To Rage Trouble (14)

The moment Vice President Selden vanished from the giant panel and the emblem of the Blue House took his place, a stir moved through the ministers and vice ministers, and the whispers they traded with the people beside them drifted to my ears.

"I can hardly believe it. America, forever with its nose in the air, and yet they come in this low."

"It means even America has acknowledged the ability of the chairman of Grand Blue."

"Calamity-rank Variants, one after another. Unprecedented in all of history, isn't it? Two failures, and Washington, D.C. could be destroyed — New York as well. They are in no position to stand on their pride."

The sort who had read my ability, and America's position, with exactness.

"IWO is hardly going to show mercy or magnanimity toward a crime against an ability user. But the actual weight of what they did is nothing more than an attempted kidnapping, so a heavy sentence will be difficult to justify, will it not?"

"That is also true. Still, given how favorably IWO regards the Chairman, once this stands before the Ability User Tribunal, might IWO's judges not find room to side with his wishes?"

"And has the Ability User Alliance shown the Chairman anything but goodwill? The evidence is ample as well. I believe there is a strong chance they will impose the maximum the law allows."

"I see... I find myself quite curious what verdict will come down — and, of course, what attitude public opinion will take."

The sort airing their curiosity over what sentences the bastards who'd attempted the kidnapping would draw, and what line IWO and the Ability User Alliance would hold toward those criminals.

"Deliver this to the director. Have them investigate the Ability User Alliance's procedures for extraditing criminals, and IWO's step-by-step policy for referral to the International Tribunal."

"Yes."

"The Chairman wishes to prevent the criminals from being assassinated by outside hands, so also request the cooperation of the relevant departments in protecting them during transport."

"Yes. I will carry it out as ordered."

And the sort already setting the work in motion.

I was listening to the murmur of it when Youngeun looked at me and asked.

"So then, my Seoha — what would you like to do?"

"Mm. Honestly, even if Britain and Russia send inspection teams, by then America will have finished cooking all the intelligence, don't you think?"

"Heh. It's been nearly two days since the kidnapping plot was exposed, hasn't it? They've already cut every rope that might have hanged them. All they've left, I'd say, are the three ringleaders and the scapegoats under them — just enough to take the edge off our chairman's anger."

Ah, these fucking bastards. The curses wanted out on their own, but I had no desire to hold something that crude in my mouth in front of Youngeun, so I bit them down.

"You really think President Trumpet collapsed?"

"According to the Pigeons' report, ten minutes after the second raid ended in failure, President Trumpet was moved to the National Naval Hospital in Maryland. Security was so tight they put an analysis-type in from a distance..."

Mid-explanation she shook her head, then opened her mouth again.

"Explaining it that way will run too long, so I'll skip it, all right? Anyway, I can tell you this much — using a visual-analysis ability user, we confirmed President Trumpet was carried into the hospital on a stretcher."

"You're sure that person was Trumpet?"

"You're asking whether they swapped him, aren't you? To confirm it properly, we tried to insert an agent — a sensory-type, trained for special operations — but as you'd expect of a military hospital used by American presidents down the years, security was far too tight for anyone to get in. One wrong move and we'd have handed them a pretext to claim we attacked. The problem is that the guard was more than four times what it is in peacetime."

She folded her arms and scowled, plainly stifled by it. Youngeun almost never wrinkled her face in front of me. Whatever this was, it truly did not sit well with her.

"Judging by those circumstances, they might have tightened security to protect Trumpet — or, just as easily, they increased it because they checked in a fake. If you want to be suspicious, there's no end to what you can suspect."

"Then let's assume it is Trumpet. If this is going to go anywhere, I have to believe they wouldn't tell a lie that falls apart the moment I so much as move."

For now, Trumpet had definitely collapsed. So why did I feel so filthy? I turned it over, and the answer came quickly enough.

"They clearly did the wrong, and yet everything they do says they did nothing wrong. It's pissing me off. Hell with it — maybe I just won't help."

