Chapter 253: The Country of Steel and the Faceless Men - 2
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 253: The Country of Steel and the Faceless Men - 2
In the Military State, no one is above the law. Not the common citizen, not even a high-ranking officer. Not even the owner of a holding company.
If someone were to use their power and status to satisfy their personal greed, to wring the people dry for their own gain while not being a true citizen of the State; if they were to sit on a pile of money and toast to their wealth, an uninvited guest would visit them that night.
The Ministry of Public Safety—the State's executioners, with the authority to command the Military Police.
A visit from the Camarilla, Zigrund, means it's all over. All the evidence has already been secured, and the target’s status and assets have already been liquidated. Even the jackals who acted like they would give you the shirt off their back would have already received a warning from Public Safety and would be cowering in fear, saving their own skins.
They say a master's swordsmanship is so profound that his opponent doesn't even realize they've been cut. Something similar happens here. By the time you realize the Ministry of Public Safety has its eyes on you, your limbs have already been severed.
Any desperate attempt at resistance is futile; their opponent is one of the Six Generals, a man at the apex of both power and authority. Not even an officer can stand against his blade. The only emotion a sinner is permitted is regret for having committed a crime in the Military State.
But there is one fact that no one knows.
Before the Ministry of Public Safety arrives, the sinner has already received a prior visit from Zigrund.
Though it wouldn't have been in Zigrund's own form.
*
Urged on by our haste, 'Kerapald' led us deep inside the refinery.
The factory was of a staggering scale. The exterior walls were made of thick concrete, and a massive chimney spewed pure white smoke like a volcano. For such a massive building, not a single window was visible from the outside. Instead, dozens of vents and a single, enormous steel door were positioned eerily on the outer wall. When the thick door opened, a blast of scorching heat rushed out.
And the interior of the Alchemic Steel refinery was revealed.
“The Alchemic Steel refinery is a massive facility that converts raw alchemic materials into Alchemic Steel. It’s divided into three processes: deconstruction, classification, and refinement. The deconstruction process breaks down the raw materials through Dealke, or structural transformation. In that process…”
'Kerapald' tried to prove his usefulness by showing off his knowledge, but his intent fell on deaf ears. Everyone was too stunned by the extraordinary scene unfolding before them.
Clank, clank.
Humans, threaded onto chains, walked along a rail. With their left arms held limply above their shoulders, they followed where the hooks led them.
Their faces were devoid of expression, of life. Without even the leeway to glance at the unfamiliar intruders, they proceeded to their designated spots. They stood before a rail where crimson molten iron flowed, each breath a visible effort.
Then, the chain yanked. Clang. The end of that chain was connected to a bio-receptor. Like a fishhook piercing a fish's mouth, a hook attached inside the bio-receptor controlled the human body with a pain that had become chronic.
“Ugh.”
With a dry scream, a laborer, unable to overcome the hook's pull, reached out his hand. Before him was an ingot of Alchemic Steel, half-melted. The hook tugged at the laborer's hand, pulling it toward the ingot that was still steaming with heat, like a whining child.
For that one moment, even the laborer hesitated. His instinct for survival warned him not to approach the crimson-hot piece of iron. But…
“Aaaaargh!!”
The chain was pulled violently, as if in threat. The tip of the hook protruded against the skin. The pierced flesh bunched up, forming crimson wrinkles as it was pulled back. It was as if to scream that human skin was, in essence, no different from the hem of a garment.
Unable to resist the force, the laborer had no choice but to extend his hand toward the molten steel, whose density was on another level from mere flame.
His flesh began to cook. To resist the searing heat that would reduce him to a lump of meat if left alone…
He had to use alchemy.
“Set! Re, De, Dealke! Dealkeeee...!”
Screams born from such a horrific process echoed from all directions. Enough screams to produce the Alchemic Steel needed to supply the entire Military State.
Somewhere, it seemed, the alchemy had failed. A terrible shriek was followed by the smell of roasting meat. A plume of white steam, born from burning bodily fluids, rose toward the factory ceiling, glanced back at where it came from, and then drifted away on the wind, disappearing from sight.
The Military State's worst labor camp, where survival and pain were collateral to exploit... no, to squeeze these people dry.
The Alchemic Steel refinery shattered every notion of common sense I had built up, and upon its ruins, it stood as a blasphemy that mocked all morality and justice.
“…Th-th-this is… It’s… it’s insane.”
The princess's reaction was delayed because she needed that much time to comprehend the entire system. She trembled with horror and shock.
“H-how can this be? What… what terrible crime did these people commit? No, even so! To be in such a state!”
The Regressor, who was relatively used to such sights, merely grimaced.
“This is why I didn't want to come. Tch, it just turns my stomach.”
[…Even the human farms my Kindred kept were not this extreme. Humans, at times, can be more monstrous than vampires.]
For even Tyr, a vampire, to make such an assessment, words cannot describe how brutal this tragedy was.
‘When faced with a novel sight, humans show new reactions. A human is, in essence, a square box. An opaque box that produces different reactions depending on what is poured into its two eyes and two ears. Unless you are a god, you cannot know what lies inside that dark box. But with sufficient observation, you can imitate it.’
Meanwhile, as if testing us all, 'Kerapald' was observing the reactions of everyone gathered.
‘Reaction confirmed. Threat X shows a sense of déjà vu. Has she been to a refinery before? If so, that would explain her negative feelings toward the Military State. The Progenitor, Tyrkanzyaka. Admiration…? Contempt? One thing is clear: her reaction is muted, as if she has witnessed even greater hellscapes. And…’
After glancing at the Regressor and Tyr in turn, 'Kerapald' showed a clear interest in me.
“How about it, Huey?”
‘Pied Piper of Hamelin. What is your reaction?’
