Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Backroom Commission Specialist (3)
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1.
The jolting car interior.
I took the wheel of Eiming's car in his stead, heading toward H Sector.
What, you think it's okay to drive after drinking?!
Yeah, it's fine.
In Necropolis, drunk driving doesn't even qualify as a misdemeanor.
What if you hit someone?!
Yeah, that's fine too.
Master Hyun Gwi of Phantom Ghost Clan will handle the insurance.
"Rowen."
"Yes, Brother."
The car glided smoothly through the darkness.
Eiming, reeking of booze and unusually sentimental today, let out a deep sigh from the back seat.
"You know that all mages are crazy, right?"
"Is that so? Seeing you, Brother, it doesn't seem entirely true...."
"No. Ahh, yeah... I'm crazy somewhere deep down too. Heh heh."
Here we go again with this guy.
Once Eiming gets some alcohol in him, his emotions go into overdrive, and he starts spilling facts no one asked for.
Usually, it's less self-pity and more him getting drunk on the idea of 'me, boldly living as Pavilion Master of Phantom Ghost Clan despite harboring such sorrow.'
But hey, I pounded shots with him too, feeling all buddy-buddy.
I can listen to his rambling for the affinity boost.
It's good world-building too.
"You know normal humans can't become mages, right?"
"Yes, because their heart core isn't attuned to magic, isn't it?"
"No, it's a deeper issue. Normal people compromise with reality. Magic is an act of defying the world.
You need an overwhelming ego that affirms 'my world' over the reality in front of you."
"Isn't that the heart core, Brother?"
"No, it's different from the heart core. Every mage has a 'flaw' that ordinary humans can't possess.
Whether it's a horrific deficiency, a longing that surpasses human limits, or endlessly twisted desire. A flaw that sustains their bloated ego. We mages call this flaw by a special name."
Eiming lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and murmured in a low voice.
"Heavenly Mandate."
This guy's explanation skills are trash.
Suddenly missing Ceres Witch-Mother's sweet, eye-level lessons.
"That Heavenly Mandate lets them cross walls ordinary humans can't. You can't become a mage without devouring your Heavenly Mandate. That's why all mages are, essentially, insane."
Hmm, so Ceres and Ines are the poster mom-and-daughter for mental cases.
Arbel's the bunny girl mental case.
So Eiming's Heavenly Mandate is his fetish?
Isn't that just fancy packaging for weird kinks?
As I pondered dubiously, the car arrived at the spot in H Sector that Eiming had directed.
H Sector's role is landfill.
The place where Aden dumps its trash.
Trash piled like mountains nearly filled the entire wide ravine rift.
Even that had been picked clean of anything usable by scavengers, leaving only pure garbage in this abandoned sector.
"Brother, we're here. This the spot? Nothing around...."
"You got it right. Follow me."
What a gloomy place.
"This way."
Eiming kicked a steel hatch in the middle of the trash heap.
-Clunk!
With a heavy thud, the hatch yawned open.
Inside, stairs stretched into endless underground darkness.
-Clank clank clank
Descending the stairs, we were greeted by complex locks and three layers of thick iron doors like a bunker.
"Ooh...."
"Exciting, huh?"
"Yes!"
Kinda pumped now~
Bunker, hideout, shelter. All words that set a man's heart ablaze.
If I had a bunker like this, I'd be a Fallout apocalypse celeb, right?
-Clunk
Pushing open the final iron door revealed Eiming's hideout at last.
I'd expected a bunker vibe, but no.
The interior was like the luxury hotel lounge I'd stayed at in Macau.
Tiger skin rug on the floor, velvet sofa, ebony table.
A exquisite blend of East and West, you could say?
Cedric's a bit disappointed.
Slum life's got me eating cockroach cubes, but here it's dripping with money.
"You're the first person I've brought here besides me, Rowen."
"Really? I'm honored!"
"Wait here a sec. Until I call you in."
"Yes, sir!"
I waited in front of the thick wooden door.
What's he dragging this out for?
I had a pretty good guess.
Obviously Project Z, right?
Hand it over to Gisella, or tip off Overnus?
This is a major fork in the road for Eiming too.
Only five days till Project Z kicks off, so time to decide.
Natural he'd want to consult his trusted little bro.
A moment later.
Eiming called from beyond the door.
"Rowen."
"Yes, Brother. Listening."
"I believe human bonds are about depth, not length. Though ours is short, I want it to last long with you, Rowen."
"Meaning...."
"You're not Little Bro. You're my right hand."
"Brother!!!"
Whoa, I don't need it that serious....
Just show me the docs quick and let's brainstorm what to do.
I'm ready to convince you to go full human bidet with that resolve.
But thinking it over, not bad.
In this shithole city, scoring a solid backer like Eiming ain't nothing to sneeze at.
Of course, gotta be careful not to let my secret meets with Ceres slip.
"But first, remember the Heavenly Mandate I mentioned?"
"Yes, Brother."
"You've heard the rumors about me, I assume."
"Yeah, I have."
"Necrophilia. Corpse fucker. That sort of thing?"
"Brother, no worries. Even if the world points fingers at your Heavenly Mandate, your little bro Rowen can accept it."
A faint chuckle.
"Yeah, I knew my Yoobi would say that. But that's all misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?"
"I'll show you. My true Heavenly Mandate."
-Creeeak!
The door opened.
Squinting from the blinding light, then opening my eyes again.
A bizarre room like a dollhouse come to life filled my view.
A doll on a lavish tea table, perfectly made up, smiling with teacup in hand.
A doll in a kimono on the velvet sofa, reading a book.
A princess-dress doll leaning under a golden candelabra, fan half-covering her face.
Dozens of dolls, each meticulously made up, gleaming glass eyes in empty sockets.
