Karma

Despair. Terror. Chaos. Sorrow. Anxiety.

Unlike his body, which had screamed, unable to withstand the onslaught of all those negative emotions at once, Zikmel's mind had raced toward the best possible choice to defuse this situation.

"Do you have any idea who this is?! You pulled this bullshit on him, you fucking asshoooole!"

Taking in Ben's face, swollen from what was clearly a beating, Zikmel grasped the situation. To preserve his own sanity, he let out a shout and flew through the air, landing a spectacular flying kick right on Ben.

-WHAM!

"Aaargh! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!!"

Ben, on the receiving end of a flying kick delivered with every ounce of strength that trampled the documents on the desk, and Zikmel, who had delivered it, both went tumbling across the floor in a heap. Zikmel hadn't just kicked his subordinate with full force; by blindly stomping and leaping forward, he'd turned the desk into a disaster zone, yet he didn't regret it in the slightest.

On the contrary, Zikmel had every confidence he could argue at any time that it had been the ideal choice, one that covered for both himself and his subordinate in this situation. But that alone was woefully inadequate, so Zikmel couldn't even think about getting up from his fallen position. Instead, he slammed his head against the floor with a thud and shouted.

"It's been too long! Eldmia Ega!!"

"Right? You do know me, don't you?"

He'd thought a reaction this extreme would at least make him pause, but no matter what kind of life he'd lived, the terror incarnate before him was utterly unruffled.

Even as Zikmel inwardly marveled at the sight, goosebumps rose all over his body because Eldmia was pondering, 'I've definitely seen him, but where had I seen him?'

He couldn't hide it.

Even Eldmia remembering first could become a risk factor. Zikmel's intellect, honed over years of working as an information broker, and his instincts sent the same signal.

He'd already been let off back then with both legs shattered, so surely Eldmia wasn't holding a grudge. If he awkwardly kept silent instead, Eldmia might think he was trying to dodge responsibility and finish him off. Having reached that conclusion, Zikmel's tongue went to work without hesitation.

"I'm Zikmel, the one who ran his mouth in Ogwen without knowing his place and insulted the elf you were living with, only for you to show mercy by breaking just my legs and letting me get out alive!! It's been a while since I paid my respects!! And I'm sorry I didn't train my subordinate properly!!"

He slammed his head against the floor over and over, making more of a bang than a thud, but Zikmel had no time to feel the pain.

Because the return of a terror he hadn't felt in years didn't allow him the luxury of registering such a thing as pain.

"Ah! You're the one who tipped me off about that warehouse back then?"

"That's correct!"

"Wow, it's a small world. You were in the capital?"

Zikmel thought the world wasn't merely small—it was so absurdly tiny that, if he survived today, he wanted to pack his bags and move to the Empire.

But after coolly assessing the fact that Eldmia had shown no sign of guessing he'd be here, that the 'employee' he'd personally dragged in was someone from the stolen goods side of the operation, and that even though he'd beaten the man up, Eldmia hadn't smashed the hideout to pieces—instead approaching specifically ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the guise of a 'customer'—there was, unexpectedly, hope.

"Right now, thanks to you, Eldmia Ega, I've learned an important lesson, distanced myself from violence, and am working as an information broker! The very fact that you graced me with your presence so quietly instead of smashing the entrance to bits, combined with what I heard through Ben, leads me to believe you need my abilities as an information broker! I, Zikmel, will do everything in my power to find it, so please, just leave it to me!!"

"Huh. I don't know about anything else, but I can tell you've gotten ridiculously smarter. From the way you talk to how you read a situation, that's no ordinary feat."

"I pride myself ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on doing quite well in this business! I will! Definitely be of help!"

Please, please, just don't draw your sword.

Four years ago, he'd been tall, but now, even just wearing a uniform, he felt like looking at a knight in armor. Zikmel forcibly suppressed the intense question—what kind of nerve had he possessed to pick a fight with a human like that?—surging up inside him. He stopped even breathing and waited for Eldmia's answer.

"I originally came ready to smash about half the place to pieces, so how nice is it that we can communicate so well? Just the fact that the belief instillation clearly took means you pass. Get up. Your head must hurt. Still, you're the boss of an organization now, so you should care about your dignity, you know."

And Zikmel's wish came true.

It worked. He survived.

Looking at the terror of the past who personally helped him to his feet, Zikmel almost wept with emotion.

◈

"But thing is, what I need is connected to nobles. I'm a complete outsider to your line of work, but even I know these fields are strictly divided. Is it doable?"

I asked as I helped Zikmel up—the man who'd been slamming his head with enough force to crack his own skull.

Since the past was the past and I'd already finished instilling belief in this guy, I could have just treated him normally, but with him reacting this dramatically, I naturally ended up speaking gently too.

And anyway, Zikmel, who'd paid for his poor vocabulary with his bones, hadn't just avoided being crippled; he'd proudly set himself up as an information broker in a corner of the capital and even picked up a side business. It could only have been about four years, so this guy must have lived one hell of a life too.

"I've been feeding my people solely on information about nobles since I was still operating in another city! I can definitely be of help!"

"That confidence is damn impressive! Still, this is a bit touchy. For starters, I want to send that guy out and keep talking..."

"Of course! Ben! Go outside and make sure no one enters until I say so... no, tea! Just bring out tea and after that, make sure no one comes in!"

"Yes, boss!"

The way that guy Ben dashed out like lightning said plenty—Zikmel seemed to run his organization pretty well. I had no idea what he'd realized after getting beaten by me, but at this point he'd genuinely turned over a new leaf.

