Chapter 135
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 135
Barbara and I had seen Noel's memories.
Barbara must have realized I'm in a similar situation to Noel. She's more than capable of figuring that out.
I had to make a decision. Barbara was an incredibly dangerous woman. Logically speaking, I should kill her right here, even if it meant breaking my promise.
Creak.
My knuckles groaned under the surging power output. If necessary, I could wrap my hands around Barbara's neck and crush her skull. A split second would be enough.
But would killing Barbara here really benefit us? Or would it invite an even greater disaster?
It was impossible to guess what contingencies she had prepared in the event of her death. Because I didn't know the true extent of her capabilities, I couldn't just rashly end her life. Barbara knew this, which was exactly why she had dared to confront me in reality.
"Hmm, you're in quite a... complicated situation yourself," Barbara noted. She composed herself and stood up from the treatment chair.
"I don't see you as someone loyal to the Empire, Barbara," I said bluntly. "You're operating on a personal agenda. Or perhaps you struck a deal with the Empire's upper command."
To understand Barbara, I needed to know her end goal. Only then could I figure out what drove her.
"Do you really think I'd just hand over my weaknesses?" She scoffed. "You know as well as I do—to survive in the Empire, you must hide your true intentions. Especially in times like these. I plan to curl up tight and hold my breath until the storm passes."
Barbara was crazy, but she was smart. She was a woman perfectly capable of controlling her madness with reason. Right now, she was merely watching the situation unfold from the sidelines.
Which means her only goal is self-preservation.
The chaos engulfing the Empire was, in many ways, a prime opportunity for advancement. Her choosing to quietly observe meant she harbored no greed for wealth, glory, or power.
I hadn't expected her to answer my question anyway. I only asked to draw her into a conversation so I could deduce her motives through the process of elimination.
If self-preservation is her goal, that's fortunate for me. She won't immediately report the information she gained today to the Empire. She'll hoard it to use as leverage for a future deal.
For now, it meant Noel's memories wouldn't leak.
My train of thought had been long, but in the physical world, barely a split second had passed.
Barbara adjusted her collar and glanced at Giselle. Giselle took a step back, aiming her pistol squarely at Barbara's chest.
"Just because Luka is letting you live doesn't mean I won't kill you. Open that door and get the hell out of here quietly."
Giselle's voice was ice-cold. Not a single tremor or hint of agitation leaked through. For someone without formal combat training, she was doing remarkably well. If Barbara hadn't been standing right there, I would have praised her.
"Pfft, don't be so heartless. You know my situation now. I had no choice back at the Academy. You have to understand my circumstances, Giselle."
Barbara offered a bitter smile, her eyebrows arching in a bizarrely, unnaturally awkward expression. Perhaps it was because she wasn't in her own prosthetic body, or maybe she just had an innate emotional expression disorder.
"No, you're just a psycho."
Giselle pulled the trigger. Even I was slightly taken aback by her sheer decisiveness.
Bang!
The bullet pierced Barbara's left shoulder. Staggering from the impact, she stumbled two steps back.
Sizzle.
Red coolant fluid oozed from the gunshot wound.
"You shot me? Ah... ah, I see, Giselle," Barbara muttered, looking back and forth between her bleeding shoulder and the pistol. Her expression was completely unreadable—it was impossible to tell if she was crying or laughing.
"The next one goes in your head," Giselle said, aligning her sights. The muzzle pointed directly between Barbara's eyes.
"You can't shoot me. You don't have the stomach for murder."
Barbara tried to take a step forward.
Whoosh!
I drew my Grakken Boot and aimed it squarely at the back of Barbara's neck. Digging into her hair, the weapon glowed a brilliant, lethal white.
Barbara froze. Standing right behind her, I spoke calmly.
"But for me, killing is just another day at the office. If you want to test my patience, go ahead. Take that step."
"Luka, Luka, Luka. You clearly promised you wouldn't kill me."
"And I'm not. Out of professional courtesy, I haven't even broken your legs yet. Give me one good reason why I should tolerate any more of this."
Barbara carefully turned around, gently pushing the Grakken Boot away with a single finger.
"Well, when you put it like that, I suppose I have no choice."
She walked toward the exit. Creaking the door open, she tossed one last remark over her shoulder.
"Luka, Giselle. It was nice meeting you. I think I actually quite like you two. Contact me whenever you need my help. It was a fair and good trade, wasn't it?"
"It was a good trade, Barbara. So let's end it on a good note," I replied dryly.
Barbara formed her fingers into the shape of a pistol and pressed the invisible barrel under her chin. She mimicked pulling the trigger in a mock suicide.
"Bang! The first time is always the hardest. The second time is easy. That's how everything works—murder, taboos, all of it. That's why I wanted to be Giselle's first. After all, you always remember the first person you kill for the rest of your life."
