Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: I Need to Get Out of Here (5)
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Lucas Redan was slumped over in the chair he was tied to.
Blood dripped steadily from his mouth, and his gray civil servant uniform was crumpled beyond recognition, looking utterly pathetic.
Captain Johann Werner flipped back Lucas's eyelids for a moment, confirmed he was out cold, and stretched lazily.
Time for a short break.
He sat down in the chair across from him, lit a cigarette, and scanned the report handed over by his adjutant.
"That Redan family, right?"
"Yes, sir. It's confirmed. It's right there in the intel secured from upstairs."
Johann traced the tiny print in the report with his finger.
The lineage of the old royal house.
Following the tangled lines all the way to the present day led to the surname 'Redan'.
The Redan family had branched off from the royal house in the century before the Republican Revolution, during the chaotic era when the entire continent was in turmoil.
To avoid being massacred by the revolutionaries, they'd surrendered their wealth and made compromises, shrinking down considerably before fading into obscurity in the backwater of backwaters—Heidelberg province.
But the moment Johann heard 'Redan', he immediately thought of the old dynasty's bloodline. Unlike the vast majority of brainless Ossels, he had delved into revolutionary history and Leader Krüger's exploits with the depth of a university professor.
And the fact he'd just learned: the sole survivor of the Redan family was Lucas Redan himself.
"The heir carrying the blood of a fallen royal house."
A twisted smile played on Johann's lips.
He headed over to report to the colonel, who was still tirelessly torturing Assistant Clerk Hoffmann.
"Long live the Great Leader!"
"Long live the Great Leader. So, that clerk Redan or whatever—he really is a betrayer of His Excellency the Leader?"
The colonel set down his blood-soaked whip and asked. Sprawled beside him was Hoffmann, passed out from the overwhelming agony.
"We've extracted confessions several times, but we judge he was merely following orders from his superior and isn't the ringleader. It appears Hoffmann used Redan to shift the blame."
Johann stood ramrod straight and answered crisply.
"Yeah, figures. Anyone betraying His Excellency the great Leader is sly as they come."
Bam!
Whether his rage boiled over again or not, the colonel kicked Hoffmann and dragged him by the collar to dunk his face in a water tank.
"You traitorous dog!"
Splash!
"Daring to cook up such petty schemes?"
Splash!
"Thought you'd fool us by pinning it on your underlings?"
Splash!
"Gah! Hngh!"
Hoffmann, jolted awake by the shock, flailed desperately to escape, but it was hopeless.
Johann watched the scene with a blank expression.
After a while of venting his fury, the colonel jerked his chin at him, face flushed beet red.
"Release the others. I'll wring a confession out of this Hoffmann fellow, so get ready and come in."
"Yes, sir, Colonel."
A full day after being hauled in, Lucas Redan was set free.
"A face-to-face might help loosen his tongue for a confession."
Accepting Johann's argument, the colonel shoved Redan into the very room where Hoffmann was being tortured.
Leaving behind the raving, berserk Hoffmann, Redan was blindfolded along with the others and loaded into a carriage.
"Is it really okay to just let him go like that? Lucas Redan—that guy's definitely..."
The adjutant muttered with a distinctly uneasy look.
"Tch. Guess I've got nothing but idiots around me."
"Pardon?"
"Didn't I tell you?"
Johann stared vacantly at the carriage's rear end as it departed, lips twisting.
"Always look far ahead."
The adjutant clearly didn't get it, but it didn't matter.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Captain Johann Werner tilted his head back to catch the hot breeze from the fan mounted on the wall.
It was already late August, the hottest time of year in Lüdelheim.
A bead of sweat dripped from the face of the adjutant who'd come to report.
This damn Ossel uniform was gorgeous, sure, but it scored zero on practicality. Zero airflow.
"So, Heidelberg went well?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Looks like it wasn't an impersonation after all, just as I suspected."
"Yes, sir! We've confirmed it's the real Lucas Redan."
Johann nodded with a nonchalant expression.
To verify if Lucas Redan was genuine or a fake, he'd dispatched the adjutant all the way to Heidelberg, where the Redan family had put down roots.
"Then why's a guy like that slaving away as a bottom-rung clerk? Sure, they're fallen, but he's still royal blood."
"His father tried his hand at business, it tanked, and the family fortunes declined from there."
"Matches his statement."
Johann pulled out Lucas Redan's self-report from his desk drawer and read it over carefully once more.
It was the one he'd made him write when he was first brought in on Hoffmann's tip-off. Just like with any ideological suspect, he'd told him to jot down his life story from memory.
"Unnecessarily honest, isn't he?"
Johann tapped the self-report against his hand and nodded.
"Dismissed. Get some rest."
"Yes, sir!"
After the adjutant snapped a sharp salute and left, Johann sank into thought.
'Is he really useful?'
He liked weaving threads of connection here and there. No one knew how the winds might shift or what fate might bring.
When crisis hit, connections were every bit as vital as one's own skills or wealth—pure gold.
'If the Leader falls, could I make use of Redan?'
Unlike the colonel, a diehard Krüger loyalist, Captain Johann Werner didn't particularly like Krüger.
No, it wasn't even a matter of like or dislike—he felt absolutely nothing toward the man.
He'd joined the Ossel for the fat paycheck, the power he could wield, and because he was confident he could pass without breaking a sweat.
His striking pure gold-blond hair, handsome blue eyes, and the act of feigning fanaticism for the Leader had been enough to satisfy the interviewers.
Johann had racked up merits by handling the brutal interrogations himself, climbing the ranks swiftly.
