"Is this all there is on Luca Frey?" Claude Noire lifted the two thin sheets of paper as if he were examining a pair of wilted lettuce leaves.

Given the cryptic urgency in the message from his past self in Round 75—especially when paired with the ominous warning about Micah Frey—Claude had ordered Beletris to conduct a thorough background check on the younger Frey.

But this is it?

His frown grew as he noticed that only one side of each page contained any information. He preferred concise reports, but this bordered on absurdly brief.

He glanced at Belestris, standing before him with her head bowed. "Didn't I instruct you to spare no expense or resources from the Spider Syndicate?" he demanded.

"My apologies, Master Claude," she replied. "I'll gather more in the coming days and weeks, but this is everything we could uncover on such short notice."

Claude sighed, setting the papers down. "It'll have to do for now, I suppose."

But it is suspicious. The lack of information is insight in of itself.

His eyes scanned through the information on the two pieces of paper, scrutinizing each detail and trying to piece together the puzzle.

I should record the critical elements to avoid wasting time on intel for my future self's sake.

Luca Frey was the second oldest child of the Frey family, a family that Claude was quite familiar with due to the dangerous factor known as Micah Frey. However, unlike his older brother, who was both ruthless and highly ambitious, Luca seemed almost laughable in comparison.

A fool.

That was how Belestris's report ultimately described him. Luca Frey lacked talent, tact, and intellect. Despite coming from a powerful family, he appeared absent of connections himself. He played pranks in poor taste for attention and was even banned from the invite lists by several families that the Frey family was otherwise on good relations with.

"Oh?" Claude raised a brow at one detail. "I'm sure that prideful man wouldn't have liked that at all…."

Luca had somehow managed to beat Duke Hatis Maudel's nephew in a sword competition a few months ago. While this was hardly a feat of skill—Claude knew Maudel's nephew to be a pampered, talentless brat who likely bought his victories—there was still a kernel of intrigue in the victory.

The Maudel boy will want revenge. He'll be eager to reclaim his pride in the next sword competition. Or perhaps by other underhanded means.

Claude's eyes narrowed at an annoying bit of insight regarding Duke Hatis Maudel's unexpected involvement.

This sorry excuse of a man… kicking a hornet's nest for no reason at all.

Yet, according to the report, Luca hadn't lifted a finger to prepare for another match himself—or anything else, for that matter. The young Frey had become a complete shut-in over the past three months. Rumor had it that a major falling out with his older brother resulted in his recluse.

It must have been quite the fight. And perhaps that's to my advantage, given my haphazard relationship with his older brother. Perhaps I united with Luca Frey even?

"Find out exactly why they had a falling out," Claude ordered.

"Of course," Beletris nodded her head.

This was the first detail that might have hinted at the explanation behind the cryptic last message his past self left behind.

Claude massaged his wrist where the unusual command from the previous loop was written and reread the peculiar message for the hundredth time.

'Luca Frey is a treasure. Protect him. Save him at all costs.'

No matter how often he read it, he couldn't wrap his head around why his previous self of Round 75 would ever write something like it.

It was exceedingly odd.

To start, it was written hastily, likely while on the brink of death. Thus, it was rather curious why this message was so critical to pass on to his current self. Luca Frey had never appeared in any of his previous tattoos and Beletris's report hardly shined a flattering light on the young man.

Moreover, it wasn't forged; Claude recognized it to be his handwriting. There were no signs of him being forced to write it either—he had a secret symbol that he had utilized on one occasion to ensure another's meddling would prove futile. He wasn't one to fall victim to clumsy attempts at manipulation—he was far too clever for that.

However, that made it all the more peculiar and unlike any other tattoo he had.

That was the second oddity: all the other tattooed messages were a series of warnings, hints, and insights. But protection? A treasure? There wasn't anyone that his past loop selves treasured or thought worthy of protection.

Claude smiled bitterly.

I suppose my love life and close friendships must have been quite pitiful if that were the case.

He traced the messily inscribed tattoo.

Yet Luca Frey was worthy enough of such praise?

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Born in 761..." he murmured to himself, reading out the date on Belestris's report.

He knew the period well—his grandfather and mother had kept meticulous records of all past Summonings. Notably, about two decades prior, a Mass Summoning occurred, a rare event that had birthed an unusual number of golden-eyed children. Many of whom had since Awakened in the current Summoning.

And he is adopted. Given the timing, Luca may be one of these Awakened. Perhaps this is a hint to the reason why I cared so much about his well-being.

Claude clicked his tongue.

But even if he were Awakened, what about Luca Frey is special enough to warrant my protection of him? To what benefit?

Claude's tattoos identified a handful of Awakened for him, and in every case, there was a slew of warnings associated with each one. It was ultimately best to avoid getting involved with any of them.

But a treasure? Why would I refer to him as a treasure? Wouldn't it have been enough to say he's valuable? Or did my past self choose 'treasure' for its layers of meaning, hoping to convey everything with a single word?

Claude frowned further as he retraced the tattooed symbols for 'save him at all costs.'

It was odd enough that his previous loop had praised someone and even commanded him to protect Luca Frey as he was dying, but at all costs?

This was the third peculiarity. Claude imagined himself dying and using the last of his strength to scribble in the secret message to praise and command to protect this Luca Frey individual. And then go on to use whatever precious time was left, to underscore the importance of his initial command. Not just to protect, but to save him.

Claude sighed and shook his head.

