Chapter 18
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: The Unyielding People (1)
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Over the past three days, all I'd managed was three things.
First: Staying up all night wide-eyed.
Second: Eating and then getting indigestion.
Third: Sighing until the ground caved in.
'To be precise, I couldn't do anything else.'
Ever since I'd realized what I'd done, those were the only things I could manage.
And on the morning of the fourth day, I let out my 297th sigh in front of the main entrance to the Southern Border Immigration Control Office building.
"Haa..."
The heavy feeling still wouldn't lift.
Four days after the entry denial incident.
Not much had changed in my life as an immigration officer.
-Clang.
"Good morning, everyone."
What had changed was...
"The Central Officer is here!"
"A fair and just morning!"
"No exceptions at the border!"
...that every employee in the office now looked at me with excessively admiring eyes.
Usually, it was just the gaze you'd give a superior, but now respect practically dripped from their stares.
They didn't even look at me like that on payday.
And here we were, nine days without going home, stuck in overtime, yet everyone was moving briskly.
'Has our Immigration Control Office ever been this lively?'
The office atmosphere flowed in exact opposition to my mood.
They'd even changed their greetings among themselves.
"No exceptions at the border!"
"Oh, Central Officer! No exceptions at the border!"
Those lines flew at me from all directions.
"...Good to see you."
I didn't even have the energy to tell them to stop, so I just accepted it.
-There are no exceptions at the border.
The words I'd shouted like a declaration to the pilgrimage group—no, the crusade army.
'Why the hell are they using that as a greeting?'
Those words must have left a deep impression, because I heard them constantly.
I felt like I was dying because of it.
Pushing through countless cries of "No exceptions at the border," I slumped into my seat and let out sigh number 298.
"Haaa... what now..."
The crusade army's entry denial.
Rejecting even the Pope's proposal and upholding the rules—my choice.
It was utter madness.
Who in the world would refuse a plea from the head of the continent's largest church right to his face?
I didn't regret saying it.
Because when I eventually stood before the Visual Officer, at least I wouldn't feel ashamed.
But the impending backlash terrified me.
I still remembered the Pope's final words as he calmed the enraged crusade army.
-Don't worry, my knights. This too shall pass soon enough.
'This too shall pass.'
I knew exactly what—or who—that referred to, without him saying it.
The moment his proposal was rejected, the Pope hadn't spared me a glance. He'd just turned and left with Mohaim and the crusade army.
A refusal to even engage.
Diplomatically, it was close to the worst possible situation.
'Damn it, this is a clear blunder. If they hold me accountable, I can't escape.'
I worried about it for the thousandth time over the past three days.
Fidgeting idly with some paperwork that wasn't even there, the five senses officers approached me.
"Central Officer."
"If you all start with that dogshit greeting, I'll send you to retraining. Just so you know."
Please, not you too.
"No except—"
The Gustatory Officer, who'd just opened her mouth, froze solid.
"C-Cuuuugh... ehehe... Th-the weather's nice today, huh."
It was foggy outside.
Her effort was admirable, so I let it slide.
The Olfactory Officer spoke up.
"Have you gotten any rest?"
"I napped in the conference room, so I'm fine."
A lie. I hadn't slept a wink.
I felt like death.
Seeing me like that, the Olfactory Officer looked exasperated.
"...At least close your eyes for a bit. We'll handle the workload."
"What's this, Olfactory Officer? It doesn't suit you."
"You look like hell right now."
"Wh-what's wrong with how I look?"
The Tactile Officer fetched a mirror and held it out to me.
"Honestly, Central Officer... you look less like a person and more like a zombie."
There was a grotesque figure with a four-day beard growth and bloodshot eyes.
"Eugh."
I'd barely washed with water, so my hair was frizzy, and everything I'd eaten had come back up from indigestion, leaving me gaunt.
I shoved the mirror far away.
"I'm fine. No issues here."
Lie.
There were so many problems I felt crushed to death under them.
"I'm fine, so get back to your posts and—"
"You'll drop dead before the capital even responds."
The Auditory Officer's words hit right on target, silencing me.
"...Sorry. I've put you all in a tough spot."
"Yeah, pretty much. You're walking around looking like death warmed over."
Her tone made it sound like no big deal.
A surge of emotion hit me, and I snapped.
"Aren't you worried? About what's coming?"
They'd done nothing wrong.
Of course.
This whole mess was my unilateral decision.
No time or chance for them to stop me.
It wasn't their fault. Not one bit.
But the world wouldn't see it that way.
The five senses officers were my direct subordinates.
The word "direct" carried heavy weight.
If I rose, they rose with me.
If I fell, they fell too.
And right now, my very life hung in the balance.
They knew exactly what that meant.
The Olfactory Officer shrugged.
"Honestly, yeah, it's scary. No idea what's next."
The others chimed in.
"It's been four days; word must've reached the capital by now."
"It's over already."
"What a shitty boss we drew."
Each word cut sharp.
The Olfactory Officer spoke again.
