Neither More nor Less (1)
Beep-bee-beep— beep-bee-beep—
Lee Jun's eyes opened to the familiar sound of his alarm.
Sunlight poured through the curtains, which hung only half-drawn. The time was… six, give or take.
"Haaahm…."
He'd gone to bed later than expected last night, so the fatigue hadn't quite worn off yet. Lee Jun stretched with a long, full yawn and pulled the curtains completely open.
Autumn had well and truly arrived—the trees lining the street blazed red and gold. A landscape without a single person in sight was a strange thing to behold, but… it was a view he saw every day living here, so it no longer felt off in the slightest.
"If that's how it's going to be, why not just move? What's wrong with the edge of a cliff where no one ever comes?"
"…Isn't that basically a demon lord's castle?"
"So what? Doesn't it sound cool? Besides, it's not much different from how you live now."
"No. This place is convenient for commuting into Seoul, and the rent's cheap."
Lee Jun stared for a moment at the pint-sized Silhouette chattering away on his shoulder.
Seen like this, she could almost pass for a spirit or a summoned familiar, honestly.
Should he just fudge the paperwork, call her a spirit, and register her officially with the Association?
"Would that registration actually be good for you?"
"Not particularly. Ah—well, spirit mages are rare enough that there's an incentive subsidy."
"Huh. Not worth it, then. You're already loaded."
"That's what I thought."
And truthfully, he'd only floated the idea to see what she'd say.
"Well then—another refreshingly fine morning, I see… hm?"
He'd been about to turn his head and breathe in the crisp morning air when something off caught his eye.
"……?"
A single car, passing straight through his perception-dampening barrier.
The fact that it had gotten through at all meant… something very wrong was afoot.
Click—
In an instant, Lee Jun had a pistol drawn from his Pocket. Tense, gun trained on the door outside—
the car door opened, and a familiar figure stepped out.
A mop of fluffy blue hair. A height that was tiny at a glance.
The head of the Magic Craftsmen Union—Freya.
"…I don't recall any message saying you were coming."
Ah, right. That person had never once called ahead. Not a single time.
"Sigh… it's going to get noisy again, isn't it."
Somehow this place had turned into a town square for reunions.
Granted, by original design intent that was exactly what it was supposed to be… but who knew anymore.
Enough with the stray thoughts. Time to go out and greet her.
"Ahem, hm hm. Hmm hm hm."
"What are you doing?"
"Hold your tongue a moment. Can ye not see this body is adorning itself?"
"…Is that what you'd call it?"
Freya was using the car window as a mirror, tidying her hair. Her maid addressed her with a flat, unamused expression.
"Does it please you that much?"
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Tch. Stiff as ever."
Freya left her visibly dissatisfied maid behind and headed for the gate. The maid, in turn, let out a small sigh and followed.
Duty was duty, after all. For better or for worse, she was obliged to obey Freya's word.
"…Sigh."
In place of her employer—brimming with idle thoughts at the worst possible moment—she pressed the doorbell herself.
Bzzt—
"Is Lee Jun at home?"
No answer came.
She said, pointedly, for Freya to hear: "Did I not tell you it was far too early for this?"
But Freya only crossed her arms with a huff, glaring at the gate with considerable displeasure.
"I know the very hour that scamp wakes. He's leaving the gate shut on purpose, he is."
"…Remarkable. The normal assumption would be that he's still asleep."
"Tch. He's no sluggard, I'll grant."
But before her complaint could even finish, the gate unlocked.
Click—
The lock disengaged on its own, and a familiar voice drifted from the speaker beside the doorbell.
—Come on in.
The voice was a touch hoarse. Evidently he really had just gotten up.
"My apologies for the early hour."
—Not at all. You work hard too, Ain.
"…Yes."
For a brief moment, a quiet weariness passed between the two of them.
Ain, the maid so named, offered a polite apology into the doorbell, then turned to Freya.
"You see? I told you he would still be asleep."
"Hmm, strange. That boy should've been up long before now."
"Schedules do change from time to time. That is precisely why I suggested coming in the afternoon."
"Bah, enough! What I have to deliver can't wait that long—how am I supposed to sit on it till then? Come, let's get inside already."
"…Sigh."
Ain sighed and opened the gate.
It was true that the matter was urgent—Ain conceded that much. And yet… an unshakable feeling of guilt lingered.
Probably because of what she was about to deliver, starting now.
6:15 in the morning. At an hour most would call absurdly early, an unexpected guest had arrived.
"Ahem. It's been a while, hasn't it."
"…Not nearly as long as you're implying."
"Bah, sour as ever. It's only proper to greet one's elders warmly when they come calling."
So she does know she's old. Outwardly she looked… about middle-school-aged, if anything.
"You're having an impolite thought right now, aren't ye."
"…How can you possibly read that from my face too?"
"Kyahahaha! At your level, a face says everything!"
Setting all that aside, though—
was there any reason for Freya to show up here at this particular moment?
Strictly speaking, a few things came to mind, but none of them seemed worth coming in person for.
First—the matter of Liberation, which had infiltrated the Craftsmen's Union. The investigation had been running for a while now; she might have turned something up. But… if she'd actually gotten a lead, she would have summoned him rather than come herself.
Second—Choi Jeong-hyeon's prosthetic arm. An upgrade, or a discovered flaw… could that have brought her here? No, too soon. Freya wasn't the type to grind that hard on development.
And third—
"Are you doing anything for Chuseok?"
"Eh? How'd ye know?"
"It's obvious."
