Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: 2. Blue Moon
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Blue Moon. Currently, there are eight members, but the number swells or shrinks at any moment.
This stems from the nature of the organization. Their true goal is rebellion, but to the outside world, they're known as a criminal syndicate.
It's rare, but occasionally some members get caught, killed, or thrown in prison.
"...So. The Sword Saint is in Firendel right now?"
"That's right. I don't know what their circumstances are. But it's certain they have business here in Firendel."
Ludwig tapped the table with his index finger.
"Good intel. Thanks. Without you, things might've gone sideways."
"Hold on, Ludwig. Gone sideways? Wasn't today just a regular meeting?"
"You mean this operation's success or failure hinges on the Sword Saint's presence?"
Ludwig nodded.
"I called this emergency meeting because an auction is happening here in Firendel. We're planning to steal an item up for bid."
"Then... the Sword Saint coming to Firendel..."
"Yeah. Probably for the auction house. Given how sudden this auction was, they needed solid reinforcements. That turned out to be the Sword Saint."
'Not because of me? Hmm.'
A bit unexpected. I'd assumed it was entirely because of me.
No matter how I thought about it, it didn't seem like Arbelia von Carmilla was guarding the auction for personal gain.
Clearly, some tangled interests were at play.
"So? What's the item we're stealing?"
"A book. More precisely, a black grimoire. That's what we're after."
"...Why?"
"To summon a demon. What we do with it after... I'll explain later."
There were certainly those who'd joined Blue Moon for money, but most were in it for the rebellion itself.
Their trust in Ludwig ran deep.
Having Ludwig lose all his limbs and fall into despair was one of the scenarios I'd planned.
"Fine. All good. Sounds great. So when do we start?"
"The auction's in one day. We'll infiltrate as participants and set the stage. I'll explain the plan now."
The meeting wrapped up.
The basic outline was this: infiltrate the auction house, neutralize the security systems, and snatch the black grimoire.
With members like these, no need to sync up beforehand.
'Blue Moon might be my toys, but they're not weaklings.'
I might've sounded dismissive, but Blue Moon's members were no slouches—they were all big names in the Empire.
It's not like the Empire couldn't catch them easily for no reason.
"That's it, then. Benches, don't be late this time."
"Got it. I'm serious this time."
"That's what you say every time, and then you're late. How many days is 'late' anyway?"
The attendees filed out one by one, some dragging along female servers into lavish rooms.
I figured it was time for me to head out too. That's when someone laid a hand on my shoulder.
Turning around, there stood a man with his hair slicked back.
"Benches. I need to talk to you."
Marcelo, one of Blue Moon's members.
"...What?"
"Not good here. Let's talk somewhere else."
I followed Marcelo into a deserted alley.
No eavesdroppers here. You could kill someone, and not a peep would leak out.
"I'll be direct. What's your goal now?"
"...?"
"We formed Blue Moon to topple the corrupt Empire and build a new utopia. Me, Ludwig—none of us have ever forgotten that."
Marcelo's face held a hint of sorrow as he spoke.
His eyes wandered uncertainly, lacking conviction even in his own words.
"...You. You haven't forgotten either. Right?"
'Asking me this now... He must've decided we can't pull off a rebellion anymore.'
The Empire wasn't so frail that a mere criminal outfit could shake it.
Marcelo had spent ten years in Blue Moon, feeling that truth in his bones.
'In a way, it's obvious. Who built and prospered it, after all.'
Pushing aside my thoughts, I channeled Benches' mindset.
"...Yeah. It was. To overthrow this damned Empire and build a new paradise. Yeah. I still haven't forgotten."
"..."
"But you know it too, don't you? No, you have to. We're going to fail."
Marcelo's eyes widened. He was starting to grasp what I meant.
"You, don't tell me... Azrael—"
"You know it too, Marcelo. That we're doomed to fail. The moment Ludwig decided to summon a demon, he knew it."
Marcelo twisted his face in fury.
"Shut up."
"Forgot why we made this group? Yeah, we didn't forget. But you know that's all it is—"
"I said shut up!"
My jaw took a punch laced with mana. My head snapped back.
I tumbled into a nearby trash heap, my head soaking in filthy water.
"One more word, and I'll kill you."
I glanced up to gauge Marcelo's expression.
Furious yet uncertain.
Reveling in that look would keep me entertained for a while.
'As I suspected, Marcelo's grown deeply disillusioned with Blue Moon's activities.'
Now he'd realize it: their rebellion was doomed, and they'd all die.
What a motley crew.
'Should I shake him more? Bring up our dead friend?'
"Azrael, Azrael... We never should've dragged her in..."
Marcelo, unable to contain his rage, lunged at me.
He grabbed my collar and reared back his fist.
Just before slamming it down, he came to his senses.
"Fuck off. Don't ever show your face in front of me again."
I watched Marcelo's retreating back. Today, his broad shoulders looked especially forlorn.
Joy surged within me. This was fun!
'Nothing beats watching a man of conviction crumble.'
At this rate, Blue Moon would fracture. But fracturing them isn't my goal.
I want to shatter Ludwig mentally, corrupt him completely.
For that, I need to kill Marcelo at the auction house.
'Hard to find toys like this anywhere. Such a shame.'
A terrorist who kills without hesitation fretting over something so trivial—pure black comedy.
Right after his confrontation with Benches, Marcelo sought out Ludwig.
Ludwig sat quietly in a windowless chamber, reading a book.
The only light came from candles.
"What is it... Marcelo."
"Rudi. I need to talk to you."
Marcelo sat in the chair opposite Ludwig.
"We've come a long way. Far enough that I don't even miss the hometown we left behind."
They'd left home, honed their skills, and founded the group with four people.
For paradise, they'd killed, committed crimes, chased grand ideals.
"...Yeah. We have."
Those were joyful times. Fulfilling days.
Even if he could go back, Marcelo would make the same choices.
But—
"I'm leaving Blue Moon after this job."
"...!"
Ten years was plenty long enough to reshape a man's values.
Grand causes and ideals.
Being swayed by empty glory was but a fleeting phase.
Marcelo was no longer the type to discard something for the sake of moving forward.
"Benches still hasn't let go of Azrael's death. He said we never should've brought her in."
Azrael had been Marcelo's friend.
One of the only four friends from their trash-heap hometown.
Frail by nature, she'd died carrying out the organization's tasks—death unbecoming of her.
"...Hate to admit it. But yeah, maybe I've thought the same. Rudi, tell me. We started Blue Moon for a better world, right?"
"Yeah. For a better world. One where no one exploits anyone."
The vow sworn atop the garbage heaps still lingered.
Bloodied and faded, Ludwig had thrashed to hold onto that one thing.
"But... why do I feel like it was all just self-satisfaction? If we hadn't dragged Azrael in, she could've lived happily attending the academy."
Ludwig fell silent, offering no reply.
Marcelo didn't need one either.
Just like their actions, this exchange was mere self-indulgence.
"The auction house. After that, I'm out. Just so you know."
"So, what'll you do after? Live where?"
"...Dunno. Probably go back home with Benches, teach kids or something."
"Benches is leaving too?"
"Yeah. Seems like it. If things get tough, come join us. We'll be at the hometown."
As Marcelo turned to leave, he glanced back.
He couldn't read his bowed friend's expression.
"...I'll be waiting. Come back anytime if it's too much."