Chapter 357
Chapter 357
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 357
Chapter Title: Magic Association (3)
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‘This doesn't seem like a rare situation, surprisingly. What should I do? Should I go check it out?’
Terrorism against civilians was a major crime, so the kingdom would surely respond immediately. There probably wasn't much he could do even if he went to the scene, but ignoring it and returning to the association left a bad taste in his mouth.
A crowd of people, having evacuated a second time, rushed in from the main street. From their shouts as they passed, Shirone was able to grasp the situation in more detail.
“It's the Black Revolutionaries! They’ve taken hostages at the Gold Tower and are holding their ground!”
“Damn it. Of all people, it had to be those reckless lunatics.”
“What’s the anti-terrorist squad doing? Haven't they been contacted yet?”
The shouts were everywhere, but no one was heading toward the Gold Tower.
It was only natural, and it had to be that way. There was nothing an ordinary person could do against terrorists, so it was best to leave it to the professionals.
‘What should I do?’
As a magic academy student, he was no expert. But he wasn't so much of a novice that he could just stand by and watch people die.
From within the crowd of people watching the smoke from the sidewalk, he heard a voice.
“Vicious bastards. They're probably demanding their comrades be released again. If they aren't suppressed quickly, they'll kill all the hostages. They killed three people last time, too.”
Shirone’s heart began to lean in one direction.
‘I should at least go and assess the situation.’
He could protect himself, so it was probably the right thing to do.
As someone who was at the scene when it happened, he was in a position to provide an initial response. And though he was a student, he was a combatant with plenty of practical experience.
Having made his decision, Shirone ran toward the rising smoke. The people watching from the sidewalk saw him running against the flow of traffic and shouted.
“Hey, kid! Don't go that way! It's a terrorist zone!”
Shirone stopped. But it wasn't because of the citizen's warning. The rattling box was preventing him from running fast. He could just leave it, but he couldn't afford to lose the association's property when he was only going to assess the situation.
“Ah, screw it!”
Steeling his resolve, Shirone cast Blink. As he transformed into a flash of light and streaked through the sky, all the onlookers stared up, their eyes wide.
“W-What? He's a mage?”
* * *
The terrorist incident was quickly reported to the kingdom's major agencies.
The Magic Association was no exception. When the news broke that the Black Revolutionaries had bombed the Gold Tower, the association moved swiftly.
A request for cooperation came down from the Royal Security Agency, and the association replied that it would provide all possible support.
However, the information did not reach a certified Grade 8 mage directly. Plu was still in the third-floor engine room, overseeing maintenance on the mana control device. She did, however, notice the commotion outside.
“What's going on? Please continue with your work for a moment.”
Opening the engine room door and stepping into the hallway, she saw the guards had stopped their work and were gathered in a corner, muttering amongst themselves. Growing more curious, Plu tilted her head and walked over to them.
“What's with all the commotion? Was there an accident somewhere?”
“Ah, Chief. The Black Revolutionaries have apparently launched a terrorist attack downtown.”
At the mention of the Black Revolutionaries, Plu's expression soured.
Radum, the underbelly of Bashuka, was home not only to criminals but also to numerous non-human races who had drifted there after being defeated in the wars of conquest. However, due to the capital's policy prohibiting non-human races from engaging in economic activities, there was a great deal of resentment, which had festered and led to the formation of radical terrorist groups like the Black Revolutionaries.
Their demands were always the same: release their comrades and the vice-commander, Kanimar, who were imprisoned beneath the royal castle.
Naturally, the kingdom could not meet their demands, and as a result, the Black Revolutionaries grew more radical and daring in their terrorist activities, plunging the capital into chaos.
“Filthy creatures. What were they thinking, attacking civilians?”
Plu wanted to rush to the scene and beat them to a pulp. But if everyone started abusing their authority, there would be no one left at the association.
Calming her anger, Plu asked again.
“So, where is it this time?”
“Ah, it's the Gold Tower. They really picked their spot.”
“Oh my, they broke into the Gold Tower?”
The Gold Tower was a foreign exchange bank where currencies from other nations were traded. Although the Royal Ministry of Finance held a certain amount of foreign currency in reserve, a temporary paralysis in trading could, depending on the circumstances, lead to serious trade losses, making it a strategic location.
‘Security there is tight. How on earth did they get in?’
Plu’s shoulders flinched.
“Wait a minute! The Gold Tower?”
“Yes. Is something wrong? Do you have an account there…?”
Plu’s mind became a tangled mess.
The Gold Tower was just one block away from the Akim Alchemy Guild. There was no way Shirone wouldn't have heard about the incident.
‘Wait, what time is it? Judging by the time…’
Even accounting for variables, he was almost certainly at the scene by now.
Her heart began to pound. What frightened her most was the thought of Gaold's guest getting caught in an accident.
“Agh! Seriously!”
Plu abandoned her thoughts and ran down the hallway. A guard walking toward her asked with a surprised look.
“Chief, where are you going?”
“I'm heading out! I'll be back soon!”
Plu bounded down the stairs.
As she exited the main entrance, she saw citizens staring anxiously in one direction. Spotting the faint plume of smoke rising in the distance, Plu immediately cast Photonization magic. Her body turned to light, and with a roar, she curved through the sky.
* * *
“Stay quiet! The first one to try anything funny dies!”
