Chapter 166: Old Soldiers Don't Die
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 166: Old Soldiers Don't Die
Even though the old general had taken a humble stance, Abbey wasn't deferential, just as she hadn't treated him like a general before. She simply stated her business in a rigid tone.
“I will listen and then make my judgment. Be advised that unreasonable requests may be denied, and the fact that you made such a request may also be reported.”
A moment ago, Frontaine would have snapped at her for being impudent, but this time he said nothing.
“No country is without crime. There's no nation with better public security than the Military State, but even that has its limits. Violence exists anytime, anywhere.”
His throat dry, Frontaine gulped down the water in his cup and began.
“As you know, when citizens of the Military State come of age, they are given a bio-receptor and issued a citizen level. And most citizens… live their entire lives at that level, or their level drops due to a momentary mistake or misunderstanding. In truth, it’s best to think of level progression as nonexistent. There’s no hope of things getting better.”
Abbey pointed out in a dry voice.
“Warning. Your statement is excessively negative. The Military State recognizes private property, and those who live diligently can live in sufficient abundance until their death.”
“Humans can't live on canned beans and tap water alone, Captain. To live like a human, you need dreams and hope sometimes.”
“A lack of dreams and hope is not fatal.”
“No, sometimes it is. You'll understand if you ever raise a child.”
Having never raised a child, Abbey couldn't easily refute him. She felt a flash of irritation at the old general’s cheap tactic.
All the while, Frontaine fiddled with the cross in his hand and let out a sigh.
“It’s too rigid. The country, the citizen levels. So rigid there’s no room to squeeze in. At the very least, they shouldn't have ostracized the Sky God and the Sanctum.”
“Correction. The Military State has never ostracized the Sky God or the Sanctum.”
“They just slapped a Level 2 luxury tax on religion. If that's not ostracism, what is? If you have to pay for a pillar to support your heart, how can people who can barely make ends meet afford faith?”
Abbey pointed out calmly.
“That is a choice. If faith is so precious, they can spend their disposable income to possess it.”
“…Hah, that makes sense in words. But the world doesn't work like words! How long have you lived in this world to talk like that!”
Abbey was about to point out his lack of objectivity, suggesting he was only saying this because he was a follower of the Sky God.
But before she could, Frontaine cried out.
“The young who have nothing left to lose are bound to become violent. They have no dreams, no hope. Even the faith that promises them peace and tranquility after death has buckled and been taxed! What kind of heaven makes you pay taxes to enter! It's as if they have no pillar to support their hearts at all!”
Frontaine clenched his fist in the air. The Qi he summoned with his aged body gathered feebly around his fist before dissipating.
“The scapegoats gathered by the Shadow of the Military State are them. Those who have lost their dreams and hope and have thrown their lives into a gamble. The Shadow used them as scapegoats. So I…”
In that short moment, Frontaine, who seemed to have aged years, pleaded with Abbey in a voice that sounded like it might break.
“I wish… they could be shown some small measure of mercy. The children were only lost for a moment.”
The Shelter.
A place that managed the orphanages of several districts and was entrusted with running the distribution center. It was a nest created by childless military veterans to protect children, and a private Department of Veterans’ Affairs to console the families of the fallen.
But if even a single child doesn't grow up according to their parents' wishes, what of the orphans in an orphanage?
While a child's delinquency cannot be blamed entirely on the parents, it is perhaps natural for the parents to feel a sense of responsibility.
Thus, Frontaine, the head of that place, felt a great weight of responsibility and bowed his head to a mere captain to make his request.
But it was something Abbey could not permit.
“Impossible.”
“…Yes. I suppose so.”
From the moment a crime is committed, there is no mercy. The Military State does not forgive.
Therefore.
“However, I can ensure they receive, at the very least, a fair verdict.”
Information provided by a Signaller carried that much credibility.
If Abbey observed and relayed all the events of this case clearly, the Military State would accept it.
“Thank you.”
Frontaine willingly bowed his head again, even to the promise of a mere captain who had offered neither her rank nor her affiliation.
The atmosphere grew solemn for a moment. It was the kind of mood that could have been framed as a beautiful farewell had they parted then.
Breaking the mood, Abbey asked one more thing.
“One question remains.”
“I’m old, I once held a higher rank, and I even bowed my head to you, yet you still have more to squeeze out? Truly, you are a soldier just like the Military State itself. For better or for worse.”
Frontaine hadn't grumbled with any real expectation of change. He sighed and waited for Abbey’s question.
“Do you know about the magician?”
The retired soldier’s eyes widened as he asked back.
“The magician? That pleasant criminal?”
Pleasant criminal?
The combination of words was utterly incomprehensible to Abbey.
