No Problem
"Haa, what am I going to do..."
Monday found me deep in thought, scribbling lines through the paperwork in front of me.
"Could there be a new suspect? Do I have to infiltrate again? Fine — I hold a Master's in Cactus-Spine Evasion Studies, so I can get in anywhere!"
Twitching with nerves, I went back over the list of candidates I'd compiled.
Since Luna Moore had sworn that she genuinely didn't leak anything, she was a complete exception. But had I missed something with the remaining two candidates?
"Park Guard... Should I have asked which park his son works at?"
"Park Guard, you say?"
An unexpected voice cut into my muttering.
It was Assistant Manager Morian, who until now had kept his head bowed, absorbed entirely in his assigned work. He'd barely exchanged a word with us this whole time, too busy focusing on his own tasks — so what was this?
"Yes. Park Guard."
"Forgive me, but may I ask one thing. Did you... think that meant a park security guard?"
"Er... there's a foreign word mixed in there, but yes?"
"That is incorrect."
Morian pushed up his glasses with one finger.
"A park guard is a homeless person."
"...Pardon?"
"What was the situation, exactly?"
"Well..."
When I gave him a rough rundown of the circumstances, Morian nodded as though it all made perfect sense.
"He simply couldn't stand the sight of what his own son was getting up to, so he threw him out of the house. But he was too shy to admit he'd kicked the boy out, so he called it being a park guard."
"..."
Absurd as it was, my trust in Morian ticked up a notch. Maybe he'd turn out to be surprisingly useful after all?
"Assistant Manager Morian, then — can you identify the culprit?"
"Hmm..."
Morian tilted his head as he read the final section of the documents I'd organized.
"They say Viscount Hyacinth has been in and out of the Mage Tower constantly, angling for the post of Minister of Military Affairs."
"Yes."
"In my judgment, Viscount Hyacinth is the culprit."
"Why?"
"Look at the title of the leaked thesis that you, Guild Master, wrote down."
A Study on the Preservation Paradigm of Defensive Assets Through a Non-Linear Moat-Based Threat Mitigation System
"I have absolutely no idea what any of that means?"
"It appears to mean, quite simply, 'use a moat when you fight.'"
"..."
"In conclusion, it is a paper pertaining to military matters."
"Then why would Viscount Hyacinth..."
"If a paper concerning national defense leaks from the Veneti Empire into the Kingdom of Norian, one naturally comes to think that a spy must be extracting military secrets for Norian. Vigilance over military strength will grow strong, and it seems he intends to exploit that opening."
"Ah...! Right. My investigation did show that Viscount Hyacinth majored in military science."
That gave me a decent grasp of the picture. Dig a little deeper into Hyacinth and we'd know for certain.
"Thank you, Morian."
"No problem."
"Hmm..."
I stole a glance at Morian's back.
This time I truly had expected nothing, and yet — Morian, for all his bluster and packaging, might actually be a competent employee. I'd keep watching him a little longer, then make him fully one of ours.
"Mr. Ratel — our investigation is complete. The culprit is Viscount Hyacinth."
A few days later, when Ratel came by again, Cedrian and I sat together and handed him the dossier of additional evidence we'd gathered.
"Manufacturing danger just so he could leap into politics! How unjust!"
Learning the truth, Cedrian looked shocked enough to be genuinely furious. When you watched him closely, he really did love justice.
"So it really is them..."
Ratel's eyes went wide as he read through our evidence.
"Yes. That resolves the commission."
"Thank you. I need to hurry and—"
"Just a moment!"
I grabbed Ratel before he could leave.
"You'll need to pay before you go."
This was a matter of the utmost importance. Half the fee had been collected as a deposit, but the other half was due on completion.
Ratel, apparently having forgotten entirely, rummaged through his pockets — and his face collapsed into open despair.
"...I don't have it."
"Pardon?"
No. Absolutely not. I could not let them squeeze a single coin out of me! Ah — no, wait. Still, he's a man of the Tower of the Stars. Surely he'd come back and pay properly?
"Then if you could return later with the payment..."
"That alone will not suffice."
At that point Cedrian, seated beside us, spoke up in a voice gone strangely resolute.
"Receiving just compensation for one's labor is a matter of great importance. You must pay with interest included."
Oh, Cedrian. As if a mere few days would accrue interest — but refusing to take a loss is exactly what I'd expect from one of my guild members. That money-obsessed streak of his suits us. I approve.
"I don't have it on me right now, so..."
Instead, Ratel fished something out of his coat. It was a ring, crude in design.
"I'll come back with the money, so take this in the meantime..."
"What is this?"
"A one-time Appearance Alteration Ring."
"An Appearance Alteration Ring?"
The very item the original heroine, Lady Caliard, had used — the one I'd investigated during the crown prince's commission!
As far as I knew, these 'items' that occasionally surfaced in the empire were physical proof of the Grand Priest's miracles.
There was no such thing as magic in this world — but there were abilities instead. When the Grand Priest deigned to display a miracle now and then, he would store that power inside an item, and those items, I'd heard, traded at staggering prices.
Ordinary people supposedly never even got to lay eyes on one. And here I'd gotten my hands on such a fine thing!
"But don't appearance-alteration items have to be formally recorded whenever they change hands?"
Private transaction or not, keeping a record of the owner mattered — because these were items strictly controlled on the grounds that they could throw the empire into chaos.
"Ah, that's because it's one-time use... The duration is short, too, so it's technically defective..."
"So you're telling me it's a cheap disposable that doesn't require documentation."
I gladly accepted Ratel's gift.
"So wearing this actually changes your appearance?"
"It's preset to change automatically... put it on and your eyes turn brown..."
"It really is an incredible item!"
"They come as bracelets and watches too, all sorts of forms, but this was the only one I had..."
At that, Cedrian's face turned subtly odd. Did he think the item wouldn't fetch any money? I reassured him:
"It's fine — it's made of gold, after all, so selling it would fetch something. Or we could put it to use in the guild's intelligence work."
"I suppose so. Haha."
Why was he wearing that uncharacteristic, plastered-on smile?
Anyway, I looked up at Ratel with shining eyes.
"By the way — is there a reason the automatic color is brown?"
"Yeah, that one's the most popular..."
"Why?"
"Brown draws the least attention..."
"Fair point, actually."
Cedrian flinched in his seat once more. His own eyes are brown, too — maybe that stung a little? But Ratel was right: brown is the ideal color for anyone disguising themselves as a background extra.
"I had no idea items like this even existed. Thank you!"
"The thanks are all mine..."
After Ratel left, I gazed down at the ring, delight bubbling in my chest.
"Guild Master, what do you intend to do with that ring?"
"If we're truly desperate for funds I'll sell it, but I suspect it'll be far more useful than that. For infiltration — slipping in somewhere to gather information. Wouldn't it be perfect for that?"
"Yes..."
Something occurred to me, and I tossed out a light joke.
"Haha, or here's one — I wear this ring while working overtime, and when the government sends auditors out over unpaid overtime allowances, we each insist we're two different people. Might even get used to make people work overtime and pay them less for it."
"..."
Cedrian's expression turned deadly serious. Oh no. Come to think of it, the guild master here is me. Unlike back when I was a lowly rank-and-file employee, apparently that was not an appropriate joke for a guild master to make.
"Th-that was just a joke! It's one-time use anyway, remember?"
"..."
"Could you stop looking at me like you suspect something...?"