Xidriel sat there, frozen in shock.

If he were to trust the memory fragments he had inherited, the Inquisitors were a group of a select few who worked for the three major religions in the Kingdom of Sezia; they were granted power and authority that surpasses even that of the oldest royal family in the continent.

Some say that the position is hereditary to those who were born into families favored by the Church of Lasuina, the Church of A-rao, and the Church of Ilkaipati; rumors have it that they were also directly bestowed divine blessings from the Gods themselves.

They are blessed humans that are tasked to crack down on the heretics, to hunt down rogue Angels and keep humanity safe from factions who want to devour their world.

However, as time wore on, the majority of the people considered them as myths or stories propagated by the early preachers to control the public during the time they were converting the people from paganism.

Their story, however, inspired the formation of a handful of organizations, with most of them not being recognized or affiliated to any of the Churches due to conflict of interests.

If memory serves right, a few of those said organizations were nothing but a glorified fraternity group that the ‘spare’ children of the upper classes made to make themselves feel superior to others because of their connections, and to hide the fact that they were not considered to be the heir to their respective territories.

There are those who truly contribute positively to their community, but there are also cases of violence and hazing within and outside of their groups that the local police forces are having problems dealing with because of the noble lineages of the perpetrators.

While they’re not truly considered a faction in the political sphere, they have a strong presence within the trade market that even the Merchant Guild sees them as a threat.

The red haired gentleman before him is most likely a member of such a fraternity group, judging by how he needed to emphasize his affiliation.

The original Xidriel did not like those groups, and has turned down a lot of requests from different organizations over the years. To think that he’d be indebted to one of their members…

Xidriel then forced himself to smile as he started thinking of a way to weasel himself out of being talked into joining their group. “Come now…the Inquisitors don't exist. They’re nothing but myths. Besides, I have to go home. My family’s probably worried about me.”

Amon gazed at him quietly before looking down on the table and picked up his utensils to eat. “Think however you want, but I insist that you think your situation over for the next two days. My colleague would have arrived by then, and we could discuss things further.”

Xidriel only gave him an incredulous look, wondering if he’s actually so hung up on pretending to be an Inquisitor like those super fans back in his home world, to the point that they made it their whole personality, to everyone’s annoyance.

Not wanting to talk further with Amon, Xidriel quietly picked up his utensils and slowly started eating. Midway through their meal, Xidriel glanced back at the sleeping child.

“What about the boy? Did he open his eyes when I was asleep…?”

Amon briefly looked up from his food to look at the occupied bed. “No.”

“Shouldn’t we send for someone to check on him?”

“No need.”

“What? Why not? He could’ve ingested something dangerous that’s keeping him in that catatonic state!”

Amon’s face scrunched up a little. “It’s best that thing stays asleep.”

Xidriel almost yelled at him out of indignation but held himself back.

How could he treat a child like that?

Noticing Xidriel’s expression, Amon sighed and gave him a placating smile. “I understand how you’d confuse that thing for an actual, living child as it does resemble a weak and powerless one after all, but that’s actually a nearly perfected homunculus.”

Xidriel stared at him, his brain struggling to process what Amon had just said. “What…? That’s…that’s impossible.”

Homunculus only exists in theories and fiction, whether in this world or his previous one!

This man before him is taking his delusion of being one of those mythical Inquisitors too far!

“I agree. It should have been impossible.” Amon replied as he resumed eating. “Yet, it’s right before our eyes. I’m actually more surprised you managed to get out of there alive…”

Xidriel sat there, full of disbelief.

He doesn’t want to deal with this anymore!

He demands to talk to whichever deity that brought him here and explain themselves for doing this to him!

After sharing an uncomfortable meal, Amon left the room for a smoke break as the teenage girl from earlier came in to take away their used plates and glasses.

Xidriel, who is still seated and annoyed at Amon, turned his attention to the girl. “You don’t happen to serve candied blueberries in this place, do you?”

Even though he had just eaten dinner, the amount served was too little to his liking. He’s grateful that the original Xidriel was also a fellow food connoisseur who would only feel full after eating some after-meal snacks, and he’s glad that he’s not acting out of character.

He’d put it on Amon’s tab and then pay him back twofold once he gets home, and then cut off all communications before Amon could bring up the topic of him joining their organization.

The girl only stared at him, wide eyed. “Um…no, sir…”

“Walnuts? Salted cashews?”

“Um…no…”

“Beet and spinach salad?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, sir…ours is but a humble inn in the countryside…”

Xidriel only pursed his lips and waved the girl off.

Of course, the things he’s used to eating are only served to nobles in this world…

He sighed as he slumped down on the now clean table, his gaze unfocused.

Since he can’t go anywhere with his injured feet and he doesn’t want to feel hungry from moving too much, he might as well organize his thoughts of the events that led to his transmigration.

In his original world, he was moping in his room because he had hit rock bottom in his life and had moved back to his family’s home. The snide comments from his family didn’t help with his mental health either.

The woes of growing up as the youngest and underperforming Asian child after being praised as a prodigy since he was three years old consumed him, leading him to recklessly drink alcohol to wash down his anxiety medications and went to sleep, only to wake up in his current situation.

He has to admit that what he did was plain stupid, but that doesn’t warrant a transmigration with no hints of what he’s supposed to do in this new world, right?

As for the original Xidriel, he snuck out of his home, got kidnapped and sacrificed. The memories did not provide any time frames, so he’s not sure how long he’s been missing too, but surely his family’s looking for him, right?

Nothing in his recent memories really stood out to him, apart from making the reckless decision of going out without a bodyguard, as any proper noble would.

He closed his eyes, rifling through each memory fragment, convincing himself that the original Xidriel was the one at fault for everything that had occurred, since Amon wouldn’t have asked if he had come upon any suspicious items if it wasn’t irrelevant.

As he grumbled under his breath for not finding anything that could help his situation, the once sleeping child on the bed slowly stirred awake.