“A pleasant criminal? How can a criminal be pleasant?”
“Such things exist in this world, Captain. Though I don't know if someone as inexperienced as you can understand.”
“Negative. That is impossible. Crime is something to be avoided and ostracized. There is no such thing as a pleasant crime.”
“Is that so? Let’s hear about the magician’s deeds. Can you still deny it then?”
Frontaine began with the smile of an old man telling a story to a child.
“You know of Seamless Cloths, I presume?”
At the name of the most famous holding company in the Military State, Abbey immediately nodded.
“Of course. They produce Arch-Avatars and combat arms. One of only five holding companies in the State.”
Everything in the nation was the property of the Military State, but there were a few items it could not produce.
The most famous among them were Arch-Avatars and alchemic fabric.
Alchemic fabric could only be used with an Arch-Avatar, the human template that resonated with it.
Arch-Avatars, usually paired with a Clothing Packet, were highly complex magic tools that required very specialized magic, outstanding skill, and a delicate touch to create. The Military State had attempted to mass-produce them time and again, only to fail.
Currently, the only place in the Military State capable of creating Arch-Avatars was the holding company, Seamless Cloths.
Seamless Cloths, the successor to some clothier from the old kingdom, had invented Arch-Avatars and Clothing Packets. They were, in essence, a technological pillar of the Military State.
“And they were nearly ruined because of a single magician!”
Therefore, the words that followed shocked Abbey.
“How is that possible?”
“It's simple. Those bastards were making bags, accessories, wallets, and belts out of leather to sell! But then some madman started pickpocketing his way through every district!”
Who was this person who could make a great soldier who once wore stars, an old man whose face was covered in the scars and wrinkles of a long, hard life, laugh like a child?
The magician, just by the mention of his name, performed something akin to magic.
“Seamless Cloths back then was a real piece of work. They even dragged in laborers to make their goods, and mobilized orphanages, claiming children with small hands were better at it… But thanks to a single pickpocket wiping out all the accessories they'd made, those bastards went completely broke!”
“Correction. Seamless Cloths did not go bankrupt.”
“The Weaver Girl took over as president and rebuilt it. If not for her, do you think they would have survived?”
After a good laugh, Frontaine stared blankly into the distance, lost in reminiscence.
“At the orphanage I was in charge of back then, the number one dream job was magician, and number two was pickpocket. The headaches I got from them playing ‘steal from each other’… I’m too ashamed to admit it often, but I’m sure a few of them became real pickpockets.”
“How strange. Did the military authorities make no attempt to catch him?”
The old man’s memories were as deep as his years, and it took him a long time to emerge from them. Only after Abbey prompted him a couple of times did Frontaine answer.
“A few policemen investigated, but they all came up empty-handed.”
“What did the Military Police say?”
At that, Frontaine cackled as if he’d heard a hilarious joke.
“What? Use the Military Police to catch the King of Pickpockets? You know how it is. The Military State doesn't bother to lift a finger unless public order is seriously compromised. Even if he's the King of Pickpockets, he's still just a pickpocket. Would it be cost-effective to launch an investigation over one man?”
Abbey’s rational mind could not agree with his cheerful laughter at a criminal. But because he was laughing with such genuine delight, she found herself accepting his sentiment.
“In any case, he is a criminal. Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Having laughed his fill, Frontaine cleared his throat and regained his composure.
“…Anyway, be careful. The magician won't bother an officer like you, but… those bastards calling themselves the Shadow are more likely to target you.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
Abbey held her cap to her chest and bowed her head. It was a simple gesture of courtesy for a retired soldier who was now no different from a civilian, but Frontaine looked more pleased than if he had received a salute.
“Hah, no romance, but a soldier through and through. The future of the Military State is bright.”
Watching Abbey walk across the Shelter’s small yard, Frontaine muttered with a hint of regret.
“An old soldier… just fades away. It’s a shame I can’t step up.”
They were retired soldiers. Those who had grown old or been injured and could no longer fight.
Once soldiers, they were now observers, watching the Military State from a civilian’s perspective.
A change in position changes one’s point of view. Because they had retired, because they had become civilians, they felt a complex mix of emotions as they looked upon the Military State.
Behind the proud and flawless insignia were the crude nails and glue slapped on to maintain its form. It was an eyesore that only someone like a retired soldier could recognize.
However.
“Still, wanting the country to do well… is it loyalty, or is it an attachment to the nation I helped build?”
The old soldier clicked his tongue and pushed himself to his feet. His back, screaming from the simple act of standing up from a seated position, felt more unforgiving than usual.
“Let’s see. I need to order some canned food from Klin… and buy some packets… Ah, and fix the fence.”
He had more things to do than he had years left.