Light (12)
As expected, a Director was still a Director.
Maybe holding a seat among the Association's upper bureaucracy came with some special ability. Or maybe it was nothing more than a sharp eye.
"Wow. How did you know it was me?"
"·····."
"Hm?"
"····You're the only one who looks at people with eyes like that."
What was supposed to be wrong with my eyes? Still, nothing clever enough to argue with came to mind.
"If even you recognized me, Director, then the Association President must have seen through me ages ago."
"Anyone who still remembers the days of the Great Massacre would have figured it out."
"Really? Fewer people notice me than you'd think."
The news coverage, the moment people started recognizing this face — all of it had begun the day I first met Erika in the factory district. Before that, no one who saw this girl thought Orly. Thanks to that, the reckless Awakened who came charging in made for excellent prey.
"Maybe you're just especially sharp, Director."
"Any hunter who can't read the internal mana levels of the being standing right in front of them is the strange one."
Internal mana.
So that was it.
I'd been worried about a stat drop after becoming a woman, but apparently nothing had changed. That was why he'd been answering so carefully, gauging my reaction.
"If I'd been suppressible, you would have already left your seat and then some. The fact that you're sitting still tells me you're right."
"······."
The Director's face twisted with anger. Looking at him like this, even the same expression somehow looked prettier on Erika.
He flung the man he'd been holding to the floor and dusted off his hands.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't make a face that scary."
"······What do you want."
I glanced around. Several hunters had drawn their weapons and trained them on me. Their expressions were nothing short of vicious, and tension sat plain on their faces.
Fair enough. If you'd set foot in the hunter profession, you ought to be ready for at least this much.
"I'd rather not have this conversation here."
"······."
"Director — would you want to sit quietly and open your mouth like a good little girl while people thrash around trying to take your head off on the spot?"
As if they could even kill me. Unless they could shred my limbs and heart so thoroughly that regeneration became impossible, the whole thing was pointless.
"Somewhere quiet. Somewhere out of the way. Somewhere we can put a cigarette and a slice of cake in our mouths at the same time. Conversation after that."
I understood my own position perfectly well — but I couldn't keep personal feelings out of it when it came to the Association.
The Director bit down on his lip. It looked like it hurt.
The place he led me to was an outdoor space with a view. Not the rooftop — more like a rest area set aside on the top floor. Glass walls framed both sides, flowers and plants arranged in one corner to mimic a small garden, and the floor looked as though artificial turf had been laid down.
Not bad. Nice atmosphere. And above all, quiet.
"How did you know I like chocolate cake?"
On a table hastily thrown together from mana stones sat a small slice of cake, the kind convenient enough to eat like a dessert.
"·····Why did you spare Erika?"
"I tried to kill her. Circumstances didn't allow it."
I couldn't kill more than three people a day, after all.
"Ah — are you a Ranker, by any chance?"
"I am."
"Gates have been rough lately, yeah."
Rough enough that even Rankers and high-tier Awakened were needed.
"So I thought I'd offer a little help."
"······Help?"
"Gates aren't the only problem right now, are they?"
His expression filled with suspicion, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing out of nowhere.
I scooped up a generous bite of cake with the tiny dessert spoon. It was good. An iced Americano would have made it perfect.
"Criminal organizations. They seem to be plotting something lately. I figured you'd know, Director — Gyeonggi falls under your jurisdiction."
"······I suppose I would. What of it?"
"I'll."
I shaped my hand into a gun.
"Bang bang."
No — I didn't really use guns. A knife, then?
"Slash slash."
I waved the spoon through the air this way and that.
"I'll go take care of it."
"······."
Embarrassment washed over me for a moment. I swallowed it down and smiled sweetly instead.
"Turning into a woman and finding that gestures like this don't feel out of place at all is… a rather strange feeling."
"······What are you scheming."
The Director glared at me. Crimson light flooded his pupils until they went black.
"Wow. You don't trust me?"
"······."
"Well, of course you wouldn't. Even I can see I'm a crazy bitch. Back during the Spirit Realm purges alone — hundreds of humans slaughtered, major terror attacks on Association headquarters and branch offices, standoffs with government agents lasting dozens of days, hostage situations…"
I set the spoon down on the plate.
"But I've never once told a lie. Not in front of you righteous Association people, at least."
