What Supports the Organization
What Supports the Organization
Moisture welled in Theobald's eyes.
He had come to this place with firm resolve, but the fact that he could not achieve the great cause was bitter and sorrowful.
Moreover, a creeping terror was welling up inside him—the fear that the moment he uttered a single wrong word, he would die.
'And besides...'
The person who was supposed to be here was absent.
As he diligently scanned the room with a strange sense of dissonance, Theobald soon realized what it was.
'I don't see them.'
Denders and Contim, who had left the textile factory with him after swearing themselves to the great cause, were nowhere to be seen.
Before the operation began, Theobald had given the order to split up in case of pursuit and regroup at Daniel Steiner's location.
Surprise attack or not, if they were going to face Daniel Steiner—who could use neural acceleration—striking from different directions was the correct approach.
On top of that, he had thought that even if one failed, the other could carry on the great cause.
But they were not there.
As if they had completely forgotten the rendezvous order, their figures were nowhere to be found here.
That fact meant one thing.
It meant that Denders and Contim had been captured by Daniel Steiner's private organization before they could even arrive here.
'If he was able to neutralize Denders and Contim in advance, then the same could have been done to me. And yet he permitted me to wander the streets...'
It was a form of mercy that Daniel Steiner was displaying.
Or perhaps it was mere amusement.
Simply having fun with a rat in a trap before killing it.
Thinking that made his stomach churn, and he felt bile rising in his throat.
"Ugh, hk..."
A sob slipped through Theobald's teeth.
His complexion was gradually darkening, and his expression was twisting into one of misery.
Now that he thought everything was over, he no longer felt the need to manage his expression.
Of course, Daniel, who had been watching this from right in front of him, was merely bewildered.
'Why is he acting like that?'
Daniel could not understand the old man who had sat down talking about his son and now suddenly seemed on the verge of tears.
So Daniel, gauging the old man's state, judged the situation as rationally as possible.
'...Could it be that his son is no longer of this world?'
Perhaps by sheer coincidence, upon meeting someone his son liked at a restaurant, the thought of his dead son had suddenly overwhelmed him and he burst into tears.
'That comment about regretting not bringing his son along could also be a self-deprecating joke...'
Having thought that, Daniel looked at Theobald with a hint of pity in his eyes.
After pondering how to broach the subject, Daniel spoke as carefully as possible in order to confirm the facts.
"Were you, by any chance, thinking of your son?"
Though the tone was benevolent, to Theobald it was nothing short of spine-chilling.
Theobald stared at Daniel and gulped, then spoke in a voice that was crawling in submission.
"...Do you know my son?"
"I do not. But I could come to know him, bit by bit."
Theobald's pupils dilated in terror.
He was terrified of what Daniel's intentions could be behind such words.
One thing was certain: it would not be anything good.
His mouth opened and closed.
Gaping like a goldfish, Theobald took in his surroundings and felt a horrifying chill.
The couples were chattering away, but their eyes were all fixed on Theobald.
The middle-aged man reading the newspaper, the passerby out for a stroll, even the waiter stepping away to place an order—none of them took their eyes off Theobald.
Because everyone present was waiting for Theobald's next words.
That pressure became a threat—'He might harm my son'—and it was tightening around Theobald's throat.
"Ah. Aah..."
After a long while of choosing his words, a single tear streamed from Theobald's wide-open eyes.
"I was wrong."
Wrong about what? As Daniel blinked in puzzlement, Theobald continued in a rapid-fire outburst.
"I am sorry. I will never do such a thing again. I should not have ignored the warning; I was merely being a fool. Please! Please, I beg of you. I will end everything within my power. I beg you, show me even a single drop of mercy...!"
Finishing his words, Theobald bowed his head, exposing the crown of his head.
It was a miserable capitulation, but Daniel could not understand in the slightest why this man was acting this way.
But one thing was certain: this man was not in his right mind.
Not wanting to get entangled with a crazy person for no reason, Daniel let out a dry cough.
"I think it would be best for you to head back now."
Theobald's shoulders flinched at Daniel's words.
"...Then what about my son?"
"To be frank, I am not that interested. I do not wish to hear about it."
Thud! Theobald slammed his head against the table.
"Thank you! Thank you!"
Because Theobald was expressing his gratitude so desperately, Daniel was starting to feel frightened.
Just as he was considering whether to call the police, Theobald rose from his seat.
He stared at Daniel with a completely despondent expression, then abruptly bowed his head deeply.
And without even touching his meal, he left the table and walked off somewhere.
As Daniel watched the old man's retreating figure in confusion, the waiter approached.
