Great revolutions are always born from a serious and inspiring atmosphere.
'Project HB (Haschwalth's Birthday),' a symbol of solidarity and passion among the male Quincies, also shared such a solemn origin.
Men who—at least in their own minds—looked like they belonged in a scene from a noir film.
After all, were they not dressed in sharp, angular uniforms?
It was a visual—again, in their own minds—perfectly suited for a tale of underworld friendship and betrayal.
"Stop talking nonsense! Have you all lost your minds?!"
"Shut up, Cang Du."
There was, of course, an ill-mannered individual heckling from the audience, but what could be done?
It was their duty to carry the play forward in silence regardless.
In any case, it is the way of the world that every small gear must turn without fail for a grand plan to succeed.
They soon began to hammer out the details, and these were the conclusions they reached.
First, the preparation of project materials.
A small whipped cream cake, mustache glasses, a massive amount of pink wallpaper to cover Haschwalth's room, a large banner, and pens for writing comments.
A Tyrannosaurus Rex pulling out a glowing mechanical Excalibur that transforms into Mecha Godzilla.
And a multi-tiered cake large enough to cover it all.
Since the food could simply be requisitioned—or rather, looted—from the logistics officer, they only needed to prepare the wallpaper and the banner.
Second, the recruitment of additional personnel.
Beyond the members currently involved, they required talent from various fields.
First and foremost, someone to handle the creation of the 'Mecha Godzilla... (omitted)'.
"That would be you, BG9."
"What gibberish are you spouting? Did you all collectively inhale gasoline?"
"Shut up and join us."
Schrift K, BG9 (Male-type Robot), recruited.
"I can manufacture the Godzilla portion, but the Tyrannosaurus, being an organic lifeform, will likely be unsatisfactory."
"Make the impossible possible."
Schrift C, Pernida Parnkgjas.
"...Me?"
"We want you for the Quincy Army."
Figure production utilizing 'The Compulsory.'
Recruited.
"But won't Haschwalth just dodge if we throw a cake at him?"
"Then we just throw it from a distance he can't dodge."
"How?"
Schrift N, Robert Accutrone.
"Come on."
"? What are you—"
Ambush squad utilizing 'The Nearness.'
Recruited.
"We have an ambush squad, but it's best to be cautious."
"We need to create the biggest opening possible."
"I know just the person."
Schrift Q, Berenice Gabrielli.
"Hahaha! I'm quite curious as to what you all are doing right now..."
"You'll find out soon enough."
Using 'The Question' to shake the target even slightly.
Recruited.
"I've added speakers to the figure, but I'm struggling to create a dinosaur sound no matter what I do."
Schrift R, Jerome Guizbatt.
"Step inside over here."
"...?"
Appointed as a voice actor utilizing 'The Roar.'
Recruited.
"We need to complicate his route to buy time to decorate the room."
"But how?"
"The word 'impossible' isn't in my dictionary."
Schrift Y, The Loyd Lloyd Brothers.
"Won't you join us?"
"...It's not like the environment gives us much of a choice, does it?"
Bluffing and stalling utilizing 'The Yourself.'
Recruited.
Additionally, Quilge Opie.
"...I will not interfere."
Neutrality secured.
Shaz Domino.
"Hmm, sounds fun!"
Joined.
Guenael Lee.
"Doing such useless things."
Bystander.
Äs Nödt.
"What a truly idiotic plan. Have you all become morons?"
"But it'll be fun, right?"
"You son of a—"
Cheering section recruitment complete.
Lille Barro.
"This is a foolish act that tarnishes the honor of the Quincy. If you do not stop this instant—"
Buried in concrete along with Cang Du.
PePe Waccabrada.
"Ho-ho, to think you didn't invite ME to such a festival!"
Cheering section, same as above.
Thus, Project HB evolved into a large-scale festival involving nearly all the Sternritter.
Omedetou, omedetou.
*****
"Finally, we need to track and adjust his movement route."
I felt like I was looking at a puzzle board with only the last piece remaining.
If only the plan to lure Haschwalth was finalized, we could implement it immediately without any awkwardness.
