「…That's how she said it went down, at least.」

Fost finishes retelling Nona's story, and takes another large gulp from his fancy mug.

「Huuuuuh. Convenient timing for the guy to walk in at just the right moment. So are you going to bust her out?」

Straf asks with a smirk, still keeping his head propped up on his hand. He looks at Fost with his brows furrowed in amusement full of sneering ridicule.

「We can't. It's been a few days now, we never had any opportunity to. She already has been sentenced to death, and she's being watched like a hawk. We're lucky I've had the chance to talk with her through the cell window.」

Fost shakes his head, and his stringy black hair limply flaps about, whipping his chin coated by a five o'clock shadow.

「What, you can't slip her a lockpick through the window bars or something?」

Straf straightens up out of his boredom-filled slump on the table, staring at Fost with a baffled look on his face.

「There's a guard keeping an eye on all the doors inside. That was my first suggestion, Straf. And there's another thing…」

The grungy man shakes his head again, and takes another large gulp.

「Another thing? What, magic tracking collars that explode if she leaves?」

Straf echoes, raising his brows with mildly piqued interest.

「…She said not to do anything ridiculous for her sake. It's pretty bad, Straf. She sounds like she already gave up.」

Fost grimaces, looking down at the table while covertly grinding his teeth together.

「How so? It sounds like she doesn't want you to bust through the wall to get her.」

Straf shrugs, staring at Fost with a blank expression.

「My life might have been pretty short, but it was fulfilled. I wanted for nothing and could buy all the stupid stuff I wanted to. It was a really fun time, even I didn't get to do everything I wanted to.」

Fost says, and takes multiple large gulps. Some of the liquid drips down his chin.

Clunk.

He slams the empty mug down on the table and looks Straf in the eyes.

「That's what she told me. She's talking about herself like she's done and dealt with. She's just sitting there, curled up and waiting for death…」

Fost says, and his eyes drift back down to the table for a moment before looking at the rest of the thieves. The atmosphere of the room is very somber. Quiet and slow conversations are very sparsely ongoing across the makeshift room in the disused waterway.

「…She's as smart as a particularly clever rock, and we all know she got what was coming for her, but… Everyone's down because of this. She's dare I say it, the soul of this guild-」

「Corporation.」

Straf quickly corrects Fost, causing him to glance at him for a second. He returns his eyes back to the room in general and continues.

「…This thing. She always butts in and sticks her nose where it doesn't belong, but that's why everyone's like this now. It's peaceful and quiet. Like a graveyard…」

「I dunno, my experience of a graveyard was different.」

Straf crosses his arms as he recalls the rattling skeletons in the fog. Fost ignores his comment and continues.

「…This guild-」

「Corporation.」

「…Corporation, will die with her, Straf. It'll be as quiet as a grave. It'll just be sticky-fingers coming and going, minding their own fucking business, because no stupid girl with an empty head will pry in and ask what they're up to.」

Fost says, after being corrected by Straf once more. He grips at his fancy mug, tighter and tighter.

「Hey! Get me another!」

His head snaps to the side and he lifts his mug.

「Boss, I think you've had enough for today…」

A man hesitantly protests with his brows furrowed.

Slam!

「Don't fuck with me and get me another!」

Fost screams at the man, slamming his fist on the table. The room goes completely silent for a few moments, as all eyes are on Fost after his outburst. The man reluctantly opens another bottle with a loud pop of the cork, and the rest of the people take it as a cue to go about their night again.

「Make it your last one, boss.」

The man says as the drink gently fizzes, foaming up in the mug while he pours it. Fost doesn't reply, and instead gives him a single apologetic nod when he finishes pouring.

「Straf, can I ask you a favor? A big favor.」

Fost says, blankly looking at the foam in his mug.

「You can ask and I already know what it is and you seriously could have spared me the time listening to you.」

Straf shoots back a rapid and monotone answer, with his arms crossed and mouth slanted.

「…Right. I'm sure you already know. Frankly, it's asking the impossible, but you've already pulled something off that I would have called impossible once. I don't know how you've done it, but you snatched the scepter right from under the king's nose…」

「Uh-huh…」

Straf nods, trying to hide a grin as he looks away.

「…You've pulled off a miracle once, so you might pull another one off. Can I ask you to save Nona?」

Fost says, staring at Straf with visibly inebriated eyes directly into his. Moments later, he brings the mug to his lips and begins chugging the contents. Straf raises his brows, nodding in recognition of his rapid drinking proficiency.

「I'll do it tomorrow.」

Clank! Krrrk!

