Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Improving the Constitution of a Modern Person (4)
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The snow-covered streets were a muddy mess.
On the road paved with gray stone slabs, people huddled into their overcoats and hurried along.
I was wearing the gray coat that Lucas cherished most, carefully stepping to avoid slipping. My shoe soles were worn down to nothing—if I so much as stumbled, I'd be done for.
"Newspapers here."
I bought one from Georg, as always.
"Long live the great Great Leader!"
I flashed bright smiles and saluted everyone I passed in the office.
This had been my daily routine ever since I killed Hoffmann and got shunned for it. They probably thought I was sick of it.
But this clown show was finally coming to an end.
I entered the dimly lit archive room, dropped the smile, and spread the newspaper out on the desk.
Flipping through the pages of The Zetrom, a fairly well-known local paper covering only Rüdelheim news, I spotted a small article cluster after a while.
📰 Breaking News "The 13th District Where the Great Leader's Loyal Citizens Are Vanishing!" Our paper has consistently reported on the missing persons situation in the 13th District since the 15th. We've highlighted analyses showing that people from the 13th District make up the highest proportion of Rüdelheim's missing persons, and we've covered the regrettable reality that investigations aren't proceeding despite many unreported cases. Then yesterday, an anonymous tipster sent us a shocking letter. According to the tipster, a significant number of the missing from the 13th District are fervent supporters of the great Friedrich Krüger Great Leader, or individuals employed in businesses tied to the free government led by Leader Krüger. To verify this claim, our paper launched an investigation. The results were astonishing. Of the 168 people registered as missing last year, over half—95 citizens—turned out to be model citizens who openly displayed their loyalty to Leader Krüger, or entrepreneurs and workers in government-related businesses... The article was almost exactly as I'd drafted it a few days ago, with Daniel filling in the details—though some phrasing had been tweaked.
Daniel was definitely a good journalist.
He had sharp insight and a real knack for crafting sentences.
Handing a friend like that a job manipulating public opinion left a nagging guilt in the corner of my mind.
'Am I colluding with the press since I'm a government clerk?'
Pfft. A chuckle slipped out.
The article was cunningly twisted fake news.
Daniel had been pitching special features on 13th District disappearances to his newspaper's editor for days.
As a poor freelance journalist, he took whatever gigs he could get from various papers.
This local rag at least gave him regular slots for minor articles, meaning steady work. Though they still vetted everything.
This time, he'd briefed the busy editor on doing a piece on missing persons crimes, and since it seemed harmless, the editor approved.
Ah, "harmless" meaning nothing that would irk Ossel.
Honestly, I'd been skeptical it'd fly, but Daniel's years of legwork had built up enough trust.
Once approved, I took the missing persons stats I'd copied from the archives and slyly distorted them—no, misused them. Deliberately falling into the trap of statistics.
The article claimed a high rate of missing persons in the 13th District, but per capita, it was only slightly above average.
The bit about many being Leader supporters was pure nonsense.
Of course the nation as a whole had far more supporters than detractors. If you didn't profess support, Ossel would drag you away.
The choice of "fervent supporters" was malicious too—most Rüdelheim citizens had enthusiastically backed the Leader early in his tenure, and few hadn't waved flags and chanted his name at big events, willingly or not.
Finally, the claim about many working in government-linked businesses wildly distorted cause and effect.
The Krüger regime had nationalized countless firms, ramped up military spending, and exploded the arms industry.
The cheap land in the 13th District hosted several massive munitions plants. The airship assembly factory where Oscar worked was one.
Unless you were the kind of slum dweller who didn't care who died...
So for any normal 13th District resident living a regular life enough to even make the missing persons stats, working at a state enterprise was par for the course.
Four or five out of ten, easy.
Some might spot the absurdity. But the article was small and dull, so most would skim right past.
Didn't matter. It was written solely for one person's eyes.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Walter Schlick strained to force his stiff lips into a smile.
He wanted to hide his trembling hands, but the clink of his teaspoon against the teacup had already given him away, so he squeezed his eyes shut.
'Even an Ossel captain wouldn't touch a mere district office chief. You'd need at least a major...'
He tried to calm his rattled nerves by coldly analyzing the situation.
But even he, who had navigated countless crises to reach the top of 13th District administration, couldn't stay composed before Ossel.
They both served the Great Leader, but a civil servant and Ossel were worlds apart in authority and influence.
The fact that he, the district office chief, had rushed over at the mere summons of a captain—not even the highest Ossel rank in the 13th—proved it.
No matter that the 13th was the poorest district in Rüdelheim's 16, with little glory for its chief; no matter that all offices had shriveled since Ossel's creation; no matter that a torture-mad major had been replaced by a captain running things.
No, those were trivial.
"Why so tense?"
The man across from him asked in a tone dripping with amusement.
Blond hair, blue eyes, features like a sculpted statue.