And the final finishing touch.
Tracking the target's movements.
However, this required more delicacy than any other point.
If Haschwalth felt even a hint of suspicion midway, the entire plan could go up in smoke.
Therefore, this was the Priority Zero recruit, more important than any other member.
Haschwalth's personal secretary, Rachel Seiramid Potts.
She possessed the ability to become a Sternritter but remained a Soldat out of loyalty to Haschwalth.
Ultimately, to create a natural bait, we had to win her over.
Furthermore, I expected this to be the most difficult task for this group of men.
I was even prepared to seek help from the women, including Bambietta, if necessary.
"Yes, I believe I feel positive about this."
"...Wait, really?"
In reality, anyone below the Sternritter is referred to as a Soldat and treated as an inferior, regardless of their specific sub-rank.
Nachahmer was a Soldat, Rachel was a Soldat, and even the division commanders were all Soldat.
Yet, there was something different—it felt as if I were visiting a friend's house late at night and asking for his wife's permission.
I found myself using polite honorifics without even realizing it.
"Actually, I didn't think you'd agree so easily..."
"Just as Lord Bazz-B thought, I also humbly believe that Lord Jugram is in need of rest."
She nodded, expressing her agreement.
"He drives himself so harshly, so I believe something like this is necessary once in a while."
"Uh... thank you?"
'What is this? Is she actually his wife?'
She exuded the untouchable aura of the lady of the house.
Well, whatever.
Every element was ready.
"Prepare for the upcoming day of execution."
"Roger."
All that remained was patience.
"I wonder just how far these men will take this nonsense?"
"Let's just munch on some popcorn."
*****
November 5th.
It was just the time when the weather was starting to get properly chilly.
Of course, the Wandenreich was frozen year-round regardless.
Haschwalth was in his office reviewing documents, as he always did.
Creak.
The door opened, and his secretary, Rachel, entered the room.
"Rachel? What is it."
"I've come to inform you that there is a meeting regarding the transport and management of total military supplies for the units."
"Ah, has it already come to that time?"
He pushed his chair back and stood up.
Gathering the materials from his drawer, he stepped out into the hallway.
"Where is the meeting room?"
"It will be held in Meeting Room 2."
It happened to be the place furthest from his office.
"In that case, have the 1st Division Commander take full charge of this matter."
"Sir! I shall obey!"
"And recently, officers of the 1st Division have been complaining of poor physical condition. Is there a reason?"
"Sir! Wanden-rai-rai...!"
"?"
"Sir! I will investigate further!"
"...Do so. Let us adjourn the meeting for now."
After about an hour, he left the meeting room.
Now it was time to return to his office.
As he was heading back with Rachel, he heard the 1st Division Commander calling from behind.
"Sir! I humbly request permission to ask Grandmaster Haschwalth a question, provided it does not cause offense or displeasure regarding the inquiry...!"
"I can spare ten minutes."
"Sir! Thank you!"
He stood in the hallway for ten minutes, taking questions about unit operations.
Strangely, however, he felt the questions lacked substance.
It was definitely the 1st Division Commander, though.
Afterward, he turned back and headed toward his office.
Arriving at the door, he placed his hand on the knob.
"Lord Jugram?"
"Hmm?"
"Happy birthday... 'in advance'."
"...Thank you."
Rachel gave him a soft smile as she congratulated him.
Come to think of it, was today his birthday?
He had forgotten it, as it wasn't particularly necessary to remember.
Still, having someone remember it...
'It doesn't feel too bad.'
"But what do you mean by 'in advance'? Isn't my birthday today?"
"Fufu, that's right."
"Hmm?"
He didn't know what she meant, but it probably wasn't anything bad.
"Oh, Haschwalth!"
"Gabrielli?"
Berenice Gabrielli suddenly appeared from the side and spoke to him.
"Perfect timing! There was something I wanted to ask!"
"I'm a bit busy right now."
"Haha, it's fine to keep it brief while we head inside."
She gestured for him to open the door.
If it was brief, then fine.
Creak.
The door opened halfway.
"So, your question?"
"...Well, as for that."
