Suicide
To tell the truth, I had completely forgotten about the whole thing, so I sheepishly scratched the back of my head. Still, this was genuinely impressive. I never expected them to drag him in so quickly.
"It hasn't even been a few days, and you already got him? That's amazing. How in the world did you pull it off?"
"Hmph. Even if I explained, do you really think your pea brain could grasp it? Just know that for my mage division, tracking down some commoner scum is child's play."
"Is that so?"
Her subordinates certainly didn't look like they shared that sentiment. I casually glanced over the robed figures standing behind her. Every single one of them was utterly haggard, with dark circles hanging so low beneath their eyes they practically touched their chins. They were practically indistinguishable from walking corpses.
"Well... yeah... in any case, you all went through a lot of trouble."
The moment I tossed them that indirect word of appreciation, the mages' eyes welled with tears. Their faces twisted as if they were on the verge of breaking down right then and there. They cast desperate, silent pleas in my direction, silently begging me to do something about Weller. She really must have driven them within an inch of their lives. Unfortunately for them, I had neither the authority nor the sheer power to rein her in.
When I casually averted my eyes, they gave up almost instantly, sinking back into their all-too-familiar despair. Man, they really were pitiful.
"Trouble? We didn't go through anything of the sort. Don't look down on us."
"No, that's not what I meant at all... Actually, never mind."
"Hmph. So, what are you going to do with this piece of garbage?" Weller glared down at the crumpled form of Zeb with murderous intent. "You're going to kill him, obviously, right? This damned bastard."
"...Honestly, I'm surprised. Knowing you, dear sister, I figured you would have put him six feet under the second you caught him."
"What kind of person do you take me for? When an agreement is made, both parties naturally have to consult each other. Did you honestly think I wouldn't abide by something that basic?"
"Hey, I wasn't cursing at you or being sarcastic, so cool your jets. That's always your problem. You take completely harmless words, insist on finding some hidden insult, and work yourself into a furious lather all on your own. Doesn't that get exhausting?"
"Shut up! Just tell me already! Are you going to kill him or not?!"
"Hmm..."
I looked Zeb up and down. On the surface, he was just an ordinary middle-aged man you could find anywhere. He had been beaten black and blue to the point where he was an absolute mess, but under normal circumstances, he probably carried himself like quite the dapper gentleman. My memories of meeting him in the past were hazy at best, but that was likely the case.
"Haaah... haaah..."
Like a man who had abandoned all hope and resigned himself to fate, he merely drew shallow, ragged gasps through hazy, unfocused eyes. It felt as though he might drop dead at any moment even if we left him completely alone.
"There are a few things I'm curious about... Is he even in a state to answer questions?"
"Not a problem."
With a simple flick of her fingers, an ethereal blue energy drifted from her hand and sank straight into Zeb's skull. In an instant, what little focus and vitality remained in his eyes vanished entirely.
"There. If there's anything you want to know, go ahead and ask. He'll answer everything."
I shook my head at the sight of Weller gesturing smugly with her chin. Some kind of mental magic, was it? She pulled off such terrifying feats without batting an eye.
"Well then... Zeb. Can you hear me?"
"...I hear you."
He barely moved his lips, and his voice was completely devoid of emotion and intellect. He truly felt like an obedient marionette designed solely to speak when prompted.
"First off... right. Let's start with the most basic question. Why did you try to kill me?"
"Because if I didn't... you would kill me..."
"Hmm."
It was pretty much what I had expected, so I simply nodded. I had never possessed the slightest intention of doing so, but from his perspective, reaching that conclusion made complete sense. Even setting aside Stanashila Aljen's horrific reputation as a tyrannical delinquent, an ordinary noble would have had Zeb eliminated just to save face.
"You must have sunk a fortune into the Assassin Guild... How much did you spend?"
"My entire fortune... every last coin..."
"Well, well. You were the master of a major merchant guild, yet hiring assassins was enough to bankrupt you?"
"It was..."
Perhaps it was just my imagination, but his vacant expression seemed to grow even bleaker.
"I see... Then here is my final question. Where and how did you establish contact with the Assassin Guild?"
