Chapter 165: The Search (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 165: The Search (2)
On the way back to the Robrus Hotel after finishing our meal, the air inside the car had settled, feeling even heavier than it had at the restaurant.
"Were you serious when you spoke of harmony?" Yelena suddenly asked, withdrawing her gaze from the window.
I answered briefly. "Yes. I was."
She tried her best to hide the scoff threatening to curl her lips. "So, you truly came here for diplomacy."
I smiled without a word.
She seemed to think harmony itself was impossible. It only proved how oblivious even the upper echelons were to the looming signs of the 'Great Purge.' Yet, quietly and with absolute certainty, a storm of blood was approaching.
"What kind of person is People's Commissar for Internal Affairs Zerof?" I asked, changing the subject.
There were about a dozen individuals holding the title of 'Commissar for Internal Affairs' in Eastern Robrus. Yelena was one of them, and together they constituted the core power that intervened in all state affairs.
"A Commissar for Internal Affairs and, among us, the head of the police force. Other than that, he is exactly what you saw with your own eyes, Sir Knight."
Yelena didn't hide the strange sense of displeasure she felt toward Zerof. It made sense. Zerof was a man without a background—a "rolling stone" who had just wandered in. To her, he was a rat who had scurried his way into the General Secretary’s favor through flattery and political maneuvering. For a member of a legitimate, orthodox family, seeing such a bastard wielding real power and acting arrogant was intolerable.
"Tomorrow, Commissar Zerof will likely be the one receiving you."
In truth, before my regression, Zerof was treated no differently than an Imperial war criminal. He was even featured in The Genealogy of Villains, an expert column published in the Republic after the fall. The sentence scholars used to describe his life was as follows:
A villain defined by a parasitic dependence on the powerful, driven by an insatiable thirst for recognition and a pathological need to flaunt his status—a byproduct of his own deep-seated insecurities.
"He didn't exactly leave a good impression," I remarked.
Yelena chuckled, appearing to agree completely.
Meanwhile, the car arrived at the hotel lobby.
"Then please rest well, Sir Maximilian."
"I shall."
I parted ways with Yelena. Guided by the manager, I went up to the top floor. The entire penthouse was my suite.
"...Is this how they treat state guests?"
I felt like I was being treated well, but there was no way that was actually the case. As I took off my coat, I thoroughly scanned the mana flow inside the room. Surprisingly, I sensed no magical bugs or wiretaps. Even Ebenholtz's mana did not catch any impure wavelengths or traces.
However, rather than assuming there was no surveillance, it was more likely that it was extremely clever.
I took out a small mana plate from my inner pocket and set it down. It worked on a principle similar to a voice recorder, playing back pre-recorded sounds.
— Haa. I'm tired. I should wash up and go straight to sleep.
It was meant to fill the room with the sounds of everyday life, arranged by time slots.
Swaaaah—.
I took a shower and changed my clothes. I disguised my identity, shifting my features to black hair and blue eyes, and cloaked my entire body in Ebenholtz's mana to completely erase my presence. Then, I stepped onto the windowsill and silently threw myself out.
Whooooosh—!
Leaping from the penthouse floor of a hotel was less of a jump and more of a 'descent.' The wind felt like it would freeze my blood, but I moved through it silently, landing in a back alley of the Robrus capital.
Tap.
My heart pounded the moment I landed. As expected, there were quite a few Izenheims here. A much greater number of them than in the Empire were swarming like parasites throughout the veins of this nation.
"......"
Suddenly, a feeling of desolation washed over me. I have to kill this many of them. I have to eradicate them from this continent, from the world. An almost limitless slaughter—that was the purpose of my regression, the grand cause of humanity's survival...
"Sir."
From the corner of a dark alley, Schatz walked out.
"Have you secured the base?"
"Yes."
The route was by land. If we were to escape the capital of Robrus, walking out was our only option.
"Then, let's go."
Because the Great Purge was one of the most dangerous events I had ever experienced, I planned to do a little rehearsal.
*
Robrus, the Führer's secret room.
Beyond a desk cast in deep shadows, Zerof detailed the conversation he had with Maximilian.
— ...Is that so.
Führer Varmil Maxtoon's voice, flowing from the darkness, was as heavy as a lump of iron.
"Yes, Your Excellency." Zerof nodded gravely. "An Imperial knight has come all the way here babbling about harmony. It must mean they desire it as well. It would be perfect if we could exploit their impatience to gain an advantage, however..."
