Chapter 174: Observation
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 174: Observation
Glossy paper. A space divided by rectangular panels. Exaggerated scenes and speech-bubble dialogue, all brought to life by multicolored ink.
──KRA-KOOOOM!
Within the comic book, the Mason Industries building was collapsing. Debris scattered. Far below the crumbling structure, a woman was plummeting.
[ Elze: ……Meden! ]
It was Elze, the protagonist of Outcast. She cried out for Meden, her hand reaching into the empty air. Her platinum-blonde hair whipped about, and her blue eyes glittered as if imbued with mana.
[ Meden: Elze! ]
The other protagonist, Meden, pushed off mid-fall to grasp Elze’s hand. They embraced and landed safely on the street below.
But their joy was short-lived.
[ Falkenrat: Haha. ]
From the heart of that pandemonium, Falkenrat, the final boss of the Outcast: Mason Industries Arc, made his appearance.
──THUD!
With half his body replaced by machinery, he landed right before them.
[ Falkenrat: You’re a useful one. ]
A static distortion bled into his lines. He had eyes where even the whites were blood-red. His legs were replaced with mana stones and steel. A puff of exhaust escaped with every breath.
Facing such a grotesque creature, Meden actually smiled.
[ Meden: Of course I’m useful. I’m about to blow your head off, after all. ]
—Ooh...
Before my regression, the "me" in my memories had marveled at this scene, a thrill shooting up my spine.
—You like it?
The homeless man next to me chuckled. We were in a corner of the subway.
—…Ahem.
I put the comic down, trying to act nonchalant.
—Just keep reading, kid. Who are you trying to impress?
At his words, I sheepishly picked it back up.
Outcast: The Mason Industries Raid.
It was the highlight sequence where Mason Industries’ private forces kidnap Elze, and Meden and the rest of the Outcast crew charge in to rescue her. It was the golden age for a comic that had been a massive success in the Republic.
—That one’s good, right? I’ve got the next volume. Want to borrow it?
—…I would appreciate that.
—Heh heh. What a funny guy.
Back then, I wandered the streets, reading comics people had thrown away. Sometimes, I even stole them. I still had a bit of the physical ability from my days as a knight.
—Here, take it.
—…Thank you.
It was a life on the run, never knowing when I might be caught, but… well. Strangely, I was able to smile with true purity back then.
—They say it’s based on a true story from a long time ago. What do you think?
More than my time as a knight, broken and crushed by Zebestian; more than today, when I strive for humanity's grand ambition; that time, when I had nothing and had lost everything…
…might have been when I was most free.
“—Hey!”
I snapped my eyes open. Someone was standing right in front of me.
“Wow. Max, you still have that habit of napping in the afternoon? I thought you’d changed everything about yourself.”
It was Ezel. I frowned and sat up. Ever since fusing with the virus, my body had become more robust than ever, but sleep was still an important mental respite.
“What is it? Why are you here?”
“……Are you losing your mind? The Magic Tower sent an official notice saying I was coming today.”
Ezel clicked her tongue and pulled out a thick file.
“Here. The analysis you asked for.”
The Cliff incident. Ezel, who had at some point become a high-ranking mage of Sentio, was presenting the results on behalf of the Magic Tower.
“It’s confirmed. That detonator was attached to the condenser. It means Sir Cliff is innocent.”
“Ah. Thanks.”
I took the documents with a smile. Ezel watched me intently, looking like she had more to say.
“What?”
“……”
She hesitated before finally speaking.
“It’s nothing major, but there’s this rumor going around lately… No. I’ll be honest. The Magic Tower has been getting some suspicious contract work.”
I quietly crossed my arms.
“The client is T24, some kind of laboratory. Something’s strange about them. If you look at the details of the work… their intentions seem impure, to say the least.”
“Can’t Sentio just refuse on its own authority?”
“You think I’m the Head of the Magic Tower? They seem to be a big client; even the Tower Head is struggling with them.”
For my part, I found it strangely fascinating. It was exactly as it had been in the comic I once read.
“So. Are you asking me to take on a case?”
“……Knights are the guardians of the Empire, aren’t they? It’s obvious those guys are up to no good, but there’s nothing a mage can do.”
Mason Industries had located the Cross Killer—that is, the Outcast crew. Believing their failed human experiments had actually succeeded, they began outsourcing orders for various equipment to the Magic Tower to resume their research…
That was the introduction to the Outcast: Mason Industries Arc.
