“Ah? Count? What brings you here?”
“Yuri, you’re here. You don’t have a shift today. Instead, you’ll just observe.”
“What!?”
Yuri instinctively repeated the words.
It was already surprising enough that the Count himself had come to headquarters.
But now she was being told she wasn’t on duty today?
What kind of sudden nonsense was this? Her expression turned blank in confusion.
“What do you mean I don’t have a shift? Today’s supposed to be my workday.”
“I just personally changed the schedule. You’re off duty today, and you’ll be observing with me.”
“Huh…?”
“Don’t worry. Your pay remains the same. Consider it a paid leave and enjoy it.”
“…?”
She couldn’t make sense of it at all.
It wasn’t like the whole team was off.
She was the only one removed from duty, just to observe?
The order was too strange to grasp.
“Ah… Understood…”
But refusing wasn’t an option either.
Still baffled, Yuri decided to accept the order for now.
“But… what is this for?”
“…”
“Count?”
“…”
No matter how much she asked, Aslan remained silent.
It seemed he had no intention of explaining it anytime soon.
Since it was something Aslan Vermont was doing, there had to be a reason, of course…
But outright canceling her duty without a word? That was difficult to accept.
If this turned out to be for some trivial reason, she was going to be mad.
Yuri made up her mind to endure for now.
“When you say ‘observe’… what exactly am I supposed to do?”
“Just what it sounds like. Watch your team work with me.”
“Just watch? Not stand by for backup or anything?”
“Yes. Just watch.”
“…”
Seriously, what was he thinking?
Muttering to herself in frustration, Yuri followed after Aslan.
“Um, Count…”
“Speak.”
“My team might struggle to complete the mission without me.”
“Is that what you really think? Well then, let’s see for ourselves.”
“…?”
Aslan responded with a slight smirk, as if to say, We’ll see about that.
Yuri tilted her head in confusion.
What exactly was this man up to?
Soon, the mission began.
Yuri’s team departed without her, while she and Aslan followed in a separate carriage.
At this moment, her team was supposed to be on high alert, carrying out their patrol—
Yet here she was, sitting comfortably in a carriage, just observing.
It was… a strangely fresh experience.
‘Today’s mission was a patrol, right?’
The mission involved patrolling a designated danger zone.
It was an area known for frequent monster appearances, officially classified as a hazardous region by the state.
However, ever since Vermont Security took over management, the number of monsters had drastically decreased.
It wasn’t exactly a high-risk assignment—
But occasionally, very occasionally, monsters did appear, so they couldn’t let their guard down completely.
“Relax and observe. Why are you pressing your face against the window and scanning the area like that?”
“But I’m usually the one in charge of surveillance during patrols…”
“You handle surveillance? Then who reports and relays information?”
“I do.”
“And who handles incident response?”
“…I do.”
“From what I’m hearing, it sounds like you do all the work. Maybe I don’t need to pay the rest of your team.”
“N-No! They work hard too!”
Startled, Yuri frantically waved her hands.
“Then why are you handling everything yourself?”
“That’s… well… because I’m the fastest and most efficient at it…”
Her team consisted of four people.
But in reality, Yuri ended up doing most of the work.
And in a way, that was only natural.
She was the fastest, the strongest, and had the sharpest senses.
So, of course, she was the one who detected danger first, reported it, and then took care of the threat.
It was the quickest and safest method.
…Wasn’t it?
“So, to summarize—you don’t trust your team because they’re not as skilled as you.”
“N-No! I completely trust my teammates—”
Her voice, initially defiant, gradually grew quieter.
She wanted to insist she trusted her team.
But as doubt crept in, she found she couldn’t say it with confidence.
Did she really trust them?
Or was she just pretending to, while taking on everything herself because she couldn’t rely on them?
Could it be… that I’m acting this way because I don’t trust them enough to watch my back? Because I’m anxious?
The thought struck Yuri suddenly.
Her shoulders slumped.
“…Huh!?”
At that very moment—
A grotesque shriek echoed throughout the mountain.
Yuri immediately tensed.
“A monster…!”
It was the cry of a monster.
Of all times, why did one have to appear now, when she was off duty and merely observing?!
Yuri anxiously tapped her foot, then hurriedly peered through both sides of the carriage, scanning the area in search of the monster’s location.
Damn it, the carriage limits my field of vision too much!
Just as she was about to fling open the door and jump out—
Aslan firmly grabbed her wrist.
“Count!? There’s a monster—!”
“I know. My senses may not be as sharp as yours, but I’m not deaf.”
“This is an emergency! I have to get out there—!”
“An emergency is only an emergency when there are no trained professionals to handle the situation. But isn’t there a fully equipped combat team on patrol right now?”
“Still…!”
“You think your team can’t function properly without you?”
“….”
Yuri couldn’t answer.
She wanted to say no.
But she couldn’t bring herself to lie.
Her silence was, in essence, an admission.
Until now, she had always been the one on watch, the one to report threats, the one to engage and neutralize monsters.
Which meant—
Because of her, the rest of the team had never been able to fully adapt to their roles.
Without her, they were bound to struggle in a situation like this.
…Or so she thought.
“My business prioritizes profit above all else. If there was a team that couldn’t function without a single person, I would’ve fired them all a long time ago.”
“….”
“Watch carefully. See how the teammates you doubted handle this without you.”
Just then, the monster emerged from the underbrush—
And at that very moment, the team, lying in wait, executed their ambush flawlessly.
A seamless coordination.
Perfect teamwork.
From start to finish, not a single moment of crisis—
The team worked together to swiftly subdue a monster twice their size.
Watching in stunned silence, Yuri eventually lowered her head.
“…I’m sorry.”
“….”
“I finally understand. I’ve been acting too arrogant….”
“It seems you’ve misunderstood something. The reason I pulled you from duty today wasn’t to scold you.”
“…?”
Thud.
A large hand landed atop Yuri’s head.
Cautiously, she looked up.
She had expected Aslan to be irritated.
But instead of annoyance, he wore a faint smile.
Yuri tilted her head in confusion.
“You seemed burdened.”
“You try to take everything on yourself—carry all the responsibilities alone.
You fight alone. Get hurt alone.
As if there’s no one else who could possibly do it but you.
And I hated watching that.”
“…”
“Your team can function just fine without you.
Not just your team, but your school as well.
So stop struggling by yourself.
Right now, you have plenty of comrades and friends you can entrust your back to.”
“…”
Without another word, Aslan roughly ruffled Yuri’s hair.
It was as if he was consoling a protagonist lost in a world different from the original story—
A world where everything had diverged from its intended path.
Unlike the original, where she had to fight, protect, and lose everything alone—
This world gave Yuri strong teammates, loyal friends, and trusted comrades.
They weren’t just people she had to protect.
He wanted her to realize that.
And judging from her reaction, it seemed his message had gotten through.
“I understand…”
Yuri muttered softly.
Aslan smiled and withdrew his hand.
“Honestly… up until now, I think I’ve subconsciously doubted everyone but myself. Thanks to you, I’ve finally become aware of that. Now, I feel like I can finally entrust my back to my team.”
“Good. That’s the answer I was looking for.”
“Before, I was obsessed with handling both offense and defense on my own. But now, I don’t have to! I can leave the defense to my teammates and throw myself headfirst into the enemy ranks without worry!”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I wanted… Wait, huh?”
“From now on, I’ll focus solely on attacking!”
Aslan narrowed his eyes, suddenly sensing something was off.
Why had her conclusion turned out like this…?
This… wasn’t quite what he had intended.
But, well—
At least the goal had been achieved, so he decided to count it as a win.
