Chapter 412
Chapter 412
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 412
Chapter Title: Chapter 18. Railed (16)
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Q. If you asked Volteus, "What happened to the Lord Fragment?" how would he respond?
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....That thing. It's what I've been agonizing over all day since leaving the Brasol family.
I knew from the start it was an extremely dangerous question.
Right? Just looking at the predictable answers: "I stole it." / "Someone else there stole it and kept quiet." / "Grahhh— You caught on, you bastard!" / Something like that. The question itself was a landmine that explodes the moment you step on it. No matter the response, it wouldn't end well.
Sure, with my life on the line, I wanted to let it slide.... But my current situation meant I was screwed no matter where I went if Volteus turned out to be some weirdo.
'Excluding the Railship's own defenses, Volteus is the only elite combatant.'
The knights I trusted—Volteus and the other four—had all been passengers. Without Volteus, the Railship crew couldn't put up a proper fight.
And I sure as hell couldn't switch sides to the Brasol family, who were up to insane crap like "Whoop-de-doo~ Splitting corpses duplicates the fragments!"
So, like it or not, the only solution was to figure out Volteus's true state, butter him up, and stick with him.
That's why I stepped on the landmine, knowing full well it would blow.
Of course, since I knew it would explode, I had countermeasures ready!
If he stole it: "Good job! It went back to its rightful owner! As expected of our knight!"
If he sold it for a price: "It was noble trash anyway—you cashed in on it! Good job! As expected of our knight!"
Whatever it was, I'd grovel and cling on, shaking my little bell. Sure, it was a big theft, but it didn't make Volteus some irredeemable monster.
Even in the worst case—if Volteus turned out to be power-mad and corrupted by the Lord Fragment like "Grahhh, the power of the Mutant Lord! With this power, I could...!"—I'd sweet-talk and coax him into sticking with me!
Mutants might have human-hating as a passive trait, but he'd been traveling with the Railship folks so far, right? In this era, mutants operated on a Lord-by-Lord basis, so with some fast-talking, maybe I could swing it. I knew more about the 4th World that I didn't know, so I considered every possibility.
"Volteus. Where did the Lord Fragment from the subjugated Mutant Lord 'Cool Phag' go?"
With countermeasures for every scenario and mentally braced to minimize damage no matter how it blew up, I threw myself in.
Click!
"I'll ask you. Mutant."
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.
.
.
.
.
?
"....Pardon?"
What did I just hear?
"Who sent you? The Thebeus of Weeping Howls? Autam of Vast Heavens? Or.... from the mainland? To retrieve the Lord Fragment?"
??????
I swear to the heavens, to Jesus, Buddha, and Roham all together—I never even dreamed of an answer like that!
'Why? Why mutant all of a sudden? From where? Me? Do Shard Knights have some veteran-detecting ability(?)?'
The barrel—or cannon mouth?—jammed against my forehead brimmed with energy that could blow my head off, while a sharp crystal tip grew, poised to gouge out my eyeball.
For the first time in ages, razor-edge crisis mode kicked my flabby brain into overdrive.
'Mutant. What did I say related to that keyword?'
Volteus had said, [The talent to activate others' fragments is a rare ability even among Lords.]
Volteus's mood shifted right after his fragment armament activated. Circumstantially, it pointed to talent—fragment activation.
'And come to think of it, there was this oddly magnetic pull. Assuming I was the one who activated Volteus's fragment.'
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Professor Brasol
Suddenly appeared from outside.
Possesses remarkable magical talent at just nine years old.
After visiting "that house," uncovers a plot targeting us from there. And he's from that house.
Not stopping there, devises a solid countermeasure to the plot. At nine years old.
Ding ding ding!
Conclusion: Suspicious as hell, not your typical nine-year-old outsider.
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He was already plenty mysterious from the situation alone, and now this newly confirmed fact piled on.
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+ Possesses the talent to activate others' fragments—a skill only a handful of Mutant Lords have.
