Chapter 76
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 76
Akbaran, the capital of the Empire, was practically a living thing. Its boundaries expanded year after year through endless construction and development.
The Lower District wrapped around Akbaran like a belt, leaving only the central Upper District untouched. Along the borders of the Upper District lay the Middle Class District, and the farther out one went toward the edges of the Lower District, the more it dissolved into chaotic slums.
Whirrrr.
The aerial vehicle carrying Ivan and me touched down in the Lower District—a public airfield set right in the middle of a bustling downtown.
Public, but not free. Credits were deducted the moment we landed.
Click.
The locks disengaged, and the vehicle's doors slid upward.
Step.
I stepped out first and scanned our surroundings.
Being a public airfield, it was packed with crowds. No one spared Ivan or me a second glance. Here, even royalty was just another face in the throng.
"Luka, I'm leaving my security entirely to you. When it comes to safety, feel free to speak to me as if you're giving orders."
Ivan said this as he climbed out of the vehicle. He wore a hat to hide his delicate features. His aristocratic looks naturally drew the eye, so this was probably his best bet for staying unnoticed.
"Where would you like to go first?"
At my question, Ivan pressed an index finger to his lips, deep in thought.
"Wherever our feet take us. I'll leave that to you too. Didn't you say you were originally from the Lower District?"
So I had to play tour guide on top of my security duties. If he weren't royalty, I would have grumbled out loud.
Damn, my chest felt heavy. I thought I had plenty of nerve, but the pressure of guarding royalty was crushing. This was no ordinary assignment.
A descendant of the founders.
That very bloodline stood right beside me. He could have me executed on a whim. If he were just a spoiled young master, I could swallow my pride and humor him, but...
The Ivan I'd seen was no ordinary person. It was impossible to read his thoughts. I couldn't let myself be lulled by his innocent words and appearance.
Stay calm. Keep your mind cold and rational.
Don't get worked up. I've been handed a mission where failure isn't an option.
Ivan descended the airfield steps and started looking around. He stopped in front of a street stall selling cheap synthetic food.
Without paying, he grabbed a skewer and strolled back over to me.
"Look at this. It's my favorite food."
Clearly, this wasn't his first time in the Lower District.
"There are a lot of thieves around here, so you'd best pay properly," I said with a sigh.
I spotted the stall owner running after Ivan. I intended to toss him a credit chip and send him on his way.
"Luka, that man is noisy. Kill him."
Ivan turned around, shaped his hand into a gun, and aimed it at the stall owner.
...Ivan had given an order.
This was different from killing fish. The stall owner was human. And all he'd done was chase after a food thief. He'd done nothing wrong.
Well—not entirely innocent. Even if he didn't recognize Ivan, he'd dared to shout at royalty.
But was that kind of ignorance really a death sentence?
Don't make arbitrary judgments, Luka. Just follow orders. I am a soldier of the Empire. A descendant of the founders has commanded me.
My thoughts ran long, but in real time, only a split second had passed.
"Haha, just kidding. Did you really think I'd order you to kill someone over this? Go pay him."
Ivan laughed and lowered his hand. I couldn't tell whether he'd noticed my hesitation.
I handed a credit chip to the stall owner. As I paid, Ivan chewed on the rubbery meat skewer.
He left the guiding entirely to me. It seemed he wanted to see the sights of the Lower District.
I led him through the safest routes possible—places with a decent lower-class atmosphere and a few pickpockets, but no armed robbers.
This should be enough to satisfy him.
Ivan dragged everything out, showing interest in every single thing he saw as if it were all fascinating. Sometimes he'd spend two or three hours in a general store where it wasn't even clear what they sold.
"It's getting dark, Lord Ivan."
"Just call me Ivan. 'Lord' is too stiff."
"Understood, Ivan."
"And loosen up that rigid attitude a little. No need to be so tense."
"Well, I'm a soldier by nature..."
I trailed off. My tone could have come across as slightly sarcastic. Damn it, Luka, you couldn't hold it in.
"Exactly, Luka! Talking back makes it feel like we're getting closer!"