Fost slams his mug down on the table and shoots up to his feet, causing the chair's legs to noisily grate on the stone below. With his arms still crossed and an unexcited expression on his face, Straf looks at Fost's hands reaching to grip and twist his shirt in their grasp.

「She's getting executed tomorrow! With two murderers, as if she was as bad as them!」

Fost growls at Straf, once again bringing the entire room's attention to himself.

「I know, I said I'll do it tomorrow-」

Straf tries to explain, rolling his eyes.

「You bastard! I know you can do it! I know you can easily pull it off, but you refuse to!? You have the skills needed, but you don't want to!?」

He continues screaming at Straf with his clenched teeth bared.

「I don't feel like doing it today…」

Straf shrugs his shoulders, causing Fost to scowl in anger. He lets go of Straf's shirt with one hand, only to ball it up into a fist.

「You fffucking…」

Fost seethes through his teeth with a glare of pure hatred at Straf, who is still nonchalantly sitting in his chair, his arms crossed in a petulantly stubborn fashion.

「Boss! Lay the fuck off!」 「Boss!」

「Boss, you're going over the fucking line! Calm down!」

Multiple men rush in and grab hold of Fost's wrist, and physically get in the way between him and Straf. He doesn't resist, but remains immovable like a statue despite the forceful pulling and pushing back towards his chair.

「Boss, sit down. You've had too much to drink. Calm down.」

The man who poured him the drink says in a calm, commanding tone. Fost lowers his fist, still scowling, and finally lets go of Straf.

「Sit down. We're all pissed off, boss, it's not just you. Keep a cool head, alright?」

He continues. Fost sits down and hangs his head as he slumps with his elbows on the table. The man pats Fost's shoulder, and they return back to what they were doing before his outburst. Straf remains nonchalant and unbothered.

「…I'm sorry. Forget it. Asking you to do the impossible and getting mad because you don't want to is ridiculous.」

Fost says with a large sigh, then gulps down the remainder of his fancy bejeweled mug's contents. He slams it down on the table with much less force than before and stands up, then heads for the exit.

「I said I'll do it tomorrow though.」

Straf says over his shoulder, and Fost either ignores him or doesn't hear it.

「Boss! Where are you going!?」

The man notices Fost is leaving, and calls out towards him.

「I'm going for a fuckin' walk.」

He replies, powerwalking out.

「Boss!」

「I'm not your fucking boss, he is.」

Fost says, nodding his head towards Straf without turning around. He disappears behind a corner to depart somewhere. The men who restrained him collectively sigh.

「Maaaaan. This is the problem with alcoholism and poverty. If only there was a good way to get rid of the poor…」

Straf ruminates, precariously rocking in his chair not intended for rocking.

Clunk.

「Anyone know when is that girl getting the rope? Can you pat me on the shoulder like a couple minutes before she's meant to swing?」

Straf asks the sticky-fingers in the room as he gets into his meditative pose on his chair…

…

In the capital's orphanage, after nightfall…

Crrrreaaaaaak… Thud.

Mary rushes in to the front door when she hears the telltale sound of the hinges.

「Niklaus! Welcome back! How was work today? I just laid out the food!」

Mary asks with a warm smile, wiping her hands into a rag, still wearing a flour-coated apron.

「…I'm not hungry…」

Niklaus replies slipping his boots off. He throws them aside near the many, many pairs of shoes of varying sizes beside the door.

「Huh? Did you eat something at work?」

Mary tilts her head, blinking at Niklaus as he stumbles towards an open door towards a side corridor.

「…No, I'm just not hungry…」

He mutters out, blankly staring at the creaking wooden floor of the orphanage as he heads in the direction of his room in a wobbling, stumbling step. Mary's eyes widen, and she absentmindedly stops wiping her hands on the rag.

「…Niklaus? Is everything okay?」

She asks as memories of the man before her flood her conscious thought. A ragged, dead-eyed boy stumbles through the entrance hallway with his hands reddened, and his shirt coated in droplets of crimson, blankly staring ahead with a look of fatigue and something else mixed in on his face.

She blinks, the same boy is stumbling before her as a man. He stops in the threshold to the side corridor and looks at her with a blank expression, and eyes staring somewhere far behind her face.

「…Yeah…」

He says with a slow nod, and stumbles further into the corridor…

…

Late at night, nearby Ossen's dungeon…

「…And he's still insisting that he's in the right, so I'm like, alright come along then- Tsk.」

A guard is telling a story to another guard walking beside him, halberds in hand as they patrol around the large building strongly resembling a fortress. He clicks his tongue as he crosses the corner with his partner, only to see a stringy-haired man sitting on the ground with his back against the wall.

