Chapter 409
Chapter 409
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 409
Chapter Title: Task Force (1)
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The Magic Association.
Sakiri, an investigator from Inspection Department 3 who had previously interrogated Canis and Arin, was heading to the special correctional facility in the Association's basement.
Accompanying him was Blener, the Deputy Director of the National Intelligence Service's 3rd Bureau.
The NIS's 3rd Bureau was the Supernatural Intelligence Management Department, a clandestine organization composed solely of black ops agents whose ranks were never disclosed to civilians.
The head of such a department had come to the Association personally to obtain one thing that could thwart Gaold's plans.
The confession of the 3rd-Class Archmage, Isabel.
“He's nothing but trouble, that Gaold. A disgrace to the kingdom. I never liked him from the start. Causing all this trouble for everyone, then trying to slip away by himself.”
Sakiri was not fooled by Blener's affable demeanor.
It was a known fact throughout the Inspection Department that Lupist, the current interim Head of the Magic Association, had been lobbying Blener.
“That Isabel woman is a tough one, too. With such a pretty face, tsk tsk. This is why you can't trust mages.”
It was never pleasant to hear a non-mage speak ill of a mage.
Especially when the target of the slander was a certified 3rd-Class Archmage he had once respected.
But Sakiri showed no emotion. When necessary, he could shut down his feelings with ease.
“I hear you're the best in the business. Do whatever you need to. I'll handle the fallout. Just make sure you get that woman to talk.”
“It won't be easy. She may be a non-combatant, but she is an Archmage. She is not the type to commit perjury out of fear of pain.”
“Haha, that's why I called for you, isn't it? Sakiri of Inspection Department 3, the man they say leaves no criminal with their bones intact.”
“I will do my best.”
Sakiri replied perfunctorily, lost in thought.
Interim Head Lupist had long considered Gaold a thorn in his side. If he had his way, he would have mobilized the Association's full strength to eliminate him.
‘But things didn't go as he planned.’
He had seized the opportunity to settle an old score, but the problem was that Gaold's reputation within the Association was better than anticipated.
A madman, but pure in his madness; ill-tempered, yet stronger than anyone.
And this was certainly outside Lupist's calculations.
The incident at the National Emergency Hearing, where Isabel risked her life to defend Gaold, left many mages in the Association with a lingering sense of unease.
Someone who wasn't one of Gaold's loyalists had asserted his innocence.
And with the guarantee of a certified 3rd-Class Archmage like Isabel, the standards of judgment wavered, regardless of the truth.
Lupist, with his goal in sight, grew desperate.
He needed a justification to mobilize the Association's forces, a necessary step to eliminate Gaold and become the official Head. So he reached out to Blener, the Deputy Director of the NIS's 3rd Bureau.
‘That was my conclusion so far. But…’
A question still remained.
Forcing a certified mage to commit perjury and torturing them was a perilous act, even for the NIS. So how on earth was it approved?
‘Who's pulling the strings?’
Sakiri subtly probed Blener's intentions.
“How far should the confession go? That Isabel was actually one of Gaold's loyalists and defended him for that reason? Would that be enough?”
“Hmm, it needs to be a bit stronger than that, don't you think? Something like she masterminded the assassination attempt on His Majesty. Whether she planned the details or handled the funds, you can figure that out.”
‘He plans to completely destroy them.’
No one must know what would happen in the basement today. He intended to prune every branch that could be cut.
That was why Sakiri was assigned to conduct the interrogation alone, without even an observer.
“As long as she doesn't die, you can do whatever you want. Just get the confession. I've had video recorders installed. Afterward, retrieve the Obscura B and bring it to me. And you'll get a special promotion.”
‘So that's what this is about.’
The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place in Sakiri's mind.
The torture of a beautiful archmage, recorded in its entirety. Could there be a better snuff film for the old politicians in their decadent social clubs?
It was for a reason as simple as that.
Outside, an assassination attempt on the king was unfolding, the Head of the Magic Association was changing, and the world was on the verge of being turned upside down. Yet, someone was simply indulging in a hobby.
‘Perhaps this, too, is a perfectly human thing to do.’
Sakiri understood.
Because if humans have the ability to do something, they will do it.
Arriving at the special criminals' cell, Sakiri fixed his gaze on the steel door.
As if he had heard something about it, Blener showed no interest in what lay beyond the door.
“Well, I'll leave it to you. Finish it as quickly as possible. We need the confession within 48 hours.”
Forty-eight hours.
“Don't worry. This is how I got to where I am.”
Blener clapped Sakiri's shoulder as if to show his trust, then turned and left.
Only when the sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor faded did Sakiri place his hand on the door's security device.
He entered the Spirit Zone, and the steel door, having read his personal information, unlocked with a clank.
Pulling open the partially ajar door, he stepped inside to find Isabel sitting in a restraint chair fixed to the wall of the dark cell.
The model employee of the Magic Association, who had always maintained an impeccable appearance and took pride in it.
But now, she was a pathetic criminal, her disheveled hair obscuring her face, her wrists, resting on her knees, bound by mana-suppressing cuffs.
Two on the left and right walls, and one angled away from the door. A total of three video recorders were installed.
Only the one in front was blinking with a red light, having recorded Isabel's condition for the past few days.
“It feels strange, meeting you in a place like this.”
