[The Spacetime That Might Exist] A Senior's Dignity

It was evening.

Sense stood in front of the bookshelf, a strand of his long brown hair curling around a heavy tome as he smoothly pushed it into the empty space on the top shelf. The hair then fell back down to his feet without making a sound.

She didn't turn around.

"Haven't Lanto and Ubel returned yet?"

Falsh leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed. He pushed up his round-framed glasses, his gaze calmly fixed on her from behind the lenses.

"Unusual magical fluctuations and building damage were reported last night in the Old Empire Square area. Preliminary analysis of the remaining magical traces at the scene matches the magical reaction of the standard equipment of the Magical Special Forces."

Sense slowly turned around. Her thick, long brown hair slid across the floor with the movement, making a soft rustling sound. Her face was expressionless, but her eyebrows were slightly lowered.

Why are those guys in the Imperial Capital?

The motive is unclear.

Sense's brows furrowed slightly, then relaxed, returning to her usual calm and weary expression. She walked to the window and looked out at the street scene of the Imperial Capital.

"This contradicts the intelligence Linel reported beforehand. Based on past experience, the main force of the Magical Special Forces should be deployed near the border to strengthen vigilance during the National Day holiday. Precisely because of such a major national event as the National Day banquet, the border actually needs more manpower to be stationed."

She turned her face to look at Falsh.

"This intelligence gathering plan was formulated under this premise."

Falsh lowered his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a subtle adjustment that made him appear to move from a state of pure rest into a more focused conversational posture.

"It sounds like someone deliberately withdrew this force from the border and transferred it to the Imperial Capital. The objective is clear; it's not a routine rotation."

The room was quiet for a moment.

In the distance, the faint sounds of a celebration band rehearsing could be heard; the drumbeats and horns mingled together, drifting over from several streets away, sounding blurry and unreal.

Sense withdrew his gaze and looked at another tightly closed door on the inside of the room.

"... never mind."

She walked toward the door, a few strands of hair, as if possessing their own life, quietly peeked out from behind her, deftly winding to the doorknob, entwining around it, and then gently turning it open. The door hinges made a short "creak" sound.

"If the enemy were Magical Special Forces, they'd likely be under control by now," she said, without stopping. "I'll go bring them back."

Her lips curled up into a smug smile, her tone carrying a hint of self-righteousness.

"Perfect, it also allows me to show off my seniority to Ubel a little."

Falsh watched her silhouette as she walked towards the door, remaining silent for two seconds. His gaze behind his glasses calmly followed her movements.

"You actually care about such trivial matters... Besides, if you get involved, won't things just get more complicated, Sense?"

Sense stopped at the doorway, turning half his face to the side.

"What's the meaning?"

"The Magical Special Forces," Falsh his glasses, "They hate you to the core."

Sense's face remained expressionless; even the slight smile that had appeared moments before vanished. She blinked, her long brown eyelashes fluttering.

"Hate me? That's surprising. I'm not like those guys; I've never killed anyone."

"Hatred doesn't necessarily require bloodshed." Falsh's gaze pierced through his glasses, calmly looking at her. "Your very existence is enough to be an eyesore to some. With Lady Serie about to arrive, keeping a low profile is the best option."

He adjusted his posture slightly, lifting his back away from the wall and standing straighter, continuing his analysis in that steady tone.

"I think Linel will intervene. She's still in the Imperial Capital, and her position makes things easier. Observing her first might be a more prudent approach..."

"Linel?"

Sense interrupted him. She curled her lips into a sneer, her expression undisguised indifference.

"Who knows? That woman hates trouble the most. When it really comes down to it, she'll definitely prioritize her own safety. She's always been that way."

Falsh fell silent again for a short while. Only the distant, indistinct music from outside the window and the two of them breathing softly filled the room.

"Your relationship is as bad as ever."

Sense didn't reply. She turned around, facing the empty space in the room, and seven or eight strands of brown hair instantly rose from her back, nimbly winding and curling, forming tight curls in the air, Imitation the posture of a boxer ready to pounce. The ends of her hair were taut, full of power.

Then, she twisted her waist sharply.

The hair strands that mimicked "fists" swiftly and cleanly punched forward with a distinct whooshing sound, leaving several crisp "straight punch" trajectories in the air. The movements were crisp and decisive, carrying a strange vitality and cuteness that was completely opposite to her indifferent expression.

"Next time I see her," she said, gesturing with her fist, "I'm definitely going to give her a good 'greeting'."

Falsh looked at her and remained silent for two seconds.

"... Please, don't fight every time you meet," he finally said, his tone tinged with helplessness. "Anyway, let's wait and see for now. Lady Serie will arrive in three days; in the meantime, it's best to avoid any unnecessary complications."

Sense turned her head and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then didn't insist. She pulled back the strand of hair that had been holding the door open; the hair slipped off the doorknob and slid lightly back into her cascade of hair. The door closed gently behind her with a soft "click."

The room returned to silence.