Zikmel went back to the desk he'd cluttered, unapologetically swept all the documents to one side, and cleared a place for me. Genuinely impressed, I sat down and got straight to the point.

"So, there's a traitorous bastard in the capital. I want to find some info on that son of a bitch. I know it's dangerous, so I'm not telling you to overdo it and find out. I'm just trying since the opportunity came up."

Zikmel, who'd become an extremely sensible, ordinary citizen, was already starting to panic just at the word 'traitor,' his eyes flying wide open. Yeah, I fully understand. The word 'treason' originally carries about that much weight.

"Th-that, uh, how did you come to know of it?"

"Today... wait. Something's off about how you phrased that."

Not "what circumstances led you to sense something," but it felt more like he was asking how I knew the 'fact' that there was a traitor. Could it be...?

"You. Do you know something?"

"...Yes."

Thankfully, instead of trying to half-assedly deceive me or pretend he didn't know, he acknowledged it. If he'd tried to hide it, I would have had to consider the possibility this guy was involved in the treason and act accordingly.

But honestly, I hadn't expected to hit a jackpot like this. Or not? Should I still wait and see?

After stroking the beard that was just starting to sprout on his chin and organizing his thoughts for a moment, Zikmel continued speaking without any particular attempt to hide anything.

"I moved to the capital about three months ago, but even in the city I was in before, I'd heard some rumors. That acts defying royal orders were frequently being observed in some of the border territories. I thought this might be my chance to set up shop in the capital, so I left that place to my subordinates and rushed here. Still, as if to prove it's treason, I couldn't catch a single clue... until about five days ago? They started leaking things."

"Leaking? What?"

"Ah, information, I mean. I should say control is slipping, or that because they were rushing so damn much, things they'd meticulously hidden kept getting dropped one by one. Or maybe it's like someone's deliberately spreading it... I can't quite explain it well, but anyway, that's the feeling."

"It's probably organized somewhere in here," Zikmel muttered as he skillfully rummaged through the mountain of documents piled on another desk. He quickly fished out a few sheets of paper, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠placed them in front of me, and continued.

"At first, I simply thought the Noble Council was preparing to prune branches as part of their faction fight with the Royal Faction because Margrave of Levien had suddenly achieved results during his visit to the Empire. But the movements were a bit strange. The Royal Faction was quiet, yet the inside of the Noble Council was noisy. The young new nobles, unlike usual, suddenly went quiet among themselves. Some of the old noble faction were suddenly distancing themselves from a few of the new nobles they'd gotten along well with."

The back-alley street brat I'd turned half-crippled really had evolved into an information broker!

Is it because it's a field I know nothing about? How does him just touching paper while spouting what seems like nothing feel so damn professional?

"And then I found this. Years ago, after the Levien Margraviate was razed by the Demon King's Army, one noble poured considerable wealth and manpower into finding Ragnis Lien da Levien—the daughter of the previous Margrave of Levien, whose fate was unknown at the time."

"You dug that far back into old history to find that?"

"This kind of gold-nugget information is actually quite common to find this way."

The documents Zikmel handed over contained a noble's personal details, meticulously recorded.

"Naturally, I figured it was about the previous Margrave of Levien's legacy and left it at that. But wouldn't you know, I started seeing a trail showing they were sneaking around like a bunch of goddamn thieves. So I dug deeper, and the result... is that."

"Loan sharking, slave markets, breeding wyverns out in the borderlands, keeping more private soldiers than allowed—and on top of all that, you're saying they might even have contacted the Demonfolk? Fuck?"

"He ran wild like it was his own world, having no fear of the law whatsoever. Made my blood run cold just watching, honestly."

Isn't this an airtight treason charge? Wait, but if it's information even Zikmel could find out, then the kingdom... no, they didn't not know.

"So that's why Duke Lesrom reacted that way. He knew about this."

"A d-duke?"

"Yeah. I just met with him and was on my way back. I heard the traitor story there too—whether this bastard is that bastard or not, I mean."

".....Oh my god. The Margrave of Levien's attendant who started a swordfight in the temporary detention center. Was that you, Eldmia?!"

"Wow. That's genuinely impressive. Information about that already came in? Wait, if information is that fast, why'd you react like you didn't know I was here?"

Wasn't it stranger that the guy who'd just been spilling information in torrents had no idea I was in the capital, or even that I'd been continuously active?

"That's because, ultimately, stories about nobles leak out from within their relationships. The more a noble shuts themselves up in their own house, the harder it is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to get information on them. Margrave of Levien is strictly that type... Huh? Then the business in the Empire too—defeating the Hero and rescuing the Imperial Princess...?"

"Man, hearing it in a setting like this makes it damn embarrassing."

I genuinely felt sheepish, and despite the serious situation, a dry laugh slipped out.

Separately, fear began to cloud Zikmel's gaze as he looked at me. To clear up that trivial misunderstanding, I had to argue with him a bit until his subordinate brought out the tea.

I don't get what he's so scared of, considering he possesses this insanely talented mind that managed to scrape together this much information on his own in only about four years. Actually, if he'd taken one wrong step, wouldn't this be the kind of thing where his tail gets caught and he gets stabbed to death along with everyone else?

When I asked him that, the reply was simple.

"In the end, those bastards still haven't found me, but Eldmia is standing right before my eyes, isn't he."

It was so damn true that, fuck, I had nothing to say.

I guess I need to consider that the belief instillation worked a little too well.