A few days had passed since that letter arrived.
A carriage rattled to a halt on the cobblestones before the entrance. When the door opened, a woman stepped out.
She looked to be in her late twenties, of medium height and build. Her deep blue hair was gathered and tied back neatly. Her attire was crisp and formal, giving her a fastidious air.
—She looks like a capable professional. An office lady, almost.
The thought crossed my mind unbidden.
"I am Hermine, an Inspector with the District Office Audit Department. I have come today for the on-site inspection."
"We have been expecting you, Inspector. Please, come inside."
Father gave a slight bow, and the Inspector returned the gesture before entering the house.
In the drawing room, Father and I, who had guided her in, were joined by Mother, Mira, and Klaus. At Father's invitation, the Inspector took a seat and spread the documents she carried across the table.
—They looked like records of Lina’s condition prior to her treatment. She must have brought the ones delivered via the slave trader.
"Could you call the subject in, please?"
Lina was summoned and entered the room. She stood half-hidden behind me, her small hand gripping the hem of my shirt.
"Lina, was it? I will now verify the treated areas. Gentlemen—excluding Lord Rein—please excuse yourselves."
The Inspector spoke in a flat, businesslike tone.
"Understood. Klaus, let us go."
Father and Klaus gave a slight bow at the doorway and left the drawing room.
Lina hesitantly turned around and lifted her clothes halfway. The burn scars on her back were gone.
The Inspector's gaze shifted back and forth between the documents and Lina's back.
"...When did you begin the treatment?"
"About a year ago..."
"And the condition of other areas?"
"Almost the same... all over my body..."
The silent inspection of the rest of her body continued for a time.
"Thank you for your cooperation. Next, I will witness a demonstration of the treatment. Please bring the gentlemen back in."
Father and Klaus returned to the drawing room.
The Inspector turned back to me.
"To verify consistency with the report's description, please perform a demonstration."
"...Inspector, is a demonstration absolutely necessary?"
Father asked, his face twisted as if he had swallowed a bitter bug.
"I apologize, but it is required for verification. Is there a problem?"
"I'll do it, Father."
—Refusing here won't change the outcome. It's better to get it over with in a single demonstration.
Father said nothing, merely clenching his fist.
"For the subject of the demonstration, could I ask you to treat this old scar on the back of my hand? It has already been confirmed that ordinary Recovery Magic cannot heal it, so it should be appropriate for verifying skin regeneration."
The Inspector placed the back of her right hand on the table. Just outside the base of her fingers were two thin, white lines. They were old scars, like cat scratches. They were inconspicuous to begin with; I didn't get the sense she was using this audit as a pretext to get free treatment.
"I understand."
I rolled up my left sleeve to above the elbow.
I drew the knife—the Crest Identification—at my waist. Normally, I wouldn't need to carry it within our own territory, but I had been keeping it on me constantly since it had become my tool for harvesting skin.
"...!?"
The Inspector gasped as I suddenly drew the blade.
Without hesitation, I sliced a sliver of skin from my left forearm.
Blood oozed from the cut.
"Wh—!? What are you—!?"
The Inspector's voice pitched high with shock.
The others in the drawing room remained silent.
Father averted his eyes. Mother quietly lowered hers. Mira bit her lip, her eyes dark and hollow. Even though Lina should have been used to the sight, she still trembled. Klaus simply closed his eyes in silence.
—Even as they reacted, the wound on my left forearm was already closing. The edges of the cut pulled together as if by an invisible force, the bleeding stopped, a thin membrane spread over the gap, and then there was nothing left. Not even a mark remained.
The Inspector's eyes captured every second of it.
I gently placed the thin piece of skin I had harvested onto the old scar on the back of the Inspector's hand.
I activated my Transplant Magic.
The skin began to meld. The thin white lines of the old scar faded and vanished.
The Inspector stared at the back of her own hand.
While she was distracted, I wiped the blood from my arm. My skin was as pristine as it had been moments before.
"This is...!? There is... no pain... No... it's more like..."
She couldn't find the words to finish.
The Inspector's gaze shifted slowly.
To the back of her own hand—where the scar had vanished.
To my left forearm—the blood-wiped skin, now devoid of wounds.
And to my face—pale from the sudden blood loss and pain, even to my own eyes.
Silence hung over the drawing room for a long moment.
"...You do this... to your whole body...?"
Her voice was barely a whisper. Then, it sounded as if something inside her finally snapped.
"What are you people—"
The sound of a chair scraping back echoed as the Inspector stood up.
"—making this child do?!"
I looked up. Tears were glistening in her eyes.
"Though we did not know the truth until recently, you are exactly right," Father said.
"You did not know?! What do you mean?"
"Rein kept it hidden from us... However, I have no excuse for failing to notice."
"Are you saying your son performed such a treatment of his own accord?"
"He did. I am told he simply wanted to save Lina."
"That's... but to sacrifice himself like that...!"
"Rein was far too kind. And we have no intention of letting Rein use this method ever again. Do I make myself clear?"
The Inspector said nothing, merely glaring at Father.
A heavy, tense silence filled the room.
As if remembering her professional duty, the Inspector straightened her back and composed herself.
"...My apologies. I have certainly confirmed that the treatment is possible."
She spoke with a face as expressionless as a Noh mask. With that, the audit was concluded.
◇◇◇
Inside the carriage, I watched the House Werl estate recede through the window.
The vibration of the carriage shook the seat rhythmically.
I touched the back of my right hand—the spot where the old scar had been. Now there was nothing. I traced the smooth skin with the pad of my finger.
"...How should I report this to that person...?"
My voice was swallowed by the rattling of the wheels.
"If I report it... that boy... surely..."
I couldn't bring myself to say the rest.
The carriage continued down the highway.