Lee Jun ushered the two of them into the living room and slipped into the kitchen to prepare drinks. Ginger tea for Freya, instant coffee mix for Ain. They weren't invited guests, but basic hospitality was basic hospitality.
He set the two cups on the table and took his seat. Now, then—time to hear why she'd actually come.
Freya lifted her ginger tea, took a moment to smell it, and spoke.
"Ahem. This makes the third time I've marked this country's harvest festival."
"That'd be the second, technically."
"Why are ye striking the first one? It counts."
"Anyway."
Having said her piece, Freya downed the ginger tea in one gulp and pressed on.
"So today I thought I'd come deliver my holiday greetings myself. Well? Shall ye hear my well-wishes?"
"I'll pass on that. Aren't you burning your tongue?"
"…A little."
Lee Jun pulled a bottle of ice water out of his Pocket and handed it over. Freya gulped that down too, then set the empty bottle on the table with a clack.
"And besides. There's also the real matter at hand."
Just as I thought. The sudden shift in her demeanor said there really was something.
"But before we get to that."
"……?"
Click—Wmmm—
Freya produced a switch from her pocket and pressed it. At once, something like a black membrane unfurled around the three of them, sealing them in.
Device still humming, Freya flashed a sly grin and added, "I don't care for being watched, see."
Ah, that. Even the head of the Tech Bureau wouldn't be up and about at this hour—no, wait. The girl lived with her days and nights completely inverted. By her clock, it was the dead of night right about now.
But what could she possibly need to say that required this much precaution?
"Ye remember what I told ye before, don't ye."
"The spy, you mean?"
"That's the one. I went looking for clues."
"Then why not just call me instead of coming in person?"
"That's… the thing. A problem's come up."
Freya put on an expression of mild distress. What followed was entirely outside his expectations.
"The Union is holding a Chuseok event right now."
"An event? I thought that wasn't something you did alone—the whole Union's involved?"
"Aye. And because of it, everything's in an uproar. The plans we had prepared have gone sideways."
An event…
To be sure, the Magic Craftsmen Union holding a festival was rare. No—rare wasn't the word. It had never happened. Not once. The Union simply wasn't that kind of open organization to begin with.
And now that place was suddenly throwing a party?
"That does seem strange."
"Right? There's never been any will to do anything—not for Lunar New Year, not for Christmas, nothing."
"So you suspect whoever initiated it?"
"Nay. If it were that simple, I'd have handled it at my level."
Then what was it? More than one instigator?
"Aye. A bit of trouble came our way, and the mood it stirred snowballed into this whole event."
"Trouble, you say…"
"The auction collapsed, didn't it? And now the ones who listed goods there are whining that their pieces never sold properly, so they demand we hold a fair."
"…That's hardly what an auction house exists for."
"Well, for those lads it does happen to be the finest gallery there is, so."
In other words—that.
Liberation had terrorized the auction house, and because the auction never ran its full course, listings that never even went under the hammer were left stranded. Items that had sold but failed to clear would be one thing; this, they apparently couldn't stomach.
In that case, there was exactly one prime suspect.
"Whoever first proposed the fair is likely the spy."
"Under most circumstances, I'd have thought the same."
That meant the odds were lower than he assumed. And the question was answered from the other side of the table.
"I was the one who brought it up first."
It was Ain who said it.
The odds of her being the spy… well, effectively zero.
Then should he be looking at whoever piled onto that suggestion?
"That was me."
"…I'm sorry, what? The two of you?"
"It struck me as a perfect opportunity, see."
An opportunity.
He could roughly see where this was going. Even the notoriously closed-off Craftsmen's Union would see outsiders coming and going during an event like this. Freya intended to engineer that very situation and sweep the spies out in one stroke.
The only question was whether they'd handle things sloppily enough to take the bait…
"Chuseok is exactly one week away. With that little prep time, I don't think they'd gamble on it."
Liberation's Liberators were exceptionally careful operators. The odds of them throwing reckless dice were low.
Or so he thought—
"Nay. We're not holding it on Chuseok."
"I'm sorry?"
"The 23rd. That's when it's planned."
The 23rd? October 23rd? Chuseok falls on October 6th, though?
"…Then why on earth is it called a Chuseok event?"
"A name's whatever ye slap on it."
"……."
It's an absolute mess.
Though if that messiness was fitting for the Craftsmen's Union… well, it was fitting. That place was a mess, after all.
"Haah… Fine. All right. Whatever you say. But then you do have a plan, right?"
"This body has devised a few methods. But I want that head of yours thrown into the mix as well—that's why I've come."
"You're asking for my help, then."
"In a manner of speaking."
Lee Jun didn't really have a choice here. If he wanted to keep Liberation in check, helping was the right call. He couldn't let them run free, so refusing was off the table.
And the 23rd meant… there was plenty of time. Besides, he had no real reason to decline anyway.
"All right."
"Aye, thought as much."
"When you say it like that, it makes me not want to help."
"Kyahaha, don't be like that. I've even prepared a gift for ye, just for today."
"A gift?"
At that, Freya drew the hammer she always wore at her hip.
And then—
before he knew it, she was standing on the table, swinging the hammer straight down onto Lee Jun's chest.
"……?!"
"So ye've been raising something strange in that heart of yours."
"Ghk—!"
"Hold still. I'll lend ye a hand."
Those were the last words he heard—
and Lee Jun lost consciousness amid a searing wave of pain.
Clatter—
The water bottle on the table tumbled to the floor. Through the haze of that scene, Ain took a slow sip of her coffee.
Slurp—