Chapter 91: The Ostracism Game
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 91: The Ostracism Game
Lieutenant Colonel Callis was an officer of the Military State.
She was proud of that fact.
Having distinguished herself since her days at the secondary military school, she naturally entered the Advanced Military Academy and, after graduating with honors, became a decorated officer of the Military State.
The moment she graduated from the academy, she was granted level 3 citizenship. As the Level 3 citizenship was engraved onto her bio-receptor, a wave of emotion washed over her, and for the first time, Callis wept.
Among the many privileges of a level 3 citizen, the most significant was the right to inherit.
Only from level 3 and above could a citizen inherit property.
The first thing Callis did after becoming an officer was head to the Department of Veterans’ Affairs and inherit her father's legacy before it could be incinerated.
A house with a yard, an old but luxurious automaton carriage, a gold-leafed sword, and a special combat arm packet.
If Callis hadn't claimed them, they would have been absorbed into the State’s coffers. Childhood memories that would have been dug up by the shovels of military engineers.
Callis was proud that she had secured it all. With her own hands, with her own abilities, she had protected the memories that might have been buried under concrete.
I can't stop here.
Having fought tooth and nail to get this far, wasn't it only natural to aim higher?
A Level 4 citizen could use any facility in the Military State without restriction. They could even own land, employ servants for personal use, and temporarily grant their spouse a level 3 citizen level upon marriage.
Most importantly, while a level 3 citizen only had the right to receive an inheritance… a Level 4 citizen could bequeath one.
She could pass down the legacy from her father, and all the wealth she would accumulate on top of it, to the next generation without any loss.
To leave something behind.
That alone made becoming a Level 4 citizen worth the challenge.
But talent alone wasn't enough to reach Level 4. It was a status one could barely attain only with the right opportunity, sufficient luck, and the skill to seize it.
Even her father, a brilliant officer… it was only because he’d found the right place to die that he received a posthumous promotion of two ranks, which in turn made him a Level 4 citizen.
If her father hadn't been near the command center when it fell into crisis, if his death had been even slightly less heroic, Callis would never have received his inheritance, regardless of her level.
Fortunately, an opportunity has come to me as well.
Just as she became an officer, ‘they’ approached her. Overflowing with ambition but lacking the courage to throw herself into danger, she took their hand to plunge herself into hell.
She was assigned to impossible missions, but Lieutenant Colonel Callis utilized her abilities to their fullest and earned distinction. She even received a medal at the New Year’s Assembly.
After a few more such instances, she was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel at a relatively young age.
Then came the new mission ‘they’ entrusted to her.
Infiltrate the Abyssal Prison, Tantalus, and assess the situation inside.
To be precise.
To identify any factors that might interfere with securing the Dog King.
Tantalus was an infernal realm that no one should ever enter, but… the recent prison break had significantly reduced its danger level. They even said that the laborer sent down first—a petty criminal used for reconnaissance, known in the Military State as a ‘litmus test’—was still alive.
She would have had to follow the order anyway, but Lieutenant Colonel Callis had readily accepted it with those calculations in mind. If she succeeded here, ‘they’ wouldn't be able to cast her aside.
Seeing this as her chance, Callis volunteered for the position of logistics overseer and, feigning a mistake, fell into Tantalus.
But plans always go wrong in the worst possible way.
As if it were fated to be.
*
In the days following the officer’s fall, I made time every day to play with Azzy. I sighed, fitting the heavy discs between my fingers.
“Ah, I used to be able to get away with just playing half-heartedly. Now that there’s a competitor, I can’t get a moment’s rest.”
The affection she’d built up for me over three months was still there, but that fickle little puppy with the ever-wagging tail tends to run up to any human she sees, so I couldn't take my eyes off her for a second.
I threw the discs. Azzy leaped.
She jumped to catch one, kicked off the wall to snatch another, and simultaneously extended her body with the energy she had left in reserve. Azzy’s body bounced in mid-air, as if she had stepped on the air itself to change direction.