I was glaring at the blank transparent panel, nothing on it at all, as if I might growl at the thing, when Youngeun rose, came around behind me, and began to work my shoulders with slow, supple hands.

"..."

What I wanted was an honest apology, one with some heart in it, and for the bastards who had schemed this to be punished.

Of course it was only natural for the people and the nation that had committed the crime to scramble to cut the damage and save their precious faces. But with me as the one they'd done it to, every bit of it caught in my eye, and the irritation climbed.

I'd tried to vent that irritation by evolving aberrants into high-tier subspecies and turning them loose, but the relief in my gut lasted only a moment. The instant I met America's leadership, the irritation flared right back up — because of an attitude that put their nation's honor, and their own personal face, above the safety of their citizens.

That attitude was exactly why this had happened, and still they clung to it. Maybe a heartfelt apology from a great power had been too much to hope for.

I let out a long breath.

It wasn't right to do nothing but seethe, and America had, for the moment, accepted every demand I'd put on the table... If I started grasping after this and that, it would amount to saying I wanted a real fight, so I supposed I had to give a little ground, the way Youngeun said.

...The truth was, if it ever came out that I'd released those aberrants on purpose, America would still be in the wrong for making the first cause of a quarrel — but I, the one who'd let emotion off the leash and dealt out enormous damage, would take the worse of the blame.

I'd help with this one matter, and after that, no matter what happened, I would not help them again. I wouldn't sell Phase Stones to America, either. Canada, Mexico, Brazil — places like that.

Petty revenge from where I stood. For America, it might not be petty in the least.

Planning, inwardly, the petty revenge to follow, I nodded at Youngeun. She smiled, stroked my shoulder, then clapped twice and drew every eye in the room.

"Minister of Foreign Affairs, contact the foreign ministries of Britain and Russia at once and inform them that we are entering the second phase of the plan. Intelligence — have you obtained anything further on the White Thorn Turtle and the Muscle Bear?"

A middle-aged man and woman rose at once and headed off somewhere, and then a man a little younger than the average age of this room worked his tablet and spoke.

"U.S. special-operations reporting has the Muscle Bear currently passing between Charlotte and Greensboro, major cities of North Carolina, and heading for Fort Bragg. A tight surveillance net is laid around Fort Bragg, so we cannot approach, but transport aircraft can be heard taking off and landing without pause. We judge they are throwing everything into a withdrawal."

"How long until the Muscle Bear reaches Fort Bragg?"

"Judging by its speed, approximately seven hours. Timed to that, U.S. FEMA — the Federal Emergency Management Agency — has issued a Level 1 evacuation order to every citizen of North Carolina, a Level 2 order in South Carolina and Virginia, and a special-grade evacuation order along the Muscle Bear's path of travel."

"And the White Thorn Turtle?"

"Reports say the White Thorn Turtle, having annihilated Las Vegas, has lain down in the heart of the ruined city and is resting. Ah — footage of the Muscle Bear has just arrived."

"Play it."

"Yes!"

What appeared on the giant panel was a colossal black mass crossing open ground beneath the thin light of a half-moon. Each time it moved, the groan of the earth shaking came with it, and it advanced with a terrible slowness. In the pale blur it looked a great deal like an extremely fat person, but that had to be the Muscle Bear. It walked on two legs, shambling in a single direction the way a human would.

Trees that did not even reach its short, stubby legs showed just how vast it was; the forest itself did not come up to the creature's waist. A monster on a scale you only saw in a science-fiction film. Unlike the body I'd first grown for it, the black fur over its whole frame was scorched and singed by fire, and the armor-like muscle was slashed and torn away in patches.

So those were the marks of the first and second raids. The scorching — the nuke pack? The rest were probably wounds dealt by ability users. A Physical Reinforcement type, but its regeneration didn't look like much.

Beside ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the footage of it on the move, a single photograph appeared: the Muscle Bear in daylight, still whole.

