If Lancer had still been unsure which world he'd entered, the moment he saw that middle-aged man, he had his answer—the world of Akame ga Kill!.
Among all the blond men in anime, plenty had unruly hair, even some with a standout ahoge—but two distinct ahoge strands curving backward? Incredibly rare. And with that unmistakably iconic armor, the conclusion was obvious—
General Budo.
In the world's original "initial setting," he was a top contender for the title of "Strongest."
Lancer remembered this world well, and his verdict had always been simple:
A world full of corruption.
"You recognize me?"
Budo's slightly hoarse voice cut through his thoughts.
"Well… I've seen your portraits before…"
Lancer's voice trembled despite his best efforts. How could he not be nervous? Sure, Budo was eventually defeated, but it had taken several main characters working together—and the man's Teigu could turn someone into charcoal in an instant.
What Lancer didn't know was that this nervousness was exactly what Budo expected. Inwardly, Budo even nodded, satisfied.
Looks like he's not connected to those assassins after all.
Given Budo's twisted devotion to the Emperor, he would kill innocents without hesitation if it meant ensuring the Emperor's safety. Fortunately for Lancer, the guards' reports clearly stated he'd immediately fought the beasts upon appearing. Watching Lancer's fighting style had given Budo further clues, convincing him to let the stranger go—for now.
Budo had recognized that Lancer's way of using the lance was highly specialized for battling Danger Beasts. If he were truly an assassin working with the Teigu-user controlling the beasts, he wouldn't be fighting like that.
Plus, judging by the armor—crafted from bones and shells of beasts unfamiliar to Budo—he formed a tentative theory: Lancer was probably from a remote, isolated village, and his occupation was likely that of a hunter.
Meanwhile, the completely oblivious Lancer had no idea he'd just avoided his second "spawn kill." His "careful preparation" had saved him yet again.
Just then, the ground trembled slightly—without a doubt, the main forces of the Imperial Guard had arrived…
...
Sitting in the carriage, Lancer felt stiff. Though he'd guessed the blond middle-aged man's identity the moment he saw General Budo, he hadn't expected the man to really be the Previous Emperor—someone who, in the original story, was essentially just background dressing.
But "background" didn't mean unimportant. Many small details hinted that the Previous Emperor was completely different from the young Emperor who succeeded him.
The young Emperor himself had described him as a "wise ruler." Coupled with accounts from former military leaders in Night Raid—such as Najenda and Bulat—and testimonies from nobles assassinated by the Empire's secret operatives, the Previous Emperor had been unmistakably competent.
If the story proceeded the same way as the original, Lancer felt he could live comfortably as long as he stayed out of trouble. But looking at the energetic middle-aged man across from him—messy hair, bright eyes—Lancer had a sinking feeling he might not even live long enough to see the plot proper begin two years later.
"Lancer-san, you seem nervous?"
The Emperor, unaware Lancer already knew his identity, held a good impression of him. After all, Lancer had charged in to help purely out of enthusiasm. He simply assumed Lancer was uneasy about sitting with a noble for the first time.
"My apologies. It's my first time riding in a carriage like this (I usually take cars), and also my first time coming to the Capital…"
"Haha! Nothing to apologize for. You helped me a great deal earlier. Besides, you'll have plenty of chances to ride in one from now on!"
He even threw Lancer a playful wink. Given that Lancer knew exactly who this man was, the feeling was indescribably strange.
But the Emperor seemed to thoroughly enjoy chatting with someone who "didn't know" his identity (even though he knew Lancer didn't know). Proudly, he began introducing the Capital.
Of course, he praised the achievements of his ancestors and highlighted his own accomplishments. But he also gave Lancer genuinely useful information—details that helped him get a sense of this world.
What puzzled Lancer was that, according to the Emperor's description, the Imperial Capital—while certainly not perfect (especially when compared to a modern, law-abiding society)—wasn't quite the "living hell" he remembered.
He kept his doubts to himself. After all, no matter how disgusted he was by the atrocities he remembered, only the living had the luxury of feeling disgusted. The Emperor took Lancer's silence as "awed speechlessness" and didn't mind at all.
Only when the carriage stopped before the Palace gates did the Emperor reluctantly end his enthusiastic introduction. He still seemed eager to continue, while Lancer secretly let out a breath of relief. The information itself was useful, but the heavy bias woven into it made the lecture exhausting.
The carriage door opened, revealing General Budo, head slightly bowed—no trace of the Empire's "Strongest" in his posture.
"Your Majesty, we have arrived at the Palace."
Stepping out first, the Emperor glanced back at Lancer's deliberately "shocked" expression and smiled, clearly pleased.
...
Lancer felt that luck wasn't treating him too badly. Even though he'd accidentally saved the Emperor's life, he was now treated to a lavish dinner (though dining with the Emperor was the real privilege), given a luxurious bed, and even granted an official identity.
After hearing Budo's quiet explanation, the Emperor accepted the general's reasoning: Lancer was simply a commoner from a deep mountain village without proper records. Thus, he generously issued identification papers and allowed Lancer to stay in a guest room within the Palace.
What Lancer didn't know was that, as he rested with his lance beside his pillow, more than one pair of hidden eyes watched him from the shadows.
Though his actions had greatly pleased the Emperor, that alone wasn't enough to earn true trust.
His real "trial" had only just begun.