Clack.
He felt as if someone had grabbed the doorknob from the other side.
"I wonder how it feels to have a cake slammed into your face!"
The door swung open in an instant.
And a multitude of whipped cream cakes—no, Ritters—burst forth.
'What in the...!'
"Slam it!"
'I must dodge...!'
"You haven't answered yet!"
Zing—
The Question.
The person who receives the question is forced to answer, regardless of what the question is.
"It would likely be absurd!"
He answered instantly and twisted his body to dodge the countless cakes flying at him from the front.
"Whoa!"
He grabbed the wrists of Bazz-B and Nanana, who were at the very front.
Twisting their arms, he forced them to slam the cakes into each other's faces.
Thwack!
He moved to deal with the rest.
"The Nearness."
White whipped cream rushed right up to his face in an instant.
It was Robert's ability.
But he was the Grandmaster for a reason.
With transcendent reflexes, he immediately began an evasive maneuver...
"The Wind!"
'Nianzol!'
Space distorted, and his movement path was tangled.
"Hmph!"
He slammed his sword, still in its scabbard, into the floor to use as a support.
He moved his body like an acrobat on a horizontal bar.
It wasn't over.
There were still many cakes left.
'I'm embarrassed to use it for something like this, but...'
He could not allow himself to suffer such excessive humiliation.
"To think you would all corner me like this... you are quite fortunate."
"You coward...!"
Schrift B, The Balance.
It converts the opponent's good fortune into misfortune.
Pop! Pop-pop!
The cakes the Ritters were holding suddenly exploded, soiling their own faces.
Now, none of them could even see properly.
Even if they opened their eyes, everything would be white.
"...I shall listen calmly to what this is all about."
Fwip!
Bazz-B threw one last cake at his face in a final act of defiance, but he simply avoided it with a light step back.
"Were you part of this too, Bazz-B?"
"...Hmph."
As he straightened his clothes, Rachel approached him.
"Lord Jugram, is there anything on your face?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Still, let me check just in case."
She raised both hands to his face as if to brush back his hair and check.
Click.
"?"
Mustache glasses were placed on him.
"Rachel? What is this—"
"Lord Bazz-B!"
She instantly twisted her body away to protect her own face.
"To receive the concern of a beauty... you're quite lucky, Jugo!"
"Burner Finger 1!!"
The flame fired from his finger instantly flew toward the cake stuck to the wall.
But the target wasn't the smashed cake, but the small pouches hidden inside it.
Boom!
The heated pouches instantly vomited out compressed whipped cream.
Naturally, the primary shareholder of that whipped cream was Haschwalth's face.
"Bwahahaha! We did it! We actually did it!"
"It's complete!!"
The other Quincies wiped their faces, stood up, and began to dance for joy.
"Oh! The guys actually succeeded!"
"They pulled it off?"
Soon, even the female Quincies were peeking their heads out from outside the room to check the results.
"It's a surprise we prepared for you, Jugo!"
"Sigh... To do such a useless thing."
He let out a sigh and wiped his face.
Now that he looked, the room was entirely pink, and a massive banner hung in the window.
Before him was an eight-tier strawberry whipped cream cake taller than himself.
They had already put him out of their minds and were chatting excitedly among themselves.
It was truly a dizzying and unproductive activity.
"Still, it is something the others prepared for you, Lord Jugram. Are you not happy?"
"Hardly."
He wiped his face and stared at the whipped cream on his hand.
"To think even Bazz-B would join in... how strange."
"You're happy I joined, aren't you?"
"What are you talking about."
He always showed a calm and cold demeanor.
But on this November 5th, his birthday...
Everyone here would celebrate and remember his existence.
And the fact that the birthday boy had allowed a faint smile to cross his lips.
"...The cake is delicious."
"Hey, Haschwalth! If you eat all this cake, something awesome comes out from inside!"
"Let's eat quickly!"
"No forks?"
"Just scoop it up with your hands!"
"This is lethally tasty!"
"Soldat, a plate for me!"
"Yes, Miss Bambietta."
That they spent a very happy time together.
They would remember.
All of them.
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