"This is a feed being shot with telescopic equipment from eight kilometers out. And this photograph is how the Muscle Bear looked when it was first captured on camera. From the comparison, the detonation of the tactical nuclear backpack seems to have done no more than singe its fur, and the battle against Albert, the A-Class ability user of the G.S. raid team, and the forty B-Class ability users under him, left wounds in only a few places. We estimate that is the whole of it. Its regenerative power itself does not appear exceptional."

Roughly comparing the size on screen against the trees beside it, it didn't seem to have become a Calamity-rank subspecies. Thinking of how its bulk had grown with every rise in rank, if it had reached that, it would have gotten larger still, and the wounds would have vanished entirely.

I'd thought that with the first and second raids failing, it would have absorbed a considerable amount of Phase Power from the dead B-Class ability users. They must have cut ability-user losses as far as they could.

The young man reporting to Youngeun worked his portable panel, checked a few things, and spoke again.

"We assess the Muscle Bear as a Physical Reinforcement type. Aside from the strength and defense that come of that powerful body, it appears to have no special skills. Its attacks are simple as well, and the pattern has been found to resemble a bear's. The tacticians and strategists we invited have offered the view that it seems drunk on its own strength."

"So that is why America's raiders were able to withdraw without heavy losses."

"As you say."

Did that mean it hadn't grown through battle after battle, but had been handed its power all at once, and so lacked the strength and the bearing its rank ought to carry?

So force-growing them by feeding them TP came with this kind of problem.

"Come to think of it, I caught the Blade Flyer and just came back. What happened to the carcass?"

"The aircraft carrier carrying it is on its way here. I heard Grand Blue's dismantling ship and the custody transport have already departed — didn't anyone tell you?"

...Because I was home throwing a Christmas party and enjoying myself, and never once went into the office... Ahem.

I was thinking Hwayeon, my sister, and Aunt Hyeryeong must have handled it when a middle-aged woman from the Foreign Ministry turned to Youngeun and reported.

"We are connected with the foreign ministers of Britain and Russia. Shall I put them on screen?"

"Put them on."

The screen that came up a moment later split in half: a man in his sixties on one side, a woman in her forties on the other. The man had gray hair and a smiling face. The woman was a femme fatale of a figure, with long permed hair carrying a faint reddish cast.

"You both look well, which is a relief. Have you been keeping well?"

At her greeting, the man and the woman answered at the same time.

They glanced at one another, then turned their eyes to me, seated at Youngeun's side.

So the woman was Russia's foreign minister, and the man Britain's?

"Hello."

I'd spoken first, and the instant the word was out, Selovich Victoria Laprov — Foreign Minister Selovich — winked one eye and offered that greeting as if we were already familiar. She was simply the lively sort, and between that and the hair, a generous eye could have put her in her early thirties. As she winked at me, plainly putting her charm on offer, a deep, knowing smile began to spread across Youngeun's face.

When Minister Selovich's greeting ended, Britain's foreign minister spoke, wearing a soft, grandfatherly smile.

"Heh. I can see both ministers are so pleased to lay eyes on the chairman of Grand Blue that it's left you like this, but the situation calls for urgency. I'd like to go straight to the point. Is that all right?"

Foreign ministers or not, both of them were clearly the sociable kind, and before any more small talk about personal affairs could spill out, Youngeun stepped in and took the lead.

Ugh. The Queen herself wants to talk? That old lady? And Russia was the same, it seemed. Minister Selovich pressed a fingertip lightly to her lips, looking thoroughly put out, and spoke through a nasal little hum.

"Thank you both for your swift cooperation."

Youngeun inclined her head, ever so slightly, toward the British and Russian ministers, her manner purely businesslike.

What was I supposed to say to that? Was I even allowed to agree to a meeting on my own? Youngeun, still wearing that smile, soothed the two of them.

"Once this matter is settled, we'll look for an opportunity to arrange it. Won't we, Chairman?"