With those parting words, Barbara slipped out and the door slammed shut.
Thud.
Giselle immediately collapsed to the floor, her legs completely giving out beneath her.
* * *
Giselle and I soon left the illegal clinic as well. The weather outside had grown even worse than when we'd first entered.
Swoooosh!
Rain poured from the heavens. Accompanied by howling winds, it was the kind of torrential downpour that would drench a person to the bone no matter where they tried to hide.
Wail! Wail!
Sirens screamed across the sky. A strict no-fly zone had been declared for all aerial vehicles. Now, there was truly no way to return to the Custoria mansion.
I wanted to at least send Giselle back to the main house...
If we were lucky, flyable weather might return in a day or two. If not, no aerial vehicles would be cleared for takeoff for over a fortnight.
There is no safe place.
The G&G Workshop and the local gang offices were equally dangerous. I couldn't leave Giselle in any of those places.
Pitter-patter!
Heavy raindrops pelted against our pulled-down hoods. Wearing masks that covered the lower halves of our faces, Giselle and I slipped into a narrow alleyway.
"What are we going to do now?" Giselle asked, dodging a puddle of stagnant, filthy water.
"We need to get out of the rain first. I also need some time to organize my thoughts."
"Then let's go in there."
Giselle pointed to a shabby lodging house just outside the alley. It was a decrepit four-story building that looked at least a century old at a glance.
"If we pay with a credit chip, our location might get tracked," I warned.
"By whom?" Giselle asked, cutting straight to the point.
"...Anyone."
"Then we pay with physical goods. This should be enough."
Giselle took off her earrings and handed them to me. It was jewelry far too valuable to be wasted on a rundown motel.
"There must be a better place than this dump."
"If we stay out in this rain any longer, we'll catch our deaths," she argued. "We don't have full-body prosthetics. Especially me—I'm much more vulnerable."
She was right. No matter what lay ahead, we had to maintain peak physical condition. Without another word, I took the lead.
Click.
At the entrance of the lodging house, a palm-sized peephole slid open. It was their version of a security measure. After all, this was a neighborhood crawling with thugs and robbers.
"You got money?" the lodging house owner asked, scanning us suspiciously. I held up Giselle's earrings.
Creak.
The heavy door opened just wide enough for a single person to squeeze through at a time. Homeless people shivering in the rain watched us with gleaming, predatory eyes, waiting for any opening to strike.
Clack!
The owner quickly slammed the door shut and threw the deadbolt. The interior of the building was reinforced with welded iron plates, making it look like a civilian bunker preparing for war. The tightly locked windows looked sturdy enough to withstand a hail of bullets.
"Preparations for the Storm Era," the owner grunted, tapping the heavy shotgun resting against his hip. "Being outside during this season is a death sentence. There are always bastards trying to crawl under a roof by any means necessary."
As he walked down the dimly lit hallway, he paused in front of a large, dark stain on the floorboards.
"See this bloodstain? The previous owner took pity on a few homeless people during the last Storm Era and let 'em in. They murdered him for it. I left it here as a reminder to never show mercy to trash."
The owner bared his yellowed teeth in a grim smile. It was a blatant warning for us not to cause any trouble.
He led us up the creaking stairs to our room. Handing over the physical key, he snatched the earrings as payment.
"Then, we'll be staying for—"
I started to negotiate a longer duration. However, the owner just smirked and shook his head.
"Ah, customer. This is only enough for one night. It's peak season, after all."
I resisted the urge to knock his front teeth down his throat. I shouldn't have handed over the earrings right from the start. I should have negotiated the terms first.
But there was no need to cause unnecessary friction. It wasn't as if we were actually strapped for cash anyway.
I was still inexperienced. In areas where I lacked a proper background, I was hopelessly deficient. Even Gabriel, who was skilled in back-alley negotiations, wouldn't have been ripped off this easily.
"What about internal security?" I asked.
"Ain't none. It's all analog here. If we left anything of value lying around, it'd get stolen in a heartbeat," the owner replied as he pushed the door open.
The room contained nothing but a few pieces of shabby furniture and a loudly humming refrigerator. There wasn't even a basic hologram projector. It was literally just four walls to shelter us from the wind and rain.
Whir.
Out of habit, I activated my optical scanners and swept the room. Nothing flagged on my sensors.
"Have a good stay."
The owner disappeared down the hall without even bothering to explain the amenities.
Creak, thud.
The door closed behind him. Giselle immediately reached for the switch to turn on the ceiling light.
Click, click.
Nothing happened.
"Even if we call him, he won't fix it, right?" Giselle asked, looking awkward.
"Judging by his attitude? Definitely not. Or should I go break his legs and drag him back up here?" I sighed. Giselle just shrugged and felt along the wall in the dark.