Beautiful enough to fit right into Ossel. But Walter knew exactly how viciously that face could twist.
Because he'd been called to observe "subversive" interrogations multiple times. The blank expression as he swung the whip was pure demon.
That was why this meeting was unbearable.
Because Walter knew bone-deep that Ossel's "loyalty" was on another level from us bureaucrats.
In his long career, the only "real lunatics" rivaling Ossel were Assistant Clerk Emil Hoffmann and Clerk Lucas Redan.
But Hoffmann was dead. Framed by Lucas Redan and executed for trying to get him removed...
'But why?'
As office chief who'd monitored his staff, Walter knew better than anyone there was no reason.
The two had been thick as thieves.
He'd learned late that Hoffmann had first snitched on Lucas Redan to Ossel.
And soon after, Hoffmann himself ended up on the gallows.
'Revenge...'
Watching Redan greet everyone with that sunny smile, only one possibility came to mind.
He didn't know the details, but instinct told him Redan had taken Hoffmann out.
After that, he couldn't just suspect Clerk Redan—he found him utterly repulsive.
Walter monitored and evaluated staff daily. He never knew when he'd earn enmity and get offed via Ossel.
It had reached the point of paranoid delusions.
As nominal servants of the Great Leader, he couldn't fire them without cause.
He'd pressured them to quit on their own, but it still drove him mad with anxiety—
Until today, when Captain Johann Werner of Ossel suddenly summoned him without stating the purpose.
Walter forced a grin at Johann.
"Ah, haha. It's just exciting to be called by you after so long—wondering what you'll say."
He watched his words lest they sound sarcastic, but Johann just stared with emotionless eyes.
"No need to get your hopes up. It's nothing major."
Walter lacked the guts to retort that "nothing major" still meant being summoned like a trained dog. He just bowed politely.
"Lieutenant Decker."
Johann beckoned, and his adjutant approached, placing several open newspapers on the table.
While Walter blinked in confusion, Johann kindly pointed to the small article.
'13th District... missing persons?'
He'd never seen it before.
Sure, he read the papers daily, but he didn't subscribe to everything, and local rags like this weren't worth his time.
He got important news from his secretary anyway.
Before he could read closely, Johann spoke in his signature chill voice laced with frost.
"Best to handle it before the higher-ups take notice, no?"
"Ah, yes, yes. Consider it done."
He nodded without knowing what "it" was.
Refusing a demand—no, an order—from Ossel was foolish.
Affirm first, assess the task, execute well if possible, beg if not.
Once out of Johann's house and into his private carriage, he sank into the plush seat and read the article properly.
A sigh burst from his lips.
"How the hell am I supposed to fix this?!"
A bunch of government-business workers missing? So what?
Track them all down? Post guards at factories and firms?
No, no.
Johann Werner wouldn't make such irrational demands. And if he did, he'd tell the police chief, not the office head.
He'd just said keep it from "higher-ups' " ears—meaning pressure this reporter to kill the story.
'Too petty even for Ossel.'
It stung, but what could he do.
"Wait... reporter's Daniel Hartmann. Rings a bell."
"The journalist who came to the office last week for an interview."
His secretary answered promptly.
That jogged his memory.
Some fresh-faced punk claiming to be a reporter had loitered out front demanding missing persons info.
Should've broken his wrist then. Regrettable.
"Send an administrative order to this paper first. And track down this 'anonymous tipster.'"
"Yes, sir."
That should suffice, he thought.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Watching Walter Schlick's carriage depart from the window, Johann turned indifferently.
"Satisfied now?"
"Yeah. He won't bother us again. At least not about this."
Lucas Redan emerged from behind a living room pillar, smirking.
He'd snuck in last night, explained his mad scheme, and asked for help pressuring the office chief.
Johann had nearly burst out laughing right there. If he could laugh anything but a dry cackle.
"Why should I?"
Lucas had repeated his earlier pitch word-for-word.
That he'd become their hunting dog.
And that it'd let the White Crow Unit grow faster to devour them.
When Johann said he had no interest,
Lucas's retort was a sight.
"Fine, I'll gift you to your boss then. The major, right? Rumor has it he's blood-crazed. I'll detail your dealings with the White Crow Unit and me."
Johann almost genuinely laughed.
He knew Johann couldn't do that.
That major would rip Johann, Lucas Redan, and everyone apart without hesitation.
Lucas knew it too, making the threat transparent.
But the real kicker? Lucas knew Johann saw through it and threatened him anyway.
"Brazen little brat. That desperate to prove you're a useful hound?"
Showing that guts before Johann—declaring they'd all die together if he didn't help, face unchanging.
"Yeah, that's my wish."
Lucas Redan laughed for him.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The next day, shocking news rocked Rüdelheim.
The daughter of a famous entrepreneur—a prestigious university student—had gone missing.