In truth, money was one thing, but in the world of Origin World, an assassin guild was not an organization one could simply stroll up to and hire. In fact, there was fundamentally no method for an outsider to reach out to them in the first place. By nature, they never waited around to receive contracts; they went out to solicit business themselves. For example, they might infiltrate a high-ranking noble's bedchamber in the dead of night, casually offering to eliminate whoever was causing them grief as a bold display of their skill, lethality, and intelligence network.
This operating method applied without exception, no matter how third-rate the guild might be. Within the Empire, assassination was viewed as the ultimate dishonor and an intolerable insult to the nobility. As a result, assassins were reviled and persecuted almost as ruthlessly as black mages. The moment their presence surfaced in the light of day, the authorities would scour the earth to crush them, root and stem.
Under such circumstances, the idea that the master of a standard merchant company—who happened to possess an unfortunate gambling addiction—could hire assassins on his own was far more suspicious than it looked. It almost certainly came down to one of two possibilities: either the assassins had caught wind of his situation and approached him first, or he had a backer who belonged to that exceptionally rare circle capable of contacting them at will. If it was the former, there was no issue. But if it was the latter, things were about to get messy.
"The assassins... approached me..."
"Is that so?"
Letting out a quiet breath of relief, I leaned back deep into the plush sofa. It seemed I had been worrying over nothing.
"Ah, one more thing. How did they know to come to you?"
"I do not know that either... However, my guess is... they noticed when I was scraping together information..."
"Hmm, got it. I'm all out of questions."
"Are you?"
Weller waved her hand dismissively, breaking the spell. Zeb snapped back to his senses, his eyes darting frantically about the room in hollow despair.
"Then can I kill him now?"
"Do whatever you want. I've lost interest."
"Good. That's the way it should be. Drag him away."
At Weller's command, her subordinates flicked their hands through the air, hoisting Zeb's battered frame into the empty space above the floor.
"Heh... heh-heh... khehehehk...!"
Right then, as he bobbed helplessly in midair, Zeb burst into crazed laughter.
"So that's how it was...! That was it all along! Hahahaha! To think that after spending my entire life controlling the cards at the gambling table, I ended up as nothing more than a card in someone else's hand!"
"What's with this bastard all of a sudden? Has he finally lost his mind?"
"Yes! I admit it! It seems my life ends here! I did everything within my power, so I have no lingering regrets! But... I will not die by your hands! My death will be chosen by me alone!"
"You're noisy. Shut him up."
As Weller issued the order, the mages released their mana to bind his jaw. Yet regardless of their efforts, Zeb glared down at me with bloodshot eyes, spitting out words at a feverish pace.
"Hahahaha! Stanashila Aljen! They say you can foresee the future, don't they?! Then I shall make a prophecy of my own! Your horrific past will one day strangle your neck! Countless grudges and resentments will seize your hands and feet and rot them away! You shall not live out your natural span! You shall meet the most agonizing death!"
"......"
Having spewed a diatribe that was far closer to a blood curse than any prophecy, Zeb was quickly gagged as magic clamped down hard on his mouth.
"Mmmph! Hmph...!"
Yet even in that helpless state, the man thrashed violently while wearing a manic grin. Within seconds, his skin took on a grotesque, livid hue, and thick streams of dark blood began pouring profusely from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
"W-What?!"
"What in the world...?!"
The mages didn't even have time to react. In the blink of an eye, Zeb's body went completely limp, and a heavy, suffocating silence descended over the room.
"...Tch! Dammit. To think he had prepared a way to kill himself... Hey! Are you idiots completely incompetent?! You should have discovered something like that the moment you captured him!"
"W-We are deeply sorry!"
Furious that she hadn't been able to kill him with her own hands and thoroughly humiliated at displaying such an utter failure right in front of me, Weller unleashed a terrifying storm of verbal abuse upon her mages. But none of that entered my ears.
My gaze was locked onto Zeb's corpse, unable to tear itself away. Warmth was still faintly radiating from the body of the newly deceased man.
"...Hmm."
It was striking. The parting words he spat out, his iron resolve to choose his own end, and the sight of his lifeless shell—all of it burned itself indelibly into my mind.