The Empire intended to wage war. They wanted to strike the West and expand their territory. The reasons and justifications—honestly, it was hard to find any reason in it. It was simply the whim of a mad Emperor.
"In my personal opinion, I believe they have crawled in at a truly opportune time."
To wage war, internal unity is paramount. The Empire was clearly walking on eggshells around the East to avoid a full-scale war with the Eastern Union while they struck the West. But in Zerof's view, the West's military strength wasn't something the Empire could afford to take lightly.
— What are your thoughts?
"I suggest we proceed with negotiations in the form of a 'secret pact' first."
A secret pact—the best diplomatic tool to deceive and trick one another.
"If we form a secret pact, the Imperial bastards will be assured of their rear's safety. They will pour all their troops into the Western front and fall deep into the quagmire of war."
He was proposing to wait for the war between the Empire and the Western Union to drag out, eating away at both sides' strength.
"In the meantime, we will thoroughly purge the internal opposition and hone our military forces. When they are at their most exhausted and vulnerable..." Zerof's eyes flashed coldly. "We will bite their necks."
— ......
The Führer was silent for a while. The silence heavily crushed the space, but Zerof accepted it as a sign of affirmation.
— You said that Maximilian is the architect of the 'Imperial Citizenship Act'. The Führer quietly brought up a new topic. — Lately, there are rumors circulating that I am a Sub-species.
A very disturbing rumor was circulating in the political circles of the Eastern Union. A terrible, blasphemous rumor—one that was horrifying to even utter—claiming that Varmil, the General Secretary of Robrus himself, was an Izenheim.
"It is nothing more than a petty rumor spread by reactionaries who envy Your Excellency's power," Zerof firmly dismissed it, his voice thick with murderous intent. "That is why the timing is truly perfect. The opportunity has come to hunt down and purge every single person who speaks such blasphemy..."
*
Maximilian arrived at the 'Winter Palace,' the heart of Robrus that still retained the splendor of the old imperial era. This magnificent fortress, where the remnants of the former Emperors lingered in every corner, had now become the residence of General Secretary Varmil and the governing headquarters of the Eastern Union.
"...Treat him with the utmost respect." Zerof adjusted his attire.
According to the rumors he had heard, he had removed all his expensive wristwatches. He also cleared out minorities like the Izenheims and Merins from the palace to avoid any potential friction.
"No matter how blood-crazed a lunatic of the Empire he may be, he is still a state guest."
— Click. Clack.
Just then, the rhythmic sound of footsteps echoing on the marble caused everyone to turn.
"...He's coming. How can someone look like that?"
His appearance was completely detached from the violent actions and words he had exhibited both inside and outside the Empire. He looked every bit the noble—a figure that made some marvel at him as the idol of Aran, while making others grind their teeth in envy.
Maximilian von Ebenholtz.
His entrance was undeniably aloof and flawless. He was so impeccably formal, without a single speck of dust, that it bordered on the surreal.
"You've arrived." Zerof greeted him along with his aides. "Welcome, Sir Maximilian."
"Yes. It is an honor to meet you again, Commissar Zerof."
Maximilian politely gave a slight bow and sat opposite Zerof. The two smiled, teacups placed between them.
"Well then." Zerof shot a glance at his aides. They vacated the room in an instant.
This kind of unified obedience, stemming merely from his gaze, brought Zerof a great sense of euphoria.
"I would like to have a slightly... deeper conversation about the meaning of the 'harmony' between the Empire and the Eastern Union that you mentioned yesterday, Sir," Zerof opened the conversation, intentionally assuming a weighty tone.
Maximilian calmly nodded. "Let us do so."
Zerof wasn't entirely pleased by his relaxed demeanor, but he didn't let it show.
"I've given it a lot of thought. However... if you think about it realistically, don't you think harmony is quite difficult given the current confrontation between our two nations?"
For a moment, his tongue tripped over the Imperial language. Zerof frowned. It was an unnecessarily complex and difficult language, but it couldn't be helped. He couldn't bring an interpreter to discuss a secret pact.
"...Well."
At that moment, Zerof's eyes went wide at the words that flowed from Maximilian's mouth.
"I don't think it's difficult at all."
This sentence was not in the Imperial language.
"...You—you speak Loer?"
The Robrus language. Shortened to Loer, it was the unofficial lingua franca of the Eastern Union.
"Yes. I've taken the time to learn it. But right now, more importantly than that..." Maximilian set his teacup down and continued in a low voice. "Harmony."
His gaze pierced through Zerof.
