Extra's Path To No Harem-Chapter 203: First Bomb [2]

"So," Anna continued, glancing at me sideways, "I was hoping you could pull it out using your ability."

"...My ability?"

She looked at me like I’d just asked whether the sky was blue.

"You know," she said, tapping the table lightly. "That pulling ability of yours. If you use that, this should come out pretty easily, right?"

Ah. That one.

She wasn’t wrong. If I applied it with enough precision, I could extract the core without applying any physical force at all—no shock, no backlash, no unnecessary strain.

Still, one question lingered.

"...How do you know about my ability?"

"Huh?" Anna blinked, then waved it off. "Oh! I saw you fighting before."

...She did?

Thinking back, it wasn’t impossible. Lately, I’d been using that ability far more openly than I realized—subtle pulls here, invisible adjustments there. To someone observant like Anna, the pattern must’ve been obvious.

It’s not like I’d gone out of my way to hide it anyway.

So I let it go.

"Well, fine," I said, shifting my focus back to the object between us. "I just need to pull this out, right?"

"That’s right," Anna replied, her tone turning serious. "But you have to do it in one go. If there’s even a moment of hesitation, we don’t know what kind of reaction it might cause."

So, no pressure at all.

"Don’t worry," I said lightly. "Simple work like this is well within my skill set."

That wasn’t bravado—I meant it. Compared to everything I’d dealt with recently, this barely even registered as a challenge.

Still, caution never hurt.

To be safe, I reached into my spatial storage and pulled out Furion.

The familiar weight of the weapon settled into my palm, grounding me almost instantly.

Just holding it was enough to steady my breathing.

Anna, who had been quietly watching me equip Furion, tilted her head with open curiosity.

"What’s that?" she asked. "I’ve never seen a weapon like it before."

"This?" I replied casually. "It’s a gift. From a blacksmith I know."

"A blacksmith?" Her eyes widened a little. "You had connections like that?"

I glanced at her and saw that she was genuinely surprised.

...Did she really think I wouldn’t?

Well, considering how I usually behaved at the academy—keeping to myself, avoiding attention—it wasn’t exactly an unreasonable assumption. Still, hearing it said out loud made a faint heat creep up my ears.

"We met a while back," I said vaguely.

"When?" Anna pressed, brows knitting together. "I didn’t receive any reports about this..."

She trailed off, mumbling under her breath as if already mentally flipping through stacks of documents.

I decided it was best not to engage.

Leaving Anna to mutter incomprehensibly to herself, I focused on Furion instead and slowly channeled mana into it.

Woong.

The weapon responded immediately, letting out a low, pleasant hum that resonated through my arm. It felt almost alive—like it was acknowledging my presence rather than merely reacting to the mana.

I extended my hand and aimed it toward the empty space ahead of me.

"Tung."

A light, metallic sound rang out.

Something detached itself from Furion and snapped neatly into my grasp.

"...Is this a detonator?"

I stared at the object in my hand.

It was small. Cold. Unmistakably mechanical.

And far too familiar.

It looked almost identical to the detonators I’d seen in movies—the kind pulled out at the last second while a countdown blared in the background.

That was when it finally clicked.

So that was why Anna had emphasized pulling it out in one clean motion.

If I’d hesitated.

If my hand had slipped.

If I’d tried to remove it halfway—

The bomb could’ve gone off right then and there.

A chill crept up my spine.

"Now," Anna said calmly, rolling up her sleeves as if we were about to sort documents rather than dismantle a bomb, "shall we proceed with disarming it in earnest?"

I didn’t answer.

My body had completely locked up.

The weight of the object in my palm suddenly felt unbearable.

If I’d made even a single mistake with that casual pull...

"...You’re insane," I muttered under my breath.

Thankfully, she didn’t hear me.

—or maybe she did and chose to ignore it. With Anna, either was possible.

The bomb could’ve detonated at any second.

Only after the thought crossed my mind did my heart start pounding violently, as if it had just realized how close to death we were. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to breathe and turned my gaze back to Anna.