They walk up to him, taking a spot on each side of the man, effectively surrounding him with his back to the wall.

「Hey.」

The guard says, staring at the man. His head hangs low, and there is no response.

Thwack!

「Hey, I said!」

The guard yells, giving the man a rough kick in his feet. Only then he gives a sign of life and begins moving.

「Huh? Wha?」

The man looks up at the guards, and his stubbled jaw hangs slack. The two guards exchange glances, before looking back at the smelly man sitting before them.

「You're that guy from before. Didn't I tell you that you can't be here the last time?」

The guard remarks, vaguely recognizing the man, if only by his stench of alcohol alone.

「Oooohhh, cut me some slack, will ya? I ain't got nowhere to sleep, what's it matter if I sleep here or there?」

He slurs, spreading his hands and shrugging his shoulders. He wobbles enough to almost fall over, despite already sitting.

「Up and out.」 「Get out of here.」

Both of the guards command him, one of them adding a nod of his head towards the front of the dungeon.

「Ahhhhhh leave me be, I ain't hurtin' anyone.」

He waves his hand dismissively and lowers his head, crossing his arms and wiggling his torso a little to tuck himself in without a blanket. The guards let out an exasperated sigh, and they signal to each other to pick the man up.

「Whuey! Come'n! What's the problem!? Just lemme sleep!」

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Without physically resisting, the man protests as the guards pick him up by each of his arms and start pulling him to the front. After dragging his feet on the ground for a brief moment, he eventually gives up and stands up to walk alongside them.

「If I see you here one more time, you'll be sleeping inside. Let's see how you like that.」

The guard threatens the smelly man with an annoyed grimace on his face.

「I'm down on my luck! It's not my fault!」 「Yeah yeah yeah, fuckin' right…」

As he begins explaining the nature of his predicament, the other guard holding him immediately starts muttering in disdain and shaking his head. The guards arrive to the front of the building, adjust their grip on the man, and violently shove him forward.

Thud.

「Ugh!」

He grunts as he stumbles and falls over sideways, rolling a few paces on the ground.

「And don't fucking come back!」

The guard shouts, dusting his hands off. They turn back, and continue onward on their patrol path.

「Getting fucking tired of that guy.」

「Yeah. Down on his luck and has to sleep outside, but always has coin for a drink.」

The guards mumble and grumble, shaking their heads.

「Yeah, fucking typical. Fucking drunkards.」

The guard scoffs, partially amused and partially frustrated. They disappear behind the corner of the building.

「…There has to be some fucking way to get her out.」

Fost says to himself, getting up from the ground and dusting his clothes off. He looks at the massive building with a scowl, clenching his fist.

「Tsk…」

He clicks his tongue, and begins walking away.

《There has to be some way, but I'm too fucking stupid to find it. Too drunk and stupid.》

Fost thinks, slinking into one of the many alleyways with wide and rapid steps…

…

The next afternoon, in the Hangman's Square…

Nona is lead up the gallows stairs. The special team member's hand has a firm grip on her relatively thin arm. In front of her are two men, one of which is already having a noose tightened around his neck.

「There. Can you take her off my hands now?」

He asks the man with a black pointy sack over his head with two eyeholes cut into it, as he shoves Nona forward towards him.

「Yeah. Leave 'em to me.」

He nods his covered head and forcefully positions Nona right beneath the waiting noose.

「Well… Good luck in your next life, girlie.」

The special team member says, shrugging with his hands as he parts with a smile that bears very shallow pity. He descends down the stairs as another man holding a piece of paper gets out of the way for him. They nod politely at each other as he passes, and the other man climbs up.

The sacked man slips a noose on Nona's neck. His arms, almost wider than her torso, move to tighten the noose. He yanks at the knot, causing her head to recoil from the rough movement.

「Ack! Too tight!」

Nona winces as the rough rope fiber digs into the skin around her neck and painfully squeezes her throat.

「Oh yeah? Wait 'til we get started, he he he he…」

He gives the rope a few more weak tugs, chuckling quietly in amusement at Nona's expense. The man with the piece of paper takes the center of the gallows, and looks at the hangman over his shoulder.

「Can we start?」

He asks, and the black sack nods in reply as its muscular arms grip a nearby lever. The man turns back to the mass of people gathered in front of the gallows, and gives his paper a quick glance.

「Standing before you are criminals sentenced to death in a court of law…」

The man begins reading with a loud voice, and Nona's amber eyes focus on the crowd as well.

《There's so many people… Why?》

She looks with confused eyes and furrowed brows at the townspeople. Many of them stand with their arms crossed, and a few with an added slanted mouth.

