Chapter 45
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: Came to Make a Deal (1)
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"Two days..."
I couldn't help but frown.
Time's too short.
An execution just forty-eight hours from now.
Even with interrogation rights, I have no idea how much I can get out of her.
As an immigration officer, I knew the basics of interrogation.
Enough to suss out origins and spot lies through conversation.
But professionally extracting information? That wasn't my domain.
That was the intelligence bureau's specialty.
Interrogating a vicious criminal like a shapeshifter was more than the Immigration Control Office could handle alone.
Especially with a time limit.
Teaming up with another agency was the best bet.
But even if I request cooperation from the intelligence bureau right now, it'd take a full day for an agent to arrive...
Even giving them the benefit of the doubt and assuming they came by express carriage, it'd still eat up a ton of time.
I finished my thoughts and spoke to the soldier.
"Understood. I'll discuss the details with the margrave."
"Yes, sir. I'll take my leave then."
The moment he left the Immigration Control Office, I had my attendant activate the crystal orb.
"Yeees. Reyes Margrave residence speaking. How may I help youuu?"
The image that appeared was his direct secretary, still with that drawling voice.
I cleared my throat softly and spoke in a low tone.
"This is Central Officer Nathan Kell."
"Y-yes?!"
She jumped at the name.
Remembering my bloodied face from the pig hunt operation, the secretary practically had a fit as she cried out.
"C-C-C-Central Officer!?"
The effect of a picture being worth a thousand words really lasted.
"Is the margrave in his office? If so—"
"I-I'm connecting you right now!"
And just like that, an express audience with Reyes Margrave was arranged.
Less than a minute later, the sturdy, familiar face of a middle-aged man appeared.
"Margrave Reyes. I apologize for the urgent summons."
- Central Officer. First time seeing you since that day. Your face has healed nicely.
"Yes. Thanks to your assistance, it was handled perfectly."
After a brief exchange of formalities, I got to the point.
"To be direct: could you postpone the shapeshifter's execution?"
- ...So you've finally received my message.
"I'm truly grateful for granting me interrogation rights, but she holds critically important information. Two days is far too tight to complete the interrogation."
I couldn't forget: the shapeshifter wasn't caught at the border—she was arrested in the margrave's own territory.
Interrogating a criminal captured within one's domain was the lord's full prerogative.
Handing that over was a huge favor.
But did he really need to decide the fate of a prisoner he'd already caught on such a rushed timeline?
At least a day or two delay should be feasible.
I spoke in a polite tone.
"I earnestly request you delay the execution."
But the margrave's response was firm.
- That's not possible.
"Pardon?"
- Her crimes are far too grave.
Reyes grimaced uncomfortably.
- Smuggling strategic biological weapons, assaulting and fleeing from an immigration officer, border terrorism, stirring chaos in the territory, property damage, impersonating a public official.
The charges poured out without pause.
Each one a serious crime.
Vicious offenses that warranted summary execution without issue.
She would die for certain.
But if she was going to be executed anyway, the best move was to squeeze every bit of information out first.
So why was Reyes refusing?
- Of course, as you say, delaying the schedule is possible. But keeping a serious criminal alive too long—what message do you think that sends to the territory's people and visitors?
That hit me like a brick. I understood why he was rejecting the delay request.
"...You want to make an example of her."
- Exactly.
The margrave nodded.
- We must demonstrate respect for the law and harsh punishment. Crimes at the border or in my territory are crimes against the nation—and challenges to the margrave himself.
To a lord, a territory wasn't just land.
It encompassed the people living there generation after generation, the laws and rules controlling them, and finally, the lord upholding it all.
That was the territory in full.
A super-high-profile disturbance like this in his own domain, and letting a serious criminal slide? That would signal neglect of the territory itself.
- It's already been five days since capture, and some residents witnessed it. If we just keep her locked up without punishment, what will they think?
It could breed contempt for the margrave's name and the territory's laws.
In this world, reputation and visible actions defined everything.
That was precisely what he was worried about.
And five days already...
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I wasted three days in the capital, so that's three days lost here.
It meant interrogation rights had been mine for days, but I couldn't use them while stuck in the capital.
No helping it, but the window for interrogation had burned away regardless.
Clutching at straws, I asked.
"S-still, there must be some way?"
- There is one. If she fully confesses her backers, I'll delay the execution.
In other words, make her confess.
If the shapeshifter spilled everything, that alone would save the margrave's face to some degree.
Finally, he added curtly.
- Instead, we'll execute at sunset, not morning.
That was probably the maximum concession he could offer.
"Thank you for understanding. I'll visit shortly."
With that, the crystal orb went dark.
I stood up immediately.
No time to hesitate.
I need to go right now.
Every minute, every second counted.
Let's think.
Before heading out, what did I need for interrogating a vicious criminal?
From what I knew, interrogation required strong psychological pressure and a threatening atmosphere.
Which means going alone isn't smart.
Especially for me, with my history of getting beaten once already—I'd pose zero threat.
I glanced around.
What could intimidate a shapeshifter?
That's when I spotted two people focused on their work.
"Olfactory Officer."
The werewolf looked up.
"Yes?"
Perfect.
Someone who'd directly clashed with her and made her lose would definitely instill pressure.
Plus, his large build and menacing vibe fit the bill.
Werewolves were once called a grotesque mix of savagery and reason, even if that image had faded.
