Noah, the First Manager

“Who is that guy?”

“Why do so many Guards know him?”

“He looks so young—noble heir?”

“Nah, that lazy swagger? More like a spoiled rich kid!”

“Impossible! The Guard never takes backdoor recruits!”

“Even Round Table heirs get rejected!”

“Then why’s he here? Here for paperwork?”

The candidates’ theories shattered the moment they saw Black stride through the “Qualified Candidates Only” door—

a threshold reserved for those already accepted.

A hushed uproar rippled through the hall.

Eyes narrowed.

Whispers turned bitter.

Is this some rigged privilege?

But no one dared voice it.

Challenging the Dragon-Slaying Guard was suicide.

Black, oblivious to the chaos behind him,followed Leon into the inner administrative wing.

Leon murmured to the clerks:

“Black… special approval from the Lord… direct induction…”

The clerks’ eyes widened.

They stared at Black like he was a mythical beast—

yet asked nothing, their professionalism flawless.

They took his measurements,issued him three sets of tailored black-and-silver uniforms,

and a three-star weapon: Shadowfang—

a black blade with a sapphire-studded hilt.

Decent steel, Black noted, but I’ve got a six-star spear.

Then came the “Slay” insignia—

one golden star, marking him a novice.

(Leon and Land bore two.)

This badge mattered more than armor or sword—

it was his license to serve the Empress.

As he pinned it to his chest,

Leon and Land instantly slumped,exhaling in unison:

“Ugh—FINALLY! Pretending to be stiff statues is TORTURE!”

They collapsed into chairs, full-blown “Ge You lounges”,grinning like mischievous boys.

Black stared, baffled.

Leon slung an arm around his shoulder, laughing:

“Welcome to the family, rookie!

That ‘disciplined statue’ act? All for show!

Once the door’s closed—relax! Be yourself!”

Black smiled.

This… I can work with.

Then—he couldn’t resist:

“So… that mosquito corpse on your face…

…wanna wipe it off now?”

“WHAT?!”

Leon yelped, frantically scraping his cheek.

“MY DIGNITY! ALL THAT TIME—PUBLIC HUMILIATION!”

The room erupted in laughter.

As Black examined his badge, Land explained:

“One star = recruit. Six stars = legend.

Only two Six-Stars exist:

Noa—the First Chair,

and Pascal—the Second Chair.”

Black nodded, mind racing.

Pascal—met him.

Noa…

His blood chilled.

In the game, Noa wasn’t just a leader—she was a mastermind,an Emperor-tier Sage,and one of the late-game’s greatest villains.

As Leon chatted—

“Where’s home, kid? Family in Servia?”—

Black replied honestly:

“A fishing village in Seabound Province. They’re still there.”

Leon clapped his back:

“Now you’re Guard, you’re RICH!

1,000 gold monthly—enough to move your whole family here!”

1,000 gold… Black calculated.

A fortune. But blood money.

The Guard’s death rate dwarfed the Knight Patrol’s.

Yet thousands begged for this chance—

for the power, the honor, the Empress’s ear.

Then—a clerk handed him a slip:

“Assignment: 30th Squad.”

Leon and Land beamed:

“NO WAY! We’re 30th Squad too! Welcome aboard!”

They offered hands, grins wide.

But Black froze.

30th Squad?!

His stomach dropped.

In Chapter 1’s climax—

the entire 30th Squad was wiped out by Demeter’s forces.

No survivors.

No exceptions.

He stared at their outstretched hands—

smiling, trusting, alive—

and felt ice flood his veins.

How do I save them……when I don’t even know their names yet?