Crazy Britain:They’re All Raising Me

The Yellow Sign...

Guinevere's thoughts suddenly froze.

That thing… was the Yellow Sign?!

He had actually found one right beside him at the very beginning of his transmigration?! And he'd been carrying that cursed thing on him this whole time?

No wonder the Fourth Singularity had gone haywire… Could it be that he was one of those marked by the King in Yellow, and that his arrival had directly triggered the singularity's distortion?

But why?

Why would he be marked by the King in Yellow? Could it be that his transmigration—or his system—was somehow connected to that outer god?

Guinevere couldn't think of any other plausible explanation.

After all, it's not like some random member of the Yellow Sign cult just happened to pass by and toss him a sign for recruitment, right?

No, wait.

Guinevere forced himself to calm down, working to remain composed.

The system probably had nothing to do with the King in Yellow… After all, the missions he had been receiving were all aimed at stopping the King's descent. If the two were working together, there'd be no need for such roundabout plans, would there?

Besides, the system wasn't unique to him—Artoria had one too. And Artoria was a bona fide agent of the internal forces of Earth, a Fairy from Paradise aligned with Gaia herself.

And if a direct agent of Gaia could be corrupted by the Great Old Ones, then Gaia would've started scrambling to fix it ages ago. But as far as he could tell, Gaia hadn't done anything, which meant the system was probably unrelated to those ancient evils.

But if that's the case, did that mean his transmigration itself was tied to the King in Yellow?

Just thinking about it made Guinevere's scalp tingle.

No, no, that doesn't make sense either… Maybe he wasn't chosen before he transmigrated. Maybe the King in Yellow just happened to notice him after his arrival and decided to mark him… But that seemed unlikely, too.

Surely, if the King in Yellow were to mark someone, he wouldn't need to toss over a random trinket—wouldn't the mark appear like a birthmark, glowing on one's flesh or something?

The more he thought about it, the more Guinevere found the most plausible explanation to be the absurd one: maybe a wandering cultist did just throw the sign at him for recruitment.

But clearly, that couldn't be it either.

So what was the truth?

Just as Guinevere was still desperately piecing it together, he suddenly saw the Yellow Sign before him begin to move. For a split second, the image on the dossier page blinked—like a living eye.

His hand jerked, and he nearly dropped the folder in fright.

But when he looked again, the sign had returned to its inert state, as if it had never moved at all… like everything he'd just seen was nothing but a hallucination.

"You okay?"

Though Guinevere's reaction had been slight, and everyone else still had their heads buried in the documents, Artoria had noticed immediately.

Even while reading, her eyes kept flicking in his direction.

"…I'm fine," Guinevere said, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Just… saw something a bit shocking."

He glanced around, saw that no one else had noticed, then quietly flipped to another page and pointed casually at the "Henry Jekyll Kidnapping Case."

"Didn't expect to find my name in one of these reports. Guess I got front-row seats to my own tabloid scandal."

"…"

But after glancing down at the page he'd flipped to, Artoria looked back up at him and said firmly:

"You're lying."

"Eh…?" Guinevere blinked.

Sure, his page-turning had been a little suspicious… but how could she be so sure just from that?

For a second, he wondered if her Fairy Eyes had somehow started working on him again.

But before he could spiral too far, Artoria continued:

"You're only saying that because you think my Fairy Eyes can't read your thoughts."

Wait, what? They were working?

Then he heard her add:

"They still don't work on you. But seriously, how long do you think we've known each other?"

"Ah… I see…"

Relieved, but also a little sheepish, Guinevere looked away—subconsciously shifting his gaze to the left.

And immediately, Artoria said:

"You always look to the left when you lie. Just like you did just now."

He quickly snapped his gaze back forward, forcing a smile.

"N-No, I was just looking around the room, that's all—"

"You also smile awkwardly when you lie."

Now he couldn't even force the smile.

"And that's not all. You've got tons of little tells when you lie. Want me to list them all?"

"No… that won't be necessary…"

Defeated, Guinevere lowered his head like a criminal awaiting judgment.

To think he, the embodiment of evil, would be caught in a lie so easily—it was disgraceful. It had to be Guinevere's fault—the good one. That idiot's habits must've rubbed off on him, which was why even after their separation, he was still this pathetic.

Artoria sighed and shook her head.

"Really now… if you didn't want to tell me something, you didn't have to lie about it. You could've just said nothing."

Guinevere looked up, surprised.

Artoria was looking at him with calm, steady eyes.

"I believe in you," she said softly. "If you won't tell me, then you must have your reasons. I'll wait until you're ready."

"—"

Guinevere stared at her, momentarily stunned. After a long silence, he finally muttered:

"Thanks."

"No need to thank me," she said, quickly turning her head away, cheeks slightly pink. "But if there is something you need help with, promise me you'll tell me right away. Don't suffer in silence just to save face."

"…Okay."

Looking at the faint blush on her cheek, Guinevere gave a small nod.

