The Third Dance

“Ugh, why are you hitting me? Is being a cop that big of a deal? Does being police mean you can do whatever you want?”

“Yes. Being police means I really can do whatever I want.”

???

Lynch now suspected that this crazy woman had also flipped through his memories—just like the deity in his head who was currently laughing like a mortal.

The two were now sitting on the lawn in the backyard, bathed in the crimson and silver-white moonlight.

In the distance, lights blazed bright and laughter filled the air, yet the two quietly sat in the darkness, gazing out at the fireworks in the night sky.

It gave an almost detached feeling of watching the world's bustling prosperity from afar, like deities high above the clouds overlooking the noisy mortal realm.

Two sheets of newspaper were spread out on the ground, and the two sat side by side on the lawn.

“So you used someone else's relic to disguise yourself and slipped away to the back? Everyone up front is probably looking for you. Hehe, someone's going to hate you to death.” For some reason, the eerie, terrifying aura that had previously hung around the female officer had vanished completely. Her usually stern face was smiling quite happily now. “Though what kind of appearance is that supposed to be? All round and chubby with a little potbelly, just like those bankers. Hahaha! Where did you get that look from? It's hilarious.”

“Just made it up on the spot. God knows where a guy like that comes from—probably an invader who barged in from some unknown world.”

Lynch shrugged. Was my old otaku look really that cute to make you laugh like this? Sure, it was a bit round, but it wasn't quite at giant panda level yet. Women from other worlds really have seen nothing.

“As if that's possible.” In high spirits, the female officer tried poking his protruding little belly, but unfortunately only poked empty air, causing her to sigh in disappointment. “Right now, you're the most important guest of all. Without you, those people probably won't even know how to dance. Why did you run over here? You know, some nobles might go their entire lives without getting a single chance to be the center of attention at a ball. Miss this chance, and there might not be a next time. You were really willing to throw that away?”

“What's the big deal? Becoming the center of attention is far too easy whenever I feel like it. If all else fails, I could just disguise myself as the bear or lion next door—guaranteed to make all those noble ladies and young misses shriek. Hiss, you're hitting me for that too? And how are you even stomping on my toes while sitting on the ground?!” Lynch let out an exaggerated sigh of mock admiration and handed over the bottle of red wine. “I already told you I came to feed the tigers. Here.”

Unfortunately, the female officer didn't understand the quips from his homeland and merely took the red wine bottle.

It was an unlabeled bottle; there was no telling what was inside.

“You bastard, you went and looted Duke Vane's wine cellar, didn't you?” The female officer grinned. The more inconspicuous or unlabeled a bottle was, the more precious the vintage, especially in the residence of the regional governor. At this moment, however, she had none of the professional restraint of a police officer, looking utterly thrilled instead. “Where's the corkscrew? Didn't you steal one while you were at it? And didn't you bring glasses?”

“What do we need those for? That ruins the fun.”

With that, Lynch snatched the bottle back and raised a hand.

“Sword, come.”

Drawing his sidearm, the Judgment of Vigen, he swept his blade toward the bottle's neck.

“Wait!” the female officer cried, trying to stop him, but Lynch moved too fast for her to intervene.

Relying on the Severing effect, he sheared the bottle's top clean off.

Holy crap, that hurts!

The instant the top was sheared off, Lynch felt a sharp, tearing pain in his chest, as if someone had slashed him in two. Only now did he truly experience the trait of her father's relic that the female officer had mentioned before.

Every strike against an enemy inflicted the same pain upon oneself.

The problem was, Lynch never expected it to hurt this badly. Remembering how the female officer had swung her blade repeatedly to save him earlier—practically subjecting herself to death by a thousand cuts with her own hands—Lynch's heart ached with a dull pang.

“You moved too fast!” The female officer glared at him and snatched the sword back. “Now you know the pain, don't you? That's just how this sword is. Father once said that this is the true reflection of a law enforcer's heart—to protect order, one must endure this agony. Don't do something so stupid next time.”

“Got it. I'll do it again next time; hurting alone is no fun. Besides...” Tipping the sheared bottle back, he took a huge swig and wiped his mouth with satisfaction. “Besides, drinking from glasses is even more boring. We're not like those folks pretending to be refined. No matter what kind of wine it is, drinking it like this is the real deal.”

“Are you insane tonight?”

Officer Natalie wore a conflicted expression. Looking at the bottle Lynch was holding out to her, she hesitated for a long moment before suddenly snatching it. Mimicking Lynch, she took deep gulps straight from the bottle, crimson wine trickling down her fair chin, looking strikingly alluring in the darkness.

“You're not the only one who's crazy. I think I've gone mad too—I actually find this thrilling.”

The female officer lowered the bottle, wiped her face, and exhaled a breath laced with wine fragrance, her eyes gleaming brightly.

Looking down, she found that Lynch had opened the paper bag he had clung to so stubbornly, pulling out a spread of exquisite pastries and roasted meats.

“You didn't really raid the Duke's kitchen, did you?” Officer Natalie lightly bit her lip. “What on earth are you thinking?”

“You're on guard duty, and you barely ate anything during the banquet earlier.”

“Nonsense, I'm stuffed.”

“Stuffed, my foot. I was watching you—you took exactly five bites.”

“You really have too much time on your hands.” The female officer turned her head away to look elsewhere. “Just eat your food.”

“Besides, you still owe me a candlelight dinner,” Lynch said with a smile. “I figured paying out of pocket to go somewhere together would be way too expensive, and a freshly minted knight like me can't afford it anyway. Taking advantage of this occasion to make that old fox foot the bill was just right.”

“They're definitely still searching for you up front.”

“They're looking for Lynch Levive. What does that have to do with this chubby, fat shut-in? We're having our candle-less candlelight dinner.” Lynch shrugged, picked up a pastry, and popped it into his mouth. “Damn it, why did I pick all sweet ones? No good, I need to go swap them out.”

“Go away, don't touch my pastries.” Officer Natalie bit her lip and glared fiercely at him, yet couldn't help breaking into a laugh as she picked up a piece as well.

Indeed, the pastries were surprisingly sweet and fragrant. Officer Natalie Angel felt as though she had never tasted pastries so sweet. It was almost too sweet; quickly washing it down with another gulp of red wine while gazing at the distant lights, she was suddenly seized by the urge for time to stand still at this very moment forever.

Melodious music drifted in from afar; it seemed the third dance was about to begin. The sharp gaze of the female officer softened as it swept across the face of the man beside her.

“Are you really not going to dance the third dance, Lynch? It's true that it isn't suitable for me to show myself and dance with you tonight, but the others are different. It's a rare opportunity.”

“The third dance still needs to be danced.” Lynch fell silent for a moment, then stood up under her somewhat disappointed gaze. Suddenly bending forward, he extended a hand to her. “Miss Angel, would you do me the honor of sharing tonight's third dance with me? Right here, right now—a third dance that belongs solely to us?”

The female officer remained silent for a long time. Just as the prelude was nearing its end and the official dance tune was about to start, she abruptly sprang to her feet and kicked Lynch in the shin. “You bastard, saying things like that! You wanted to dance, so now you don't have a choice—you're dancing whether you want to or not!”

Amidst Lynch's chuckles, the two embraced tightly, turning slowly to the rhythm of the distant music. Only the water-like moonlight gently watched over the two figures dancing in silence.

“Roar...”

From behind them came another low growl of a wild beast, sounding utterly out of place amidst the melodious music.