Having successfully caught the last disc, Azzy landed on the ground, her eyes shining with joy.
“Woof woof woof woof woof woof woof!”
“Triple-disc, success!”
“Wooooof!”
A difficult challenge, repeated attempts, and a thrilling success provide an immense sense of reward. Azzy hopped in place a few times, basking in her happiness.
As I took the discs from her mouth, Azzy exclaimed with sparkling eyes.
“Woof! Competition, good!”
“What competition? The only competition you know is for food.”
Just because you mimic difficult words doesn't mean you're speaking like a person. You have to know the meaning to be truly speaking.
As I snorted, Azzy said with a bright smile.
“Monopoly, bad! Makes you lazy! Like you!”
“…Monopoly? Where did you learn a word like that?”
“Woof woof! Ball! More!”
“These are discs… Anyway, now that we’ve done the triple-disc, what’s next? Hmm.”
I stroked my chin in thought, then snapped my fingers as an idea struck me.
Oh, wait a minute. Is this the moment? Is it finally time to try that?
“Hey, Azzy. What do you think about trying for four discs?”
“Woof? I, like! But, no can do!”
She’d love for me to throw them. It was all play to her, after all. But she was saying that it was just impossible.
Since Azzy couldn't actually step on air, it was an objective self-assessment. You can't change direction in the empty air where there's nothing to push off of.
“But what if I become your foothold?”
“Woof?”
“Yeah. You jump for one, step on me for another, kick off the wall for the third, and use your remaining energy for the last one. Like that!”
“Woof! I, like! You?”
“Well, we can give it a try.”
Until now, Azzy had only been reading my movements. But for the quadruple-disc, we would have to be in sync. She would have to carefully watch my position and, when I was ready, jump off me with perfect timing to reach the discs.
Alright, then.
I knelt on one knee and braced my arm firmly on the other, so my body wouldn't waver when Azzy stepped on me.
“I’ll throw them one by one. Aim for the closest one first.”
“Woof!”
“Okay, start!”
Flick, flick, flick, flick.
I threw the four discs in quick succession at short intervals, from nearest to farthest. Then, watching Azzy charge toward me, I braced myself.
…But wait a minute. Azzy is the Dog King, but she’s in human form right now. That means her weight is roughly…
Oh.
“Wait, ti—”
Before I could finish, Azzy leaped, aiming right for me.
An impact similar to being hit by a carriage slammed into me.
*
Seeing me sprawled on the concrete, Tyr immediately began to scold me.
“You should have been more careful!”
“I’m fine. See? All healed.”
I showed her my arms and legs. The scrapes I’d gotten from the concrete had vanished completely.
One of the powers of the Beast King was healing by licking. As conceptual beings, the Beast Kings possessed this ability, and Azzy had made full use of it on me.
Tyr sighed as she looked at my already-healed wounds.
“…I do not like it, but I suppose it is fortunate the Dog King is here. To think a wound can be healed… by licking.”
“Why don’t you like it?”
“How can you say I am close with the Dog King? We were once sworn enemies.”
“Azzy is this era’s Dog King. Compared to when you were fighting, there must be dozens of generations between them.”
“Even so, is their essence not the same? My unease does not simply vanish. And.”
Poke. Tyr jabbed my shoulder with two fingers. Her prim gaze was fixed on me with displeasure.
“‘Dozens of generations’? How mischievous. It was merely a few hundred years ago.”
“I don’t know why you’d use ‘merely’ for a few hundred years, but it’s probably true, right? The Dog Kings tend to have short lifespans.”
“Does she not wear a human body and age as a human does? How could such a carefree Dog King have a short life?”
“They’re always fighting with the Wolf King.”
“The Wolf King?”
“Oh, you don’t know that story? It’s a common one in fairy tale books.”
At that, Tyr’s worries were momentarily forgotten as she looked at me with great anticipation. Her blood-red eyes sparkled.
For the Progenitor who was starved for stories, I recited the fairy tale from memory.
The Dog King and the Wolf King.
