Cero watched with an icy expression as his subordinates escorted Mirielle's group out of the interrogation room. His sharp gaze lingered on the young woman, who paused at the doorway, turned back, and spoke in a tone sharp enough to cut through the tension.
"You'll regret this..."
Cero responded with a faint smile, his words dripping with subtle sarcasm. "Oh, I'll look forward to it."
The comment caused Mirielle, usually composed, to furrow her brow slightly. She said nothing further, but her stiff posture made it clear this game was far from over.
Moments after the group left, Lieutenant Marcus approached Cero with a document in hand. He stood at attention and handed over the report, which detailed the analysis of the interrogation based on questions Cero had posed from behind a hidden one-way mirror.
Cero accepted the report silently, skimming through it quickly. Then, without closing the file, he spoke in a low, almost whisper-like tone. "Marcus, I have an additional task for you."
Marcus bowed slightly. "What are your orders, Director?"
Cero leaned closer, his voice dropping further. "Take them—Lady Mirielle and her group—on a tour. Bring them to the airfield training grounds. Today, our pilots are running flight simulations."
Marcus hesitated briefly. "You intend to show them our strength?"
Cero raised a finger to his lips, signaling silence. "Shh… Just let them watch. Don't answer any of their questions. Stay silent. Understood?"
Marcus saluted obediently. "Understood, Director."
Mirielle's group was escorted under heavy guard to a small hill overlooking Arcana's airfield. From there, they had a clear view of the bustling base—pilots inspecting their aircraft, technicians assembling equipment, and several fighter jets ready on the runway.
Standing at the forefront of her group, Mirielle watched the scene intently, accompanied by her wary guards. One of them, Renard, furrowed his brow as he glanced at the strange machines. "What are those? Metal creatures that can fly?"
Marcus, standing beside them, remained silent as ordered, his gaze fixed forward, ignoring the questions from the group.
Before Mirielle could ask anything, a deafening roar shattered the cold air. A fighter jet roared down the runway, its engines unleashing an unearthly sound—a stormy howl that sliced through the wind with unimaginable power.
Mirielle's eyes widened, her body stiffening as the aircraft ascended into the sky with impossible speed. "What… is that?"
No one answered. Marcus remained silent, his eyes glued to the jet now performing maneuvers in the sky.
Another jet followed, forming a tight formation in the air, their movements precise and calculated. One plane executed a barrel roll, spinning rapidly before returning to its original position with ease.
Mirielle's group stood frozen, unable to tear their gaze away from the awe-inspiring display. Renard, usually composed, muttered in a trembling voice. "That… that's not magic. What is this?"
One of the jets performed a simulated strike, releasing a dummy bomb that exploded harmlessly on an empty training field below. The ground shook beneath their feet, the force of the blast reverberating even on the hill where they stood. The group instinctively stepped back, their faces pale with shock.
Mirielle, who had remained calm during the interrogation, now felt a tightness in her chest. This wasn't just surprising—it was humbling. She wasn't merely witnessing power; she was confronted with a force she couldn't comprehend. This technology surpassed anything she had ever imagined.
"Lady Mirielle," one of her guards whispered. "If they have power like this… how can we possibly fight them?"
Mirielle didn't respond. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides as she continued staring at the sky, where the metal giants soared like steel birds, embodying an unstoppable force.
When the demonstration concluded, Marcus led the group back to the base in a much quieter atmosphere. No one spoke—not even Mirielle, who seemed lost in thought.
From the control room, Cero observed everything through a monitor, a faint smile playing on his lips. "They'll never see the world the same way again," he muttered to himself.
Sarah, standing nearby, glanced at him. "You certainly know how to leave an impression, Director."
Cero rose from his seat, straightening his jacket. "Sometimes, fear is more effective than diplomacy. Let's see how they respond to this."
Night fell over Dralven, blanketing the city in a serene quiet, broken only by the soft sound of falling snow. Despite the busyness of his responsibilities, Cero rarely had time to enjoy such moments of calm. His office, which doubled as his living quarters, was the only place where he could find solitude.
The room was simple yet meticulously designed: a large desk in the center, surrounded by shelves of documents, and a small door leading to his private quarters. The quarters were modest, with a single bed dressed in clean linens, a small wardrobe, and a large window offering a view of the city below.