Isabel did not respond.
She merely remained slumped like a corpse, repeating empty breaths.
Sakiri paid her no mind, unbuttoning his cuffs as he checked the recorders.
“Do you know what the most frightening thing I've learned in life is? It's that humans are granted infinite freedom. It's true. Because a human can do anything, no matter how absurd.”
Confirming that the recorder on the left was off, Sakiri moved to the right wall.
“Is it impossible to strangle the child you love more than anything? If you think so, isn't that a foolish belief? No matter how much you love them, you can simply do it. That is the nature of human freedom.”
After checking the second device, Sakiri peered into the lens of the last one, which was still on, and spoke.
“Resetting Obscura B to save recording.”
He pressed a button, and the device turned off, preparing to restart.
Only after all three video recorders were off did Isabel lift her head. Her eyes, void of hope, met Sakiri's.
“Come to think of it, tomorrow is the anniversary of your first son's death.”
Sakiri was now the father of two daughters, but he once had a son. However, two years after his birth, the boy contracted Tryce Disease, which caused his body to rot, and he died two years later.
Sakiri was an Irregular.
“Well, I suppose this is life. Shall we begin?”
He flipped a switch on the wall, and the incandescent light on the ceiling turned on, illuminating the cell as if it were midday.
Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank!
Then, the walls opened up in a chain reaction, expanding the cell to the length of the corridor.
Every torture device and instrument imaginable was displayed there.
“Torture chambers are usually kept dark, but I prefer them bright. Torture is a form of communication, after all. It might feel disgusting to watch your own body being broken, but just give up.”
Sakiri picked up a pair of scissors to cut her prison garb and inspected the blades.
“What should we start with? What are you weak against? Pain? Discomfort? Fear? Physical mutilation? Humiliation?”
“How kind of you, Sakiri,” Isabel said in a flat voice.
“I'll take that as a string of curses. It won't do you any good to provoke me before we've even begun. Let's start with waterboarding. It's better if you're clean for the show.”
“If not… why are you hesitating?”
The snipping of the scissors in Sakiri's hand stopped.
“Hesitating?”
“You of all people should know. No matter what you do to me, I will not retract my statement from the hearing. But your Irregular ability, the 'Scales of Truth,' is an exception. I don't know its activation requirements, but surely you don't need to waste time with this child's play?”
Staring silently at the scissors, Sakiri sighed and turned away.
“Haa, this one, that one, all they have is a sharp tongue.”
Clang!
The scissors fell back into their place with an irritable clatter.
Sakiri, who had been standing still, slowly turned and looked down at Isabel.
“...Why did you do it?”
Isabel tilted her head slightly, as if she didn't understand.
“Why Gaold? You're not one of his loyalists. Gaold and Lupist are the same—they both use the Association for their own personal gain. Lupist, who took over the Association for power; Gaold, who became its Head for revenge. So why did you defend him?”
Isabel's answer was simple.
“I don't know either.”
“You don't know?”
“Sakiri, I really don't know. It wasn't a calculated decision. Yes, as you said, both Gaold and Lupist are self-serving individuals. The reason I chose Gaold despite that is…”
Isabel paused for a moment, then gave a bitter smile.
“I just liked Gaold a little more than Lupist. That's all there is to it.”
“...”
Sakiri’s jaw tightened.
Then he turned back to the shelf of torture instruments, his face contorted as if in pain.
‘Dammit. So it was that simple.’
Since when did the title of 'mage' become synonymous with 'politician's dog'?
Are there no mages left in the Association who fight with an iron intellect to uphold what they believe is right?
“...You have 48 hours.”
Sakiri picked up a twenty-centimeter-long, awl-like torture instrument.
“In 48 hours, Lupist will move the Association, ignoring public opinion. Of course, if you commit perjury before then, that time will be shortened.”
Isabel hadn't even considered such a possibility.
“Forty-eight hours. That's quite pressing.”
“It means Lupist is just as anxious. He wants to become Head with the support of a majority of the Association members, but as long as Gaold is alive, even his current position is precarious. In short, the longer you hold out, the more time you buy for Gaold.”
Sakiri poked the tip of the awl with his finger, then turned to Isabel, his gaze suddenly cold.
“I will at least let you keep your final dignity as a human and as a woman. It's not because I have any good feelings for you. It's just that, as a mage, I refuse to cater to the tastes of perverted old men. However, the pain will be considerable.”
Isabel paid him no mind. Forgetting the horrific time that was to come, she simply gazed at the ceiling, lost in thought.
‘Heh, Gaold. You really are a nuisance to so many people, aren't you?’
Yes, why was that?
Why did I defend Gaold, who had nothing to do with me?
‘Perhaps I, too, have been captivated by your madness.’
The video recorders restarted, their lights coming on.
After activating the remaining two devices, Sakiri stood where all three were in focus and announced the official start of the interrogation.
“The interrogation of Isabel, former manager of the Magic Association's archives, will now commence.”
For the first time, life sparked in Isabel's eyes.
‘Go, Gaold. Go beyond good and evil, beyond the future of humanity, to the ultimate realm a human can reach.’
Sakiri grabbed Isabel's hair and violently jerked her head up.
His eyes widened as he stared at the nape of her delicate neck.
‘Forty-eight hours from now. Endure it.’
A scream echoed through the corridor of the prison.