Into Her Embrace

That night.

Gilan packed up his personal belongings in the rented apartment, boxing everything away.

Aside from two large suitcases of clothes, there were some occult items, mainly alchemical pharmaceutical apparatus.

These things were not particularly valuable, but Gilan did not want to casually throw them away.

There were many odds and ends such as bottles and jars, most of them fragile, so he planned to let the movers handle them tomorrow.

As for the projector, it was contraband expressly forbidden within the Empire and should not be seen by others. Gilan wrapped it in a black cloth and sealed it inside a large cardboard box.

The movers would have to be insane to open it for inspection without permission.

Given Gilan's current status, even if it were discovered, he would not face any punishment. Still, appearances had to be maintained. He had only just taken office and did not want to invite trouble over this.

After finishing up, Gilan took a bath.

He wore a loose black robe, his damp golden hair spilling over his shoulders, giving him an air of noble indolence.

Gilan sat by the table and leafed through some of the occult books he had acquired in the past.

Suddenly, for some reason, he thought of the vial of Windmill Cat blood that Caesar had given him at the banquet, as well as the final words he had said...

Wishing him sweet dreams tonight?

At first glance, there was nothing unusual about it, like the casual concern of an elder.

But the person who had said it was the Chancellor, the other self of the Crippled King, February Director, left behind in the mortal world.

Gilan felt that He would not have added such a remark for no reason. There had to be some deeper meaning