「…Fair trial and the right to defend themselves…」

The man continues reading, as Nona glances at him from behind. Her orange eyes catch a familiar figure in the distance, far behind the crowd.

《Huh? Fost?》

She blinks in disbelief as she locks eyes with Fost over the crowd. He shrugs his shoulders, lifting his hands to spread them hopelessly, only to drop them the next second. They pat the sides of his legs, and he shakes his head at her.

《I get it. I know you tried, you stupid old man. I bet you were stumbling around the city racking your brain to figure something out. It's alright.》

She smiles, covertly shaking her head. Fost breaks his gaze, looking away at the ground. He turns to the side, taking one step, before glancing up at Nona with a pained frown. He looks down once more, shaking his head as he places his hands in his pockets and walks away. Nona sighs.

「…Having failed to defend themselves and declared undoubtedly guilty-」

「Fucking hang her already!」 「Get on with it!」

Some discontent voices rise out of the crowd, shouting at the man reading the paper.

「…Ladies and gentlemen, I know you want a spectacle, but I am the court's justiciar! I have work to do, and there is justice to be done!」

「Then do some justice and let's see her swing!」 「Yeah!」

More hateful voices come towards the gallows. The justiciar's shoulders slump, and he glances over his shoulder at Nona for a moment.

「…I will try to be quick about it. Do not interrupt me again, it's a crime!… Ahem!」

He showily clears his throat, and furrows his brow at the paper. Nona looks at the rowdy crowd, perplexed.

《…But I only stole from the rich? Did they all come to see me die? Why? What did I do to them?-》

「Ah-」

A look of realization appears on her face. She blinks multiple times, blankly staring ahead of the gallows as she realizes the obvious.

《…I'm going to die, aren't I?》

An uncomfortable warmth starts in the center of her chest and spreads outward, and her heart begins to thump faster.

《…Why am I thinking about this now? I already knew. I accepted it in the dungeon, so why?…》

Nona ponders her shaking, tied hands and her faintly chattering teeth.

「…Thomas Heartwood, who murdered his supposed friend in cold blood over a game of cards!」

The justiciar points his palm at the first man in the gallows, without bothering to look at him.

「He cheated! And I was drunk! It's not my fault, I didn't mean to kill him!」

The convicted murderer yells towards the crowd, causing shaking of heads. He screams more excuses, but quiets down when he realizes the crowd isn't buying it.

《I even told Fost I feel like my life is complete. I've had plenty of fun, so why?》

Various past thefts and close calls flash by Nona's amber eyes. Her heart begins to beat faster, despite merely standing on the gallows.

「Henrick Heimer, who savagely murdered a man in his home and cut his head off!」

The justiciar points to the second man in the same manner as the previous one.

「I caught him in bed with my wife! Fuck him! I'd have done it again!」

The man spits onto the gallows with a scowl on his face.

「All of you would have done the same in my place!」

He shouts out to the crowd, nodding his head at them. A brief and quiet applause begins, surprising both the justiciar and Henrick.

「…You're alright! I hope at least yous marriage goes well!」

Henrick shrugs his shoulders, completely unapologetic.

「…And Nona Bounder!…」

「Huh?」

Nona snaps out of her blank stare forward when she hears her name. Her frightened eyes jump to the justiciar, who is pointing his palm at her while facing the crowd, same as the men.

「…Whose string of thefts is far too long for me to list in a reasonable amount of time! But rest assured, under the queen's authority, the court has demonstrated her crimes caused irreparable damage!」

The justiciar continues, glancing up from the paper at the crowd. Most of the people gathered are nodding their heads or grinning as he speaks. Nona silently shakes her head at his back.

《No! That's not it! I would have paid it off! I would have worked it off! They wouldn't listen! Potential profits!? I deserve to die for profit that doesn't exist!?》

Nona clenches her clattering teeth in a mix of anguish and anger. Her heart sounding like a rapid drumbeat in her ears, each breath she takes is not enough air for her. Her breath becomes faster each time it is drawn, on top of becoming ragged and uneven.

《I'm going to die? Why? I didn't kill anyone! I didn't kill anyone, so why!? Why are my hands and legs shaking now if I was fine in the dungeon!? Why now!? I was at peace!》

Nona thinks as her orange eyes jump all over the crowd, the black sack with two eyes, the justiciar monotonously delivering a speech, and the two murderers next to her.

「…Unforgivable crimes, through the guilty verdict of Ossen court and on authority of Queen Cycelia vested in me as a court justiciar, I shall bear official witness to the sentence, and the named convicted shall be hanged until dead!」

The justiciar proclaims, folding the paper and placing it in his pocket halfway through his final sentence.

