Then it would have been far worse of a disaster than what was already about to come.
When the time finally came to register the Duke’s mecha, the one who actually went through with it was Duchess Amelia.
For one, mechas of the great families—especially those who ranked closest to the top of the military department—were required to be registered at headquarters.
And while a proxy could technically handle the process, it was highly encouraged for someone of significant standing to make an appearance. That was why the Duchess herself had gone in person when she registered her own new biomecha.
This time, however, the registration was supposed to be a surprise. That was the excuse given to the office—that it was a surprise gift for her husband.
Duchess Amelia hoped they would not try to confirm anything with Leander, considering even he supposedly had no idea yet.
But then something strange happened.
The longer she stayed, the more people seemed to be called into the registration office.
Until finally, even she could not ignore it.
"Hello, by any chance, is there an event today? I’ve never seen this many people gathering in this office."
"O-oh! Your Grace," stammered the receptionist, practically choking on air. "There’s no event today, ah, it just seems that there was... something with the scanning machine."
The receptionist was sweating bullets. Honestly, she had no idea what was happening. All she knew was that the moment she reported the Duchess had come to register a mecha on behalf of her husband, she was told to stall.
Stall? How exactly was she supposed to stall the Duchess of Kyros?
She was just a receptionist!
Still, she was not completely oblivious. She had heard the gossip circulating around the department. They were desperate to find a way to ask someone—anyone—about the suspicious flood of new mechas.
She just never thought she would be the poor soul on duty when the Duchess showed up.
"Then, if there is something wrong with the machine, should I just come back another time?"
"W-wait! I’ll check on them. Maybe they’ve figured out what’s wrong, or perhaps it’s just routine maintenance. It wouldn’t be good for you to have to come all the way here again, Your Grace."
The receptionist bowed low, voice cracking, before bolting away like a rabbit fleeing a predator.
Amelia blinked, watching her run off. She had not even pressed that hard.
Meanwhile, inside the back room, the receptionist practically wailed at the cluster of employees huddled together.
"Guys! She’s already asking why there are so many people! And if it takes any longer, she’ll leave! She even asked if she should just come back another day! What are you all doing?!"
Her voice cracked with indignation, but when the others turned to look at her, she froze.
Their faces.
Why were they looking like that?
Well, how could they look normal after realizing that, even after the tenth scan, the results were still the same?
The bars were all maxed out.
Still maxed out.
And the recurring question hung in the air like doom itself: was something like this even possible?
Alas, if they could have returned to the days when they were checking the other newly registered mechas under the same mysterious ID, they would have seen similar anomalies. But those earlier ones had all ended with the machine safely spitting out an "S-class" result after the assessments were complete. That way, nothing seemed unusual enough to make the staff lean over the charts with trembling hands and wide eyes.
But this time was different.
This time, the machine simply refused to label it.
Which was why half the office had crowded inside the room, staring at the charts like they might suddenly change under pressure.
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