Chapter 31
Chapter 31
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Modern Man's Physique Enhancement (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Emmet Braithner was a prominent figure in the local social circles, elevated to that status thanks to his generous personality and overwhelming wealth.
He sponsored regional events with the profits from managing his textile factory and regularly threw parties to flaunt his immense fortune.
Despite the ominous rumors that his wife had fallen ill and secluded herself away, plenty of people liked him because his outward demeanor was so magnanimous and straightforward.
Now, that very Emmet was flying into a rage, shouting with a ferocious scowl on his face.
"Where the hell did this leak from?! Fire them all!"
He savagely flung aside the newspaper that the butler had fetched for him. His bellow echoed thunderously through the quiet mansion, making all the servants shrink back in fear.
His daughter had vanished the night before.
No, he couldn't even pinpoint exactly when she'd disappeared.
According to the maids, she'd left the house around lunchtime, saying she had an appointment with her professor.
In the afternoon, the worried professor had called the house when she failed to show up at the meeting spot, sending the mansion into an uproar.
Emmet Braithner had rushed home after getting word from the butler and ordered the servants to scour every inch around the estate.
Erika had grown into a rather curt young woman, but as a child, she'd been a real tomboy—running wild in the nearby hills and streams, getting hurt, or falling asleep on park benches.
With that in mind, he'd sent them to search all her old childhood haunts, but it turned up nothing.
By then, dusk was already falling.
After coming up empty-handed, Emmet Braithner grilled the maids relentlessly.
Erika sometimes stayed out late meeting friends, so he'd waited until the dead of night, wondering if she'd simply forgotten her appointment and gone off to play. But she never returned.
"S-Sir, perhaps we should contact the police..."
"Absolutely not! Handle this quietly—no one can know!"
The butler suggested it cautiously, but Emmet tore at his mustache and bellowed back.
His wife's issues were already prime gossip fodder behind closed doors. If word got out that his daughter had gone missing—or worse, run away—he was finished.
This wasn't just a matter of a tarnished image.
Leader Krüger placed great emphasis on morality and the notion of an "ideal family." He despised those who couldn't keep their households in check.
In political circles, ministers from whom rumors of family discord leaked had been demoted multiple times, and businessmen friendly with them had their companies seized on the Leader's orders.
Some even fabricated family conflicts out of thin air to denounce rivals or enemies.
Moreover, with the old aristocratic traditions lingering and fostering a subtly decadent, hypocritical elite culture, if this got out, his daughter's future would be utterly bleak.
They might offer sympathy to his face, but behind his back, they'd wag their tongues with disgusting questions: What really happened? What had she gotten into?
Her marriage prospects would dry up, forcing him to lower her standards just to find a match...
"But..."
"No more backtalk! Send every servant out and search again—properly this time! Check the university too!"
"Yes, sir."
They'd kept it under wraps to avoid any leaks outside, but a thread of unease lingered.
He'd made excuses to the professor to keep him quiet, but anyone who knew the Braithner mansion's staff might sense something was up.
Still, this was too fast!
"Who the hell is this Daniel Hartmann guy?!"
A servant sent to check the university had come back in a panic with the front page of the newspaper plastered with Erika's face.
"MISSING!!!"
in massive letters alongside it.
📰 Breaking News Erika Braithner, a university student residing in Lüdelheim's 8th District, has gone missing. She is the daughter of Emmet Braithner, a local notable who runs a textile factory. Those around her unanimously describe her as refined and intelligent, an "ideal Schupaven woman" in line with the Great Leader's teachings. Braithner vanished yesterday around 1 p.m. after leaving home to meet her mentor, leaving many heartbroken. Anyone with information on her whereabouts, please contact the police, Mr. Braithner, or this newspaper. They could source her photo from wherever it'd been circulated before, but how had some two-bit reporter gotten such specific details?
The only explanation was that one of the servants had let it slip carelessly.
"What will you do, sir?"
The butler asked, thoroughly cowed, as Emmet huffed and puffed.
Emmet sighed and slumped into an armchair. In the morning light, the wrinkles around his eyes and the gray streaks in his hair made him look a decade older overnight.
"...No helping it. Gather all the servants for now. I'll contact the police myself."
He muttered in a feeble voice.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "We're from the 13th District office. We have orders to collect these—your cooperation is appreciated."
"Y-Yes, of course..."
I flashed my ID at the terrified newsboy and took the few remaining copies.
The office head's attempt to suppress Daniel's article had obviously failed. Upon hearing the report, he'd thrown a fit and ordered all staff to collect the papers.
Even I, who'd been holed up anxiously in the archives, got dragged out for it.
"From the 13th District office."
"They already collected them this morning."
Georg grinned brightly and shook his newspaper bag. I grinned back.
"Guess I was too late."
"Yeah, but we sold a ton before they did. Everyone stopped to gawk, wondering what the fuss was."