"But that day... you didn't compromise, Central Officer. Unlike Gerard."
"...Olfactory Officer."
I stared at him in shock.
This man, uttering Gerard's name.
Before becoming my direct subordinate, he'd been Gerard's man.
He hadn't committed corruption himself, but he'd unwittingly gotten tangled in it—a tragic figure.
So he'd hated that name with a passion.
Yet here he was, smiling faintly at me.
"You were exemplary."
There was no joking in his expression.
The other five senses officers nodded from behind.
This felt strange.
Shouldn't they be blaming me right now?
I'd recklessly caused an unprecedented incident and dragged them into it.
But instead of worrying about the fallout, they were praising me.
Saying I'd done well.
This felt too strange.
Way too strange.
All I could say was...
"...Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Then, my direct aide approached from afar.
"Central Officer. Good morning."
To avoid an awkward silence stretching further, I turned and replied.
"Ah, good morning."
You were the first aide I'd seen today who didn't spout that damn greeting.
My direct one, as expected.
But he wasn't smiling like the others.
Instead, he held out a communication orb.
"...The Foreign Affairs Minister is calling."
It had arrived.
-I've heard the news.
The Minister's first words were blunt.
His expression wasn't.
-What the hell is that getup? You're the head honcho of the southern border, for crying out loud.
He started with criticizing my appearance.
He was right.
I'd done my best to spruce up before the audience, but I couldn't hide the exhaustion.
"I... got too caught up worrying about what comes next and neglected myself."
-If you were worried, you damn fool, why the hell did you—
The Minister, momentarily furious, took a deep breath.
-Just one question. Why'd you do it?
A short query.
-Why deny entry? At least give me a reason. Was it so grave you defied even my orders?
I'd braced for rebuke and blame, but his calm question gave me pause.
'Will he even believe me if I say it?'
That the group I thought was a pilgrimage was actually a crusade army.
Who'd believe such an absurd twist?
I'd questioned it repeatedly before concluding it myself.
And with that grave look on his face, who knew what info had already exchanged behind the scenes.
No choice.
I'd roll the dice.
"They weren't a pilgrimage group."
-What?
"The pilgrimage was a lie. It was an army transporting paladins and weapons for a holy war."
-But all those people?
"They were civilians gathered deliberately to hide the purpose. To justify the 1st Paladin Order escorting the 'pilgrimage.'"
I laid my cards on the table.
Revealed the truth without holding back.
His reaction far exceeded my expectations.
-That damn... no wonder the Queen threw such a fit about attending the council meeting.
"The Queen? Why would she get involved?"
-Didn't you know? She's a fanatic Holy Church devotee. The type who'd drop dead for the Pope.
He tsked mockingly.
-There was a state council meeting yesterday. Foreign Affairs head, Intelligence head, Immigration Control Director, Audit head, Interior Ministers—all there.
A lineup of dazzling heavyweights.
All holding key national positions.
The Minister pulled out an ornate letter.
-Your name came up. Along with a protest letter from the Holy Church.
Protest letter.
Seeing it, I realized what the Pope's words meant.
'He wants me erased from existence.'
-Insult to the Pope and Holy Church. Baseless denial of entry to a peaceful pilgrimage group.
The Minister tossed the letter aside.
-The Queen raged that you should be summarily executed on the spot.
"..."
The Pope and Queen's collusion.
An unbelievable story left me speechless.
-If it were true, you'd have been executed by Audit long ago. Got it?
"...Yes."
Overwhelming authority knows no justice.
Eliminate obstacles, claim benefits.
Those are the only laws.
And I was an obstacle.
In despair, I bowed my head.
But his next words made me look up.
-Then Haillin stepped in.
"What? Director Haillin did?"
Haillin Metaharasin.
Crossroad Kingdom Immigration Control Director.
The woman who'd hired me as an immigration officer.
-Stubborn woman. Didn't yield an inch in front of Audit head and the Queen, insisting you wouldn't do such a thing.
She'd defended me.
My chest ached.
She was still watching out for me.
-Thanks to her, instead of summary execution, they've set a trial at the capital once the pilgrimage matter wraps up.
Thank heavens—it wasn't the worst-case scenario I'd feared.
The five senses officers sighed in relief behind me.
But his words had a flaw.
"...Doesn't matter. It'll end in execution anyway. The Pope's word outweighs mine a hundredfold."
-Hah.
He scoffed at my mutter.
-Punishment for an immigration officer is execution. But only for clear blunders—irreversible major ones!
He pointed at me.
-Did you break any rules?
"No."
-Did you curse the Pope and pilgrimage in front of everyone?
"No."
-Did you base entry on personal bias over regulations?
"No."
The Minister slammed the desk.
-Then why the fuck are you moping like that!?
His booming voice echoed through the conference room.
The five senses officers paled at the Minister's fury—the first I'd seen.
-You idiot, did Haillin teach you to crumple when you did nothing wrong?
"M-Minister?"
