The morning sunlight was especially warm. In his study, the Emperor quietly worked through the paperwork that had piled up after yesterday's "hunting trip."
For an emperor, he undoubtedly worked too hard—his wife often urged him to take it easy—but he always smiled and replied, "Since it has to be done anyway, does it matter whether I finish it sooner or later?"
Calling him the Empire's "Wise Emperor" was no exaggeration.
At the moment, a man was kneeling on one knee before his desk. The Emperor had asked him countless times not to kneel, but the man always refused, insisting it "wouldn't be proper." Eventually, the Emperor gave up; there was no point arguing.
"Your Majesty, the agents assigned to last night's surveillance have returned."
"Oh? Already? What did they find?"
"According to their observations, the target is extremely cautious. Even in his sleep, the slightest rustle woke him. He never let go of his weapon. After noticing subtle signs of surveillance multiple times, he even stayed awake for the latter half of the night. Once my men confirmed he had already noticed them, they refrained from disturbing him further."
Hearing Budo's report, the Emperor couldn't help but show a wry smile.
What is he wary of inside the Imperial Palace? Is that even a question? Of course he's wary of me—or rather, my men.
What else could he do but smile? If he truly intended harm, could Lancer even stop Budo?
"Given today's intelligence, what's your assessment? Is he dangerous?"
"Yes. Even without a Teigu or Shingu, his combat ability is on par with my subordinates. I advise keeping at least one agent on close surveillance."
"Good. I'll take your advice."
Personally, the Emperor felt genuine gratitude for Lancer's help yesterday. However, as emperor, he couldn't act purely on sentiment—such as investigating someone thoroughly to judge their threat level. He didn't live for himself alone.
As he nodded, another thought suddenly came to him.
"Budo, what if we let this Lancer join the Imperial Guard? You've acknowledged his skill, and if he joins the Guard, it'll be easier for you to monitor him, won't it?"
The Emperor wanted to reward Lancer somehow. Giving money felt too crude; joining the Imperial Guard seemed like a proper reward. To someone from a remote village, it was a stable and high-paying job (or so he thought).
"Your Majesty's kindness knows no bounds!"
...
To Budo, letting a commoner join the Imperial Guard was an enormous act of generosity. But he hadn't expected that, once he delivered the Emperor's "kindness," the boy would actually hesitate.
Could Lancer not hesitate? He didn't even understand the situation yet—besides, his impression of the Empire was terrible.
Nobles acting as they pleased, the young Emperor as a puppet, the whole Empire morally rotten, the Capital a living hell devouring the weak. Not that he liked the Revolutionary Army either—they welcomed foreign invaders. Honestly, Lancer hated the world of Akame ga Kill! as a whole. The only reason he'd even finished the anime was to see how that damned Minister died. Years of pent-up resentment—but his sense of decency had shifted over time: first upset by the deaths of girls, later just crushed by despair. The entire world reeked of malice.
Budo didn't think much of Lancer's hesitant, "Could you give me some time to think about it?" Aside from his extreme loyalty to the royal family, Budo was simply a serious man.
From that day on, Lancer began "sightseeing" across the entire Capital.
Naturally, this behavior was deeply suspicious. Budo found himself questioning his earlier conclusion—
Could this brat actually be a spy from elsewhere?
But after careful review, every place Lancer visited was completely ordinary. If he truly were a spy, he wouldn't wander openly and certainly wouldn't stick to such mundane areas.
Ultimately, Budo settled on one explanation: the boy had simply never seen the outside world before, so his curiosity was strong.
For now, Lancer had no idea how others viewed him. But even if he did, he wouldn't have cared. At the moment, he was preoccupied with one question:
Though the Capital's slums were chaotic, its normal residential districts seemed surprisingly "normal." At the very least, he hadn't seen nobles openly abusing their power, and common people lived ordinary lives.
Could it be that before that Minister took power, the Capital wasn't yet the hellscape it later became?
He had to survive in this world for two years. The easiest solution would be to find a remote mountain, hide, hunt Danger Beasts, and spend two years living like a hermit—almost like a vacation, though he wouldn't gain much from it.
But whenever he imagined this seemingly normal city inevitably collapsing into a living hell, a surge of disgust rose within him.
He wasn't a saint; he didn't have noble ideals or a desire to sacrifice himself. He was just an ordinary guy—but he couldn't ignore things he could actually affect.
I just want to earn some extra points. If I manage to alter the world's course, I'll rack up points. And if things really get bad, I can always run away…
Unable to convince himself to get involved for the sake of others, he chose the excuse of "benefits" to push himself forward.
This is probably what you call an idiot, right?
...
After successfully fooling himself, a certain "idiot" appeared before a certain man…
"Please allow me to join the Imperial Guard!"
To most people, Lancer joining the Imperial Guard meant nothing. Officially, the Guard was the "Emperor's direct army," but due to General Budo's ancestral rule that "the military must not meddle in politics," they held virtually no political power.
Nobles with ambition would never send their heirs there. Joining the Imperial Guard meant signing away any political future.
Thus, ordinary people had no reason to pay attention. Even those with ulterior motives wouldn't bother with a "country bumpkin" from some remote village.
Yet in truth, with Lancer stepping onto the stage, history had already begun to shift. These tiny ripples would eventually swell into a massive wave, one that would irreversibly reshape the future…