"The core message the Empire wishes to convey to Robrus through this proposal is that, first, we should eliminate our common enemies."
"Common enemies... Sir Knight, have you not gone out onto the streets of Robrus? Every citizen is criticizing the 'Imperial Citizenship Act'."
Maximilian smiled. "Yes. On the surface, they probably make a lot of noise. But Commissar Zerof, aren't you fiercely agreeing with certain parts of it deep down?"
Zerof furrowed his brow. Maximilian leaned forward.
"The money-crazed, parasitic cult known as the Izenheim that sucks the lifeblood out of the continent. And besides them, the Sub-species and ethnic minorities who refuse to cooperate with society. This 'oppression' of ours has a very long and profound history."
"The international community calls that racial discrimination."
Zerof tried to refute it with feigned decency, but Maximilian shot back coldly.
"I would actually like to ask you instead, Commissar. If there were an Izenheim among your colleagues or direct superiors... would you be able to tolerate keeping them by your side?"
Maximilian's words were heavy with meaning. However, Zerof already knew why this had been brought up. He smiled leisurely.
"...It seems Commissar Yelena relayed 'that rumor' to you."
The Adversaries Yelena commanded—some of them already belonged to Zerof. Therefore, every conversation Maximilian and Yelena had shared was already in Zerof's possession.
"......"
Maximilian fell silent for a moment as if grasping the underlying meaning, then murmured as he nodded. "Indeed, you are a big shot, just as I've heard."
A big shot.
It was just a single phrase, but the voice carried a genuine astonishment, free of any pretense. A high-and-mighty great noble of the Empire, a flawless knight with the halo of the Ebenholtz family, was acknowledging him—someone who grew up on the streets—as a 'big shot.'
"Well..."
Zerof's heart pounded. An indescribable sense of accomplishment wrapped around him. The past days, when he rolled in the dirt at the bottom of the social ladder, flashed past, but there was no time for reminiscing. He tried hard to suppress his surging sense of superiority as he cleared his throat.
"Ahem. That is not the case. There is only one true big shot in the East." He hardened his expression once more. "However, if it is 'just as you've heard'... am I known in the Empire as well?"
The phrase 'just as I've heard' had caught in Zerof's mind. He was curious if his name had reached the Empire, and if so, in what form.
"Of course. Rumors of the East spread quite well in the Empire. Robrus is a large country, after all."
Zerof sipped his tea, pretending to be uninterested.
"But sitting face to face and conversing with you today, it seems you are far beyond those rumors."
"Hmm. Is that so? Far beyond the rumors..."
"Yes. If I had to express it in a single phrase." Maximilian looked him over with intrigue. Even that gaze didn't feel bad. In fact, it felt good. "'The sharpest sword'."
The sharpest sword.
Zerof set his teacup down. Breathing sharply, he leaned back in his chair.
"......"
Maximilian stared intently at Zerof. The man was absolutely eating it up.
Diplomacy is a grand affair between nations, but ultimately, it is conducted by people. Therefore, what matters is always the person.
"The sharpest sword..."
According to the Genealogy of Villains, the man named Zerof had an extremely severe need for recognition. Because of that, he was a man who would kill ten thousand when killing a thousand would suffice, and ultimately slaughter a million humans just to prove his worth.
"What does that mean?" Zerof asked, pretending to be offended.
"There is a proverb in the Empire: 'If you draw your sword, you must at least cut a radish.'" Maximilian's gaze locked onto Zerof's. "However, the General Secretary of Robrus holds you—the sharpest sword. Surely it must be to cut down something."
"......"
Zerof leaned deep into his chair. He was a quick-witted man. If the Führer held Zerof—the famous blade—and did not swing it at an external enemy, the place that blade would be pointed was all too obviously inward.
"...Hah."
Since when had he noticed? Since Zerof rose to a key position? Or since Yelena relayed that bullshit rumor? Did he realize the possibility of a secret pact succeeding that way and come to personally conduct the diplomacy?
Zerof smiled faintly and took out a high-end pipe, biting the stem.
"Then, let me ask you one more thing." He could no longer hold back his boiling curiosity. "To you... no, how am I perceived in the Empire? Specifically speaking."
Maximilian quietly observed Zerof, who licked his lips excitedly and blew out a cloud of smoke.
"Has my name perhaps been featured in books or newspaper articles?"
Diplomacy is politics, and politics is the act of suppressing nausea over and over again. Enduring the nausea to gild a bastard like this—I could do that any number of times.
Only for the grand cause of humanity...
Maximilian let the corners of his mouth curl up.