= Suspicious as hell, not your typical nine-year-old, outsider.... Mutant.
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'....Makes sense to shoot, huh?'
Should I praise Volteus's caution? If it were me, I'd have strung him up from that "from that house" slip alone.
Crunch—
'Ugh, aaagh! Time, no time!'
While I spaced out for a second, the sharp crystal grazed my eyelashes. Volteus gripped the gun with lips pressed tight, rummaging his belt pouch with his free hand. Normally, that's for potions or hemostatics....
'He's even planning to dig it out and treat it!'
In interrogation or torture, treatment isn't kindness—it's life support for prolonged sessions.
One wrong word, and I'd be in for a full 18-hour course of 4th World field torture.
How many seconds until that crystal grows into my eyeball? Ten? Fifteen?
'Got the cause. Figured out the misunderstanding and what he's thinking. So, how do I stop him?'
Think, think!
'Cut the justification for his actions! His stiff expression shows he doesn't enjoy gouging eyeballs! Break the [must do it] thought loop....'
Missing pieces! Info—what'd I miss in our talk?
Torture. Extracting desired answers from the target.
What Volteus wants? My identity. He straight-up asked what I was.
The 20-hour maintenance was bullshit too, right? He said it'd take 20 hours to catch me.... Damn it, has the whole Railship crew agreed to interrogate me?
After confirming I was a mutant, he asked about fancy names, and definitely....
'....From the mainland? To retrieve the Lord Fragment?'
'Lord Fragment retrieval?'
Retrieval? Retrieval....?
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.
.
.
!!
'Fragment! Volteus has the Lord Fragment! And the entire Railship engine crew knows it!'
Sudden action.
Aggressive move unlike his usual demeanor.
Even emotionless Volteus biting his lip—requires iron will.
Underpinning all this.... Anxiety.
Not triggered by meeting me—he'd assumed this scenario long ago.
Someone mutant-related shows up asking about the Lord Fragment.
The instant I asked, he thought, 'It's here.'
'And when I mentioned the Brasol plot, I said they [think] Volteus took the missing Lord Fragment.'
Even the Brasols only suspected highly—couldn't confirm.
I said that clearly, yet none of the engine crew—not even Naelda, who banters curses with Volteus—asked, "You got it?"
Why? They already knew!
No one comes despite the tail car flashing with wild energy.
They're all in on it. The whole Railship crew abetted stealing the Lord Fragment, and they've subtly suspected outsider Professor Brasol as the tracker.
'Closed group.... I underestimated the magic train clique.'
Hints were there.
From Straug to Parda Fortress, at least a week cooped in the hot, cramped train for meals and sleep.
Yet the engine crew didn't step outside the station fence upon arrival—not to unwind.
Only one went out: Shard Knight Volteus Straug.
The sole one who could handle himself if shit hit the fan.
They're guarding something fiercely, and my presence and question struck it fatally.
'No way to persuade them.'
Fear and anxiety. Logic born outside reason can't be fixed inside it in short time. Needs long, root-deep persuasion till perfect logic touches the anxiety's root.
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"....Actually, this works out better."
Heh—
The fragment crystal so close it stung like a foreign body with every blink—and suddenly, I laughed.
My smile only fueled Volteus's anxiety.
"Monster. No need to answer now. Plenty of time prepped for you, and the fewer body parts left, the higher your answer's credibility."
"Yeah? Then why don't you enjoy that fancy full course....?"
"Hm?!"
Splurt!
'Kya啊啊啊!'
Pain's familiar, but enduring a sharp crystal piercing your eyeball without screaming takes insane willpower.
'Irrational, illogical realm? I'm a champion at that, you bastards!'
Who am I?
Top of blind faith and sensibility, pinnacle of illogic!
Former religious heavyweight, whom folks dared call "Great Hero Saint"!
Tremble!
'He's shaken, keep shaking!'
I felt Volteus's tremor at the crystal's sharp tip in my eye.
Chatty right before torture, hesitating repeatedly.