《…Did I lie to myself? I don't want to die. There's so much I haven't done yet. I haven't had a boyfriend. I haven't even had my first kiss! How will I have grandkids like my dad wanted-!?》

Nona's realizes something again, and hangs her head low, as low as the rope will allow her to.

《…That's right. He'd be sad that I turned out to be a thief…》

With a dejected expression, she briefly recalls her father repairing shoes in his shop. The justiciar walks up to Thomas, and tugs at his rope to check for its tightness. He walks up to Henrick and does the same.

Finally, he walks up to Nona and tugs at her knot.

「…Too tight, even.」

He shrugs with a grimace, and moves to take place nearby the headsman. Nona lifts her head to take one last look at her surroundings. A hostile crowd, two unapologetic murderers, an indifferent justiciar, and a sadistic sack with big arms. The gravity of the situation finally fully dawns on her.

《…I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die!》

「…I don't want to die…」

Nona whimpers, holding back tears with chattering teeth.

「Shoulda have thought of that earlier.」

The sack with eyes quips, and turns its eyeholes to the justiciar.

「Can I?」

It asks, and the justiciar widens his mouth into a perfectly straight line of a smile, gesturing with his hand towards the convicted as if he was inviting the headsman into a home.

Thud thud thud thud! Crrreak!

Their attention is abruptly pulled away from the morbid ceremony by a man who nonchalantly struts up the steps. The justiciar runs forward to the center of the gallows as the crowd gasps in shock at the sudden development.

「Who are you!? Interfering with an execution is a capital crime in and of itself!-」

The justiciar shouts as he draws his sword, pointing its tip at the interloper.

「Now hold the fuck up!」

Straf shouts with a grin on his face, walking towards the justiciar unfazed.

「…Eh?」

《…Why is he here? Am I already dead? Is this the afterlife? Is this just a dream?》

Nona stares at Straf, blinking in disbelief with her brows furrowed. Guards around the gallows notice the commotion and start pushing through the crowd to get to the stairs.

「Straf. Katastrof. Vindict. Minister of Security.」

Straf enunciates, pulling out an identification out of his [Portable Storage]. It bears a strong resemblance to an intelligence agency ID, or perhaps that of a police bureau.

「This is against the law! You can't just interfere with-」

The justiciar squints in confusion, shaking his head a little. He quickly recovers, but then Straf shoves the identification in his face. In a two-part, folding leather case much like a wallet, it holds a rigid plate with a color photography of Straf's head and shoulders.

Glaring directly at the viewer, Straf's face is deathly serious. Unable to call it a scowl in good faith, but the idea of finding an upward twist in his lips being ridiculous, one could call his expression a veritable grave face.

On top of it all, he is visibly wearing a pitch-black suit jacket, a pristinely white dress shirt and a black tie of equally terrifying darkness. On the rest of the card, various details are listed in a fashion similar to the Adventurers' Guild identification plate. In fact, the information is mirrored.

Below the white plate, a large golden badge prominently displays embossed letters MOS above its stamped graphic. A hand holding a raised dagger, and another hand resembling that of a dragon's clutching onto the dagger hand's wrist.

This entire graphic is set upon something that looks like an eye, with a vertically slit pupil in the background ominously watching it all. After taking a good look at it, the justiciar is properly confused.

「Don't try to tell me shit about the law. I am the law.」

Straf lowers the badge and shoves his face into the justiciar's face, growling with a scowl. Straf unopposed and nonchalant proceeds towards the hangman. He raises the badge, flashing it in front of his eyeholes.

「Nobody's getting hanged.」

He declares with confidence, and as if discarding trash, throws the badge back into [Portable Storage] which suddenly appears off to his side, and disappears just as quick.

「…Well except these two, I guess.」

Straf glances at the convicted murderers and looks back at the hangman, nodding his head at the criminals.

「Huh!? And why should I listen to you? I don't even know you! Minister of Security? What even is that!?」

The black sack with eyes protests.

「Okay, let me ask you a question…」

Lowering his head, Straf sighs in frustration and places his hand in his pocket. Shortly after, he lifts his head back up and looks at the hangman with a deathly serious grimace.

「…Have you ever met Niklaus from the Ministry of Security?」

Straf asks with a chilling glare.

「What? No, I don't even know the guy!-」

The sack's eyeholes fly left and right as it denies. Straf takes a step closer, invading its personal space as he shoves his face into its eyeholes.

「…Would you like to?」

With his brows raised, Straf asks a vaguely threatening question…