The Counseling Office's New Security
Ian must have heard the news from somewhere. He contacted me after seeing my business card and handed over a petition.
That petition had a considerable impact on the appeal.
After all, it carried the signatures of every single resident of Sauhin Village.
I also provided some assistance to Draksan during the appeal process.
'I submitted a medical opinion stating that his assault on Hardy at the drinking party and on the investigator were crimes committed in a state of intermittent explosive disorder—essentially, while he was not in his right mind.'
Even the diagnosis and counseling records were submitted, but they alone did not have much effect.
The court acknowledged that he had lost control of his reason, and since even the victim Hardy sought leniency for the assault on him, that part was understandable. However, the assault on the investigator was deemed unforgivable.
Yet another argument was raised: if someone cannot control their anger and loses all reason to commit violence every time they feel it, then they should not be released back into society.
'Then the investigators' testimonies followed.'
Back when Director Justin had been kidnapped.
Draksan could have killed Director Justin, yet he did not. Even though he had more than enough emotional motive to do so.
Their testimony proved that Draksan was someone capable of restraining his anger.
It even demonstrated that his self-control surpassed that of ordinary people without intermittent explosive disorder.
Still, it remained questionable that Draksan's sentence was fully suspended.
Many people actually questioned the verdict.
After all, there had never been a case where a heavy sentence equivalent to fifteen years was reduced all the way to a suspended sentence.
"That? I did it."
After the trial ended, Director Justin came to see me and said this.
"I got involved in the trial. I abused my authority as director a little."
He spoke as if he had simply done what needed to be done.
"It didn't seem right to hold someone who saved my life to strict principles. So I used a bit of influence."
"So you are someone who considers human decency, Director? First time I've heard that."
"I've been wondering for a while what exactly you think of me."
When I stayed silent, Director Justin continued with a dark expression.
"I even started wondering if the principles I believed in were actually right."
"So what you're saying is that Draksan receiving a suspended sentence was largely thanks to you, Director. And you've come here for my praise."
"No, I didn't come for praise—"
"You did well. That's what anyone with a sense of decency would do."
When I gave him a thumbs-up, Director Justin sighed several times.
I could smell a faint trace of anger in his exhales.
"I didn't come here to receive praise, you know."
"I know. It was a joke. So, counseling at last?"
"No, like I've said from the beginning, I... Anyway, counseling is off the table. I came here today for a different reason."
What Director Justin pulled out was a medicinal herb.
It looked like ginseng or wild ginseng, yet it was neither.
Its shape had an almost unreal quality, and its size was far too large.
'I feel like I've seen this before.'
I searched my memory.
"It's a longevity herb."
"It also goes by the name mandrake. That guy Dementor we arrested last time was carrying it on him."
"Why are you giving this to me?"
"I never said I was giving it to you."
I frowned.
"Then you just took it out to brag?"
"It was a joke. Of course I brought it to give to you."
He chuckled, as if proud of having gotten his revenge.
"It wouldn't be of any use sitting around at the Public Security Bureau anyway. You'll make better use of it. Eris is the one who makes the medicines, right?"
"I develop the recipes. Eris handles the compounding."
Eris had some expertise in drugs, but not enough to develop new medicines.
That was why I created the recipes while Eris only compounded them.
'What kind of medicine could come from a longevity herb?'
I had only ever encountered longevity herbs in encyclopedias as legends written in text. This was the first time I had seen one in reality.
Although it was called a medicinal herb, there was no recorded history of it ever being turned into medicine.
I had only seen a few records of mages chewing it raw in an attempt to increase their magical power.
'I'll need to take the time to analyze it.'
If I analyzed it thoroughly, I might be able to develop an incredible new drug. Perhaps even one capable of treating illnesses that existing medicines struggled with, such as schizophrenia.
"Pass my thanks on to Miss Eris. I heard our Public Security Bureau received a lot of help from her this time."
"You're not going to thank me?"
"What?"
"A thank-you."
"I already gave you one. The longevity herb."
"Sometimes a single word of thanks is worth more than money or goods."
"Really? Then I'll give you my thanks, so hand the longevity herb back."
When Director Justin reached out to take my longevity herb, I quickly tucked it into my pocket.
"Let's not be childish, Director of the Public Security Bureau."
"If we're going by that logic, is it okay for a counselor to make people this angry?"
"Oh, are you angry?"
"No, it's not that I'm angry..."