On the contrary, Ivan clapped his hands in delight.
Well, if it made him happy, I could throw in some backtalk now and then. It was easier for me not to hold back anyway. The problem was I never knew when this royal boy might change his mind and decide my insolence deserved punishment.
"It's late, so go find us a place to stay. We're sleeping here tonight."
Sleeping in the Lower District? I combed through all the lodging options nearby. Naturally, there was nothing fit for royalty.
I picked the best hotel available—an automated one that offered strict privacy.
At the hotel, I swiped my credit chip and entered the room. Everything from payment to check-in was fully automated. Even I found the place unfamiliar.
Shhhhh.
The sound of running water echoed from the shower. I inspected the room while Ivan washed up. No suspicious devices.
Clack.
Finished with his shower, Ivan walked out into the living room, dripping wet.
Knowing he was naked, I kept my back turned.
"Luka, look at me."
Ivan spoke quietly. I closed my eyes, opened them, and turned around.
"You've changed."
"Fascinating, isn't it?"
Ivan smiled brightly. By "changed," I meant his gender.
Ivan's body was a full-body prosthetic. So sophisticated that even I hadn't been sure until now whether he was fully prosthetic or only partially cybernetic.
Whir, whir.
Ivan's breasts swelled and flattened over and over. The subtle skeletal differences between a boy and a girl shifted with mechanical whirs. His genitals did the same. A cutting-edge variable prosthetic—something not even sold on the market.
Ivan's prosthetic settled into a female form. He circled around me as if showing off the naked body.
Thud.
He sat on the bed, pinched a towel off the floor with his toes, and flicked it right to my feet.
"Come here, Luka. Let's have some fun."
He whispered sweetly, beckoning me. I knew exactly what that meant. I might have lacked experience, but I wasn't some sexually clueless fool.
"My duty is to guard you, Ivan."
My reply was beyond stiff—it bordered on hostile.
"I am royalty. My orders are absolute to you. Do you intend to defy the Empire?"
I shut my eyes for a moment. Heilas's words came to mind.
'This is a mission for the Imperial Guard. Your judgment is the Guard's judgment.'
I narrowed my eyes and exhaled. How would Heilas have handled this? Once I'd thought it through, I spoke.
"If you need a prostitute, I can introduce you to one. I know a few people. Man or woman, whichever you prefer."
"Are you joking? Luka, I'm serious this time. This is different from before. It's not like I'm asking you to kill someone, is it?"
Ivan's voice rose. He even took on a domineering tone, as though his pride had been wounded.
"You must know my personality well by now. Making such an unreasonable demand... is it because you want me to disobey and reject the order?"
Ivan was no spoiled royal. He had a cold, ruthless mind. I could tell even from our brief acquaintance.
There had to be a purpose behind his bizarre behavior.
Click, creak.
Ivan's prosthetic shifted back to its male form. He crossed his legs, rested his elbow on his knee, and propped up his chin.
"How upright of you. I think I'm starting to like you even more."
"I think I'm starting to dislike you."
I spat out the insolent words. Yet Ivan broke into a broad grin—an unpleasantly bright one.
* * *
I sat on the sofa all night without sleeping. Going three or four days without rest was nothing to me. With nothing else to do, I ran combat simulations in my head, dozens of times.
"Luka, there's somewhere I want to go today."
Ivan, who had slept naked, gathered his clothes and pulled them on.
"If you give me the destination, I'll call a taxi."
"No, I want to walk. I like the air in the Lower District. It's lukewarm and unpleasant."
The more we talked, the more I understood how eccentric he was.
...Liking something because it was unpleasant.
We left the automated hotel. Day had already broken, and people were bustling through the streets.
I guarded Ivan, kicking away a pickpocket who'd been hard at work since early morning. Each time, Ivan laughed in amusement.
Screeech!
A streetcar tore through the Lower District with a harsh screech. People grimaced at the deafening noise rising from the worn-out tracks.
