Chapter 54
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 54
After many twists and turns, we finally arrived at the hospital. The acrid stench of smoke still clung to our bodies.
"What's your relationship to the patient? If you're not a legal guardian, visitation isn't allowed."
The nurse spoke with an annoyed expression, not even bothering to look up at us. Her computer screen was crammed with shopping catalogs.
"Sweetheart, will this do? Go buy yourself something nice."
Gabriel smoothly produced a credit chip and held it out. The nurse reached over without a second glance and slipped the chip into her pocket.
Both of them seemed thoroughly accustomed to this kind of exchange.
"Mr. Noma is in Room 401."
The name of Tora's close associate we were looking for was Ken Noma. He had once served as Tora's personal bodyguard.
As we stepped into the corridor lined with patient rooms, a musty smell of medicine mixed with body odor hit us. From behind the closed doors, occasional groans that sounded like screams of agony echoed out.
This psychiatric hospital was practically a prison built for isolation. If they'd had any intention of actually treating the patients, they wouldn't have kept them in a place like this.
I stopped in front of Room 401. With a heavy clank, the thick lock came open.
Screeeech.
The rusted sound, as if the door were rarely opened, grated unpleasantly against my eardrums.
"Ken Noma?"
I called out the man's name as I stepped inside.
Ken Noma sat on the hospital bed. His eyes were vacant, his cheeks hollow and gaunt. The bedsheets and pillows were mottled with musty yellow stains.
Ken didn't react to my voice.
I sat down in the chair in front of him. Gabriel, who had followed me in, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.
"My name is Luka."
I opened my palm and waved it in front of Ken's eyes. His pupils tracked the movement.
"Lu... ka?"
Ken's return to awareness was painfully slow. His grip on reality had deteriorated badly.
Click, clack, click-clack.
Ken's prosthetic limbs trembled as though convulsing. It meant the neural system controlling his muscles and motor functions was completely fried.
"Luka, do you really think you'll get a straight answer out of him? It's obvious his brain's full of holes like a sponge. His nerves are probably like burnt-out wiring."
Ken was so far gone that even Gabriel could diagnose him.
"I have some questions about Tora."
I spoke slowly. This time there was no response from Ken.
His consciousness flickered in and out like a broken monitor. Normal conversation was impossible. After several failed attempts to reach him, I scratched my head.
"It's a lost cause. Aleph broke him completely. He might as well be dead."
Gabriel kept chiming in, throwing cold water on the whole thing. I didn't answer. I closed my eyes.
I dug through and sifted the knowledge I'd absorbed at the Imperial Guard Training Center.
Imperial Guardsmen push their brains and nervous systems to the absolute limit. As part of that, they're taught several temporary workarounds for the symptoms of nervous system damage. Of course, none of them were real cures.
Ken was good with close-quarters weapons—especially knives.
Ken had been the personal bodyguard of the arena manager. He'd been fairly skilled. Not on the level of an Imperial Guardsman, but he seemed to have undergone nervous system enhancement through drugs.
"Let's go. This is a waste of time," Gabriel said, jiggling one leg.
Ignoring him, I reached for my waist.
Sshing.
I drew my self-defense knife. The look in Ken's eyes shifted. His pupils tracked the blade. His reaction speed was faster than before.
Humans forge powerful neural connections around the professions they devote their lives to. Especially intense callings like combat—those don't leave the body so easily.
Twirl.
I spun the knife in my hand and offered him the hilt.
Tremble.
Ken grabbed the knife with a shaking hand. In that instant, his tremors stopped. His pupils came into sharper focus than before.
Whoosh!
I thrust my hand forward, aiming to strike him.
Clang!
Ken swept his knife up and blocked. My hand and his blade clashed again and again as we traded blows.
Once the brain's pathways for combat and knife techniques were activated, its other functions would begin firing up too—assuming he had that much reserve capacity left. If even this was completely broken, there'd be nothing more to try.
"W-what... what's going on? Did you say... Lu-Luka?"
Ken finally asked a question. His consciousness was slowly surfacing. He was probably fighting off a splitting headache.
"Wh-what the—? How did you do that?"
Gabriel uncrossed his arms and pushed off the wall.
It was a simple principle. To put it in an analogy: I'd bypassed a broken switch and used an alternative circuit to run the machine. It was only a temporary awakening. Since it wasn't a proper medical procedure, it would put even more strain on his damaged brain. But curing him had never been the goal, so it didn't matter.
"I-it's been so long. To have... such a clear mind. No, it's not clear. It feels like someone's setting off fireworks inside my skull. B-but it's better than being stuck in that swamp."
I attacked at a pace Ken could easily react to. He moved his knife, blocking my hands over and over, occasionally slipping in a counter.
Screech!
I caught the blade between my fingers, halting it. Ken yanked the knife back, his lips curling with interest.
Clang!
I had to keep the exchange going to hold his brain in its activated state. The moment the fighting stopped, his consciousness would sink back down.
"I came because there's something I want to ask."
"Are... are you one of Aleph's men? So you've still got questions for me."
"I didn't come because of Aleph. I only got information from him. What I'm curious about are the people around Tora."
"The... the boss's associates?"
If Kinuan had ever dealt with Tora, he almost certainly wouldn't have used his real name.
I described Kinuan's traits. A man with an aura like his was rare. Especially in the Lower District—someone like him would be even harder to find.