He'd almost blurted something like, "I'm so glad I met you" or "Loving you is the best thing that ever happened to me"… but the words caught in his throat. Too embarrassing.

No. Those soft, vulnerable words were for Guinevere to say—maybe when they finally merged back into one. They didn't suit someone like him.

With that half-excuse to himself, he turned away and said coolly:

"Got it."

Artoria sighed again, muttered "Idiot," and walked away, leaving Guinevere in place, awash in complicated emotions.

Sure, he could've told her what was going on… but it didn't seem worth it. For one, he didn't fully understand the situation himself. Not to mention that revealing he had a system too wasn't exactly something he could explain easily.

And even if he did tell her… what good would it do?

All it would accomplish is turning one person's anxiety into two. He could handle the stress. Artoria would only end up worrying about something she couldn't help with.

No—there was no need to burden her with that.

He'd shoulder it on his own.

Besides, this singularity already involved the King in Yellow and the Yellow Sign cult. If there was a time to dig deeper, it was now.

Resolved, Guinevere buried himself once more in the documents, combing through every page related to the Henry Jekyll kidnapping.

But no matter how many times he reviewed the records, he found nothing conclusive. The only noteworthy detail was that his kidnapping had been the very first act the cult leader performed after receiving divine revelation.

Guinevere furrowed his brow.

…No, not enough intel. He couldn't deduce anything solid from this.

It was time to sync up with the other Guinevere.

If he could get this information into the hands of his counterpart, then maybe—just maybe—the good one could connect the dots with whatever evidence he had on his end.

Guinevere didn't like him. But now wasn't the time for petty grudges.

The situation was far beyond what he could handle alone.

He couldn't afford to become a ticking time bomb that endangered Artoria and Bavanzi.

With that thought, he dove back into the records—but they yielded nothing new.

Just then, Ritsuka Fujimaru suddenly called out:

"Wait, hold on! Didn't that summoning ritual for the evil god require a bunch of giant stones arranged in a V-shape? We saw a bunch of huge stones out in the streets earlier—could those be the ones?"

"Oh?" Adonis's eyes lit up.

"You saw the stones? Please, give me the location. I'll have them destroyed immediately—"

"No need," Guinevere interjected. "I already smashed one of them on the spot. No need to send anyone."

"No, it's not that simple." Adonis shook his head. "In this dream world, time resets every night. Even if you destroyed one today, it'll reappear tomorrow. I need to memorize the locations myself so we can consistently destroy them each day."

"Time resets?" Guinevere frowned.

"Yes," Adonis nodded. "Every night at midnight, a giant black hole appears in the sky, devouring everything in the city. When everyone wakes up the next day, everything is back to the way it was before—the monsters, the stones, everything. Only the dead don't come back. In their place… something else appears."

"…What time is it now?"

"About ten minutes to ten. Why?"

"…No reason."

Glancing at the system interface before him, Guinevere muttered under his breath:

[Time remaining until dream ends: 2 hours, 15 minutes]

"I see… then what about the gear you made for the officers? Does that reset too?" Ritsuka asked.

"It does," Adonis said. "Fortunately, I've already planned efficient farming routes. We gather materials as quickly as possible each day, and I get to work producing the gear. The only downside is I can't leave Scotland Yard during the early hours, which slows us down. If only I had better blueprints…"

"You're too modest," Ritsuka said quickly. "I've seen the equipment you made—it's really impressive. You're already doing a fantastic job."

"Oh?" Guinevere suddenly interjected. "Then if I provided you with better schematics, would that speed up your production time?"

"You have schematics?" Adonis blinked. "That would help immensely."

"Get me paper and a pen."

Recalling the blueprints he'd obtained from the Dynamite Gang, Guinevere began sketching. As he scribbled, Adonis's eyes widened.

"Oh! What an unorthodox approach… this design is totally insane, but it could work. If we arm our officers with this, it'll boost their combat effectiveness immensely!"

"Helpful, then?"

"Absolutely!" Adonis grabbed the pages with glowing excitement. "I've got so many new ideas already… Excuse me, everyone—I must return to my lab and get to work immediately!"

"Wait, hold on!" Guinevere stopped him. "Where's Captain Ella? I need to speak with her before midnight. Could she have run into monsters on her way back?"

"No need to worry," Adonis reassured him. "It's not Blood Moon yet. With Ella's strength, nothing could slow her down. She should be back any moment now."

"Still, if she's not here—"

Just then, a police officer burst into the room:

"Lord Adonis! Lady Tayle! Captain Ella has returned! She's in the lounge waiting for you!"

"See? Told you," Adonis said, clapping Guinevere on the shoulder.

"Now that she's back, I'll leave the rest to you. I've got a very short window left to experiment with these designs!"

"Wait, I still have more questio—"

But Adonis had already darted off.

"…Let him go," Artoria sighed. "Isn't finding Ella your top priority now?"

"…You're right." Guinevere nodded.

"In that case, come with me. I'll need your help."