"Good work. Keep it up, and we'll be fine. Take care."
"You too, bro!"
I turned away as if nothing had happened and headed to the next district.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A customer sat in the chair, feet up on the footrest, as the shoe-shine boy vigorously polished his shoes.
The boy's face was smudged with grime, but the customer's shoes were starting to gleam spotlessly.
"Hey, customer, heard the news? Braithner the factory owner's daughter..."
The boy, covered in soot from cleaning a chimney, bowed deeply to the kind-hearted lady who'd given him a glass of milk.
"Thank you, ma'am. For such a fine gift, I'll share some juicy gossip from last night..."
In the bustling shopping street, several boys with white rags were scrubbing shop windows with gusto.
"Hey, scrub harder! Make 'em crystal clear!"
"Got it!"
"Good work today."
A passing mailman greeted the boys.
"Hey, mister."
"Mister, you hear the rumors? It's blowing up right now."
They were all kids who lived with Georg.
Skinny as rails, they hustled daily through the streets—yet earned barely half what adult laborers made.
Realizing they couldn't survive alone, the kids banded together, and over time, Georg became their de facto leader.
There had been plenty of fights, violence, and spilled blood to adapt to street life and claim that spot, but that didn't matter now.
The police had once rounded up orphans indiscriminately under the banner of "street cleaning," but when cheap labor vanished and citizens complained of inconveniences, they quietly looked the other way.
Of course, they still swept the kids off the streets during events or when the Leader ventured out.
In the end, Georg's crew ruled the 13th District's streets in their own way.
Selling papers, delivering milk, shining shoes, sweeping chimneys, polishing windows, picking up trash—they filled their roles in society.
And they always eavesdropped on customers and passersby, spreading the word.
It wasn't just loose lips.
They needed stories to entertain bored patrons, and as day-to-day survivors who could get nabbed anytime, staying informed was crucial.
So that morning, Georg's offhand mention of the "Erika Braithner disappearance" became prime bait to get through the day.
Rumors spread like wildfire.
Newsboys to regular salarymen customers, salarymen to coworkers, coworkers to restaurant owners, owners to high school daughters, daughters to friends...
By lunchtime, Erika's disappearance had blanketed all of Lüdelheim, impossible to contain.
At the same time, the 8th District precinct issued a statement and launched an investigation.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 40 hours after the disappearance.
Every newspaper splashed the Erika case across their front pages.
Most were rip-offs of Daniel Hartmann's article.
Emmet Braithner was far too busy dealing with reporters to give exclusives.
Still, journalists swarmed the Braithner mansion like a siege, and a few zealous ones tailed Emmet like paparazzi.
But when he exploded and yelled at them, they scattered.
No one wanted to provoke a man whose daughter had vanished—especially one rumored to have government ties.
Braithner met with the precinct chief, pulled every string for Ossel's help, and mobilized his entire factory staff for the search.
Time marched on.
Police combed the mansion grounds meticulously, but reporters had already trampled it, leaving footprints everywhere. Fresh snow had melted too, washing away traces.
They even brought in police dogs to track Erika's scent. But the eager hounds stopped at the edge of the 8th District.
Too many people, too many mingled smells.
Still, they got something.
The dogs revealed Erika's path veered far from her usual haunts.
Plus, inquiries showed she hadn't used streetcars or carriages.
Putting it together, investigators concluded: not a runaway or lost child—this was a kidnapping.
52 hours after the disappearance.
Newspapers unleashed fresh breaking news in unison.
Erika Braithner's photo graced the front pages again.
Emmet Braithner had announced a reward for anyone finding Erika—or her kidnapper.
The police weren't thrilled. The precinct chief insisted they just needed more time to nab the perp, but Emmet's patience was wearing thin.
54 hours after the disappearance.
Something huge happened.
The precinct chief stared at a telegrammed directive, his face drained of color.
"Damn it all..."
An order straight from the Leader's residence.
⚙ OFFICIAL DIRECTIVE ⚙ The Great Leader expresses grave concern over the current incident. Furthermore, regarding the recent article in the Lüdelheim local paper The Zetrom claiming "multiple disappearances among citizens fervently supporting the Leader," He warns that "if true, local police officials will face severe accountability." Resolve the Erika Braithner kidnapping case with utmost haste. The damage was done—irreversible.
"It's reached the Leader's ears. If we don't find the real kidnapper—or at least the girl's body—it's my head."
He wasn't the only one who'd get this memo. The case might transfer to police HQ by morning.
He shot to his feet. No time to waste.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 'Erika, you holding up okay?'
I gazed at my breath freezing white in the frigid air and wondered.
It was brutally cold out.
Bound hand and foot, without food or water, trapped in that icy cave—how long could Erika last?
"Alright, let's go, Collin."
2 a.m.
If we hustled now, we could "rescue" her in under four hours.
I glanced up at the darkened boarding house, then took off running with Collin.