I nodded. No one had said when, or how, and yet British Foreign Minister Philip and Russian Foreign Minister Selovich seemed satisfied with that alone. Smiling, they asked us to wait a moment, and vanished from the screen.

When the giant panel went black, Youngeun clicked her tongue and murmured.

"Haa. To meet the heads of Britain and Russia face to face, you have to make the appointment well in advance and wait — and yet even with a connection this sudden, they're the ones offering to meet first. America is bowing its head, Britain and Russia are friendly... I almost wonder if we ought to sit our Seoha in the president's chair."

I stole a glance at her face. She looked so full of genuine feeling that I ended up frowning a little.

"I really hate politics. It's annoying."

As I grumbled, Youngeun only let out a breath of a laugh, her face all but saying how cute, while the ministers and vice ministers wore wry smiles and set about preparing to record the feed again.

A short while later, the faces of Queen Arceia V of Britain and Russian President Sladmir Puchin rose on the screen at the same moment, as if they had promised each other.

The one who spoke first was the Queen, still beautifully aged, still graceful.

"Yes. I didn't expect to see you so suddenly."

At the words that she had been waiting, I only dragged a hand back over my hair, face gone a little awkward, and President Puchin wore a sharp smile. A face packed with unbending severity — and when it smiled, the force behind it was nothing you could brush aside.

I was glad he went straight to the point. Honestly, I wasn't used to occasions like this — not enough to warm a room with this and that bit of small talk.

But the Queen, looking at President Puchin as he cut straight to business, let her eyes close and open again, just slightly. She did not look pleased that he had snapped the small talk that might have let the mood ripen.

"I'm glad to see you both as well. I don't know if it's proper, meeting the two of you at once to make a request, but I'm trusting your goodwill. There's one favor I'd like to ask."

And with that, I laid out a summary of how things stood between America and me.

Having heard the whole of it, Arceia V and President Puchin nodded, their faces saying there was nothing difficult about it.

The two heads of state accepted at once, brimming with confidence, and I couldn't tell what they were turning over. Were the Phase Stones I'd handed them earning their price? Or were they already counting what Britain and Russia stood to gain from this?

"Thank you. You take a sudden call, and even an unreasonable request, so if danger ever comes to either of your countries, I'll roll up my sleeves and come help."

At the warm attitude of the two heads of state, Youngeun shot me a glance, then, a smile tucked at the corner of her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mouth, added to what I had said.

"Ah — the Chairman anticipates that High-Tier Variants and above will continue to appear, from time to time, across the world. So long as Her Majesty Queen Arceia V and President Puchin, who have aided us many times, stand as heads of state, the chairman of Grand Blue and Korea will not forget the goodwill ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the two of you have shown. Isn't that so?"

Of course I couldn't simply take the help and be done, so once this was over I'd meant to sell them a few high-grade Phase Stones in return. But hearing Youngeun, I remembered the articles online — the sense of crisis climbing with the appearance of Calamity-rank Variants, which were, in truth, high-tier subspecies.

Good. Time to dangle the carrot.

"Yes. How could I forget, when you're offering help so readily?"

I nodded at Youngeun, who had turned to me on that last question, and President Puchin grinned — wide enough that, from a certain angle, it was frightening — while the Queen held a small smile and quietly opened her mouth.

Two presidents... was one of them a queen? Anyway, both leaders wore faces of genuine satisfaction, so I figured they'd see the inspection through properly.

Then I needed to go home and prepare to bring down the Muscle Bear. Just in case, this time it would be only Franc and me.

"Then I'll excuse myself first. I have preparations to make."

As I stood, the Queen sent me a regretful look. President Puchin nodded as well, his face solemn.

Whatever the rest of it was, those last words were full of sincerity. Youngeun stood as well, looked at me, and said with a bright little smile.

"Chairman. Leave the talks with America to us. We will coordinate when you must depart for America, and the rest of it."

"I'm counting on you."