"Colonel Daniel Steiner. Here is your strawberry cake."
Turning his head, Daniel looked at the slice of strawberry cake the waiter was holding and tilted his head.
"...Did I order a strawberry cake?"
"It is on the house. You honored us with your visit, Colonel; this much is only proper."
Seeing no reason to refuse, Daniel accepted the cake.
"Thank you. I shall enjoy it."
As the waiter smiled and departed, Daniel picked up his fork and stabbed the strawberry on the cake.
Putting it in his mouth, Daniel gazed at the seat the old man had vacated.
'What a strange person...'
A strange person.
Other than that, he had no particular thoughts.
From Daniel's perspective, the man was, after all, someone he was meeting for the first time.
*
After escaping from the restaurant, Theobald ran toward the textile factory.
He now knew that everything had been Daniel Steiner's stratagem, and he intended to report this fact.
Thinking that he had to inform them as quickly as possible to minimize the damage, Theobald stopped in his tracks the moment he entered the textile factory.
The weaving machines and sewing machines, which should have been running noisily by now, were completely still.
It was true that he had ordered them to destroy the materials and prepare to flee, but to avoid outside surveillance, they should have at least kept up the pretense of working.
Yet now, the textile factory was completely empty, as if no one were there.
Gazing at the scene with bemusement, Theobald moved forward slowly.
Only when he reached the far end of the factory was Theobald able to comprehend the full situation.
Crackle─
Sparks flew from a campfire that had been set up on the floor.
Seated in front of the campfire was a black businessman whom he had seen once before.
A briefcase overflowing with bundles of cash sat by his feet.
To his left and right, he could see a group of figures wearing gas masks standing at attention and holding rifles.
It was all over.
In the midst of his helplessness, Theobald slowly turned his head and discovered that the fabric dyeing machine had been pushed aside.
Hamtal had already known about the secret mechanism—the only passage leading from the textile factory to the underground bunker.
After standing numbly for a moment, Theobald slowly turned his head back toward Hamtal.
"How..."
Hamtal pulled a bundle of cash from the open briefcase and tossed it into the campfire.
The flames danced and the sparks scattered chaotically.
"You failed to manage your underlings properly."
In the silence, the money burned away.
Watching the spectacle of the cash turning to mere ash and vanishing, Theobald parted his lips with difficulty.
"...Is the traitor Reven?"
Hamtal did not answer.
He merely pulled another bundle of cash from the briefcase and threw it into the fire once more.
"Are Denders and Contim safe? What about the other personnel?"
This time too, no answer came.
Lacing his fingers together, Hamtal watched the burning money, then slowly opened his mouth.
"I gave you a chance. That chance was about the survival of your organization."
Every time the flames of the campfire flickered, Hamtal's shadow warped wildly as well.
"But you ignored my advice. You did not take this money. Not only did you not take it, you tried to kill Daniel Steiner."
"..."
"Perhaps you and I could have had a good relationship. Without any reason for conflict, we might have become reliable partners and pursued mutual prosperity."
A faint smile appeared on Hamtal's lips.
"But it's all over now. Just like these bundles of cash going up in flames like kindling."
One cannot use money that the enemy rejected.
Because it could be tainted.
However, to Theobald, it felt like a ritual being performed before killing the enemy.
"Do you intend to kill me?"
"For a final will, that's quite frank."
The flat, monotone voice echoed emptily through the air.
Thinking that death was unavoidable, Theobald let out a hollow laugh.
"...Even if you lived your entire lives, you would never know. The sublime feeling of dying for one's country, I mean. The demand that I betray my nation and join hands with you made no sense from the start."
Hamtal quietly nodded his head.
"You're not wrong. But you also don't know why our people are acting this way, do you? Because you've never lived as a slave from birth simply because of the color of your skin."
Hamtal threw a bundle of cash.
"If what sustains your organization is the Allied Nations, then what sustains our organization is simply Daniel Steiner. In that we both act out of conviction, there is no great difference between us. Only..."
The flames grew a little larger than before.
"I was the strong one, and you were merely the weak."
Having spoken this simple truth, Hamtal quietly moved his lips.
"Farewell. The conversation was a pleasure."
Theobald's eyes widened into circles.
The next moment, one of the Black Bird members raised a pistol and pulled the trigger.
Bang─
The moment the gunshot rang out, Theobald collapsed with a thud.
Whatever he found so grievously unjust, he could not close his eyes even in death.
In Theobald's eyes, Hamtal's reflection took a bundle of cash from the briefcase and threw it into the campfire.
Whoosh─
This was traveling money for Theobald's journey to the afterlife, and it was the last bundle of cash left in the briefcase.