Future Diary Survival Game

Chapter 26: A Familiar Face - 3

I found myself nodding unconsciously.

“It’s far more convincing than when you said I was Berseum’s disciple.”

“Don’t bring that up again. I’m already reflecting on it.”

“Then how do you plan to find clues here?”

“That… I don’t have anything specific in mind. But since his birthplace should still exist, I intended to start my investigation there.”

“I’m surprised the Empire left it alone.”

“It was by His Majesty’s grace. After all, he was a man who made great contributions to the Empire. That’s why his family must still be living in his old home.”

“Though they must be under quite a lot of scrutiny,” Armelia added.

Despite it being her first time here, Armelia guided us without any difficulty.

She said she remembered hearing about the location of Berseum’s birthplace during one of the Princess’s history lessons.

Before long, we came face to face with a fairly large building.

A small garden within was neatly tended — it didn’t look like the home of a family once responsible for throwing the Empire into chaos.

After taking a deep breath as if slightly nervous, Armelia knocked on the door.

But there was no response from inside.

Then—

“Who are you?”

A woman’s voice came not from within the house, but from behind us.

She was glaring at us with a face full of suspicion.

A basket in both her hands suggested she was returning from shopping.

“Excuse me. We’re looking for Berseum—”

“Stop.”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t say that name in front of me. I’m sick and tired of it.”

Her pale face looked as if she might collapse any moment.

“I thought things had quieted down recently… When will that bastard’s curse finally end…”

“I think you’re misunderstanding. We have no intention of harming you. We just want to clear up a few questions.”

“……”

“Could you please let us in for a moment? It won’t take long.”

I asked as politely as I could, but her response was a cold rejection.

“Go back. I can’t let anyone inside who mentions that name. My mother’s been very ill lately as it is.”

“Your mother? Then, could it be…”

“…Yes. I’m that damned cult leader’s daughter. Unfortunately.”

For a moment, none of us could say anything.

Then—

With a creak, the tightly closed door suddenly opened.

The woman’s eyes sharply darted toward it.

“Bake. I told you never to open the door unless I said so.”

“I apologize, Miss. I heard your voice, so I thought—”

“You should’ve waited until I chased them away first. What if they tried to force their way in again like last time?”

Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes.

The man called Bake shook his head and spoke.

“That time, I wasn’t here. It’s fine now — I am.”

“Bake.”

“Please go inside, Miss. I’ll handle these people.”

“…Thank you. And I’m sorry, for losing my temper at the wrong people.”

“Not at all, Miss.”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

Even though they’d exchanged only a few words, the woman already looked exhausted.

It must have taken a great toll on her just to hear that name — Berseum.

Click.

Once the woman went inside, Bake stood before us with his back to the door.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

Armelia’s mouth fell open.

But I wasn’t quite as surprised.

The name I had confirmed last night through the “Administrator Page.”

I had already anticipated something like this.

Bake was an elderly man with white eyebrows and a well-groomed appearance.

He looked around sixty, but his posture was straight, and his movements disciplined.

“Y-you are… could it be—”

“Yes. It’s been a while.”

The first quest — Self-introduction.

That was where we had met an old gardener.

He had offered to reveal one of his professions, proposing that Armelia and I buy it from him.

“A gardener. Yes, that’s right. So, you’ve been tending this family’s garden all along.”

“That’s correct. But please be cautious — don’t mention that game during our conversation. Someone could be listening.”

“…Understood.”

“Shall we move elsewhere? My house is nearby.”

Without waiting for our response, he strode ahead.

Armelia followed stiffly behind him, like a wooden doll.

Poke.

Aina jabbed me in the side and asked,

“Who’s that?”

“The man I saved during the first quest.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll explain properly once we’re there.”

His house truly wasn’t far.

In less than ten minutes, we were seated across from the old man with a cup of tea in front of each of us.

After taking a light sip, he asked,

“How did you find your way here?”

“Hold on. Before that, let’s exchange names.”

“Hm? I’m not sure that’s wise. What if the next quest’s objective turns out to be to discover each other’s names?”

“In that case, I’ll surely win. Because I already know yours.”

“Ah, yes. The young lady mentioned it earlier. But you wouldn’t know my family name…”

“Berseum Ferux.”

At my words, the air froze.

The old man’s once-calm eyes widened to their limits.

His pupils trembled violently.

Drip.

Only when a bead of cold sweat rolled down Armelia’s chin did he finally speak.

“What did you just say?”

“I think I’d better introduce myself properly now, Mr. Berseum. And…”

I summoned the Administrator Page.

Then, I went over that information once more — the one I couldn’t believe even after rubbing my eyes yesterday.

Credibility: 30 points / 100 points

One-line evaluation interview about Mason:

: “A fine young man, rare to see these days.”

Insight useful to Mason:

: Magician.>

I said,

“The only magician of this era.”