After a brief, pointless exchange, Director Justin stood up.
"I've finished my business, so I'll be going. Ah, right. Are you still not interested in working at the Public Security Bureau? There's a position prepared just for you."
"You bring that up every time we meet. I'm not interested. The counseling office is doing quite well right now."
Director Justin smirked.
"That's a shame. I'll come find you again if the counseling office ever goes under."
"It won't go under."
"You never know what'll happen in life. I never thought I'd get kidnapped either."
Director Justin muttered as he put on his coat.
"...I never thought you'd come to save me either, or that Draksan would spare my life."
"Oh? I didn't quite catch that. Could you say it again?"
"You heard me. I'm leaving. I'm busy."
Director Justin stood up to leave the counseling office, then suddenly turned his head.
"By the way, about Draksan. Have you met him?"
"Not yet."
"How do you think he's doing?"
"I don't think he's doing well, all things considered."
I answered with concern.
"Especially now that news of Hardler's parole is circulating. I can't believe this is even possible. How can a serial killer be released after less than three years...?"
"Hardler is the only mage who knows how to train magical beasts. It seems he secured his parole in exchange for passing that secret on to the kingdom and the Mage Tower."
Draksan's condition had improved significantly. At least, that was how it appeared to me.
However, hearing the news of Hardler's parole would quickly worsen his state.
'...He might even try to find and kill Hardler now that he's been paroled and freed.'
If Draksan committed murder while on a suspended sentence, he would finally end up in prison this time.
"Speaking of that."
Director Justin stared out the window as he spoke.
"There should be some good news soon."
"Good news...?"
"It's hard to explain in words. You'll find out soon enough. I'm off."
Director Justin said this and left.
* * *
The Lumière Maximum Security Prison was exactly as its name suggested—a facility that primarily held the worst criminals.
Those who had committed rape-murder, serial murder, or rebellion.
Dementor, who had led the barbarian riot during the incident now called the "Director Justin Kidnapping Case," was also here.
"...They say 'Beast Trainer' Hardler is here too. I heard the two prisoners have been fighting over factions lately?"
"Yes. The guards are having a hard time controlling them."
Director Justin and Investigator Turner.
The two were walking down the corridor of the maximum security prison while talking, with the prison warden following behind them with an anxious expression.
"Dementor, that old man had his legs cut off. How is he still fighting over factions?"
"They say he's become the leader of the inmates by using some mysterious sorcery."
"Can't they just put a mana-sealing device on him?"
"Well, it's not magic, it's sorcery."
The warden carefully interjected.
"Is sorcery different from magic?"
"It is. It seems sorcery can still be used even if mana is sealed. It's probably some kind of innate ability."
"Hmm. There are occasionally people like that."
Justin thought of Kain.
He also possessed the ability to read others' mana flow and emotions just by holding their hands. That was closer to an innate ability than magic.
Dementor seemed to have a similar talent.
"Investigator Turner, now that I think about it, you worked with Mr. Kain last time, right? How was it?"
Justin asked as it occurred to him.
"...He was someone I couldn't understand. It felt like he was saying nonsense, but later it all turned out to be correct."
"Mr. Kain has a fortune-teller side to him. That's why I'm trying to recruit him to the Public Security Bureau."
"Why does someone like that run a counseling office?"
Investigator Turner asked, unable to understand.
"What's wrong with a counseling office? These days, not only nobles but even the kingdom's leadership is showing interest in Mr. Kain."
"Ah, what I mean is, if he did something else, his influence would probably be much greater. If he ran a business instead of a counseling office, for example."
"I think the same. I don't know. It seems like he has his reasons for insisting on the counseling office... but it's a good thing, really."
"What do you mean by good thing?"
"If Mr. Kain had used that skill to start a criminal organization, what would have happened? He would have become a big shot in the underworld. It's fortunate that didn't happen."
Justin's steps stopped.
"We've arrived."
Justin looked up. The name "Hardler" was written on the solitary confinement door.
Click. Creak.
When the door opened, a haggard-looking mage raised his head.
"'Beast Trainer' Hardler. Come out."
"Ah, was the parole hearing today? Heh heh."
Hardler stood up, his eyes gleaming.
"Time really flies. I thought it was tomorrow... Heh heh, heh."
"Follow me."
Justin started walking somewhere. Investigator Turner, the warden, and Hardler followed behind him.
Hardler kept making strange "heh heh" laughing sounds the entire way.
