Chapter 142
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 142
Ilay tapped his thumbs together over his clasped hands. He was listening intently, his mind racing. The edges of his pupils flickered, mirroring the frantic pace of his thoughts.
“Now I understand your relationship with Kinuan, which never made sense to me. His true identity is quite the surprise. I had no idea how deep this went. So that’s why you’ve been acting so strangely.”
I didn’t need to explain everything. Ilay was brilliant; he could piece together the entire picture from just a few fragments.
“I’ve already failed as a Watcher,” I said. “The next time we meet, Kinuan will try to kill me.”
Ilay took a moment to organize his thoughts.
“...This situation is beyond difficult. It’s on a completely different level from the Ramones incident. I understand why you kept this from me, but it isn’t a problem you can solve on your own.”
He let out a long, heavy breath. I elaborated on the current circumstances.
“Heilas will pretend to plot a rebellion to gather all the dissidents from the military and the Imperial Guard in one place. Then, he’ll purge them and offer their heads to the Imperial Family as a tribute. It’s the only way to save the Custoria family and the Imperial Guard.”
“Even if the Imperial Family accepts Heilas’s tribute… Luka, your chances of survival are slim. You should start preparing for exile now. Once the Storm Era ends, you won’t even be able to get out.”
Ilay’s suggestion was a valid option.
Heilas dies, I go into exile, and the Custoria family survives.
…But an indescribable emotion surged through me. I couldn’t choose that path, even if it cost me my life. The moment I even considered it, I felt like it would corrupt my very soul.
“The ending hasn’t been written yet. Heilas still has cards to play that even he doesn’t know about—cards Agatha has been holding close to her chest.”
I would give Heilas all the knowledge and information I possessed. With that, he would devise a new option.
“Have you contacted Commander Heilas?”
“I can’t. I don’t know if the connection is cut or if he’s just not answering. But he probably already sees me as an enemy. I’ve repeatedly disobeyed his orders and killed two of his closest aides. And Ivan is likely doing everything he can to keep us from communicating.”
“Luka, listen to me. I oppose any plan that involves contacting Heilas. He’s backed into a corner, and he’s hostile toward you. Teaming up with a man who’s already resolved to surrender is an irrational decision. There’s no guarantee he’ll come up with a better plan, either.”
I knew that. My current plan was full of holes, and my chances of survival were low. It was the worst possible choice—one no sane person would ever make.
But right now, I needed the resolve to choose the worst.
“This is the path that gets me the outcome I want.”
“Not everyone gets what they want. You know that better than anyone, don’t you? I don’t want to see my friend suffer and die for nothing.”
Ilay glared at me, his jaw set. He wasn’t going to back down easily.
“I suppose your choice to save Lillian Ramones was the realistic one, then,” I sneered.
Ilay’s expression hardened.
“Luka, don’t you dare bring that up here.”
The dining table he was leaning on began to splinter. As the solid wood cracked apart, plates and food slid to the floor with a crash.
“It’s not that complicated, Ilay Kartika. You can either stand there with your hands behind your back and watch me walk into the fire, or you can jump in with me. Choose.”
My eyes narrowed as I stared him down. Ilay’s hand went to his waist, his fingers closing around the hilt of his sword.
“There’s a third option. I could subdue you right here.”
“I wouldn’t try that if I were you. We’ve been in a similar situation before, haven’t we? Remind me, who won that time?”
I tilted my chin up, scratching my cheek with an arrogant air.
A fierce silence fell between us. Only Ilay’s fingers, coiled tightly around his sword’s hilt, twitched.
“Cut the bluff. You’re barely recovered from a serious injury. I’ll beat you senseless and ship you off on the first cargo vessel to Bellato.”
In that moment, I was certain.
…I could trust Ilay Kartika.
A pang of guilt struck me for testing my friend.
“Please, Ilay,” I said, my voice softening. “You’re the only one who can help me right now.”
Ilay bit his lower lip, his face twisting in a pained expression. The hand on his sword trembled.
I bowed my head, leaving my neck completely exposed.
“Luka, don’t do this. It’s suicide. You’re not the type to act on some cheap sense of justice.”
His voice was strained, on the verge of breaking. I closed my eyes.
