Chapter 205
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 205
I ran into Boyan in the hallway of the office building. He hesitated, his expression dark, before trying to speak to me.
“Um, Luka…”
“I have to go out. We can talk later.”
I spoke curtly, cutting him off. Talking to Boyan felt awkward right now, that much was true, but if he was the one reaching out, I had no intention of avoiding him.
But not right now.
It was time to face Ilay.
My heartbeat began to accelerate. A storm of indefinable emotions swirled within me. Most of them were red—some bright like fresh blood, some deep crimson, and others a murky, reddish-black. There was even an emotion so pitch-black it lacked any hint of red at all, clinging like tar to the walls of my heart.
Boyan didn’t press the issue after my rejection and simply nodded.
Pat, pat.
I patted him on the shoulder as I walked past.
Night in Border City was spectacular. Most human cities slept after sundown. Even when they came alive, it was usually under special circumstances and for specific purposes.
But Border City made no distinction between day and night. Many of its inhabitants were nocturnal species, and the facilities catering to them blazed with brightly lit signs.
A city that never rests.
Border City was always rushing forward, never looking back. As if symbolizing progress itself, it swallowed all knowledge and species whole, ignoring minor problems and growing pains as it expanded.
Step, step.
Leaving the office building, I started down the street. I planned to walk the entire way to the meeting place, unwilling to leave any trace of my movement by using a vehicle.
Ilay Kartika.
Ilay was currently a hound hunting Kinuan. This meant he had either won the trust of Emperor Ivan Cracia or struck a deal with him.
There’s a high probability that Prince Fransek's confinement is connected to Ilay.
Fransek was a man of the light, but he was no fool. He possessed both resolve and political acumen. He would have prepared various safety nets to stand on equal footing with Ivan.
If Ilay sided with Ivan and stabbed Fransek in the back, Fransek would have had no choice but to fall.
I slipped into a maze of back alleys, choosing only the most deserted paths that would be difficult to track.
Not that anyone is likely tracking me.
Assuming the worst was a habit. Whenever I did something shady, I moved as if I were being followed.
When I emerged from the alleys, the street buzzed with energy. I entered the bustling district, where countless species passed by. Since many of them were taller than humans, I was quickly swallowed by the crowd, blending in seamlessly.
The Melting Pot of the Universe.
I looked up at a pub’s sign. The name was written in the languages of various species. It was a massive establishment, a wide, three-story building operating as a single venue.
“What the hell, you bastard!”
“Who do you think you are?”
Near the entrance, a fistfight had broken out between a couple of drunks. Ignoring them, I walked inside.
There was no music playing in the pub. It wasn't needed. On the first floor alone, about a hundred patrons were chatting so boisterously my ears rang. The cacophony of different languages made it even more chaotic.
Cigarette smoke drifted like a thick fog. The ventilation system was running, but it was no match for the heavy smoke from puffing cigarettes and the colorful vapors of various drugs.
“Drinking and smoking at the same time now?” I asked, standing behind Ilay, who was seated at the bar. A thick cloud of smoke billowed around his face.
“It’s not a cigarette, it’s a cigar. All the rage among the Imperial nobles these days,” Ilay said, turning around.
Through the dispersing smoke, his face came into view. He looked like a relaxed, handsome young master. Seeing him like this, you would never guess he was a cold-blooded soldier.
“With a full-body prosthetic, I suppose you don’t have to worry about lung cancer,” I said, sitting down next to him.
“My treat. What’ll you have? Milk?” Ilay asked with a playful smirk.
“I do like milk. Get me one.”
I snapped my fingers to get the bartender’s attention. The human bartender scanned me up and down, then tilted his head at the mention of milk.
“Milk, sir?”
“If you don’t have milk, give me juice.”
“Well, we have some… but it’s not real milk. Synthetic. Is that alright?”
I nodded. With a reluctant air, the bartender brought a glass of milk and set it down in front of me.
“Hey, are you seriously drinking milk? Wow, Luka. How old are you?” Ilay chuckled, nudging my arm with his elbow.
“If a knife fight breaks out right now, that one drink you just had might change the outcome,” I said flatly. Even at my hypothetical fight between us, Ilay only laughed.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Luka. Always assuming the worst. I bet you spent the last month training and agonizing over how to deal with me.”
He was spot on. I took a sip of the milk. It was sweet, as if loaded with sugar.
“Why is it sweet?” I asked, looking at the bartender.
He shrugged. “Figured you had a kid’s palate, sir.”
It was half-mockery. What wonderful customer service.
“Hmm, you’re right. I like it sweet. Life is bitter enough; what I drink should at least be sweet.”
At my retort, the bartender chuckled.
With the cigar still between his lips, Ilay took a long drag and exhaled deeply. Thanks to the lung capacity of his high-performance prosthetic, a massive cloud of smoke billowed between us.
Clink.
Before the smoke could even clear, Ilay drained a glass of some unnamed liquor.
Snap.
He snapped his fingers and gestured with his chin toward the bartender. In response, the bartender simply slid the bottle over, as if telling us to help ourselves, then walked away. It was a clear sign that he wouldn’t be listening in on our conversation.