“Very well. Public interest report from Mage Ezel Luncelot, received.”
“……Huh?”
I accepted Ezel’s request. I needed a pretext to inspect them more closely anyway.
“I’ll look into it.”
For some reason, I felt like I’d become a character in a comic book.
*
“Thanks.”
In the Vice-Commander’s office of the Sentinel Knights, Jerome stood before Chiron’s desk and bowed his head deeply. Chiron, leaning back into his chair, merely shrugged.
“……”
In truth, Chiron was thinking: Honestly, there’s no reason to thank me.
He had boasted that he would persuade Maximilian regarding Cliff’s case, but before he’d even gone to see him, Maximilian had already forgiven Cliff.
However, there was still one thing. Something about Jerome’s attitude still bothered Chiron.
“……”
So, Chiron said nothing. He just flipped through his documents.
“Ahem.”
Jerome, seeming to belatedly catch on, cleared his throat and spoke again, this time more formally.
“……Thank you, Vice-Commander.”
Only then did Chiron look up from his papers. Of course. They might be the same age, but their positions were different now. Formal language was necessary to maintain the chain of command.
A faint smile touched Chiron’s lips.
“It’s fine, Jerome. The Cliff matter was a Sentinel affair to begin with. Neither the Imperial Palace nor the Imperial Guard had any right to interfere.”
The Sentinels were the sword that served the Empire. Guardians with the sun at their backs, and watchmen who stared into the darkness.
“It was something we had to resolve internally. Well, it was moderately difficult, I’ll admit.”
He added a little embellishment, pretending he’d broken a sweat persuading Maximilian. Such gestures were necessary for managing subordinates.
“Yes. Well, I’ll be on my way.”
“Alright.”
Jerome gave a polite nod and left the office. Chiron rubbed his stiff neck and gazed out the window.
“……I miss Julian.”
That kid was still in the East, trying to achieve what he wanted on his own. He hoped that Julian, like him, would one day get what he desired.
“As for the Imperial Palace…”
Lately, Chiron had been listening to the faint winds blowing from the Imperial Palace. The atmosphere there was unsettling.
“Is Reutern at the center of it?”
The cause was none other than Reutern II. Having suddenly revealed his claws, he was now widely acknowledged as the one who had leaked the transcript of Anton Zefren’s interrogation to the public.
For Chiron, it was a mix of gratitude and caution. It meant Reutern II was a key figure in the Palace’s power structure, one who needed to be watched very carefully…
*
Reutern II was in a good mood these days. It was so damn satisfying to see that bastard Kents Bertem run his mouth off and get knocked out of the running for Minister of Commerce. Anyway, that guy would never be able to crawl his way back up, so Reutern decided to just ignore him and study some military strategy.
Ting—
Another message on his terminal. Even the parchment on his desk was wriggling with magical alerts.
“Ah, dammit. Why is everyone so annoying…”
He’d been getting too many messages lately. Dinner invitations, banquet invitations, solicitations. There were so many that it was overwhelming to accept them all, so he was refusing most of them.
“This is just ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous~”
He guessed—no, there was no need to guess—it was all because of Lilac Vita. The same people who used to say they were too busy when he asked them to hang out were now sucking up to him like this. It was enough to make one lose faith in humanity.
Knock, knock.
“Who is it now? Who is it!” Reutern shouted shrilly. The door opened and his confidant, Bern, entered.
“Your Highness. Chief of Staff Grossman has proposed a meeting.”
“……Huh? That old man?”
Reutern’s brow furrowed slightly. Even for royalty, Grossman was an incredibly difficult person to deal with. The Emperor’s closest aide, an inscrutable old fox. It was hard to rashly refuse a meeting with him.
“Yes, Your Highness. He said he wishes to foster a friendship…”
“Ah, wait. Don’t tell me.” Reutern’s eyes sparkled. “Grossman has never been to Lilac Vita either?”
“……Yes. That is likely the case. The Chief of Staff rarely engages in activities outside the Imperial Palace.”
“……”
Well, now. To think that even Grossman couldn’t resist the temptation of Lilac Vita and was reaching out to him.
“Tell him I accept. I’ll arrange a special table for him.” Reutern lifted his chin arrogantly and added, “Ah, and tell him he can bring that Kents bastard along.”