Click.
Fortunately, she found another light switch. Though, I wasn't entirely sure if "fortunate" was the right word for what happened next.
A dim, seedy red glow spread along the edges of the ceiling. It was an auxiliary mood light. Bathed in the crimson illumination, Giselle looked at me, her face visibly flushed.
"Better than nothing, right?" she muttered.
"Well, it's better than sitting in the dark."
We were in no position to care about the awkward atmosphere. We were both completely exhausted.
Thud.
I slumped onto the lumpy sofa and stared up at the ceiling.
Can I make a different choice than Noel did?
I had drawn my final card, and I had seen the cards held by everyone else. All that remained was my own judgment and decision. I had to find the best hand I could possibly play.
"This place is a total dump! And they actually charge money for this?!" Giselle, who had wandered into the bathroom, yelled in anger. She kicked the plumbing fixture in sheer frustration.
"If you break it, they'll charge us extra," I called out.
"There's nothing left to break! The sink is pouring pitch-black rust! I can't even wash my face! And what are we supposed to do for drinking water?!"
The lack of a working shower seemed to be the final straw for Giselle's fraying patience. Nobles tended to be highly sensitive about their personal hygiene.
"You should have known just by looking at the building's exterior. The pipes probably haven't been replaced in a century. I told you we should have gone somewhere else."
"Yeah, yeah. You're absolutely right. Aren't you just Mr. Perfect." Giselle huffed, crossing her arms as she stomped back into the room and sat down across from me.
I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in thought. The mental fatigue from the simulation still lingered heavily in my brain. Noel's traces hovered in my mind like a ghost.
I am not you, Noel. So get out of my head.
Our paths were certainly similar, but they were not identical.
Where do we differ?
That single question would likely be the key to making a different choice.
Growl.
The loud rumble definitely hadn't come from my stomach.
Giselle bit her lower lip and stubbornly stared at the wall, pretending not to notice. Perhaps I was losing my mind too, because I actually found her embarrassed reaction rather cute. A dry chuckle escaped my lips.
Standing up, I reached into my coat and pulled out a military ration bar alongside a collapsible water bottle with a built-in purifier. I walked over to the bathroom, filled the bottle with the rusty tap water, and returned to hand it to Giselle.
"Do you just always carry this stuff around?" Giselle asked, eyeing the bottle. She pressed her lips to the nozzle and took a cautious sip. The rusty water was sucked upward through the advanced filter, emerging perfectly clean. "Hmm. The water actually tastes fine."
"Any soldier carries one. It's basic survival gear. Here, eat this. It's packed with enough calories to keep you going for at least a day."
I broke the ration bar in half and tossed her a piece.
For soldiers who still relied on biological digestive systems, high-calorie meals and clean water were essential. There was a hard limit to how long a person could stave off starvation or waterborne illnesses through sheer willpower alone.
"Ugh, this tastes like cardboard. Did you seriously eat this the entire time you were at the Academy?" Giselle grimaced as she took a bite. She seemed to suddenly recall the sight of me sitting on a bench every lunchtime, chewing on these exact bars.
"I didn't have much of a choice since you always left me behind to go to the cafeteria alone. I didn't even know how to use the meal system back then," I teased.
Giselle hurriedly brushed the crumbs away from her lips, her face burning red.
"Well, back then... I kind of disliked you. That's why. Jeez, I'm sorry, okay? Can we just drop it?"
I stared at Giselle. As expected, the lingering shadow of Noel's memories brought Agatha to mind. They were similar, yet fundamentally different. Giselle was not Agatha. I couldn't afford to confuse the two.
The deceased Agatha had projected Noel onto me. And because of that, she had made a fatal mistake.
Agatha tried to protect me even though I wasn't Noel. Her lingering feelings for him clouded her judgment.
She had failed as the progenitor of the Custoria family, putting all her descendants in jeopardy. I was absolutely not Noel.
...Therefore, I would not make the same mistake he did.
Noel Mulrizka had told Agatha absolutely nothing. Under the guise of protecting her, he had kept the truth a total secret. It was an incredibly selfish act. Because of that choice, Agatha had suffered for over two centuries.
"Giselle," I said, breaking the silence.
This might be a foolish, childish misjudgment on my part. After all, I was far more inexperienced and immature than Noel had been.
"What now? I already apologized. And for the record, this is actually starting to taste okay," Giselle grumbled, taking another defensive bite.
I smiled faintly.
I didn't know if my current choice would lead to a better outcome. No, it didn't matter—I wasn't making this decision based on cold calculations anyway.
I simply didn't want to deceive Giselle any longer. White lies had never been my style.
"I am currently performing the duties of an Akies Domini... the Emperor's Watcher."
The dice of fate began to roll.