Next, my gaze shifted to the woman handling eight paperwork stacks and immigration processes at once.
"Tactile Officer."
"Yees?"
A tentacle raised its hand with a soft voice.
Maybe speciesist, but land-dwellers instinctively felt unease around ocean-based races.
And she was a quarter kraken.
Bearing thick blood of a massive sea beast.
Her body made of utterly alien tentacles was perfect for primal fear.
If things go south, just have her drop human form.
That shape I'd glimpsed once—even I nearly fainted. It'd work for sure.
Excellent.
I spoke to them both.
"Field assignment. Follow me."
- Knock, knock.
In the silent underground dungeon, the sound of dripping water echoed rhythmically.
"Ugh... haa..."
Beyond the rusted iron bars, a woman with purple eyes let out a pained sigh.
Her arms were shackled and hoisted high overhead, her body a mangled wreck from whippings and beatings.
"How... many times do I have to say it?"
Shahal spat blood-mixed saliva at the man before her.
"Go fuck yourself, you worthless shit."
Her vulgar curse left the guard in front of her gasping.
"Tough bitch..."
Five days straight.
This heinous criminal had endured brutal torture for five days, responding only with curses and mockery.
The guard wielding the whip tired out first, and she hadn't screamed once in rage.
Struggling not to be cowed, the guard said,
"You're dying in two days anyway. You know that?"
"..."
"Just tell us your backers before then. I'll ask the margrave to make it quick."
A threat using death itself.
But Shahal just tilted her head mockingly.
"Ha, who knows? Will it really be me getting executed?"
Then slowly, she chewed on something in her mouth.
"What are you—"
- Crunch, crack.
Her face twisted grotesquely with sickening sounds.
Moments later, Shahal transformed into an exact copy of the guard and grinned.
"Your head on the block? The kids would love that. Right?"
"Y-you crazy bitch, how?!"
"You'd be shocked how much hair falls off a human body. Floor's covered in yours."
Her cackling laughter echoed.
"You're no threat to me. Worry about your hair, baldy guard."
Physically restrained? That was Shahal.
Injured and doomed? Shahal.
But the one feeling pressure was the guard.
"Maybe the one executed that day won't be me... it'll be you."
The threat reversed.
Shahal rattled her arm chains menacingly.
The clanging metal snarled like a beast, shattering the silence.
"The day I break free, you're first on my list."
"M-monster freak..."
The guard, terrified first, spat curses and fled.
- Thud, thud.
She shouted after his retreating footsteps.
"Watch your hair. Someone might eat it and turn into you."
No reply came.
The underground dungeon sank into silence.
Then.
- Squeak, squeak.
A tiny rat pup slipped out from a hole in the wall.
"Hello, you're back."
Shahal called to it softly.
Over the past five days, she'd tamed it with her leftover food scraps.
Now fully trusting, it rubbed against her foot.
Shahal slowly lifted her foot.
And slammed down.
- Squelch.
The rat's body crushed gruesomely under her foot with a chilling sound.
She plucked its fur, hiding it between her toes.
Eat that, and she could transform into the rat she'd just killed.
They still didn't grasp a changeling's true nature.
The ability to shapeshift into anything with fur—not just people.
Exploit that blind spot, turn into a rat, and chains and bars couldn't hold her.
"Two days left, huh..."
Shahal gazed quietly at the rusted bars.
Then dawn today it is.
Escape this place.
Then execute the plan again.
The saintess kidnapping wasn't over.
I have to uncover at least the info Haten Silla promised.
Weeks ago, she'd made a deal with a woman from the so-called Evil God Cult.
A deal big enough to break Black Hand's iron rule: No entanglements with king-level figures.
The condition: kidnap the Holy Church's saintess.
In exchange, one piece of information.
- Your kind, changelings—they desperately seek their own, right? I know where another one is.
About her fellow kin.
Changelings were an exceedingly rare race.
Always disguised as others, impossible to recognize each other. Reveal yourself, and you'd be branded a monster and killed.
Thus, changelings had always suffered racial loneliness.
The burning desire to find others sharing their fate.
Shahal had craved info on her kind since childhood, driven by that longing.
Joining Black Hand was partly to access such intel.
Escape here, and I start over from scratch.
The mission wasn't done.
Turn into a rat, slip away, infiltrate the pilgrimage group again.
Of course, first she'd slaughter the guards and jailers who left her body in ruins.
"Pay back three times what I got."
Black Hand style.
Debts repaid threefold.
That much, she'd see through.
"Especially that bastard."
And among them, one man topped her revenge list.
The one who'd ruined her mission entirely.
"That damn guy..."
She scowled, picturing the black-eyed youth.
Lost in thoughts of how to deal with him,
"Greetings. We've been granted interrogation rights. Where is she?"
"Th-this way, sir. Be careful. Hands are bound, but she's extremely feral."
"Yes. We know."
A familiar voice drifted from afar.
Calm, businesslike male voice.
- Thud, thud.
Footsteps drawing nearer.
And,
- Creeeak.
The rusted iron bars opened with an ominous groan.
"You..."
"Greetings, shapeshifter."
The face she least wanted to see—and most wanted to destroy.
She spat it out.
"Central Officer..."
Black eyes met purple, each harboring different goals.
Forty-two hours left.
The interrogation began.