During the First Quest, I had saved an old gardener.

He had already discovered two professions, and needed one last one.

I had sold him Mr. Forgotten’s profession.

The Diary Book had recognized that act as “saving” him.

Since the Administrator Page function didn’t exist back then, it must have simply recorded that event later, after the feature was added.

That’s why the total number of registered people was 155, not 154.

‘But still… Berseum, of all people.’

While I was still quietly amazed, I heard Armelia’s voice.

“Are you truly Berseum?”

“I have no idea what this young man is talking about. Forgive me, Your Highness, but you seem far too easily swayed.”

“…Your Highness? No wonder you’ve been using honorifics. I never told you I was a Princess.”

“Perhaps it was that Blacksmith, wasn’t it? He identified Mason as a servant and Your Highness as a Princess — and was eliminated. Magireta never bothered erasing memories of incorrect roles.”

“I don’t mean that. Have you not met me before? When you were invited to the Imperial Castle, His Majesty introduced us. Though I was still a child then.”

Berseum let out a small sigh.

“Forgive me once more, but Your Highness truly is too impressionable…”

“If someone else had said that, I would’ve laughed it off. But Mason is different.”

“You must trust him deeply.”

“Of course. He is my guide and my pathfinder.”

For some reason, my face felt a little hot.

But despite Armelia’s firm tone, Berseum remained unmoved.

“No matter. What isn’t true won’t become true.”

“At least your face isn’t your real one, though.”

Then Aina interrupted.

Berseum’s brow twitched.

“Your Highness is free to speak down to me, but you…”

“I’m from a noble family too, for your information. But that aside—what you’re wearing on your face, it’s a ‘mask,’ isn’t it?”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“I’m not talking about stage props or masks for plays. I mean a special disguise mask made for assassins.”

“……”

“Now that I look closer, I’m sure of it. It’s top-class — even rare among the Assassin Guild. Where did you get it?”

Having been cornered this far, Berseum could no longer hold out.

After hesitating several times, he let out a deep sigh.

And then—

Riiip.

He tore off his face!

In an instant, an entirely different old man appeared before me — one whose eyes faintly resembled the woman from earlier, with a warm, gentle expression.

He looked like the kind of grandfather who would call you over for a seat and share old stories whenever you visited next door.

‘Above all else—’

It was the exact same face drawn on the wanted posters that once covered the entire continent.

“Berseum.”

“Yes, Your Highness. You truly have fine companions.”

“I do have good taste.”

“I wasn’t referring to you, young man. You’re quite arrogant.”

Berseum left Aina speechless, then turned his gaze to me.

“How did you find out?”

“I have my ways.”

“That answer doesn’t suffice. Even before that girl mentioned the mask, you alone were already certain of my identity.”

“……”

“And ‘magician,’ you said. Ha. A magician.”

At those last words, both Armelia and Aina turned toward me, curiosity written all over their faces.

Honestly, it was difficult even for me to explain.

<- Insight useful to Mason:

: Magician.>

How was I supposed to explain that?

When I stayed silent, Armelia shifted the topic.

“How are you still alive? His Majesty executed you.”

“I escaped before the execution.”

“Whether escape is even possible aside, Berseum’s head was clearly severed.”

“Then the one executed wasn’t me, but a substitute. It’s a common trick in the Imperial Castle, isn’t it?”

At his cynical tone, Armelia’s face hardened.

Berseum took another sip of tea before continuing.

“They beheaded a body double who looked similar to me.”

“……”

“At that time, I was considered a great evil that had thrown the Empire into turmoil. If word got out that the criminal escaped the night before his execution, the Imperial Family would have suffered immense disgrace.”

“……”

“So I left a small note before escaping — saying that I would disappear and never again show myself within the Empire. His Majesty accepted the deal. The villain disappears, the Empire avoids humiliation.”

And everyone lived happily ever after.

Armelia clenched her fists tightly.

Her trembling hands looked pitiful.

I decided to change the subject.

“Then let’s get back to the real reason we’re here.”

“No.”

“…What?”

“Berseum is dead. I am merely Bake, a humble gardener.”

He spoke firmly.

“You must have seen my daughter earlier — her name is Eris.”

“……”

“She’s past thirty now, yet no one has agreed to be her partner. Who would ever want to be with Berseum’s daughter?”

“……”

“My wife couldn’t endure the village’s constant harassment and ostracism. She broke down completely. Now, she can’t even eat by herself.”

He spoke as if pouring out something buried deep within his chest.

“Berseum is dead. If he isn’t, then he must die.”

“……”

“That’s why I won’t say another word. There’s nothing left for Berseum to say.”

“……”

“Unless you wish to ask about gardening techniques.”

Clack.

He rose from his seat with a resolute motion.

Then, opening the door wide, he turned toward us.

“Leave.”