I turned to look at the road. Large vehicles crammed with people like cargo moved in a long line. They were heading to work with hollow, soulless faces. Most lower-class citizens like them would ride an aerial vehicle only a handful of times in their entire lives.
"It's a sight you'd never see in the pristine Upper District. I rather like this chaotic atmosphere. Don't you?"
Ivan yawned as he passed by me. He strode ahead as if he already had a destination in mind.
"From above, you might feel some romantic sentiment toward the Lower District... but the people living here are desperately clawing their way up. What you're feeling right now, Ivan, is the arrogance of the privileged."
Of course, I often felt a sense of liberation whenever I came back to the Lower District. But I was from here. Hearing someone from the Upper District—royalty at the very top, no less—wax poetic about the "romance" of the Lower District turned my stomach.
"Thanks for being honest, Luka. I'm glad I brought you along."
Ivan spoke without a hint of irritation. He walked into the dense crowd. I followed close behind, keeping up my security duties.
Traveling on foot grew more dangerous the closer we got to the outskirts of the Lower District. As long as I was guarding him, nothing would happen, but it was still a hassle.
We walked in silence for about two hours. Before long, the surroundings turned familiar. It was a street I'd seen countless times in my childhood.
And there, in the distance, a building came into view.
The 72nd Orphanage.
This was where I was born and raised.
"Cheer up. It's your childhood home."
"I don't have many good memories of it."
"They say a miserable childhood is the key to success."
I agreed with that, to a point. But just like before, I didn't like hearing those words come from the mouth of royalty.
"Shall we go inside, then?"
Ivan approached the orphanage building as if he were on a picnic.
The Orphanage Director, in his first-floor office, spotted us through the window. The director—whose face I'd once shattered with my fist—looked a bit more handsome now, as if he'd had reconstructive surgery. It must have cost a fortune; he'd clearly hoarded plenty of wealth over the years.
"L-Luka! W-why are you here a-again? S-since last time, I-I haven't embezzled a single thing! I swear!"
The director spoke as if his guilty conscience was giving him away. But the person he should have feared right now wasn't me—it was Ivan. He was practically confessing to embezzlement in front of a member of the Imperial Family.
"No, well, I didn't come here on business. Good to see you looking healthy."
I said, stepping back behind Ivan.
"Orphanage Director Don Alken?"
"Y-yes, sir!"
The director looked bewildered, then instantly tensed.
Ivan's pupils glowed brightly. His voice was still soft and melodic, but its pitch dropped, carrying the oppressive weight of a predator.
The director must have realized at once that the boy before him was no ordinary person.
"...You are like a parasite, eating away at the Empire."
Ivan spoke as if he knew everything about the director. No—he probably did.
"H-hehe, I'm not quite sure what you mean... but if there's anything you need, please, just say the word..."
The director broke into a cold sweat, offering the practiced flattery that had become second nature to him. His survival instinct.
Ivan walked up to him. Overwhelmed by something, the director fell silent.
Click.
Ivan's arm moved. He struck the director's neck with the edge of his hand.
Slash!
The blow sliced clean through the director's neck. Whatever mechanism was at work, it cut smoothly—like a blade with a monomolecular coating.
The director realized far too late that his head had been severed, his face twisting in sheer horror. He opened his mouth to scream, but only a choking gasp came out.
"Luka, even if you hated the director, killing him would have been hard for you. And the cleanup would have been a pain."
Ivan lifted the director's head, still conscious.
He planted a kiss on the forehead. Then he squeezed his hand.
Squish!
The head burst effortlessly, like a rotten fruit. Blood and flesh splattered in an unreal display.
"Don Alken's death is a gift for you. I've already appointed an excellent successor for the director's post. Someone capable and honest."
Drenched in blood, Ivan smiled. I stared at him with a blank expression.
The Emperor was practically a god in the Empire, and royalty were the family and descendants of that god. And Ivan was no benevolent deity.
...The only gift, the only affection a god of death could offer, was the death of another.
"Thank you, Ivan."
I placed a hand over my chest and bowed.
Beep.
A message popped up on my retinal display: the security mission had ended.