"So in short, you're saying you'll wipe out the criminal organizations clean and come back. And you want me to believe that?"
"Exactly!"
His already harsh face began to twist into a deeper scowl. Put that way, it was a good opportunity from the Director's perspective too — a top-tier Ranker volunteering to single-handedly smash a pack of criminals whose schemes no one could predict. In a world already crawling with Gates, no less.
But it also came with enormous risk.
"I've been running low on nutrients. I need high-quality blood. Ordinary good citizens just don't fill me up. Ah — of course I can't go around killing people recklessly!"
"·····."
"So the method I came up with is wiping out criminal organizations. The bad guys who disrupt law and order should be removed from society, right? Right?"
His face grew even more complicated. I found myself wondering just how far his expression management could fall apart.
"So I'd like to negotiate. It's simple. Just help with the investigation. Hideouts, bases of operations — that sort of thing."
Running low on nutrients. High-quality blood. Removed from society.
Well — all of it was a lie, of course.
I had plenty of blood, and whether criminals ran wild through society was none of my business. But I could hardly sit in front of the Director and say, I need the blood of corpses for when I use them. He'd be suspicious immediately.
So putting him at a crossroads was my ultimatum. Accept my proposal and ease the burden of maintaining the city's security — or refuse here and make an enemy of me.
What the second path actually led to, even I didn't know. From the Director's perspective, at least. Who was to say I wouldn't suddenly pull a knife and announce that he'd have to die right here?
"Still, suddenly inserting me into existing plans could cause its own problems. Folding a currently wanted top-tier Ranker into the team for a criminal organization crackdown… the image alone is an issue. I'd push back if I were them."
I scraped the chair back and stood from the table.
"Well. Take your time thinking it over. I hope for a good outco—"
"······Erika."
"Yes?"
The Director rested both hands on the table and laced his fingers together.
"Originally, the criminal organization side was Erika's domain. The field teams, the operations, the combat — she oversaw all of it."
The crimson light turned toward me.
"Her direct superior isn't me. It's the Association President. She was transferred down from headquarters to a branch, so the departments are different — my will and judgment carry almost no weight. I can only provide personnel and resources."
So he wasn't standing at a crossroads at all. He was saying he'd been off the road from the start.
"What. If you have no influence, then what am I supposed to do? I came all this way for nothing."
If what he said was true, I could understand his position. Just managing the inner and outer regions of Gyeonggi under the title of Director was already overwhelming. And then headquarters sends down a Ranker? Whoever that person was, he would have handed the work over without a second thought.
"So·····. This has nothing to do with you. Talk to Erika·····. Is that what you're saying?"
"That's right."
Back to square one. A complete waste of a trip. Whether his words were true or not, he had no intention of showing his hand.
No intention of helping. No intention of refusing to help, either.
Had I come all the way here just for a single slice of chocolate cake?
I pulled a pack of cigarettes from my coat. Sparked a flame in the air and held a cigarette to it. Thin smoke curled upward, and a harsh scent stung my nose.
The cigarette tasted bitter today. Or had it always been bitter? I didn't smoke often enough to know.
Since he'd already driven the nail in that this had nothing to do with him, asking for the Director's personal opinion wouldn't get me anywhere either·····.
"Mind if I ask one thing?"
"Of course. Go ahead."
"What wind blew you this way?"
I glanced around. Faint, but I could see a barrier had been raised.
"You — the kind of person who'd thrash a few hunters, drag them here, and attempt intimidation dressed up as negotiation — sitting quietly for a conversation over cake and a cigarette."
"When you put it like that, I really was garbage, huh."
There'd been no other way. A year ago, everything in sight had been prey, a source of blood. From the position of fighting the Association's and the government's hunting dogs day after day, I'd needed a sharper knife.
Was it still like that now?
I wanted to brainwash myself. To believe it wasn't.
"Just… you know."
I dropped the cigarette and crushed it underfoot. Artificial turf — different material — so at least the floor didn't turn into a sea of fire.
"I wanted an iced Americano that tasted good."
The Director said nothing.
"I chewed ice instead of people."
I'd tried. The results had been modest. The ice shattered, but the shards just sank into the coffee.
"Ah — want a cigarette, Director?"
"I don't need one."
"I wasn't going to give you one anyway. My cigarettes are precious."
Wow. That icy stare and blank face.
Scary.