The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent-Chapter 203

If a depressing thought crosses your mind and you know it can’t change anything, it’s better to simply not dwell on it.

Not that I’ve been plagued by guilt over the past few years. I’ve merely accepted it as something inevitable.

This applies not only to the children I couldn’t save but also to Count Crowfield, whom I killed, and the countless nameless individuals I’ve faced on the battlefield. This is the kind of world we live in. It would have been naive to think I could avoid killing in a world based on a game where death is a common theme.

“Sylvia?”

I blinked at the sudden voice calling my name.

Charlotte was looking at me with a concerned expression.

“Is something wrong? Do you not like the food?”

“No, it’s not that.”

I quickly answered.

I had just briefly recalled my conversation with Alice from the night before. It wasn’t that the food was bad or that I’d forgotten how to speak because of it.

In fact, the food was delicious.

The meals served at the Academy or the Imperial Palace were already quite good. Despite the internet memes about "British cuisine," even the Empire’s aristocrats wouldn’t tolerate eating unappetizing food.

Well-cooked steak, hearty English breakfasts, a variety of desserts for tea time—they all tasted wonderful.

Besides, the Empire didn’t strictly stick to traditional Imperial cuisine. Just as people in Korea eat a variety of global foods instead of Korean dishes every day, the Empire embraced culinary diversity. Complaining about food was rare when you attended the Academy.

In that context, I had always been curious why Charlotte often expressed dissatisfaction with Academy meals. How much better could Belvurian cuisine possibly be?

...It turned out, it was genuinely excellent.

Not to the point of being so mind-blowing that I’d never eat anything else again, but there was something subtly different about it. The texture of the meat, the delicate aroma infused into it, the sweetness and consistency of the sauce—everything came together in harmony.

Eating the same dish felt like an entirely new experience.

“It’s excellent.”

“Is it?”

Charlotte replied in a tone that was polite but devoid of emotion, much like a noblewoman responding out of courtesy. Still, her gaze briefly flickered toward Alice.

Alice wore a slightly frustrated expression.

...Why was she reacting like this to my opinion? It wasn’t as though I were some renowned food critic.

Perhaps it was my notoriously neutral expression at work. Maybe they thought, “If even she breaks her composure, this food must be exceptional!”

The easiest way to break my expression would’ve been to put a plate of jellied eels in front of me, but I wasn’t about to tell them that.

It wasn’t just me, Alice, and Charlotte at the table. Claire, Leo, Mia, Rena, and Sophia were seated with us. Jake and Lottie had chosen to dine separately. Leo’s face briefly fell at the idea of being the only man surrounded by women, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Claire was eating with sparkling eyes, Rena was her usual composed self, carefully wielding her knife and fork. Sophia seemed the same as always, though she occasionally cast fleeting glances at Leo. Meanwhile, Mia was happily munching away, her cheeks puffed out with food.

...For a moment, I wondered if I should eat like Mia. After all, I could just rewind time afterward.

But I quickly gave up on the idea.

Steak was something I ate regularly anyway. If I started rewinding time for every meal Charlotte introduced, it could become a slippery slope.

Charlotte had a determined look on her face, as if she’d prepared extensively. If I were to rewind, it should be for something truly extraordinary.

Watching Charlotte’s confident smile directed at Alice, and Alice’s begrudging glare in return, I turned my focus back to the plate in front of me.

“Sis, look at this!”

After finishing our meal, Claire tapped my shoulder as we walked along the road.

“Tada!”

She proudly presented a camera.

It was a far cry from the digital cameras of my old world—a bulky, antique-looking device at first glance.

Of course, "antique-looking" was my perspective. For this era, it was cutting-edge technology. A portable camera like this was a marvel. According to the game developers, its design was inspired by a legendary modern camera brand.

“I brought it since we’re traveling abroad! What do you think?”

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“I heard it’s quite expensive.”

I wasn’t particularly interested in cameras. I only knew about this one because I’d considered whether it could be useful for espionage.

Unlike digital cameras, film cameras didn’t allow for quick editing or easy storage on memory cards. They lacked stealth and immediate photo previews, making them inconvenient for covert use.

Developing film required a darkroom and chemicals. It was a hassle for something classified, especially since anything gained would disappear if I rewound time.

Still, it seemed useful for preserving memories.

“Hehe.”

Claire laughed mischievously, her demeanor reminiscent of Charlotte, and puffed out her chest proudly.

“I worked hard hunting to afford this. I sold everything I didn’t absolutely need, except for a few essential marbles.”

This was a notable difference from the game.

In the game, even if you earned a lot of money, you couldn’t buy anything outside event-specific items, healing recipes, or equipment. But in this world, money could buy practically anything.

Charlotte’s gaze briefly fell on the camera, clearly made in the Empire, before turning back to Alice.

Alice was smiling smugly.

For a moment, Charlotte’s expression turned frustrated.

...Why were they getting competitive over something that wasn’t even theirs? I had thought they’d matured somewhat, but they were still kids in many ways.

“So, can we take a picture together? Since we’re here, I want to capture the memory properly.”

Claire’s suggestion seemed to break the tension between Alice and Charlotte.

After all, despite their bickering, everyone here was a friend.

“An excellent idea.”

My words sealed the deal, and even Charlotte and Alice nodded in agreement.

The camera, of course, had no selfie function. Everything, from the rangefinder to the focus, had to be adjusted manually. No one passing by seemed skilled with a camera.

Fortunately, Claire had anticipated this and pulled a tripod out of the large bag she’d been carrying since morning.

Setting up for the photo, we stood in a line with Lutetia Palace visible in the background.

“Okay, ready!”

Claire shouted as she pulled a lever on the camera and quickly dashed back to us with the agility of a swordswoman.

Sliding between me and Alice, she hooked her arm through mine.

“Ah—”

Before Alice could complain, the shutter clicked.

That evening, when the photos were developed, the result showed Claire beaming brightly at the camera while everyone else looked slightly startled, glancing in her direction.

Still, it was a good picture—everyone’s faces were clear, and the mood was cheerful.

...If not for the shadowy figure that had accidentally crept into the corner of the frame.