Her long, purplish hair was tied loosely to one side, strands slipping free as she leaned forward, completely absorbed in the task at hand. Her fingers moved with steady precision, carefully adjusting wires and mechanisms as if she were dismantling a clock rather than a device meant to kill us.

Watching her like this gave me a strange sense of déjà vu.

She didn’t look like the Anna I knew.

No regal posture.

No flawless smile meant for public appearances.

No elegant composure drilled into her since childhood.

Right now, she looked more like a mechanic—or an engineer—someone deeply familiar with machines and danger. And somehow, that image felt... refreshing.

This version of her felt real.

"...Do you know something?"

"Huh?About what?"

"I used to have a dream too."

Her hands paused as she said those words m

That alone caught me off guard.

This was news to me.

Anna had been born a princess—raised as one from the moment she could walk, speak, and think. Her entire life had been paved straight toward the throne. Responsibilities, expectations, and obligations had surrounded her like invisible chains.

I’d always assumed she’d accepted that path without question.

To think she had a dream—something outside of that predetermined future—had never even crossed my mind.

"...A dream?" I repeated quietly.

She let out a small breath—almost a laugh. "You look surprised."

"I am," I admitted honestly. "I didn’t think you ever had the luxury to dream about anything else."

For a moment, she didn’t answer.

Her fingers kept moving instead, deft and practiced as she loosened one component and tightened another, never hesitating. The faint ticking sound grew softer, then stopped altogether.

"What kind of dream did you have?" I asked.

"I wanted to be an alchemist."

"...An alchemist?"

The word slipped out before I could stop myself.

Alchemists.

People who locked themselves away in workshops, conducting bizarre experiments, surrounded by smoke, strange liquids, and the constant risk of explosions. Every alchemist I’d ever heard of was an eccentric at best—and outright insane at worst.

And Anna... wanted to become one of them?

As if to answer my unspoken doubt, she straightened up slightly.

"Done!"

She wiped her hands together, then realized too late how dirty they were. Dark smudges streaked across her gloves, her sleeves, even her cheek. Her neatly kept appearance from earlier was completely gone.

No elegant princess.

No dignified student council president.

Just Anna—messy, tired, and unmistakably alive.

And somehow...

This version of her felt far more charming.

Especially the smile on her face.

It wasn’t the composed, polite smile she showed others. This one was brighter. Freer. Almost proud.

How should I put it?

It felt real.

"Where’s the next one?" she asked, pushing the now-harmless bomb aside with a relieved sigh.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how casually she said it.

"The next one is..."

I took out the memo I’d brought, scanning the notes once more, cross-checking locations, timing, and the information extracted earlier. There was no mistake.

After a brief pause, I spoke.

"It’s in His Majesty’s bedchamber."

"...What?"

Anna froze.

For the first time since we started, her hands stopped moving entirely. She slowly looked up at me, her expression blank, as if she hadn’t processed the words yet.

"The second bomb," I continued quietly, "was planted inside the Emperor’s bedroom."

Silence fell between us.

Of all places.

Not a hallway. Not a public hall. Not even a ceremonial chamber.

The bedroom.

The most private space of the ruler of this vast empire.

"That’s..." Anna swallowed. "That’s not a prank. That’s not even a warning."

"No," I agreed. "It’s an execution attempt."

Her jaw tightened.

Security around the Emperor was absurdly strict. Layers upon layers of guards, magic barriers, detection arrays. Planting a bomb there meant one thing.

The culprit wasn’t just bold.

They had inside help—or terrifying competence.

Anna slowly exhaled, then clenched her fists.

"So that’s how far they’re willing to go," she muttered.

I nodded. "Which means we don’t have much time."

She looked at her smudged hands, then at me, resolve settling into her eyes.

"Then let’s move," she said firmly. "Dream or not, I didn’t learn alchemy just to stop halfway."

For a brief second, I saw it clearly.

The girl who dreamed of becoming an alchemist—

Standing on the edge of history, about to defuse a disaster that could shake the entire Empire.

And somehow, I knew.

Whatever happened next...

There was no turning back now.