If Lancer had been in high spirits before, then by the time they actually started "selecting goods," his mood had plummeted into silence—dragged down by an irreconcilable clash of values.
In this world, no one found slavery unusual; any hesitation people showed came from how unpleasant the slaves looked.
Those considered "quality goods" were presentable enough, but the ordinary ones barely had enough clothing to cover themselves. Most visitors came from well-off households, and sights like these would inevitably shake them. But Lancer was different—he was disgusted on principle alone.
Yet after that initial indignation, he could only smile bitterly. What was the point of his disgust? Setting aside the question of whether he had the power to abolish slavery—even the world he originally came from hadn't completely eradicated it. He'd simply chosen to close his eyes to it.
Having completely lost interest, he gave a brief farewell and left.
With his mood ruined, he returned straight to the Imperial Guard's barracks. He did think about drinking to vent his frustration, but alcohol was forbidden in the camp. Besides, he was cautious by nature—he wasn't about to break any rules. The idea fizzled out immediately.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to him, shortly after he left, the companions who had gone to "enjoy themselves" returned to the barracks as well—barely later than he did.
When they reported the night's events to General Budo, the general simply nodded.
Given Lancer's strength, he normally wouldn't have warranted such close attention. But Budo still didn't fully trust him. Tonight's "treat" had been a test. The results were satisfactory: at least Lancer wasn't colluding with foreign tribes.
However, Lancer's sympathy irritated Budo. To him, no matter how skilled a fighter, sympathy for the enemy was utterly meaningless.
...
The next morning, when Lancer woke and was summoned by a messenger to Budo's office, he was thoroughly confused. Usually, soldiers were called in for going to questionable establishments. Why was he being called in for not doing anything?
"According to tradition, our Imperial Guard regularly sends soldiers to various border armies for short-term training. I intend to assign you to the Western Army. Any objections?"
Any objections? What objections could I possibly have? The sentence sounded like a question, but it clearly wasn't meant to be answered.
"I'll follow any arrangement you make, sir!"
"Very good. Here's your letter of introduction…"
Watching Budo pull a pre-written letter straight from his drawer, Lancer's mouth twitched. Sure, he couldn't object—but really, at least pretend you hadn't prepared this ahead of time.
Of course, he misunderstood Budo. Dispatching Imperial Guard soldiers to the borders truly was routine. Those letters were always prepared in advance.
But Budo's intention in sending Lancer was obvious. Though Lancer was skilled, his ignorance of the Empire's affairs—thanks to his isolated "rural" background—meant he didn't fully grasp the conflicts with foreign tribes. Budo wanted him to gain firsthand experience. He firmly believed that any loyal, hot-blooded imperial citizen who witnessed what those tribes did would never sympathize with them again.
On the other side, once Lancer received the letter, he immediately headed to the capital's relay station. He had no attachment to the capital. Anywhere was the same. After all, this was just another "world" to him.
...
At the relay station, he quickly located the military supply convoy. After greeting the soldiers, he joined them.
Along the way, he secretly hoped for something like a bandit attack or a "hero rescues the maiden" moment. Unfortunately, after several uneventful days, nothing close to dramatic happened. One night, while drinking by the campfire, he finally voiced his question aloud.
The escorting soldiers exchanged looks and burst into laughter.
"Haha~ Lancer-san, you really like your jokes. Local troops regularly patrol the official roads. Even if bandits were around, they'd only dare target ordinary caravans. Once they spot army flags, they scatter. The last time a military convoy was attacked was years ago—and those attackers were foreign soldiers fleeing the border."
"We're still far from the frontier. It's perfectly safe. Relax."
Their reasoning sounded solid, yet Lancer couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
...
Lancer always trusted his instincts—especially when something felt wrong.
Back when he'd secretly played games on his phone in class, a sudden chill down his spine would warn him to hide it in his sleeve just before his homeroom teacher, the discipline director, or even the principal walked by. In the Tokyo Ghoul world, whenever he felt eyes on him, a Ghoul attack always followed.
Tonight, ever since the soldiers reassured him, that same unease lingered. Their explanation made sense, yet he felt they were overlooking something crucial.
Lying atop one of the wagons, his eyes suddenly snapped open.
He finally realized what they'd missed—
The Revolutionary Army.
In the original story, their slogan was always "Overthrow the corrupt Empire!", but their first appearance clearly predated Minister Honest's rise to power…
At this point in history, the Empire hadn't yet reached full decadence. If they would later become the "Revolutionary Army," then right now they were simply "rebels."
Grabbing his lance, Lancer leapt off the supply wagon. Immediately, he spotted several black-clad figures creeping silently toward the camp.
Both sides froze. Clearly, the attackers hadn't expected to run into him so soon—and Lancer hadn't expected a real ambush either.
After a tense heartbeat, Lancer flicked his lance, letting it unfold with a sharp snap, while one attacker hurriedly raised a whistle—
Fweee!!
The piercing sound summoned several more black-clad figures from the shadows. Seeing their bloodstained daggers, Lancer already guessed the fate of the others.
But because he'd appeared early, several guards stumbled out of their tents as well—disheveled, confused, and utterly unprepared. The sharp, metallic smell of blood snapped them awake almost instantly.
Enemy attack!
The words flashed simultaneously through everyone's mind.