Justin frowned as he listened to the laughter.
"This country must be crazy too, granting parole to a lunatic like you."
"Heh heh, heh. This country sides with mages. You wouldn't know because you're not a mage..."
Hardler's words were true. The kingdom sided with mages more than anyone else.
It couldn't be helped. Mages were necessary for the advancement of civilization. The Kingdom of Lumière also relied heavily on mages for national defense.
"I know that well. I'm not a mage, but I am a magic-engineering technician. When I'm not handling Public Security Bureau work, I meet with mages from the Mage Tower to discuss magic engineering."
"Oh, really? Heh heh, I didn't know. So you're at least a 1.5th-class citizen?"
"It's a funny story. First-class citizens are mages, second-class are humans, third-class are barbarians, fourth-class are other races..."
It was a phrase that frequently came up among people who liked to divide others into groups and assign ranks.
"This should be far enough."
The place where Justin stopped was a plaza inside the prison. It was a space used by inmates for exercise.
In the past, escapes through this plaza had been frequent, so the area was surrounded by barbed wire and magic-engineering motion sensors to prevent escapes.
The barbed wire was enchanted with magical devices that sent electric currents through it. Occasionally, the smell of burning flesh mixed with crackling sounds as insects hit it. This only added to the bleak atmosphere.
"Investigator Turner, what was your motto again? I think I heard it during your interview."
"'To be just without a single point of shame.'"
"When I was a new investigator, my motto was similar. Something about what justice is and how to achieve it."
Justin smiled.
"I don't remember exactly. Only the word 'justice' remains. That damned justice."
Justin slipped his hand into his coat pocket.
"But carrying out justice equally isn't easy. Especially once you become a chief or director, it becomes even harder. You have to consider all sorts of political factors."
"..."
"Especially people like mages are difficult to judge legally... After running into all these practical problems, all I've done is rationalize more and more."
Investigator Turner took a step back.
"The other day, when I stood in front of Draksan, I realized something."
Justin recalled the moment Draksan had stood before him with an axe.
He had been afraid. Not because of death.
"I was becoming just like my father, whom I had hated so much."
Because the only thing he could say to Draksan was "It couldn't be helped."
Because that was the only phrase that came to mind—the same one his father had always used, the one he had sworn never to say himself.
"At some point, I started applying strict standards only to the weak. I started demanding justice only from the weak."
Even for the same crime, mages received lighter sentences. Barbarians and other races received heavier ones.
Justice favored the strong and was harsh on the weak.
"Actually, if you think about it, that's the essence of justice. Justice is something the strong enforce on the weak. It's impossible for the weak to demand justice from the strong."
"Heh, heh heh. You're right. But are we doing the parole hearing here? Huh?"
"Fundamentally, the weak cannot be just. I was weak, and so was my father. No, the Public Security Bureau itself is weak. That's why we couldn't be just..."
Justin muttered without acknowledging Hardler's words.
Hardler scratched his eyebrow and asked.
"That Draksan you mentioned earlier—is it the Draksan I know? That barbarian bastard?"
"Yes, the Draksan you know."
"Ooh, ooh ooh." Hardler grinned widely.
"Heh heh, I remember now. His wife was really pretty. She looked like she'd taste good to our Poppy..."
Justin pulled his hand out of his pocket.
Bang!
The sound of a firework exploding rang out.
It was the same sound as when explosion magic or a skilled mage's wind magic was fired.
Hardler's eyes widened. His body trembled violently before he collapsed to the ground.
Hardler clutched at his stomach. It was hot. Red blood gushed out from the hole in his stomach.
"Wh-what... is this...?"
"It's called a Dispenser."
"Dispen...? Cough."
A clump of blood came up with his cough.
Justin aimed the small scythe-like piece of metal at Hardler again.
"It's a magic-engineering tool with an implanted mana circuit. It fires simple magic using mana stones as fuel."
"Uh, ugh, s-save me. Save... me..."
"The Public Security Bureau developed it independently. Once you get used to handling a Dispenser, even ordinary people can easily kill mages."
Bang, bang, bang.
Justin pulled the trigger repeatedly.
Hardler's body shook with each gunshot.
Half of Hardler's head was blown off by the flame magic fired through the Dispenser.
Justin coldly looked down at Hardler's gruesome corpse.
"The Public Security Bureau will grow stronger with the Dispenser. So that no mage, no one, can interfere with our justice..."
