Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

The face that emerged from under the hood belonged to a man in his late thirties, his sharp eyes giving off a fierce glint. His short, neatly combed black hair and tightly pressed lips framed a stern expression, while several scars running across his cheeks marked him as someone who had seen more than his share of battlefields.

After a brief pause, the carriage window slowly slid open. The man who leaned out from the luxuriously decorated window gave the rider outside a condescending glance.

Inside, the man could be seen holding a champagne glass in one hand. Further in, a woman stood¹, bottle in hand, pouring more champagne into his glass. Her face was hidden from view, but the deep neckline of her dress made it clear what kind of company she was, likely one who made a living entertaining with drink and conversation.

But the man on horseback paid such distractions no mind. His gaze and words were reserved solely for the man inside the carriage.

“Delegate Fourier. According to the schedule, we should arrive in Cope Town by the 25th of the Second Blue Moon.”
“Hmm… but don’t you think, perhaps, that taking seven days from Dekenbel to Amukham is… rather excessive?”

As the rider reported the untroubled progress of their journey, the man addressed as Fourier exhaled loudly through his prominent nose, making no effort to hide his displeasure.

“Normally, that distance would take over ten days. We’re traveling on minimal rations; it’s already a forced march. Surely you understand that much?”
“Hmm, and yet! Do you realize how long it’s been since we left the royal capital, Meridies? Two months already! And still we haven’t even arrived at our destination! What an embarrassment! Do you not see that the people demand results, now, not later?!”
“With respect, sir, it’s only been two months. Bringing this delegation this far in that time is an achievement in itself, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the rider explained the harshness of their pace and his efforts to maintain it, Fourier still looked far from satisfied. At that point, another man, one with a sharp, nervous look in his eyes, leaned from deeper within the carriage and snapped irritably at the rider.

“Captain Meyers! You may be a knight, but don’t you think your tone toward the delegate is out of line?! Sir Fourier is, after all, the head of this entire mission!”
“Hmph, that’s quite all right, Clarke. Now, about this… Cope Town, was it? Are you sure it’s adequate? It’s just a backwater village of two thousand people, isn’t it? Will we really find enough supplies there? Wouldn’t Dekenbel have been a better choice?”

Fourier’s tanned face twisted with skepticism as he turned his attention back to Meyers.

“Cope Town may be our northernmost outpost, but it’s still a proper trading hub. It sees over ten thousand visitors a day. It’s hardly small. And it was your decision, Delegate, to travel light and fast, to reduce baggage for speed’s sake.”
“Hmph. Was it now? Well then, there’ll be no issue with procurement on site, yes?”
“Magritte has already made contact with Amukham ahead of us. She’s arranging everything for our arrival as we speak.”
“Ah, carrier pigeon reports, I assume… Very well, I’ll leave it to you, Chiliarch Cedric Meyers of the Twelfth Mobile Heavy Cavalry. Make haste.”
“Understood, Delegate Cameron Fourier of the Diplomatic Survey Corps.”

Cameron Fourier waved dismissively, signaling the end of the conversation, and the ornate window closed with a click. From within, Clarke glared daggers at Cedric Meyers until the very last sliver of light vanished through the narrowing crack.

“He never changes, does he? Always has to have the last word…”
“Let it go, Kyle. Think of it as his way of keeping us motivated, doesn’t sting so much that way, does it?”

As Cedric guided his horse away from the carriage, the man beside him, Kyle, trotted up alongside. The wind stirred Kyle’s soft blond hair as he furrowed his brows.

“If you say so, Knight-Commander.”
“It’s a fact. He’s the one who’s managed to lead this expedition this far, in this little time.”
“Maybe so, but it’s us doing the actual work, and those poor souls back there pulling all-nighters under his orders.”

Kyle gestured behind them, toward a much plainer wagon compared to Fourier’s lavish coach. Its benches were crammed with over ten men and women, all clerks of the delegation, their eyes sunken, their faces pale, looking through papers and following the plan. More than half of them had already fallen asleep due to the carriage’s swaying. They were all responsible for managing the funds and the schedule of the delegation. Riding ahead of them was their exhausted supervisor. He was constantly handed documents through the moving carriage window, verifying and signing them one after another. And due to riding alone, he couldn’t even afford to sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were the deepest of all.

Kyle took in the sight and silently lowered his gaze.

“Still, a delegate’s a delegate.”
“You mean the same delegate who keeps demanding extra rest breaks? We stop for two or three days at every station just to ‘recover’…”
“Rest is vital for morale. It’s accounted for in the schedule.”
“Such capable people… what a waste. Maybe we should just recruit them into our staff instead?”

Kyle looked again at the weary group, their supervisor’s bloodshot eyes more striking now than before. Because he was their superior, he couldn’t ride in a carriage like the others. Instead, he had to travel alone on horseback, and that meant he wasn’t permitted to sleep while on the move. Kyle shook his head slowly.

“Our clerks are competent enough. In any case, let’s focus on finishing this mission first… Arriving in Amukham takes priority.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

They fell silent, side by side, guiding their horses onward. Three more days to Amukham. If only the road would stay peaceful, and those clerks could hold on a little longer without losing more sleep or sanity. Kyle Irvine thought as much, riding forward alongside Cedric Meyer.

***

“Hey, Irvine! Can I ask you something?”
“What is it, Bibi? You sound serious.”
“That thing from before. The one hanging on your shoulder bag strap… Is that a bangle?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it is.”
“Reaaally! And why exactly are you wearing it? Care to tell?”
“Well… someone gave it to me. Said she made it for practice and didn’t want to just tuck it away, so… she told me to wear it.”

“I seeee…! And tell me, what about the bangle I gave you?!”
“Huh? Oh, right here— see? On my left wrist. Heh.”
“Do you… actually know what a bangle means?”
“O-of course I do! I-I mean… during the Second Blue Moon at the Thanksgiving Festival, uh… when a girl gives it to, you know, the guy she l-likes… and if he feels the same, he wears it on his left wrist… r-right? Man, it’s really embarrassing saying it out loud!”
“W-well… yeah! That’s… that’s right! As long as you know, then it’s fine! Totally fine!!”
“Y-Yeah…”

“A-And… that one! Who gave you that one?”
“It was Mary. She said it was just for practice.”
“I seeee… but there are four of them in total, aren’t there?!”
“Oh, yeah! The others are from Gloria, Irma, and Jannis. They all came running up, saying, “Here, Irvine, take this!” and giggling the whole time. Cute, right?”
“I seeee…! And you just accepted them, huh?!”
“Well, yeah! They’re just kids. Probably just copying the older girls, they don’t mean anything by it.”

“……Goodness…”
“Wh-what’s with the huge sigh?!”
“No, it’s fine! It’s just… yeah, you’re a Haggard man, after all!”
“Uh, yeah! That’s right! I’m a Haggard man!!”
“Right… a Haggard man… I suppose that explains it… haaahhh…”
“What in the world is going on?”
“Haaahhh…”