There were a total of eight members of the Black Revolutionaries who had bombed the Gold Tower. All were wearing black hoods and carrying menacing weapons.
Armed with sickles with chains, twin axes, flails, and longswords, they rampaged through the Gold Tower, causing the twenty captured hostages to tremble like leaves.
“From this moment on, you are all sacrifices for the revolution. You must be prepared to willingly offer your lives to free our comrades! For those who refuse, a pain worse than death awaits!”
“Waaah! Mommy, I'm scared!”
A four-year-old boy burst into tears in his mother's arms. In the dead silence where everyone else was quiet, the child's cries sounded louder than a siren.
“Shh, shh! Be quiet. You mustn't cry.”
She chided him in a low, firm voice, but the child’s crying wouldn't stop.
The terrorists weren't exactly in their right minds either. The situation was already tense, and the child’s crying was grating on their nerves.
One of the Black Revolutionaries approached the mother and child and shouted.
“Shut that kid up! If he keeps crying, I'll kill you first!”
“Waaaaaaaaah! Mommy! Mommy!”
The mother pulled her child into her arms, bowing her head repeatedly.
“I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll quiet him down right away. He'll stop soon.”
The terrorist had no intention of being patient.
After all, everyone gathered here was destined to die a glorious death for the sake of the revolution.
“Shut up! Do you take the revolution for a joke!”
The terrorist kicked out, sending the mother sprawling. The child, struck in the side, flew several meters before collapsing.
He gasped for air, choking, and a woman rushed over, quickly pulling him into her arms and comforting him.
“Why would you hit a child! Of course he's going to cry when he's scared!”
A medium-statured revolutionary holding a sickle approached, swinging its chain.
The woman had blonde hair pulled back, a wealthy air about her face, and her clothes and accessories were all high-end.
Her name was Aria. She was the very same woman who had ridden in the carriage with Shirone a few days ago. She had come to exchange currency for a diplomatic internship next week, only to be caught by the Black Revolutionaries.
“Shut up. Nothing is more important than completing the great work of the revolution.”
“Hmph! Revolution? You still need money for that, don't you? Just take all the money here and go!”
“Kekeke, money?”
The revolutionary’s shoulders shook as he laughed in a gravelly voice.
To the Black Revolutionaries, money was no more than scrap paper. After all, even if they had it, they couldn't engage in any economic activity in Bashuka.
The kingdom was unable to eradicate the terrorists breeding in the capital's sewers, and so they focused on weakening them through increasing economic pressure.
But this fact became another invisible weapon for the terrorists.
Not being bound by money was often packaged as something noble. The Black Revolutionaries branded the kingdom as a social evil and rallied more and more non-humans under the banner of a sacred conviction.
“Kyaa!”
The revolutionary pulled Aria to her feet and twisted her arm behind her back. Then, with the arm holding the sickle, he choked her neck tightly.
The sharp blade of the sickle glinted menacingly before Aria's eyes.
“Kekeke, is it because you're a rich girl? You smell amazing. How about it? You've eaten well and grown up nicely, so why don't you show off that body for everyone?”
From the darkness of the hood, a thick, bluish tongue descended. It was twice as long as a human's, and its saliva reeked of a pungent odor. Aria grimaced and turned her head away.
“Hey, no time to play around. The anti-terrorist squad will be here soon. Let's get started.”
One of the two men who had been at the Akim Alchemy Guild spoke while looking outside. The other revolutionary had no particular interest in human women, so he readily complied.
“Keke, then let's make this woman the first target. She's a noble and pretty, so she'll be very effective. Too bad, missy. But you've lived a happy life until now.”
The Black Revolutionaries would stop at nothing to get their demands met. Besides, all they wanted was the release of their comrades. Killing one person to send a message was their primary terror tactic.
“Please, spare me! Spare me!”
Aria finally understood the situation and began to struggle.
But none of the other hostages stepped forward to help her. Even the child's mother just held her son and squeezed her eyes shut.
The revolutionary with the sickle grabbed Aria and dragged her out through the shattered entrance of the Gold Tower.
The street, now cleared of all civilians, was utterly desolate. Only the nearby merchants watched the situation from inside their shops.
“Listen up! We are the Black Revolutionaries! Release Vice-Commander Kanimar and our comrades from prison immediately! If you don't, we will kill one person every ten minutes! To prove that our resolve is not a lie, we will kill this woman right here, right now!”
Aria's face turned ashen.
“Kyaa! Spare me! Please, someone help me!”
The watching merchants began to turn their heads away, one by one. They couldn't meet Aria's eyes.
The Black Revolutionaries were known to follow through on their threats. The pitiful young woman was just unlucky that today would be the last day of her life.
“Don't move. If you want to blame someone, blame the kingdom.”
The revolutionary’s sickle touched Aria's neck.
He had no intention of killing her cleanly. That wouldn't be effective. By slicing her throat only halfway, the woman's life would slowly ebb away in agony.
“Die for the revolution!”
His voice was so sincere that she was certain this was the end of her life.
Her legs gave out, and she couldn't even scream. The fear of death paralyzed her mind, and her body began to convulse uncontrollably.
“Wait! Wait a minute!”
Just as the revolutionary's sickle was about to slice across Aria's throat, someone appeared on the desolate street.
“What?”
The revolutionaries waiting inside the Gold Tower peered through the windows at the source of the voice. A boy, not yet twenty, was catching his breath, holding a metal box.
“Who are you?”