The flavor was surprisingly better than I’d anticipated.
It wasn’t the reverberating taste of Santos, but it was subtly superior to the cheap coffee I’d often drunk back in my exam days.
“This one’s fairly decent, isn’t it? It’s made from beans imported by a supplier connected to the longest-running café in the Empire.”
Kyle beamed, clearly pleased that my expression revealed approval.
“Thanks to that, our customer base has been growing, and it became too much for me alone—so we hired staff. That’s Emily, who served your coffee—she’s very capable.”
Kyle looked at Emily with pride, as if a new hire were proof of his café’s success. Then, as if remembering why he’d invited me, he laughed awkwardly.
“I’ve been talking shop ever since you arrived, haven’t I?”
‘I almost think promoting the café was his real purpose,’ I mused, watching his earnest expression as he settled into a more serious posture.
“So…Miss Diaz, would you consider working with me?”
For a moment I wondered if he was recruiting me as café staff—surely a more comfortable job, if precarious? I’m someone who cares about job stability, after all.
I straightened in my seat, coffee cup in hand. Kyle cleared his throat and continued.
“I mean…for the Blue Falcon.”
The Blue Falcon was Kyle’s information guild—and the Empire’s emperor-direct secret service.
‘The emperor’s handpicked best talents are all assigned there…’
Was he really asking me? I’m just Extra No. 102132.
“The Blue Falcon? Are you referring to that Blue Falcon?” I whispered, bewildered. Kyle scratched his cheek and smiled.
“Too sudden a proposal?”
“Isn’t it?” I shot back, and he laughed with twinkling eyes.
“After the war, when His Majesty returned to the palace, work actually increased for us—so we desperately need more hands.”
He tugged down his eyebrows in an exaggerated frown, as though to prove the point.
“Of course, we value your abilities highly—that’s why I’m making this offer.”
Having confessed manpower shortage in what began as a café recruitment, he quickly added praise for me. Work-life balance wasn’t in the Ministry of Finance’s vocabulary either, so I shrugged lightly.
“Do you really need all the help you can get?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“We are busy, yes—but I genuinely believe in your talents,” he answered earnestly. Only half of what’s said in such moments is usually honest—so I decided to trust that part.
‘Busy, huh?’ Even the Ministry of Finance busied up after the emperor’s return, so Kyle—far above me in rank—must be swamped.
I glanced around the nearly three-year-old café. It felt too professional to be just a front for an intelligence guild. I recalled from the original novel’s lore how the Blue Falcon kept nobles in check while the emperor was away at war.
‘Information wasn’t crucial during that war—His Majesty just overwhelmed the enemy with sheer force.’
‘Brains take a vacation when brawn does the talking.’ With the emperor gone, Kyle probably had little to do—until now.
‘But with the emperor back, it’s time to reassert control.’ Corrupt officials enriched during the previous reign still lurked, and the emperor, now wielding both military might and popular support, would need loyal operatives.
I pondered his spontaneous recruitment. Before I could decide, Kyle produced a contract like a gambler revealing his winning card.
“This is the employment agreement.”
He grinned confidently as I took it. True to his word, the sections on duties and workplace were blank—but the salary listed was over four times my current pay.
As my eyes ran over the figures, Kyle’s smile widened.
‘I was going to refuse lightly…’
But the amount was too huge to dismiss.
‘Maybe I should hear more…’
He pressed on.
“Consider that your base pay as a Blue Falcon member.”
“Base pay?” I blurted, my tone higher than intended. Kyle hurriedly explained.
“All Blue Falcon agents swear a secrecy oath called the ‘Mana Vow,’ which carries a considerable hazard allowance. Although your role won’t be that dangerous, the figure reflects those premiums.”
He assured me the work would be similar to my current Finance Ministry duties—so I hadn’t expected to become a spy. The only real hurdle was the secrecy oath: break it, and one must pay the price—death, in other words.
‘If I uphold the oath, though…’
The power of numbers was intoxicating. My salary wasn’t exactly paltry—but to earn five times as much?
“…Blue Falcon operatives receive cover positions. You already work at the Palace, so no additional title is needed—and you’ll still receive cover-position pay.”
Five times my current annual income. Honestly, I was tempted.
Yet the timing was off. ‘If only it weren’t six months before the novel’s plot really kicks off…’ The calm before the storm, when nobles still underestimated the war-weary emperor, was drawing to a close.
Soon, the palace would be torn by intrigue—entering the Blue Falcon’s eye of the storm might keep me safe, or it might be riskier than staying on the sidelines.
I couldn’t decide. Kyle gently offered me more time.
“It seems difficult to decide right now. Take all the time you need—and I hope you’ll consider it favorably.”
I nodded. ‘The more I think, the more I’ll want it,’ I realized—but at least I’d secured my retreat. Six months remained before the original story’s upheaval—and as an extra, my position was uncertain.