“It’s not about justice. And there is a chance of winning. Just listen to the plan. If you still don’t like it, you can beat me down right here. Either way, this can’t work without your help.”
I raised my head. Blood dripped from my nose, spattering onto the floor. I wiped it away roughly and forced my eyes open.
The bridge of my nose throbbed, and my forehead burned as if I had a fever. My brain was overheating, but it wouldn’t slow down.
Chzzzt.
Static crackled in my artificial eye. The device wasn’t broken—the problem was my brain.
…Due to continuous overexertion and the effects of Akies Victima, my nervous system was beginning to break down. But I couldn’t stop now.
Pop!
I heard a faint sound as a blood vessel burst in my left eye. My vision flooded with red. A tear of blood streamed down my cheek.
“Luka? Hey, you’re…”
Even Ilay was at a loss for words.
“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” I said. “If I don’t solve this problem, my brain won’t stop anyway. It’s a curse.”
This was the price of reaching a higher level of Akies Victima.
My brain detected every potential danger and every problem around me, forcing me to maintain a constant state of high alert to solve them. My perception, senses, and insight had become so sharp that I couldn't ignore even the most trivial variables.
Four forks, three spoons, eight plates, three of them broken. Among them…
Even now, I was obsessively counting the scattered utensils on the floor. It had nothing to do with my will; my brain was just mechanically cataloging everything in my field of vision.
If my focus wavered for even a second, I wasted precious mental energy. I had to turn my consciousness inward, away from the flood of external sensations.
Damn it, I’m going crazy. No, I’m already crazy.
“...Fine,” Ilay finally said, his voice laced with resignation. “Let’s hear this grand plan of yours. It looks like I’m the only one who can grant your dying wish.”
I raised my head. He had let go of his sword and was now brushing back his disheveled bangs.
* * *
At the La Vie en Rose mansion, I prepared my gear. I hoped this wouldn’t be the last mission of my life.
But the probability was high. This wasn’t pessimism; it was a realistic assessment.
Even if your goals are idealistic, your thinking must remain grounded in reality.
Click, click.
I flexed my fingers one by one.
The hastily repaired prosthetic body responded well enough. Even if it wasn't in perfect condition, I wouldn't lose to some half-baked opponent.
Hiss.
I borrowed and equipped a chest protector Ilay used. A variable combat helmet was folded neatly along the collar—a style he favored.
Whirrr.
I ran a finger along the collar. The folded helmet rose smoothly, enveloping my head. When I swiped my finger in the opposite direction, it retracted just as quickly.
Giselle.
My gaze fell on Giselle, lying on the bed. Her life wasn't in danger, but she hadn't woken up. The mental trauma she’d endured in such a short time was too severe.
I was a human trained and modified to withstand extreme environments and immense pressure. But Giselle was different.
This incident had left her with psychological wounds that might never heal. If I died on top of all that, the agony would crush her. That was why I couldn't afford to die.
Martina Diva had promised to look after her during the Storm Era. I owed Martina a great deal. Someday, I would have to repay her.
“……I’ll be back.”
Even if you’re prepared to die, don’t actually die, Luka.
I repeated the words to myself as I slipped out of the room. The interior of the mansion registered in my mind all at once, revealing details I hadn’t noticed before. It was thanks to the four hours of sleep I had managed to get.
I’m counting on you, Ilay.
He was already gone, having left the mansion four hours ago after hearing my plan.
When I reached the first floor, I found Jin Gau drinking. Martina Diva was beside him, feeding him snacks one by one.
—The district in question has been locked down. Citizens are advised to…
They were watching the news on a massive screen that filled an entire wall. Reports about the lockdown of the Upper District and the ongoing riots played on a loop.
“Ah, Luka. I was too distracted to ask earlier… Have you tried using that injector gun I gave you?”
I lifted the hem of the coat I wore over my combat suit, revealing the metallic device. It was a gift from my last visit to Jin Gau’s laboratory.
“I’ll probably use it today.”
“Did you read the manual?”
“Cover to cover.”
I walked toward the back door of the mansion.
“Is that so? Then let me ask you something. How many steps were on that staircase you just came down?”
“……Forty-two. Do you want the number of balusters, too?”
Jin Gau laughed. He thrust a hand inside Martina’s top and began groping her. Honestly, I wasn’t sure the scraps of fabric she wore even qualified as clothes.