“You seem familiar with Border City.”
Ilay must have frequented this pub.
“I’ve been visiting for various reasons. Well then, shall I start?”
“You know why I’m here.”
I grabbed the darts resting in a cup on the bar and, looking at the dartboard on the wall, threw them one by one. The first landed dead center. The second struck the tail of the first.
“A lot happened after you were incapacitated. You probably think I’m connected to Fransek’s confinement—no, that I’m the cause of it.”
“Are you not?”
I stared intently at him. He set down his cigar and met my gaze.
Impressive, Ilay. You’ve blocked all emotional signals.
It was a trick only possible because of his full-body prosthetic. He looked like a dry, lifeless android with a human face. With his inorganic stillness, not even blinking, he resembled a mannequin.
Chuckle.
Then, Ilay smiled, and he looked human again.
“Luka, your final prediction as you lay dying during the Storm Era was wrong. The balance between Fransek and Ivan crumbled quickly. As the years went by, it was obvious Fransek was being pushed back. I couldn't just go down with a sinking ship for the sake of loyalty.”
“So you stabbed him in the back?”
“Fransek agreed to it. He told me to hand him over to Ivan. He said if he was going to lose anyway, he might as well get something out of it.”
I quickly suppressed my inner turmoil.
Fransek agreed to it? To sell himself out to Ivan?
This was unexpected. It wasn't part of my calculations.
“And what did he get in return?”
“A future.”
Ilay looked at me with unperturbed blue eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was lying.
“You call barely clinging to life while confined a ‘future’?”
“Otherwise, he would have been utterly crushed, losing even the slightest opportunity. During the Storm Era, Fransek made enemies of the noble factions, and that became his fatal flaw. Ivan, on the other hand, coaxed the nobles to his side, even at the cost of weakening imperial authority.”
“And why was he only confined, not killed?”
“Fransek’s existence draws out the rebels who oppose Ivan. There have been several rescue attempts already. Doesn’t this setup feel familiar? Of course, the position of Akies Domini, the Watcher, is currently vacant. Though one might exist somewhere I don’t know about.”
Fransek was a light, and his mere existence drew the moths to the flame.
They’re still disgustingly good at this. How typical of the Empire.
Ilay was deeply entrenched in the Empire’s shadows—perhaps even deeper than I had once been.
“And Ivan wanted you. It seems he found a clue to bring you back from your comatose state, but my gut told me it wouldn't be through normal means. I felt like whatever came back wouldn't be the Luka I knew, just some entity wearing the shell of your memories. To get you out of the Empire… we needed to distract Ivan, even for a moment. Fransek served as the perfect bait.”
I stared at the half-empty glass of milk. Tilting the bottle of liquor in front of me, I filled the rest of the glass with it. It would probably taste awful, but I wasn’t drinking it for the flavor.
Gulp.
My throat worked as I downed it, the burning aftertaste of alcohol surging back up. I already knew who was coming next in his story.
“You used Giselle to get me out.”
“When Fransek was arrested, Ivan’s resources were focused there. Even the Emperor can’t just go around arresting and torturing anyone he pleases. In particular, even though he knew Giselle had smuggled you out, he couldn't interrogate her easily. Her influence was substantial. Unlike other corporations, G&G focused on products for the lower class and commoners. The daughter of the family to which the Noble Hunter Luka belonged was releasing products for commoners. Her support in the Lower District was rock-solid.”
“So even with a pretext, Ivan couldn't afford to touch Giselle and the Custoria family right after confining Fransek, who was also incredibly popular in the Lower District.”
“In fact, after Giselle went missing, the Imperial Family's reputation took a massive hit from conspiracy theories. There were even a couple of riots, big and small.”
It seemed Ilay had done his best, in his own way. A bitter smile touched my lips. Ragnata’s words came back to me.
“That insidious friend of yours would have done anything for you.”
If what Ilay was saying was true, then he had acted for my sake. He had done everything he could to wrest me from Ivan's grasp. As proof, here I was, free and clear of the Empire.
Assuming any of this isn’t a lie.
My bad habit flared up again. Assume the worst. Because of it, I always kept the possibility of a friend’s betrayal in mind.
It's not that I don't trust Ilay.
If a battle broke out here and now and Ilay lost consciousness, I would risk my life to protect him.
But separate from that, I always contemplated despair, the worst-case scenario.
I would always move with the possibility of Ilay’s betrayal in mind. Still, I had grown softer. In the past, I didn't just consider betrayal a possibility; I moved with the absolute conviction that others were using me for their own malicious ends. Because of that, I lost Heilas.
“Listen closely, Luka. The unexpected problem was Giselle. After smuggling you out of the Empire, she hid information even from me and acted entirely on her own. She completely concealed your whereabouts. For whatever reason, she didn't trust me.”
“She managed to deceive even you?”
“Luka, Giselle is the head of a corporation. She's not the noble young lady you remember. She silenced several people by killing them. Dead men tell no tales, after all. Especially when you crush their brains to a pulp.”
“That's a lie… No, keep talking, Ilay. I’ll shut up and listen.”
I shook my head, gritting my teeth.