Investigator Turner picked up Hardler's body and threw it onto the barbed wire.
Zap!
Hardler's body convulsed from the electric current running through the barbed wire. He would be recorded as having died from electrocution after touching the barbed wire during an escape attempt. Few people would question why someone about to be paroled would attempt to escape, but that didn't matter.
"Bring Dementor too."
Justin put the Dispenser back into his coat pocket and looked up at the sky.
Dark storm clouds covered the sky. Soon after, rain began to fall.
* * *
'The components of the longevity herb itself are simple. The manimin content is incredibly high.'
I was holed up in a corner of the compounding room, analyzing the longevity herb.
The longevity herb's components were extremely simple, but their concentration was enormous.
'Manimin's effects are mana amplification and acceleration. Just chewing and eating it raw would enhance both total mana capacity and magical power.'
Even without any refining process, simply chewing and swallowing it with the soil still on it would be like taking an elixir.
Even then, ordinary people would get stomachaches or, in severe cases, respiratory distress if they ate it.
It was a herb that only mages—and quite powerful ones at that—could digest.
'If I refine it and increase its purity...?'
I couldn't even guess what kind of drug would result.
It was uncertain whether it would even produce a medicine that would help patients.
Since its overall composition was similar to herbs used in making stimulants, it might produce something like Call of the Dawn...
Knock, knock.
Just then, a knock sounded.
I put down the longevity herb I had been analyzing, stood up, and went outside.
"Today's counseling is... ah."
I had been about to politely send away what I thought was another client when my eyes widened.
"Mr. Draksan. You're out."
"Yes."
I stared at Draksan in surprise for a moment.
'I almost didn't recognize him.'
His appearance and atmosphere had changed far too much.
His long, brownish hair remained the same.
However, instead of being loosely spread out as before, it was now neatly tied back.
His clothes were also clean. They had a casual suit-like feel.
Though his massive muscles made the shirt look like it might tear at any moment, he was still neat overall. Compared to the Draksan I had originally known, that is.
If he had previously carried a strong Rock Hunter tribe— or rather, barbarian—vibe, now he...
'He feels well-blended.'
The Rock Hunter tribe colors were still there, but he also gave off a so-called "ordinary" feeling.
It was like he had become sophisticated without losing his identity.
"You've improved."
"It's thanks to you, Doctor."
"How are you feeling?"
"Good. Really..."
Draksan answered in a trembling voice.
"When I heard that Hardler was being paroled, it felt like the sky was falling. But after hearing that he died, I was so happy. I don't get angry easily anymore. I can control it as much as I want now."
It was the day Director Justin had said there would be good news.
Hardler and Dementor were dead.
'Hardler and Dementor were reported to have died while fighting over factions.'
During the faction fight, Hardler killed Dementor, and immediately afterward, Hardler attempted to escape and died from electrocution after hitting the barbed wire. That was the official story.
Naturally, not many people actually believed it.
'...Director Justin must have done something.'
There were also rumors that the Public Security Bureau was planning something because of this incident.
It was a suspicious case in many ways.
But for Draksan, it was a good thing. It was like solving a problem without lifting a finger.
I pushed my thoughts aside and smiled.
"I'm glad to hear you've improved. So, what brings you here today?"
"I came to say thank you... and to pick up Lena."
"Miss Lena Caligus?"
While Draksan was on trial, his daughter Lena had stayed at our counseling office.
More precisely, she had been eating, sleeping, and receiving simple psychological treatment in the newly built ward for inpatient care.
"I can't afford to pay anymore. I've been in a situation where it's hard to work as a hunter for a while. Because of the last trial..."
After the trial, his hunter license would be suspended for some time, and there would be issues with carrying weapons as well.
Still, it seemed the suspension would be quickly lifted once he underwent reexamination.
"But I can't work as a hunter for the few months until the reexamination. I do have some money saved up, but..."
If Draksan had gone to prison, he could have used all his savings for Lena's treatment costs.
"...Now that things have turned out this way, I have to pay rent and living expenses. I can't use all my savings on Lena anymore."
"In that case, how about continuing treatment on credit?"
I didn't suggest free treatment.
'Free treatment isn't recommended under counseling ethics.'
If no money was received, counselors would start viewing counseling not as "work that deserves proper compensation" but as "charity work."
Even if they tried not to, people inevitably ended up thinking that way.
And once it became charity rather than work, the counseling itself could become insincere.