“I’m telling you this as a matter of conscience: if you use that thing in your current state of hyper-awareness, you’ll probably die. If you’re lucky, you’ll just end up a vegetable.”
“Scientific progress requires sacrifice. I will go and dedicate my body to the cause,” I said flatly.
I nodded and pushed open the back door.
“Splendid. I really do like you, Luka.”
“To be honest, Director, I dislike you.”
Jin Gau laughed heartily. Leaving the sound of his laughter behind, I stepped outside.
Thud!
I closed the door behind me. In contrast to the mansion’s comfortable interior, a wave of damp, humid air greeted me.
Looking up at the dark, rain-soaked sky, I felt a familiar sense of depression creep in.
I walked forward, navigating a labyrinth of alleys until I emerged onto a main road.
Beyond the buildings, the horizon was nothing but fire and smoke. The flames, which should have been red, appeared as a multi-hued mess to my overstimulated vision. The swaying plumes of smoke seemed to form shapes, carrying some hidden metaphor.
Waaaaaaah!
Next came the roar of the crowd. It was so loud it felt like someone was screaming through a megaphone right next to my ear.
My head throbbed from the sensory overload. I reached for my collar and deployed the helmet.
Whirrr!
Even the sound of the helmet activating grated on my nerves.
The La Vie en Rose VIP Mansion was in the Lower District, while the riots were raging in the Upper District and along its borders.
But that didn't mean the Lower District was safe. It was a lawless zone where even the pretense of public order had vanished. What little security remained had been concentrated in the Upper District.
Crimes of opportunity were rampant. Fresh corpses littered every alleyway. Even the buildings weren't safe; broken windows and bloodstains were everywhere.
“What are you— ack! Urgh! ”
As I passed an alley, a robber lunged at me. Without thinking, I slammed the heel of my palm into his head. His face caved in, and an eyeball popped out of its socket. The knife he’d been holding clattered to the ground.
My response was pure combat reflex. I hadn’t even consciously decided to move.
Step, step.
I walked the streets like a ghost, intentionally dulling my consciousness to lower my focus.
I had to conserve every last bit of my brainpower.
...When I came to my senses, I had arrived at the boundary between the Lower and Upper Districts. I was standing before one of Akbaran's checkpoints.
A massive crowd blocked my path, all of them shouting toward the upper levels.
“We have the right to be protected, too! We pay our taxes, you bastards!”
“At least send out some drones and androids!”
“I-I live in the Upper District! Let me through! Get out of my way!”
“Shut the hell up!”
The area below the checkpoint was chaos. Protesters and frantic residents were tangled in a desperate, shoving mass. Some were being trampled to death underfoot.
—We will open fire if you enter without authorization. I repeat, this is a warning. Without authorization…
The soldiers at the checkpoint struggled to hold back the tide of people.
I slowly opened my half-closed eyes, letting my consciousness sharpen as I took in the scene.
This checkpoint is in relatively good shape compared to the others.
Since it was near the middle-class residential district, it hadn't devolved into a full-blown bloodbath yet.
The soldiers were also reluctant to use violence. Most of them were from the Lower District themselves, and their relatives or friends were likely in that crowd. Unless a superior gave a direct order, they would maintain the standoff.
As long as the protesters don’t become rioters, the Imperial Family won’t issue a shoot-to-kill order.
The Empire and the Imperial Family avoided the meaningless slaughter of their own citizens, practicing tyranny only to the extent necessary. They always, surprisingly, chose the path that minimized long-term damage. However, because their perspective was so macro-level, to a short-sighted observer, it appeared as nothing but cruel oppression.
I pushed my way forward. Swept up in the mob’s emotions, some tried to grab me angrily. Each time, I snapped their fingers or broke their arms.
Step.
Parting the crowd, I stood before the checkpoint. A yellow boundary line flashed, issuing a warning.
“If you come any closer…” a soldier aiming his rifle at me began, but his voice trailed off.
Click, click.
I reached for my collar and retracted the helmet.
“My name is Lucaus Custoria,” I announced, my voice clear and steady. “Every Imperial subject has the right to receive proper protection under the Shield of the Empire. This is a right of the citizens, proclaimed by His Majesty the First Emperor, Dino Cracia.”
There was no turning back now.