-Those fanatic bastards shoving bribes in your face—that's the crime! And they're brazenly pinning it on you? Spit foam, have a fit! Scream injustice, thrash around, bite like you're gonna overturn everything!
His voice rose higher.
-If you denied entry strictly by the book, stand tall, you moron!
His insults grew harsher.
A thunderous command rang out.
-Don't you know there are people in this world who'd believe you!
The shock hit me like a bolt.
Perhaps from yelling too hard, the Minister coughed repeatedly through the small orb.
Once he'd caught his breath, he spoke.
-We'll handle this somehow. If we make it to trial and gather witnesses, we might even get a stay of execution.
"Minister, to go this far for me—"
-But... one thing we can't avoid.
Cutting me off, he produced an even more luxurious sealed document than the letter.
-In three days, a royal decree from His Majesty will arrive. Ordering entry for the pilgrimage group.
Royal decree.
The King's command itself.
An absolute, unrefusable truth.
-Couldn't stop this one. Blocking the Queen's will and your summary execution was achievement enough.
"But I—"
-Never imagined something like this. Queen attending council wasn't enough; now she's wielding the King's decree.
Not even bothering to hide his irritation, the Minister scowled.
-We're pulling every string to protect you, so for now, know that. Open the border when the decree arrives. Refuse that, and we're powerless.
"...Understood."
-What a shitty world. Religion meddling in state affairs.
A short curse, then he shook his head wearily.
-That's all.
The storm ended.
Or so I thought.
Still reeling, as I fumbled to end the call,
-...Nathan.
He called my name.
"Y-Yes?"
I panicked.
The Minister had never used my name once.
Always "Central Officer."
So this froze me solid.
I couldn't even guess why.
'Wh-what now?'
The Minister slowly removed his monocle.
Always frowning under it, a deep groove marked where it sat.
That mark symbolized his career and experience in state affairs.
Yet removing it before me.
I realized the man I saw wasn't the Foreign Affairs Minister—but Carton Grayson.
Meaning his next words weren't official.
Carton was silent for a long time, then spoke.
-Public servants, especially those holding sway, face endless temptations. Some offers you can't refuse.
His tone wasn't sharp like before.
Calm, almost a monologue.
-Unreasonable ones where refusal means death. Countless officials have bowed and compromised to them.
He paused.
His deep, wrinkled eyes fixed on me.
-Well done.
Short praise.
For the first time,
in the five years I'd known him,
pride flickered in Carton's eyes.
-Keep going straight. Don't bend.
Something welled up inside me.
All I could say was...
"...Thank you."
-Call ended.
The orb's light faded.
A long silence followed.
"..."
It's hot.
My chest burned fiercely.
Right.
I'd forgotten.
Why I became an immigration officer.
Why I don't compromise.
Why I don't bow to authority.
[Do you promise, henceforth as an immigration officer, to face the world and show your world to all who come here?]
I held back the surge.
Bit my lip, clenched my fist.
Crying in front of my subordinates would be pathetic.
Then, the Olfactory Officer approached.
"Central Officer."
He looked resolute, as if he'd made a decision.
After a pause, he said,
"You have to cry here."
What a lunatic.
Then the Gustatory Officer squeezed her eyes shut, raised a fist, and shouted.
"N-No exceptions at the border!"
All the aides far off joined in.
"""No exceptions at the border!!!"""
What lunatics.
"I told you not to say that."
I let out an involuntary chuckle.
Maybe because of it, the sighs stopped.
The anxiety that had crushed me for three days vanished.
In its place, something intense filled my heart.
I silently raised my fist.
"...Everyone."
I didn't know what it was yet.
"As you heard, I'm in a pretty dangerous spot. So... could you help me out?"
But they call it hope, usually.
The response was immediate.
With 96 fists.
"""Yes!!!"
My life, extended by mere days.
Three days until the King's decree arrived.
I needed to overturn the situation completely in that time.
Perfect evidence for trial. Or powerful allies on my side.
Something to counter the entire pilgrimage group and the Pope's villainy.
I had to find it within that window.
"Hmmm. Entry denied, huh..."
Meanwhile, in a rundown street of the Crossroad Kingdom, a woman peered at the posters plastered on a wall.
[Shock! Holy Church Pilgrimage Denied Entry!]
[Day 4 of Denial: Will the Border Reopen for the Pilgrimage?]
[Immigration Officers Refuse Comment...]
She scratched her head, looking troubled.
"This is gonna be a huge hassle. Contract says kidnap after passing through the north..."
But from the posters, the border might not reopen anytime soon for the pilgrimage.
"If it drags too long, the client said no more info."
After a moment's thought, she had a bright idea.
"Ah, right. Technically, it said don't kidnap inside the Crossroad Kingdom."
Meaning anywhere outside was fair game.
Her purple eyes slowly turned toward the southern border walls, beyond which the pilgrimage tents clustered.
"So outside the kingdom right now? Perfect."
Execute outside, pass through the kingdom with the target. No issue.
"Flawless."
Shahal, Black Hand sub-master, smirked.
No reason to hesitate.