From the looks of it, Kents’s political career was over. At this rate, he’d die without ever getting a single reservation. With his boundless generosity, Reutern would bestow upon that poor bastard at least one meal.
“……Yes. I will relay the message.”
The merciful Reutern. That was him.
Mwahahaha.
*
In a shabby building in the western part of the Empire, not far from the underground city, I arrived in front of the T24 Laboratory.
Its exterior was plain and the building wasn’t very tall, but it was a den of demons where extremely cruel human experiments were conducted.
“……It’s exactly like the comic.”
Who the hell was that comic artist, and how were they so accurate?
As I tried to enter, a large security guard blocked my way.
“This is a restricted area.”
Without a word, I took out my Sentinel Knight ID and handed it to him. The startled man hastily raised his radio to contact someone, but I didn’t wait. I pushed my way into the lobby.
“H-Hey! Just a moment, Sir Knight!”
Ignoring his flustered voice, I looked around. The first floor, covered in white tiles, looked no different from any other hospital or research facility.
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
Several researchers in white coats and glasses hurried down the stairs.
“……Sir Knight!” The researcher in the lead stood before me, panting for breath. “We are taken aback by your sudden visit. I don’t know your reasons for coming, but this area is legally under strict control. No outside access is permitted. I’m sorry, but please come back after following the proper procedures.”
I looked down at him and shook my head.
“On Imperial soil, there is no law or place that takes precedence over the duties of a Knight.”
The researcher’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me? What does that—”
“It means my word is the law.”
I snatched the ID card hanging from the researcher’s neck.
Manuel, Head Researcher. A future war criminal who would one day be hanged for conducting thousands of human experiments. His excuse—that he was only doing it because the Empire ordered him to, so he was innocent—had been quite famous even before my regression.
“H-Sir Knight! Sir Knight! Please return my ID!”
I walked down the hallway. It was fascinating how it was exactly as it had been in the comic. There was probably a human experimentation lab in the basement, and the above-ground labs would hold various research materials. Research like this, involving life and ethics, only became legal when the Emperor turned a blind eye.
“S-Sir Knight! You can’t go in there! That’s a classified area!”
The researchers, their faces pale, grabbed my arm. I shoved them aside and kicked open the steel door.
BANG!
The inside of the lab was laid bare. Inside a transparent cylinder, red-tinged water and mana stone fragments bubbled together. On the desks, files filled with human anatomy diagrams and chaotically drawn mana circuits were scattered about.
“……Sir Knight!”
“If you continue like this, w-we’ll have no choice but to sue!”
I ignored the clinging researchers and picked up the files. It was a classic Imperial Guard-style rampage.
“Sir Knight!”
“……?”
I paused. I felt like someone was ‘watching’ me.
—That is enough.
A cold voice echoed through the lab. I turned my head toward the sound.
K-thunk. K-thunk.
A shadow walked out from the hallway. For a moment, I felt like I was watching the comic come to life.
“……”
It was the cyborg with an appearance so unrealistic it defied belief: Falkenrat.
K-thunk. K-thunk.
Half his body was made of cold metal and machinery, and blue mana pulsed through every joint. A fusion of human flesh, machine, and mana, he glared at me with a blackened prosthetic eye.
—Knight of the Empire. Are you aware of for whom, and for what great cause, we are working?
His speech was clipped and mechanical. But that was his trademark, so I let it slide.
“Do I need to be?” I threw the bundle of files to the floor and replied nonchalantly.
—…I advise you to state the purpose of your visit clearly.
Sparks flew from Falkenrat’s mechanical arm. He was notorious in the underworld, but I didn’t avoid his gaze. I stared right back at him and answered.
“The Cross Killer.”
The researchers’ shoulders flinched visibly.
“All of his victims were from here, the T24 Laboratory.”
Falkenrat looked down on me. Over two meters tall, he was nearly Zebestian’s size. He was portrayed as the final boss in the comic, and he certainly looked the part.
“But more than that right now.”
However, I wasn’t afraid of this man. I didn’t think I would lose. If anything, he just felt like a lump of iron. I wondered why, and the reason was my own strength.
In every aspect—my status, my background, my power, my authority, and even my own martial prowess that had grown beyond measure—
“I don’t like your attitude.”
I towered over them all.