Ken rested his chin in one hand while idly swinging the knife with the other. When he'd finished thinking it over, he stared at me.
"I think I might know him. B-but why should I t-tell you?"
Ken was no saint. He was a gang member from the Lower District. He wasn't about to help anyone without a reward.
"I'll get you out of this hospital. Gabriel—you've got a spare room at your place, right?"
"What? You want me to play nursemaid to some senile old man?"
"Just put up with it for a few days. Oh, and find a safehouse. Round up some people you trust, too. From now on, we're building a gang—with you as the boss."
"Hold on! Luka, what the hell are you talking about?"
"If you don't want to, just say so. I'll find someone else."
"No, it's not that I don't want to, but—"
This was a plan I'd been turning over for a while. I needed hands and feet to work for me in the Lower District. Gabriel alone wasn't enough. I needed an organization—a gang.
As my thoughts reached that point, my eyes went wide.
Maybe Kinuan, too...
Why hadn't I seen it sooner?
For Kinuan to carry out off-the-books missions in the Lower District, he would have needed an organization to serve as his hands and feet. That was exactly why he'd set Tora up to form a gang.
In other words, the relationship between Kinuan and Tora must have mirrored the one between Gabriel and me. It was only a deduction, but the circumstantial evidence made me all but certain.
"You're really going to get me out of here?"
"Believe me or not, Ken Noma—you don't have much of a choice."
"Y-you're a sharp kid. You're right. I've got no choice but to trust you. Nothing left to lose anyway."
If he refused my offer, Ken Noma would simply rot here. If he accepted, there was at least a chance he could escape.
Clang!
Ken swung his arm, eyes going dull again. His blade aimed for my throat—but slower than before. The temporary awakening was wearing off.
"Then let me tell you what I know, Luka. There isn't much time."
Ken said that Tora had an old friend and benefactor. That mysterious man wasn't a member of the gang, nor did he take part in any public dealings. Only someone as close as Ken could have known he existed.
That benefactor had to be Kinuan.
In truth, Tora's gang had belonged to Kinuan all along. Tora's fall likely came after Kinuan retired from active duty and the two lost contact. It would be easy enough to confirm with a bit of digging.
* * *
After giving Gabriel a few instructions, I headed straight up to the Upper District. Gabriel grumbled the whole time as he pushed Ken's wheelchair, but he followed my orders well enough.
I made my way to the Imperial Guard's database room. Because it ran on a closed network, external access was impossible—only a physical connection was allowed.
I linked my terminal to the computer and pulled up Kinuan's record once more.
Kinuan becoming an instructor overlaps with the timing of Tora's downfall.
After Kinuan retired, Tora's gang rapidly disintegrated.
Three years later, Tora died after losing at the arena. It looked like he'd originally meant to flee with his slush fund.
"Did Kinuan abandon Tora?"
I thought about the relationship between Gabriel and me. Even if we built a gang, Gabriel wouldn't be able to run it alone. He'd need my counsel, my support.
Once the gang grows... if I simply wash my hands of it, Gabriel won't be able to walk away even if he wants to. He'll slowly decline and die—just like Tora.
From what I'd heard, Tora was greedy, but for a Lower District gang member he'd prized loyalty highly. That was why Ken had stayed at his side until the very end.
It was that loyal nature that made Kinuan choose Tora. And it was also why he was abandoned.
It wasn't that Kinuan had done anything strictly wrong. If anything, Tora had risen high thanks to him—becoming a gang boss, even the manager of the arena.
And yet Kinuan had left Tora to rot, fully aware he would fall. A man of Kinuan's caliber couldn't possibly have been blind to what awaited Tora.
Am I retracing Kinuan's footsteps—and repeating them at the same time?
It was a strange feeling. The deeper I dug, the more my present actions echoed his past. We both ran off-the-books missions in the same Lower District. We both recruited local followers to build our influence.
Having gathered what I needed, I also searched for data on Ken's rehabilitation and saved it to my terminal. The Imperial Guard had plenty of treatment cases for soldiers with brain dysfunction.
I intended to improve Ken's condition. Our conversation had been short, but he struck me as someone who could be useful in many ways. And there was still more to hear from him about Kinuan.
I disconnected the terminal and looked around. In the database room, only the repetitive hum of the massive, bookshelf-like computers resonated.
Listening quietly to that mechanical drone left my senses hazy. The rhythmic sound dulled my perception.
Step, step.
I walked toward the exit, threading between computers that towered over me.
Whirrr, whirrr.
Static noise drifted through the air. I stopped at the edge of the computer wall. Something was wrong.
Dust floated lazily through the purple glow of the lamps. I watched the way it moved. Beyond the airflow of the ventilators, the dust was being pulled by another force.
...Someone was hiding around the corner.
"Who's there?"
"Excellent, Luka. You've mastered the basics of Akies Victima. It's time to move on to the next stage."
Kinuan, who had concealed his presence, stepped into view. I buried my tangled emotions behind a blank face.
Honestly, I respected Kinuan. His praise didn't feel bad at all. But at the same time it was unsettling—as though he could see straight through me.
...Kinuan.
He was the strongest and most cunning person I had ever met. He balanced a web of competing interests to carve out his own safe ground. He was a man who never lost his way, even in the thick of chaos.
Yes—I had to admit it. I wanted to become a man like Kinuan.