It could even make it difficult for the counselor and client to maintain an equal relationship.
Because it would no longer be counseling conducted in exchange for payment, but rather "providing" counseling for free.
"No. I can't do something so rude."
Besides, Draksan wasn't the type to accept free treatment anyway.
Draksan, who had strongly refused even the offer of credit, smiled as he continued.
"Once I find work and start earning income, I'll come back with my daughter then."
"Have you been looking for work?"
"I've been looking into bodyguard work, but it's... well..."
I could understand why Draksan trailed off awkwardly.
The hunter industry wasn't particularly sensitive about criminal records and had less racial discrimination.
There was a strong perception that as long as you were strong enough to catch magical beasts, that was all that mattered.
On the other hand, even bodyguard work had much stronger racial discrimination.
Since both physical strength and self-control or situational judgment were important in that job, there were plenty of companies that wouldn't hire barbarians.
'Not to mention Draksan's medical history.'
To be honest, not many people would want to entrust their safety to someone with intermittent explosive disorder.
"Why don't you work here instead?"
"What?"
"We happen to need a security guard right now. As the number of clients has increased, it's become difficult for just Eris and me to maintain order. Clients waiting for counseling have been getting into fights more frequently too."
I made the offer to Draksan that I had been thinking about for a while.
"We're planning to expand inpatient treatment starting with Miss Lena Caligus, and we'll need someone to handle security there as well. We can offer generous pay. You won't have to worry about living expenses or treatment costs."
"But I..."
Draksan hesitated.
"As you know, my condition isn't completely cured yet. I'm not sure if it'll be okay..."
"I'll be here, and so will Eris. Even if intermittent explosive disorder symptoms appear, there won't be any problems."
If anything, staying at the counseling office might be safer for Draksan than other places.
"...When would I start?"
"You can start tomorrow."
"Thank you, Doctor. For this time, and the last time too..."
"You're not going to cry again, are you?"
"The Rock Hunter tribe doesn't... sniff... cry."
I was about to ask what I had seen last time but stopped myself.
'Somehow, it feels like his anger has decreased and his tears have increased...'
Anyway, the counseling office had gained a new employee.
* * *
Depression and anxiety, though they might not seem so at first glance, were deeply connected to anger.
Especially when depression and anxiety symptoms were severe, emotional regulation ability declined.
As a result, even if not to the level of intermittent explosive disorder, people could become unable to control their anger well.
What this all meant was—
"What are you looking at, you bastard!"
"What do you mean, looking? Why would I look at a dwarf bastard whose dick is so small it's invisible?"
"You son of a bitch, are you done talking—!"
The counseling office was a place where fights easily broke out.
Especially in this otherworldly counseling office, which was far more barbaric than in my previous life, fights were extremely common.
Until now, I had spent a lot of time just trying to stop fights.
There had even been times when I had to call in Public Security Bureau investigators.
Because of that, counseling sessions had been delayed.
But now, there was no need to worry.
It was all thanks to Draksan.
"You two. If you're going to keep making a scene, do it outside."
Most disturbances disappeared when Draksan said a single word.
"I'm not leaving! Why should I leave? If anyone's leaving, it should be that bastard!"
Of course, there were occasionally clients who didn't listen to Draksan either.
"If you're not leaving..."
Thud.
Draksan placed his hand on the shoulder of the client who was causing trouble.
"I'll throw you out by force. Listen while I'm still asking nicely."
"Eek, th-this...!"
"Are you going to listen?"
The client struggled, but he couldn't resist Draksan's strength.
Exhausted from his own resistance, the client sighed.
"F-fine. I'll stay quiet. Just..."
"You've calmed down, right?"
"Yeah, I've calmed down, so let go already! My shoulder hurts like hell!"
Listening to the conversation outside, I smiled.
'I'm glad I hired him.'
Just having Draksan around dramatically reduced fights and conflicts, and even when they did occur, Draksan could resolve them in seconds.
Thanks to him, I could focus on counseling without worrying about trivial matters.
"Now then."
I left the disturbance outside to Draksan and focused on the client in front of me.
"How have you been feeling lately?"
"The same as always."
I looked at Kasis, who answered with a dark expression.
The prophet of the Sun Church, also called the "Saintess" among the people.
"...I still can't tell what's a hallucination and what's a prophecy."
She was in a state where she had essentially lost her prophetic abilities because she couldn't distinguish between hallucinations and divine messages.