Reaching this position at the tender age of thirty was no small feat.
But would the world of the Ossels last a thousand years? Ten thousand?
If Krüger fell, the Ossels would crumble with him. They were bound by fate.
His superior the colonel seemed to believe Krüger was omnipotent, but Johann knew better.
If the man went senile and blundered, lost a war, or—even without that—got assassinated or fell ill, his power would teeter without an heir.
Johann had prepared various cards for such a day.
And 'royal bloodline' was the most tantalizing one he'd seen yet.
If Krüger was toppled and a new regime took over, figures from the old royal house were bound to play key roles.
Most royals had been slaughtered by revolutionaries or fled to third countries, but plenty had survived in hiding, clinging to centuries-old wealth and networks.
He could approach the Redan family then and say,
'Didn't I save your son's life? Without me, he'd have been dew on the execution ground.'
Mention the debt they owed, and who knew? He might snag a nice position.
No matter how pitiful he seemed, he was still a royal scion—and to his family, a child more precious than the apple of their eye.
'But the family's collapsed. Lucas Redan is the last survivor.'
Johann exhaled cigarette smoke and furrowed his brow slightly.
They'd compromised with the revolutionaries and lost their wealth, sure, and the business flop had hurt—but it couldn't have wiped out their vast fortune entirely.
Yet with Lucas Redan himself looking that wretched, he had no choice but to believe it.
"What to do with this."
Too valuable to toss, but not obviously useful to keep.
Of course, Johann's choice in such cases was predetermined.
'Even a trash card beats having none. Who knows what might come up. Always look far ahead.'
That was why he'd designated Lucas a special surveillance target. Naturally, keeping it secret from his colleagues and the colonel.
He'd had his adjutant gather intel on the Redan family. On off-duty days with time to spare, he'd even tailed Lucas Redan personally.
'A tail on a tail, huh?'
From atop a rooftop in the shopping district, Johann gazed down at Redan and mused. What a ridiculous situation.
Redan was being pursued by a young man from the same boarding house. For some reason, he'd been caught tailing the guy.
"Stop right there, Lucas!"
The young man's furious shout echoed through the night streets.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ I panted heavily, staring at Daniel with a face frozen stiff as he aimed his gun at me.
'He had a gun this whole time.'
A compact little pistol, the kind an assassin might carry, pulled from his pocket no less.
A heavy silence settled over the sticky, humid air that hinted at impending rain.
Whether from tension or the aftereffects of the chase, my heart pounded so fiercely my chest ached.
Staring straight down the barrel pointed at my forehead, my whole body went rigid as ice.
"Why were you tailing me?"
Daniel demanded in a gravelly voice.
'Must've really rattled him.'
I forced my stiff lips to relax and flashed a grin.
"...You suspected me first, didn't you?"
He flinched visibly.
"You doubted me, ransacked my room, went to my ex and pumped her for info on me."
I took a step forward, pressing my forehead against the gun barrel.
"So I got curious what you were up to, that's all. Why'd you do it? Why investigate me behind my back? Aren't we friends?"
My forehead stung sharply. I ignored it and locked eyes with Daniel. His pupils shook violently.
"You gonna kill me?"
Now his breathing was louder than mine.
Daniel, heaving ragged breaths, clenched his jaw and slowly lowered the gun. His hand trembled faintly, betraying his unease.
"...You've really changed, Lucas."
He muttered as he tucked the pistol back into his coat pocket.
Only then did the tension drain from me, my legs nearly buckling, but I held firm.
"I've changed?"
"Yeah. You were never this calm before. If anything..."
"Pathetic, right? I know."
Daniel let out a hollow laugh and nodded.
"You were such a nobody, and suddenly... you're not."
"Finally coming clean, huh? So you tailed me because you think I've changed? Why bother? If we're not friends, who cares if my personality shifts?"
"You—!"
He raised his voice in anger at my sarcasm, then deflated.
"You've been dragged off by the Ossels twice now. Both times framed by Hoffmann—at least officially. But that's fishy. Framed? You bragged about rewriting scripts however you wanted."
I leaned against the alley wall and listened quietly.
"And honestly, your attitude didn't scream 'wrongfully accused' like before. At first I thought you'd finally grown up, but nah... more like..."
Daniel's face hardened as he spoke.
"You don't respect His Excellency the Leader anymore."
"Hahahahaha!"
I burst out laughing uncontrollably.
"Sounds just like Hoffmann. What, you gonna rat me out?"
"No. But..."
"You're the same."
"What?"
"You hate the Leader too."
For a split second, the air around us felt three degrees colder.
'This is a gamble. But no real downside.'
I clenched and unclenched my sweaty hands, gazing steadily at Daniel.
"If you wanted me on the gallows, you wouldn't have needed to dig into my background. My guess is, Daniel, you..."
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.
"Were checking if I'm trustworthy. If I'd truly turned traitor. If it's safe to badmouth the Leader with me.
Or even—whether to reveal your secret to me. Whatever it is, a dangerous one that won't end with just prison time."
Daniel stared at me intently, then let out a faint sigh and bowed his head.
He stepped closer and gripped my shoulders.
"Not just your personality—I guess your brains leveled up too. Yeah, spot on. Welcome to the White Crow Unit. Not an invite—a heads-up."
He jabbed the pistol into my side. Refuse here, and it'd punch a hole in my gut.
But it didn't feel bad. If anything, it was like glimpsing a ray of light.
"What an honor."
I gently pushed the gun aside and clasped his hand, shaking it firmly. Seeing Daniel stumble in surprise with an "Uh," I couldn't help but burst out laughing again.