'Kerapald' displayed a sense of superiority for having infiltrated such a perilous place.
But that was just an act, from the perspective of his role, to justify his actions. Inwardly, however, he was observing me with cold calculation.
Why? There are so many dangerous people here right now, so why single me out to be wary of?
‘Insufficient data. Powers used, unspecified. Kerapald described him as a simple prodigy with no outstanding talents, but his record of taking the top spot over a future Six General and surviving Tantalus… If I were to dismiss him as ‘simple,’ there'd be no fun in digging deeper.’
Looks like I'm popular with strange beings, too.
All information in the Military State passes through the Camarilla. He has the authority to be the first to view the signallers' intelligence, and there is even a dedicated communications headquarters to assist him.
That's why he, who gathered all that information, had turned his attention to me—a veritable dark zone of information.
‘He even made the Gunmaster betray the Military State and caused the Progenitor to emerge from her coffin. Was that a coincidence, or was it your ability? Now, show me, Pied Piper. How did you entice such renowned powerhouses to your side? Just what important role are you playing….’
Fine. If that's what you want.
I'll show you.
A completely different me than usual.
“This fucking insane country… What in the world do they think people are?! How can they treat human beings like worthless tools?!”
As if outraged by the human rights being trampled under the name of the Military State, I raised my voice and shouted, my emotions flaring.
The princess, feeling a similar sentiment, expressed her agreement, but the Regressor gave me a quizzical look.
“Huh? What's this? So unlike you. Did you suddenly develop a love for humanity or something?”
“There’s a time and place for jokes, and this isn't it! How can you say that in this situation?! Does this sight not stir any thoughts in you at all, Shei-ssi?!”
“Huh? No. It’s just… you’re being more emotional than usual…”
It's to fool the Camarilla! Don't ruin it, just stay quiet!
‘A sense of justice? Is some paltry sense of justice the reason he turned against the State? Hmm. Judging by the threat’s reaction, it’s not certain yet. Shall I test him a little more?’
'Kerapald' added a thoughtless comment, as if unintentionally.
“Uh, this part is actually one of the better ones…”
A single, exquisitely calculated sentence. Something the careless 'Kerapald' might say, yet a subtly laid trap.
I cheered inwardly. To lay a trap meant he now fully recognized me as his prey.
In that case, I had to play the part of the prey. I readily stepped into the trap he'd set.
“Kerapald, what do you mean by that? If this is one of the better parts… what’s next? What else is there?”
“The people in charge of the deconstruction work here are relatively knowledgeable. They’ve learned the Standard Magic and know how to perform alchemy, so they’re assigned a comparatively easier task.”
“Then what about the next process?”
When I asked, 'Kerapald' answered nonchalantly.
“Those who know nothing of alchemy work in the next process.”
A contradiction. Alchemic Steel is the result of alchemy. How could someone who doesn't know alchemy refine Alchemic Steel?
But 'Kerapald' stopped his explanation there, as if challenging me to figure out the rest.
‘He hasn't shown any particular martial prowess so far. Is he the strategist? Well then, let's test his abilities.’
Sorry, but I've cheated on all my tests. As long as you know the answer, there are no questions I can't solve.
“Using alchemy without knowing how? That can’t be possible…”
It is. There is just one way to use alchemy without knowing how.
Something every citizen of the Military State receives upon coming of age. One of the Seven Major Inventions of the Military State, which performs alchemy tailored to one's body when a Clothing Packet is inserted.
I already knew the answer from reading his thoughts. Still, I said it with an expression of disbelief, as if I'd barely managed to find the solution after deep contemplation.
“The bio-receptors…?”
‘Correct.’
“They use the human body as a mold… and pour molten iron into it…?”
‘To deduce that much from fragmented information… It's hard to see him as a mere prodigy. It would be more accurate to view him as this group's strategist.’
'Kerapald' revised his assessment of me upward and nodded.
“Tch, you figured it out. I guess it was an easy problem for you, the top student of your year…”
Alchemy is the general term for the act of processing one substance to transform it into another, more useful one. It's nothing so special; all living things, including humans, perform alchemy every moment.
They burn the food they eat to obtain heat, and refine the dregs to create blood and flesh, which they circulate throughout their bodies.
Life itself is the most complex alchemical entity in the world.
“You’re right, Huey. Life is the first element of alchemy… If so, it's also possible to perform alchemy using life itself.”
Beyond this door, there would be people packed into spaces as cramped as chicken coops. They would be bound with only their left arms, the ones with the bio-receptors, sticking out through the bars of their cages, and crimson molten iron would be continuously seeping into them.
Unlike here, they wouldn't be given an ounce of freedom. Because they don't need freedom to do their work.
I muttered a single phrase.
“Completely insane.”
And I meant it.
This refinery was not built with malice. While it resulted in the torment of the laborers, that was merely a side effect.
The Military State built this refinery for a simple reason: it was necessary.
They needed enough alchemic resources to fill the State and make it prosper, and the only way to produce those resources was to work countless humans to the bone. So, the Military State exploits its prisoners to create Alchemic Steel.
I observed the laborers screaming in agony. Their clothes were clean, and though stress had caused their skin to peel and their hair to fall out, they were reasonably well-fed. The chains that bound them were also clean, without a spot of rust. It would be a loss for the Military State if the laborers, who had to have their mana squeezed out of them, died too quickly.
There is no malice, no corruption, no hatred there. Only cold reason drives humans into agony.
I now understood how Kerapald had managed to infiltrate such an important facility. No high-level personnel like an officer would work as an overseer here if they were in their right mind, so they must have had to bring in outside help.
And then one of them got caught by the Camarilla and became 'Kerapald'.
I shouted.
“Let's smash this place to bits, right now!”