That night, after changing from his military jacket into comfortable cotton pajamas, Cero stood by the window, gazing at the gently falling snow.
In his hand, he held a glass of red wine, the ruby liquid shimmering under the warm light of his room. His eyes scanned the city below, now glowing with the lights of streetlamps and neatly arranged homes. Dralven, once a small village of rickety wooden houses, had transformed into a modern city with paved sidewalks, centralized heating, and abundant food supplies even in the harsh winter.
In the past, winters were a season of dread for Dralven's residents. They relied on small fireplaces in fragile wooden homes, praying their roofs wouldn't collapse under the snow. But now, everything had changed. Cero had brought technology they once considered miraculous: sturdy concrete homes, reliable indoor heating, and enough food for everyone.
Outside, children played in the snow without fear, and the warm aroma of home-cooked meals filled the air. Gradually, the people of Dralven were beginning to view Cero not as a conqueror but as a harbinger of change.
Cero swirled the wine in his glass, catching his reflection in the window. With a faint smile, he murmured to himself, "Change always brings conflict. But in the end, progress is the price civilization must pay."
He recalled a quote from a famous philosopher on Earth:
"Progress is a double-edged sword—it creates the future but destroys tradition."
He smiled faintly. The words seemed fitting for the transformation he had initiated in this world. He knew not everyone welcomed change, but the results were beginning to speak for themselves.
Suddenly, the familiar chime of a System notification echoed in his mind, breaking the peaceful silence of the night.
[Quest Complete: Enhance the Welfare of Dravlen.]
[Reward Points: 1,000 G, and a New System Feature Unlocked: Social Satisfaction Evaluation Tool.]
Cero narrowed his eyes, focusing his thoughts on the virtual interface visible only to him. Social Satisfaction Evaluation? he wondered.
"Sistem, explain this feature," he said internally.
[Social Satisfaction Evaluation Feature: A tool to monitor the level of satisfaction among your populace regarding your leadership. The data is gathered through social, economic, and political indicators in the territories under your control.]
A graph materialized before his eyes, displaying an 85% satisfaction rating for Dravlen—a respectable number given the sweeping transformations that had recently begun.
Cero stared at the virtual display, his expression unreadable. The System had been his loyal companion since he first woke up in this world. Yet, beneath the invaluable assistance it provided, a gnawing curiosity lingered in his mind. A curiosity about himself. Who had he been before arriving here? Where had he come from? And why had he been chosen to wield such power?
He set his wine glass on the table, running his hand lightly over its polished wooden surface before speaking. "Sistem, is today's quest already resolved?"
[Quest: Personal Interrogation - Opportunity to Gain Verified Critical Information.
Status: Completed.
Reward: Verified Additional Information.]
Cero's eyes narrowed further. "Additional information, huh? In that case, I want to know about myself. More specifically, I want to know my origins. I know I'm from Earth because this system feels familiar—like something straight out of a shounen comic or an RPG game."
[Processing…]
[Apologies, you do not yet have access to that data.]
Cero let out a quiet chuckle, a wry smile forming on his lips. "Of course," he muttered. "This system is too clever to hand over answers that easily."
But he didn't give up. If there was one thing he'd learned, it was how to think creatively and find loopholes in any situation. Rising from his seat, he strolled slowly toward the large window in his office. The snow continued to fall outside, a fitting backdrop to his deep contemplation.
"All right then… System, tell me from which country, city, and profession I came before arriving in this world."
[Processing…]
[Partial data accessible. Loading information…]
Cero held his breath. For the first time, the display before him revealed something resembling a document, its details partially blurred and unreadable in places.
[Full Name: Arcana Cero (Alias, Chosen Name in the New World).]
[Origin: Tokyo, Japan.]
[Profession: Strategy and Technology Consultant, Former Private Military Official.]
Cero's eyes widened briefly before he regained his composure. The information was like a piece of a puzzle slowly taking shape, though it remained too fragmented to form a complete picture.
"Tokyo…" he murmured softly. "So, I'm from Japan. A strategy and technology consultant? Private military?" His gaze shifted to the falling snow outside, as if seeking answers in its silent descent.