They were once beast brothers who got along well. The two animals, who loved to hunt in packs, would work together to corner their prey before one of them would bite its neck and end its life.
The one who cornered the prey was usually the smaller, nimbler dog, while the one who delivered the final blow was the wolf with its sharp fangs. Smart, agile, and perfectly in sync, the two helped each other and spent their days in idyllic hunts.
Then one day, a shepherd came to the place where they lived, driving a flock of sheep that looked like a cloud.
The shepherd was looking for grass for his sheep. As he looked around, he spotted the dog, who was out scouting, and spoke to it.
‘You there, little wolf. Will you guide me to a land full of wild grass? If you do, I will give you something delicious.’
Wild grass was of no value to the dog. The dog led the shepherd to a hillside covered in it. Seeing the vast hill lush with green grass, the shepherd was overjoyed.
‘You are a very good wolf! Thank you! Here, I’ll give you this bone with meat on it!’
The dog had gotten a delicious bone just for pointing out a patch of inedible grass. Excited, the dog took the bone and ran straight to the wolf to tell him the news.
He said that the human who herded sheep gave out such delicious meat. He boasted about what he had earned and shared his prize.
Excited by the story, the wolf ran off and sank his teeth into the neck of a young lamb grazing at the edge of the flock. If the enraged shepherd hadn't struck the wolf with his crook, it wouldn't have ended with just one.
The wolf, struck across its back, snatched the limp lamb in its mouth and fled.
The hunt was a success, but neither the dog nor the wolf was satisfied. One small lamb was too little for the two of them to share.
The dog missed the bone with meat on it, and the wolf feared the heavy wooden crook.
The wolf wanted the dog to help him on the next hunt. He ordered the dog to distract the shepherd while he hunted the largest of the sheep.
Then, claiming he needed to heal his wounds, he swallowed the lamb they had caught in one gulp.
All the dog got was a single bone without a trace of meat.
The next day, as planned, the two split up and approached the flock of sheep. It was then that the Dog King, who was supposed to create the diversion, appeared before the shepherd.
Spotting the dog loitering before him, the shepherd stood up, leaning on his hard wooden crook. But instead of swinging it, he waved his hand and said.
‘Good little wolf. Tell me where the big one who took my sheep last time is. If you do, I will give you a bone with plenty of meat on it.’
What the shepherd offered was a bone with plenty of meat. What the wolf offered was a bone without a scrap of meat.
After a moment's thought, the dog accepted the shepherd's offer. The dog led the shepherd in the direction the wolf was coming from, and the hiding wolf was soundly beaten and chased from the pastures.
From that day on, the dog came to live with humans, and the wolf, whenever the full moon rose, would remember the pain and betrayal of that day and howl…
“…You don’t know the story of why the Dog King and the Wolf King came to fight? The Wolf King should have been around back then, too.”
Tyr listened to my story with a fascinated expression. After a moment of being lost in the tale, she emerged, her gaze lifting slightly as she recalled old memories.
“The wolf… Ah. So it is. I had forgotten. The one that led the wild dogs to charge at us.”
“That makes sense. To vampires, the Dog King and the Wolf King must have seemed the same. Whether it was the dog, a friend to humans, or the wolf, drawn by the scent of blood.”
“In any case, it is an interesting story. I have heard it for the first time today.”
“It’s from a fairy tale book.”
“I never had anyone by my side to tell me such fairy tales… though that is no longer the case.”
Tyr snapped her fingers. A shadow rose up beside me and formed into an ornate chair. Tyr sat down and looked up at me with concern.
“Whatever the case, do not get hurt. If you are hurt, who will tell me stories, and who will make my heart beat?”
“It was just a little blood. I’ll just think of it as a donation to you, Tyr.”
“Nonsense.”
A small hand slapped my right arm. It didn't hurt at all.
Then, Tyr grasped my right arm with that same hand and whispered to me with an unparalleled earnestness.
“Your blood tastes awful. So keep it safe inside your body. Do not spill a single drop.”
To Tyr, who spoke with such deep concern, I had to reassure her again and again that I understood.