The Prisoner Corps and the Deadly Quintuple Choice (2)

I let out a long breath. Haah...

Even the head that had grown cluttered from the morning’s events gradually settled as the hot water from the showerhead poured over me. To think that in just a single morning I had been reduced to walking a tightrope with criminal hunters—one where success meant merely breaking even and failure meant plunging straight into the abyss.

“Maybe it really is that like attracts like…”

As I stared blankly into the mirror beneath the stream of water, a man with gloomy eyes, looking like a drowned rat, stared back at me. A man who could not escape the crimes he had committed and was slowly being crushed and suffocated beneath the weight of his own guilt.

“…Get a grip.”

I slapped my own cheeks hard with both palms, forcing my hazy mind back into focus. There was no time to stand here spacing out. I needed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to select the candidates as quickly as possible, bring them in, and then tackle socialization, restoring their combat instincts, synchronizing our teamwork, and countless other tasks.

When I finished showering and stepped out of the bathroom, the same modest studio apartment greeted me as always. And there was one object that broke the “as always.”

“…So I’m supposed to choose from these? What is this, some kind of deadly quintuple choice?”

I picked up the problematic file folder, sighed, and sank deep into the sofa.

What exactly does the Association want from me?

Did they expect me to manipulate these felons inside the folder with some kind of brainwave ability and reform them into model hunters? Or perhaps they had offered the extreme remedy of a prisoner corps simply to show the president something, while secretly buying time to prepare a different countermeasure behind the scenes?

If it was the Association, they would certainly have a Plan B ready in case the prisoner corps failed.

“Should I pray that the Association is stupid, or pray that they’re cunning…?”

One thing was certain. If I wanted to survive this precarious tightrope act, I had to select at least two of the best possible answers from the five options I had been given.

If I can properly pick out just two people, my ability should be enough to cover the rest somehow.

The power the Association’s old raccoon had called “control” or some such nonsense—an ability I personally never wanted to use again—had now become something I had no choice but to employ depending on the situation.

“…Let’s start by reviewing the first one again.”

I let out a heavy sigh and opened the file folder.

“Whether he went crazy while working as a hunter or was always like this…”

Anyway, his crimes were bad enough, but the sexual nature of them especially turned the public’s stomach. From my position—already forced to fight both inside the Gates and against hostile public opinion—I could never choose him. Automatic pass.

“Why take it out on innocent people?”

Whether that was her true reasoning or not, the fact remained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that these were cruel murders targeting civilians. If I dragged her out of prison, the victims’ families would explode in protest and public opinion would sour dramatically. A mind broken enough to enjoy watching civilians die to monsters would almost certainly slip my control and do the same thing again once back in society. Either outcome would screw me over. So, pass.

“Hm… Bandits, huh.”

Bandits—hunters who joined raid parties, murdered their teammates once the Gate was cleared, and stole all the loot—were a serious social problem that had contributed heavily to the creation of the guild system. Because Gates left no third-party witnesses and disappeared completely after being cleared, they were nearly impossible to prosecute under normal law.

They were certainly villains who deserved to die, and back when the news broke, many had cheered. Still, the sheer scale of the massacre committed with her powers outside a Gate had been legally explosive, so she had ended up in prison.

“…I’ll take this woman.”

For someone in my position—who only needed to worry about public opinion while hiding behind the law—there could be no more suitable talent.

“Audrey Winter, is it?”

Beyond the photograph showing her elegant, refreshing beauty—silver bob that just brushed her shoulders, snow-white skin—her cold blue eyes stared straight through me with crystal clarity.

…She might be the most beautiful person I had ever seen.

I shook my head vigorously to snap out of it and quickly turned the page.

“A fool preying on other fools.”

An S-class hunter could make decent money clearing Gates without resorting to such tricks. Perhaps he no longer wanted to enter Gates but needed to maintain his rank for license renewal. Either way, dragging innocent people into deadly traps could not be forgiven.

“Better to exclude types like this.”

Although it was a case of idiots causing an accident, I wanted to avoid cunning criminals like him as much as possible. He would definitely try to use me too. So, pass.

“Terrorism attempt?”

A female hunter who wielded body reinforcement and explosions. Suspected illegal mercenary smuggled in by a small guild. She had tried to forcibly open a Gate using cores she had mined, purely for entertainment.

When asked what she would have done if the Gate had actually opened, she had answered, “I’d just clear it myself.”

It could be simple overconfidence in her own strength, but something about it smelled distinctly abnormal. Still, with two candidates already rejected for terrible public opinion and one rejected for being a cunning con artist, the only remaining option was this terrorism suspect.

“It’ll… be fine, right?”

An illegal mercenary who had snuck in from abroad combined with an attempted terrorist act was a catastrophic pairing, yet the public opinion I remembered had been surprisingly favorable. At first the news had burned hot with outrage over the suspicious illegal mercenary, but once her face was revealed, the outrage flipped direction entirely.

“It was insane back then. Practically a frenzy.”

Sympathy poured out—how hard must her life have been for such a beautiful woman to come all the way to this small eastern country to work as an illegal mercenary? The media sold her photos and videos for clicks. Documentaries about the tragic economic collapse of small European nations due to Gates aired constantly. Even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her “terrorism attempt” was downplayed as a quirky act by a beauty who had simply been a little too curious, given how unlikely it was for a Gate to actually open.

In the end, the narrative settled on a sympathetic one: an unfortunate beauty hunter who had tried something reckless out of boredom. Later, when it was revealed she was an S-class hunter who hadn’t even known her own rank due to her terrible living conditions, another wave of sympathy had swept through.

“Alias is Calathea… real name unknown.”

Her mugshot showed a beauty with dyed golden hair that gently covered her shoulders. She stared at the camera with burning crimson eyes, flashing a wide, white-toothed grin that looked thoroughly amused. The sight made me seriously question whether choosing her was really okay.

Of course, the question was meaningless. I had no other options.

“…Can’t be helped. I’ll have to fill the last spot ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with her.”

I sent my secretary a message to proceed with the contract to bring in both Audrey and Calathea, then slid deeper into the sofa as if to replenish my already exhausted mental strength.

Please let them be more sane than I fear.

I held onto that painfully desperate wish, knowing full well I would likely be betrayed in the near future.