Decorating the room.
Of course, these weren't crafted dolls.
Nor was this room a dollhouse recreating a girl's dream ballroom.
It was an exhibition of perfectly embalmed corpses.
"The rumors out there are an insult to my art."
The exhibitor stood in the center.
Shu-en Eiming, tattooed burly body draped in a beautiful dress, full makeup.
"...I'm just an artist lonely pursuing ultimate beauty. This is my Heavenly Mandate."
He blended unnaturally into his collection.
No, fuck.
What the hell am I looking at?
"I believe beauty must be eternal. Eternal beauty lies in death. And I want to become one with them. Even if to others, it looks ugly."
Aaaah!!!! You fucking bastard!!!!
Shut your bullshit!!! How is this a Heavenly Mandate!!!
It's just your kink!!! Don't dress it up cool!!!
"What do you think? Can you still call a guy like me Brother?"
In front of Eiming, dolled up with makeup and wig, wearing a bitter self-mocking smile.
Even the great Cedric couldn't keep a straight face.
The dolls were one thing, but crossdressing Eiming was turning my stomach.
Wanted to duplicate the Mysterious Insect Scripture with a lost receipt and bail.
Fuck, I don't know anymore.
Flattery or shallow lies won't cut it here. My face already gave it away.
"Brother, honestly... I don't get it. Why this is art, or why you're dressed like that."
"Yeah, figured."
Regret, disappointment, self-mockery, resignation.
Complex emotions flickered across Eiming's face.
"But that doesn't matter. You trusted me, Brother, and showed your little bro everything."
"......!"
"That alone is enough to set my heart ablaze."
"...Rowen, you...."
-Flutter!
I stripped off my clothes.
"Give me a dress too, Brother! Whatever hill you're climbing, I'll go with you!"
"Rowen!!!!"
First time crossdressing in my life.
Surprisingly, stockings give psychological comfort.
...Didn't wanna know that.
2.
After dolling up pretty in the mirror.
Listening to Eiming's grinning explanations by his side.
I learned some facts even Ceres hadn't told me.
"The docs say 'Awakening Serum Z,' but I believe that biochemical weapon's essence is a diluted liquid of True Ancestor blood."
"The goal of this experiment is probably clinical trials to control the True Ancestor."
"Resource acquisition is just a pretext."
Eiming might look dumb, but he's a 2nd Rank Mage, Pavilion Master of Phantom Ghost Clan.
If not for the stockings charm, recruitment might've failed.
But as expected, Eiming felt massive pressure just possessing the 'Project Z data.'
The betrayal and data snag during Ceres negotiations went perfect.
But he doubted if handing it to Gisella would really get him Ceres's corpse.
"If Overnus Pharma finds out I hid such crucial data, that's a problem too. So I want your take."
"What do I know, Brother."
"But you've got killer instincts, Rowen. I've been impressed by you more than once or twice."
Obviously, my line here was 'Doesn't feel right, Brother.'
"Why not hunker down and aim for the greater good?"
"Hmm, nahhh... I really want Ceres in my collection...."
"But you get nothing out of it, Brother. Plus the risk of feeding her the formless poison."
"But stiiill...."
"If you can't hold back... I'll get you Director Ceres's anklet."
"Anklet... the foot chain?"
"Yes, that silver one Director Ceres always wears."
"...For real?"
For the next three days and nights, I shadowed and persuaded Eiming.
He agonized, but eventually made an unmarked copy and handed it to Overnus Pharma.
After that, smooth sailing.
Overnus Pharma, now aware of Project Z, sent top-level protest letters and mustered forces centered on Crimson Dragon Clan.
Faced with threats of civil war if Twilight Resource Development proceeded, even the reckless Twilight caved.
Gisella, the most hardline of the 11 directors pushing Project Z, took full blame and resigned.
Ceres's influence in that was plain as day.
And on the awaited day 15.
"You're... amazing... Hold on! I'm talking!"
"After, after we talk?"
10 seconds, 9 seconds.
I counted down like New Year's, peering out the window.
Soon.
Any moment now.
3
2
1
0
No deafening siren.
No street alert for riot.
Meaning Project Z was stopped.
Yes!!! Clear!!!
The thrill of instant payback for all the hell!
Relief of no more death!
And Ceres Witch-Mother's reward!
Dopamine overload.
I buried myself in the soft, sweat-damp bosom of Ceres Witch-Mother.
Ahh, feels like I'll melt away....
"Whew... We survived... Fucking exhausting...."
Damn... Two weeks of pure grind.
No clue how to clear this at first.
Wanna veg for a week straight.
Overjoyed, I sobbed into the symbol of maternal love.
"We survived!!! I survived!!! Fuck! Survived!!!"
She paused a beat, then patted my back.
"Sigh... I told you, right? No need to worry that much...."
"Ceres...."
Too sweet!
Is her warmer attitude this round just my imagination? Or 'cause I delivered real gains?
Either way, affection I couldn't dream of at first meet.
That this sweet Ceres Witch-Mother hides an abyss like Eiming's?
No way I buy that.
Eiming that bastard lied out of shame, obviously?
Anyway.
After countless fails and twists, Project Z blocked.
Smooth ties with Shu-en Eiming established.
With Ceres Witch-Mother, potential mother-daughter threesome enjoy-ship plus master-disciple solidified.
No more facing that bitch Kisara.
Hated every sight, never again.
Time for final settlement.
"Ceres, shower first?"
"I'll rest more. You go ahead."
"Aw, come on. Let me wash you. The body wash I gifted? Killer, right?"
"Sigh... Always so chatty."
Personally, an event I'd been eyeing.
Wondered what lewd secrets our Ceres Witch-Mother hides.