Chapter 27
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Pig Hunt (4)
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Instinct screamed at Shahal.
Run.
"D-Damn it!"
She had to vanish from sight before that mad dog got any closer.
'I've been circling around for over two hours, shaking off any trails!'
It didn't make sense.
She'd deliberately taken wide loops along busy roads with heavy traffic, leaving no clues worth following.
Even if there were any, her current appearance had nothing to do with the boy called "Sota."
Yet the werewolf was charging straight toward her, unerringly, in a direct line.
"Ruuun!!!"
Roaring like a beast starved for days.
"U-Ughhh!"
Shahal obeyed her primal fear and instincts.
She yanked the reins around and cracked the whip.
The carriage lurched violently, veering off the road.
-Thud!
"Huh? Kyaaah!"
"Move if you don't wanna get trampled!"
She barreled roughly onto a path crowded with people and charged ahead.
Slicing through the chaotic throng, she burst out of the main avenue and plunged into narrow alleys.
Even as the ferocious howls faded into the distance once more, she didn't stop.
After twisting through several corners, weaving a tangled path, she finally caught her breath.
"Hah... hah..."
The horses panted raggedly, mirroring her exhaustion.
This was an abandoned street, utterly devoid of people.
Far from the main road, reachable only through a web of tiny alleys.
The perfect temporary hideout.
"Th-This should be hard to find."
She wiped the sweat from her face as she spoke.
The surroundings were silent. Not even the sound of hooves.
"Good. Looks like I shook them off for now..."
If she stalled just a bit longer, the pursuers would blow past.
'Then I can double back and move in reverse.'
Shahal quickly started plotting her next escape route.
Even rattled for a moment, she was the Black Hand's sub-master.
She'd handled countless mishaps on missions—this one was salvageable.
Calming her nerves, she racked her brain.
'If the roads are blocked, I could take a ferry across the river... but that was under control earlier—'
Exactly three seconds later, a familiar sound echoed from afar.
"Ruuun!!!"
The mangy werewolf's howl exploded right around the corner behind her.
Shahal's face twisted in dismay.
"Argh, this is insane!"
Forget plans—she whipped the reins in a frenzy and fled again.
This was so unfair.
"How the hell does it know?! What's wrong with today?!"
Everything had gone smoothly until yesterday.
Up to now, it had all been perfect.
But ever since meeting that one immigration officer, everything went to hell.
All because of a man named Nathan Kell.
"I should've killed that bastard back then! That damn weakling of an inspector!"
Venting her rage, she drove the carriage even harder and burst out of the hideout.
The moment she veered right on the reins, Shahal's eyes widened.
"Gasp! St-Stop!"
-Screeech!!
She hauled back with all her might, and the carriage screeched to a barely halted stop.
A dead end.
No open path—just a tall wall blocking her way.
"Ha..."
It was beyond exasperating; it was absurd.
Had she ever had a day this cursed?
In one split-second lapse in judgment, Shahal stared despairingly at the towering wall.
Too late to back out.
Turning the carriage in such a narrow alley was impossible.
But she couldn't go forward either.
Not without abandoning the carriage.
"How did it know?"
She muttered in a hollow voice.
Then she recalled the mad werewolf's cry.
"...Run?"
Werewolves had insanely sharp noses.
And the scent of blood was thick and lingered forever.
"No way..."
Shahal whipped her head toward the inside of the carriage.
-Drip...
There, on the saintess-pig's body, were crusted dark red stains.
Blood that had splattered when she kicked that inspector earlier.
And blood from the saintess's wounds when her head smashed the wall.
"Damn it!!"
In her frantic escape, she'd overlooked erasing that final trace.
Failing to clean the most crucial clue made it inevitable that the nose followed it here.
"What an idiotic mistake!"
Self-loathing surged.
She'd done something even amateurs wouldn't.
As Shahal spat curses and reached to wipe the bloodstains—
"Wait. No."
An idea flashed through her mind.
"...It followed the blood scent, huh."
For an assassin, a crisis was never just a crisis.
It was opportunity, another escape route.
If they relied on the werewolf to track her, she could turn it against them.
Her gaze shifted to the pigs inside the carriage.
"Right... then I'll give it a bellyful."
-Shing.
Shahal drew a dagger from her bosom.
And slowly climbed into the carriage.
The pigs' screams echoed.
"Grrrrr!!!"
The Olfactory Officer charged without hesitation.
No second thoughts, no pauses—just ferocious forward momentum.
Watching his back as she gripped the reins, the Gustatory Officer said uneasily,
"Th-The Olfactory Officer suddenly seems like a wild beast. What if he loses his reason like some feral animal?"
I chuckled in response.
"It's fine. That's normal for werewolves."
Werewolves had a racial instinct: the hunting drive.
The compulsion to track a scent.
Even the most rational ones struggled to suppress it when it surged.
That's why they had the custom of howling under the full moon and devouring raw meat to vent it.
Right now, the Olfactory Officer was channeling that instinct fully to hunt the kidnapper.
"Grrrrr, left!"