"Lord Aljen?"
Jolted back to reality by Muriel's soft call, I furrowed my brow at the sight of Weller still screeching at the top of her lungs.
"Sister, that's enough. There's a limit to how much you should chew them out. Does berating them like that bring a dead man back to life?"
"Shut up! Useless bastards like these only do their jobs right after they've had their ears blasted off with curses! Incompetent wretches! Just go drop dead already!"
"Sigh... You really aren't cut out to be standing above people, are you?"
"What did you say?! Are you picking a fight with me?!"
Waving my hand dismissively at the killing intent she flared in my direction, I met her gaze with a serious expression.
"More importantly, Sister. What Zeb said at the very end is bothering me..."
"What? That pathetic curse he hurled at you? You're actually worried about that?"
"Not that. He said something about having become someone else's playing card."
"...And what about it? Don't tell me you think there's a mastermind pulling the strings behind Zeb?"
"Perhaps?"
"Hmm. I'd say the chances of that are low... but fine. I'll look into it for now."
"Much appreciated. Ah, and one more thing."
"What now?"
"Do you happen to have any connections to the Assassin Guild? If you do, I'd love an introduction."
"The Assassin Guild? Ha! As if I would ever associate with such filthy, vulgar vermin!"
"Really? You seem like the exact type to hold petty grudges, so I was sure you'd have one on speed dial..."
"You little...!"
She opened her mouth to scream bloody murder, but paused as some thought crossed her mind. Letting out a sharp exhale, her features settled into an icy, impassive mask in a fraction of a second. The woman's mood shifted faster than the weather. It was erratic enough to make me suspect she had multiple personalities.
"Why do you need the Assassin Guild anyway? Are you planning to have someone killed?"
"No. I just have some business with their technical skills."
"Hmph...? Whatever. I don't know anything about them. Go look somewhere else."
Her voice dropped into a frosty, aloof register.
"The mood is ruined. I've shown you an embarrassing display."
"...I'm not quite sure which embarrassing display you're referring to. Failing to stop Zeb from killing himself? Or throwing a feral tantrum like a lunatic?"
"The former! You insolent brat!"
Crack! Shrrk!
An icicle hurtling straight for my face was cleanly pulverized by Muriel's dagger, spraying fine crystalline powder into the air. How refreshing. At this point, her hurling lethal magic at my head felt so natural that it didn't even surprise me anymore.
"Hmph! I'm leaving! Excuse me!"
"Sure thing. You worked hard. Thanks a lot."
As I offered a lazy wave of my hand, she glared at me out of the corner of her eye before storming out of the room. Her mages trailed behind her, levitating Zeb's corpse along for the ride. The way they cleaned up every drop of blood without leaving a single trace was nothing short of miraculous.
"Muriel."
"Yes, Lord Hangil."
"Can you get in touch with the Assassin Guild?"
"I believe that would be impossible. I have no ties to that side of the underworld."
"Is that so? That's troublesome..."
Scratching my head vigorously, I took a heavy swig of alcohol. Muriel watched me carefully before asking in a cautious tone,
"May I ask why you are searching for the Assassin Guild?"
"Hmm? Well... I'm not telling you."
Because the second she found out what insane stunt I was planning, she would do everything in her power to stop me.
"...Understood."
A slight pout formed on her lips, but she kept her composure and bowed her head.
"Don't go sulking on me."
"I am not sulking."
"Right, of course you aren't. Phew..."
Exhaling a thick plume of cigarette smoke, I sank into thought for a brief moment before coming to a decision. Slowly, I pushed myself up from the couch.
"Are you... planning to go outside?"
Looking at her wide, saucer-like eyes, I gave a dry chuckle and shook my head.
"Not outside, no... but is me standing up really that shocking?"
"Do you realize that ever since I was assigned to your side, Lord Hangil, I have never once witnessed you leave this room of your own volition?"
"...Was I really that bad?"
Tilting my head in mild amusement, I stepped forward toward the hallway.
"Then where are you headed?"
"To Father's office."
If anyone had connections to the underworld's finest killers, it would be that old man. Probably.