He trusted his previous loop self but couldn't fathom why he would have wanted to emphasize it.

Even if Luca Frey was an Awakened—which I have no confirmation of yet—and we were on friendly terms, which also seems implausible, even then, why would I go that far? Why?

Claude rubbed his hand over his jaw as his mind wandered through the possible and bizarre scenarios. His eyes focused on the fallen rose petals of a vase of flowers sitting on a nearby decorative table.

Maybe I fell head over heels for him?

He smirked. It was laughably absurd, given that Luca Frey lacked any desirable traits—Beletris's report did well to highlight his inadequacies. However, it was not entirely out of the realm of possibilities. It was ridiculous enough that it paradoxically actually made sense.

Most people in love do stupid things.

Claude tapped his fingers over his desk.

Except I'm not like most people. In all these 75 Rounds, I haven't had a friend or lover worthy enough to inscribe in my tattoos. It makes no sense that one would come about now unless trickery was involved.

"How easy would it be to procure a love potion?" Claude inquired of Belestris. He'd heard of such items but wasn't sure if they were merely rumors and scams. "Or rather, something powerful enough to alter one's mind in regards to another individual."

Belestris raised a brow. "Master Claude, you jest, I'm sure. There are plenty of relaxation and mind-altering potions and spells, but if you truly have someone you wish to win over, there isn't a true love potion known to date that would achieve what you desire."

Claude stared at her.

"Ah," Beletris exclaimed softly, finally understanding the purpose of his question. "Were you perhaps concerned about any mind-altering potions or spells being utilized on you? I can assure you that your mother had seen to it that you would be well protected against such attacks."

Claude nodded. This was as he'd expected.

But if my mind was thinking clearly, why then? What sort of benefit or incentive could Luca Frey have provided me with to incite me to protect and save him at all costs? It had to be something quite worthwhile.

However, aside from his birth year and the falling out with his older brother, the intel Beletris gathered lacked insight into what could have prompted his past self to write that message.

A soft knock echoed from the door, breaking Claude's train of thought.

"Master Claude, I've brought your afternoon juice," a servant's muffled voice called from the other side.

Claude gave Beletris a nod, and she stepped over to open the door. The servant entered, balancing on a tray a tall crystal glass filled with a pale, light green liquid that shimmered faintly in the light. He handed the glass to Beletris with a small bow.

"It's made from celery root, knotfig, and lion grass," the servant boy explained before quietly slipping out, shutting the door behind him with a faint thud.

The scent of fresh herbs filled Claude's nostrils as Beletris set the drink on the table before him.

"Thank you." Claude lifted the glass, the cool surface of the crystal chilling his fingertips. He took a deep gulp, feeling the bitterness of the freshly squeezed juice wash over his tongue. The subtle heat of lion grass lingered at the back of his throat, leaving a faint tingling sensation as he swallowed.

Beletris watched with a faint grimace as he downed the rest of the drink. "There must be easier ways to live a long and healthy life," she muttered in disdain.

Claude wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and set the empty glass down with a soft clink. "It's really not that bad. You should give it a try sometime."

Beletris shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line.

Claude leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming absently on the table as his eyes followed the green remains dripping slowly down the sides of the glass. The pale liquid clung to the crystal in thin streaks, and a thin film of pulp collected at the bottom.

The taste was hardly praiseworthy, but Claude was willing to undergo some minor discomfort for a longer lifespan.

He paused his drumming on the table.

Perhaps that's it? A long and healthy life—maybe Luca Frey is the key to it. That's why he is a 'treasure.'

He mulled over the idea, his gaze drifting toward the report on his desk. His mind wandered to the question of what he would trade for someone's complete protection. His own longevity was the only thing that seemed significant enough to tip the scales.

But 'at all costs' suggests even my own life is worth sacrificing. Why would Luca Frey's life matter so much to me? What could be more valuable than my own life?

With an irritated sigh, Claude lifted the report back in front of himself as if the answer would magically appear as a bit of insight he had somehow overlooked.

And what exactly am I supposed to protect him from?

He clenched his jaw.

For fuck's sake. Why couldn't my past self have added more detail instead of just doubling down on the insistence? Unless... I knew I wouldn't do it unless it was heavily emphasized.

His eyes wandered over toward Beletris, noticing that she was preoccupied herself, speaking into her red mana communication broach.

"What is it?" Claude inquired.

Beletris looked up. "Luca Frey is on the move. He had left Genise."

"Which way did he head to?" Claude asked, standing up from his seat.

"It looks to be toward the Town of Ascot," Beletris replied.

Claude nodded, smiling. "As expected, he's going to visit his grandmother."

Ruth Arankagul. He knew her death was imminent—her passing was important enough to be inked among his tattoos.

"Prepare our fastest carriage," he ordered, walking out of the room. "There's only one road between Genise and the Town of Ascot. We'll be able to intercept him if we leave now."

Beletris's eyes widened as she quickly moved after him. "Master Claude, is that wise?"

"Perhaps not," Claude muttered, "but something far more important is at stake."

He didn't expect Beletris to understand.

'Luca Frey is a treasure. Protect him. Save him at all costs.'

The command echoed in his mind, unsettling in its vagueness and urgency. What could have possibly made him want to protect the younger brother of that Micah Frey? To what benefit? Against what threat? And when?

I need answers.

Sometimes, the simplest solution was the best solution.

I'll just ask him directly. And if it turns out he somehow did manipulate me….

Claude cracked his knuckles.