Even at forks, his speed never slackened.
In tangled alleys, he'd sniff a few times and lock on instantly.
Reliable as hell.
We barreled past main streets into narrow back alleys, tearing through—
When the Olfactory Officer, charging blindly ahead, abruptly halted.
"Everyone stop! The werewolf stopped!"
"Stop!"
The cavalry and I barely reined in behind him.
"Grrrr..."
"What's wrong, Olfactory Officer? Scent gone?"
His confident expression shifted.
To bewilderment.
The Olfactory Officer slowly raised a hand, pointing to the corner beside him.
All eyes followed his finger to the right.
And at the utterly unexpected sight, everyone fell silent.
The right was a dead end.
A path the kidnapper would never choose.
So it should have been empty.
-Oink! Oink oink oink!
-Squeeeal! Squeeeal!
But there were 17 terror-stricken pigs scattering in all directions.
"What the...?"
The Gustatory Officer and I were too stunned to speak.
"Pigs! Pigs!"
"The one the inspector mentioned might be here! Catch 'em all!"
The soldiers snapped to first.
Several dismounted, grabbing the fleeing swine and shouting.
"Inspector, is this the strategic creature you meant?"
The soldier's question snapped me back.
"N-No. That's a male. Check underneath—it's got balls swinging!"
"This one?"
"Female, but too big! We're looking for a saintess... er, a piglet!"
More questions from the soldiers, but no sign of our saintess.
These were definitely the pigs from the carriage I'd seen.
I remembered: 17 excluding the saintess.
But something was off.
"Why are they wounded...?"
All 17 had fresh slash wounds across their bodies.
New cuts, judging by their pained oinks and frantic thrashing in fear.
And blood oozing from those wounds.
The moment I saw it, I realized what the kidnapper had done.
"That damned bastard figured out our tracking method!"
Only then did I notice.
The entire alley reeked with fishy blood, stinging my nose.
At the same time, a soldier who'd checked the dead end yelled,
"Abandoned carriage here!"
"Check inside! Any piglet!?"
A bad feeling crept in.
Having caught on, abandoning the carriage meant one thing.
Moments later, he held only severed chains, cut clean like with a blade.
"This is all."
"..."
Worst-case scenario.
The fiend had shaken even the Olfactory Officer's nose and boldly ditched the carriage.
'Dumps everything and flees with just the saintess.'
A gambler's desperate play.
And it worked.
Clutching at straws, I asked the Olfactory Officer,
"Can you track the scent more? We can't lose her now!"
He took deep breaths, gnashed his teeth, and shook his head.
"...Blood scents everywhere now. Sorry."
Hyper-sensitive noses backfired amid overwhelming odors.
And this alley was soaked in pig blood.
From 17 of them.
"Damn it..."
I shook off despair fast.
'No time to mope!'
We still had options.
"Fan out and search now! On foot, she couldn't have gone far!"
What does a fugitive do after shaking pursuers?
Break the encirclement.
"Split the troops—half secure the perimeter! The rest search with me!"
Now, we beat the kidnapper to the net and wait.
Our only play left.
"Let's go, Gustatory Officer! Olfactory Officer, you too!"
"Wh-Where to?"
"Someone who can disguise herself won't hide in some dark corner."
Hide a tree in a forest.
Where would a shapeshifter conceal herself?
Among people.
No more deserted spots now.
Carriage gone, no eyes drawn.
So, the most crowded place.
Where she could slip the count's territory.
One spot fit perfectly, closest by.
"To the Rakur Bridge!"
Nowhere else.
-Thundering hooves.
Twenty-five horses thundered after the lead Gustatory Officer.
"Faster, just a bit more!"
At my urging, she whipped the reins again.
"Hya!"
Time was critical.
The suspect could shapeshift.
If she exploited unbriefed areas, breaching the net was inevitable.
Plus, Rakur Bridge was always mobbed—easy to blend in.
"Faster!"
Landscapes blurred by as I glanced across the road.
Then, far off, something familiar flashed past.
"Hold—Gustatory Officer! Stop!"
"St-Stop!"
"Turn around! Back quick!"
On the opposite road to Rakur Bridge, someone in familiar garb walked.
Unmistakable even in the crowd.
I narrowed my eyes for a closer look.
And shouted in shock.
"That's... an immigration inspector's uniform!"
Identical to what the Gustatory Officer and I wore.
The figure clutched a large bag in one hand, striding briskly.
The Gustatory Officer, seeing it too, muttered in disbelief,
"B-But no other inspectors in the count's lands besides us..."
Not the tall Auditory or Tactile Officer.
Walk suggested male over female.
Not Olfactory—grey fur.
Not Gustatory—taller, and she's with me.
Weird.
No one I knew matched.
"Who the hell...?"
Then, sensing the gaze, the mystery inspector turned our way.
Our eyes met.
".....!!! "
Central Officer.
Nathan Kell.
Me, staring from across the road.
My purple eyes.
Carrying the pig's bag.
"...Found you."
"...Busted."
Me and me sprang into action simultaneously.