Volteus wasn't used to this. Just the only one who could handle a 1-on-1 if I were a real mutant hitman.
Volteus was good-hearted by nature.
And now, before he steeled himself fully, I leaned forward—thrusting him into this sudden mess.
His hand had just half-blinded a nine-year-old boy 'suspected' of being a monster.
'Suspected monster boy! Suspected! Near-certain but not 100%—still possible I'm just a smart, innocent nine-year-old!'
I've been disassembled like a plastic model before, so I know if an eyeball stab is unrecoverable or fixable with potion and basic care—but for Volteus, this crossed an irreversible line. Blood streamed from my eye.
"As expected.... a monster...."
"Ha, monster? You serious, Volteus? What about me screams mutant to you!"
Strike hard now while his firm conviction wavers—shake the roots.
"Smart head? You know as a bastard son yourself—no one cares about kids like us, so we obsess over something to forget loneliness! For you, physical training! That's how a marriage-alliance blood pawn like you got knight training!"
"That's...."
"For me, it was books! Worlds of words without chit-chat! Adventure tales! Biographies of saints sharing my name! If wisdom's my crime, curse the family head who tossed me nameless into a rain gutter shed! Forsaken solitude made me wise!"
"That's sophistry—"
"Sophistry! Sure! A kid who can't swim left drowning hours in a giant tub, ignored—that's the real sophistry and bullshit! What family has such a child? Only bastard sons of nobles go unnoticed!"
Empathy. Stir shared past in shaken Volteus.
One half-step forward.
As the crystal digs deeper, visibly rattled Volteus pulls back arm too.
"....Talent! Your talent—that Shard Knight fragment activation, unique to mighty Mutant Lords, making them top dogs in the shattered continent!"
"Oh, now my rare, special talent's the issue? If you're asking about something only mutants have, I'll ask about something only mutants have!"
Step.
Deeper, one more step. Make retreated Volteus feel the wall at his back.
I cupped blood from my deeply stabbed eye and held it out.
"Books say mutant blood reeks disgustingly sweet. You've crossed soft lands fighting hordes, so you know their blood better than me. Is this monster blood or human?"
Fact.
Shove undeniable fact in shaken man's face to make him forget unexplainables.
The one provable fact here. Past mutants differ from current ones, so features might not match what I knew.
But at least, this blood differs from human.
Shard Knight Volteus couldn't mistake the blood filling my hand—drawn by his own hand from a nine-year-old boy—as anything but pure human.
....Sizzle!
'Kya啊啊啊ㅏㅣk#@*&!!'
Killing intent plummeted; Volteus's face filled with turmoil and dismay.
Crystal from his gun barrel shrank, blood gushing freer from my eye.
Nice visual effect.
"Volteus. You answered none of my questions, so here's one you can."
"...."
"You asked my identity."
"So, what answer from me would've cleared your suspicions?"
"Uhmm...."
"You'd know this much, right? You paired torture with the question to hear an answer—you must've thought of right and wrong ones!"
Final logic barrage at fact-smashed, wavering Volteus.
What should I have said?
What words would've made him drop suspicions instantly?
'Can't answer, can you? No way? Your anxiety-fueled imagination dragged us here!'
No logical persuasion for me, same for him—no logical rebuttal to this.
"....I made a mistake."
Growling like chewed gravel, Volteus's crystals melted back to his shoulder, linking him and his weapon.
Face like he'd bite his tongue, Volteus alternated between my dripping eye and his hand.
'Tough mentality. Smashed it by luck—pile on the guilt debt now!'
At least worth one eyeball—at least make him swear surrogate fatherhood—
Clunk—Bang!
"Hey, kiddo. Stop tormenting poor little Volteus and chat with big sis?"
"Ugh—"
Heavy iron door flung open, engine light flooding the dim tail car.
"Heard it all~"
"Naelda?"
"Old fart put up a fight, huh?"
Fallen elf Naelda, sweat-matted hair tossed, strode in.
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