consider Canis his one true student.
Canis continued flipping through the documents, reviewing a detailed inventory of assets: real estate, including several dungeons, magical equipment, rare artifacts, expensive herbs, and a massive sum in the bank.
One, ten, a hundred, a thousand...
He counted the digits at the end.
4.8 billion gold…
Even for a master mage who lived over 150 years, the amount was staggering. And yet, none of this made sense. One moment, he was being declared innocent—and the next, he was told he'd inherited 4.8 billion gold?
Sakiri scratched her head with a sheepish look.
"Actually, there's a catch. The reason Arcane left everything to you, Canis, is likely because he saw you as his disciple. But to the Magic Association, that looks suspicious—like a form of brainwashing. Giving you a false identity, a false ego."
She paused.
"In their view, Arcane manipulated you. That's why they're willing to let you go. Because otherwise, they can't justify you committing such terrible acts. But if they do let you go…"
"…then I'm not really his disciple, and I can't inherit anything," Canis finished for her.
Sakiri gave her first gentle smile—but there was nothing soft behind it.
"Exactly. The one Arcane left his estate to was the brainwashed Canis. Not the real one. So the money technically doesn't go to you anymore. It becomes illegal property and will be seized by the Association. Still, I'd like to hear your thoughts before that happens."
She slid a final document across the table.
"If you admit to being brainwashed, you'll be acquitted. All that's left is for you to sign this."
Canis stared down at the paper.
A memorandum of renunciation.
If he signed it, he would officially be recognized as a victim—used by Arcane. He'd be innocent… but the inheritance would go to the Association instead.
In the end, the Association chose the 4.8 billion gold over justice for two young criminals.
"I can give you more time," Sakiri said, "but delaying might hurt your trial. It may seem like you're resisting. And honestly—doesn't it make sense? Of course you were brainwashed. Otherwise, how could you and Arin have done what you did?"
Canis felt his mind go numb. He wasn't afraid of dying in battle. But here, they were telling him he wasn't even guilty. That all his choices weren't his own.
This place… is no different from Radum.
The outside world wasn't some warm sanctuary. It was just another battlefield—one where power played dress-up in the robes of justice.
As he hesitated, Sakiri stood and stretched.
"Take your time. Maybe an hour—"
"I'll sign."
Sakiri paused mid-motion, then smiled and sat back down.
"Good choice. Here…"
She handed him a pen. With mechanical movements, Canis scrawled his name on the line.
The sound of the pen scratching against paper filled the silence.
Sakiri took the document back and nodded with satisfaction.
"Congratulations. You're free. Honestly, this worked out well. If you'd hired a lawyer, things might have gotten messy."
Lawyer? The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Maybe he should've…
No. Sakiri wasn't lying. If the Association had any interest in fairness, they wouldn't have brought in a waiver in the first place.
"What now?"
"Well, you're free to go."
"No release procedures?"
"None. Just walk out."
It was like watching a peddler being chased off someone's porch. Canis understood—Sakiri didn't see them as people. This whole process had taken two hours, and all for one reason: to recover Arcane's fortune.
Worse than the humiliation was the powerlessness. He now truly understood the strength of the man who dared challenge the continent alone.
Canis straightened, his resolve hardening. He was a battle mage. And now, he had nothing left to lose.
"Hey," he called as Sakiri neared the door.
"Did you say something?"
"You're a mage, right?"
"Hm? You could say that. Everyone in the Association is."
"What rank?"
"Official 5th-grade."
So that's the level of their investigators. A certified 5th-grade mage.
"I won't stop here," Canis said. "I'm not done yet."
"That's how it should be. Good. Then go."
"Someday… I'll make you my subordinate."
Sakiri paused with her hand on the doorknob. She turned back, smiling faintly.
"Then you'd better study hard. This position's not easy to earn, you know. But if that day ever comes…"
She placed a hand over her heart.
"I wish you the best."
Canis didn't answer. He simply watched her go, realizing how coldly pragmatic she truly was. Bowing your head cost nothing. And no one knew what the future held.
Once Sakiri was gone, Arin turned to him with a grin.
"Well, you made the right choice."
"Seriously… the world's full of strong people."
Canis smiled faintly. A new fire stirred in his chest—the same feeling he had when he first met Arcane.
"Let's get stronger, Arin."
"Yeah…" she whispered.
Arin stared at the door Sakiri had exited through. Canis will come back here someday, she thought. This isn't the end for them. And if that's true, then I can move forward too.
After leaving the investigation room, Sakiri headed straight for the inspector's office. Considering the weight of the case, the resolution came surprisingly easily. Arcane's death had simplified matters. There were no legal complications, and Alpheas's admission of guilt had played a significant role in settling everything.
The inspector's office was a lavish room with gleaming marble floors. Standing by the window with his hands clasped behind his back was a man known as the Iron Inspector— a legend in Inspection Division 3.
"Inspector General, here are the settlement documents for the case," Sakiri said.
"Leave them on the desk."
She placed the folder down, intending to leave as usual. But this time, curiosity got the better of her. She hesitated at the door, then turned back.
"Is the Alpheas case really closed?"
"Why do you ask? Do you think someone higher up will intervene?"
"A six-month suspension seems light. But there's been no backlash. If this had happened 40 years ago, considering there was no intent to harm and the 4.8 billion gold was converted into jewelry… maybe it really is a fair resolution."
"Then why question it?"
His reply confirmed what Sakiri had suspected. She clicked her tongue in frustration. She hadn't meant to say so much, but now that she had, taking it back would only make things worse.
"I was just wondering... if atonement had anything to do with it."
The inspector remained silent for a long time. Then he slowly turned around to face her.
"I did feel sorry for Alpheas," he said at last. "But personal feelings never decide the punishment of a criminal."
"Understood. I spoke out of turn. I apologize."
"Go on. You're dismissed."
Feeling awkward, Sakiri bowed and quickly left the office. The man may be a relentless force against criminals, but within the Society, he was just another mage, subject to the authority of those above him.
After a moment, the inspector opened the file she had left behind. He read through the report carefully, then picked up a fountain pen and hovered it over the approval line. Memories flooded his mind—decades' worth. He was an old man now, with gray hair, but he could still feel the sting in his jaw from the punch he took at Alpheas's house all those years ago.
"Sheesh... I should've brought a gift," he muttered.
He hadn't visited Alpheas since that incident with Erina. Pride had kept him away, unwilling to admit he had lost. But over the past 40 years, the photon quantum theory had advanced and revolutionized the world. Even now, it continued to evolve. There was no denying how much of that progress was thanks to Alpheas's genius.
"Hah... consider this a belated gift. The Gold Circle belongs to you now."
With that, the inspector signed the document.
Ardiano Sarov.