Chapter 176: Observation (3)
Chapter 176: Observation (3)
Reutern II was a meticulous and calculating man.
A wolf in the guise of a pig, hiding a cruel nature beneath a soft, rounded exterior.
That was the only way Grossman could think of him now.
In the lead-up to the confirmation of the Minister of Commerce, every eye and ear in the Imperial Palace—even Grossman’s own shadows—had been fixed on Reutern II’s every move.
But the man had shown nothing. There had been no prelude, no secret meetings, no whispers.
On the contrary, his daily routine was borderline idiotic. It was so monotonous that the spies assigned to him eventually grew bored.
He would wander around looking for famous restaurants under the guise of an "external inspection," lock himself in the library claiming to study only to drool on the desk, and doze off in his chair while supposedly watching an opera. It was a repetitive cycle of days spent killing time in the most meaningless ways possible.
It was the same indolent life Reutern II had always displayed at the Imperial Palace, but then, at some point… everything changed.
The transcript of the Closed Hearing was leaked from the Imperial Library.
Everyone in the palace believed it was Reutern’s doing, and the direct agencies conducted a thorough background check on him, but no physical evidence was ever found.
To this day, Grossman still couldn’t figure out how the man had managed to smuggle the document out of that high-security archive, nor how he had distributed so many copies so quickly.
“Hah…”
Grossman lit a cigar, sinking deep into thought.
The sheer audacity required to orchestrate a false flag operation to dismiss Julius, a pillar of the royal family. The cunning to evade countless watchers as if mocking them while stealing a state secret from the heart of the Imperial Palace.
Therefore, Reutern II’s reason for accepting this meeting had to be highly political. And that raised many questions.
Why would that cunning man insist on having Kents Bertem present?
Why, of all places, did he choose an external location like Lilac Vita?
It felt as if every move he made held a hidden meaning… yet Grossman couldn't begin to guess his intentions.
“…I cannot fathom what he truly wants.”
Grossman had always tracked a person’s essence through their desires.
What did they thirst for? What did they covet? He operated under the belief that no one was without greed, and he would seize that greed like a leash to lead them.
But it didn’t work on Reutern II.
Reutern was different from anyone he had ever encountered.
He was an entirely new type of enemy—one who indulgently and endlessly projected shallow desires, perfectly concealing his true intentions behind a facade of carelessness.
It might be far easier to send an assassin to take the man’s head and deal with the fallout than to engage in this convoluted battle of wits.
For the first time in his life, Grossman, a man who prided himself on the elegance of his politics, felt a genuine murderous impulse.
*
Meanwhile, Reutern II was lying on a sofa.
In his private chambers, having given strict orders not to be disturbed, he’d been studying a book on military strategy and had intended to rest for just a moment—a very brief moment.
“…Snore.”
He had fallen asleep without even realizing it.
“Kkhhhhaaaaaa—”
A loud snore echoed through the room.
“Kaaahhhk—”
*
One day at the Sentinel Knights headquarters.
An official notice arrived from the Imperial Palace. It was a clear order to halt the Knights’ investigation into Mason Industries.
“…Interesting.”
I smiled.
Mason Industries still held considerable influence. Perhaps the Emperor was impressed by their recent achievements. After all, their fall in the future only happened after they had lost all utility following the Outcast incident.
“…?”
Just then, a gaze brushed against my back.
It felt as if something—or someone—was watching me.
When I reflexively turned around, the sensation snapped and vanished.
“…”
It was a strange sense of déjà vu.
I tried to focus on my paperwork again, but then it occurred to me.
“Wait.”
I had felt something similar the day I visited the T24 Laboratory.
Frowning, I searched my memory until a name flashed through my mind.
One of the characters from Outcast. A cartoonist with the supernatural ability of clairvoyance. In other words, the original author of Outcast, ‘Filty.’
If the real-life Filty’s ability was the same as in the comic… could it be that she had started watching me because of the recent incident at T24?
“Hmm.”
But I had no time to worry about such things right now. They had no direct way of reaching me anyway, and more importantly, now was the time to temper the Knights and forge them into a cohesive unit.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and stagnant water is bound to rot.
The arrogant first-years, who had just completed their initial year, and the fourth and fifth-years, who had grown complacent and learned only how to cut corners, were slowly becoming the festering wounds of the Sentinels.
There were many who were hardly knights at all, lacking Cliff’s exceptional skill and driven only by private greed. Worse, the first-years from Hannah’s cohort were mostly substandard, having been produced in a lax environment before the rules at Empire Point were tightened.
Tap, tap.
I straightened the documents on my desk. Tucking the stack under my arm, I left my office and climbed the stairs to the vice-commander’s office.
Knock, knock.
Upon opening the door, the first thing I saw was a reception desk. Chiron’s office had gained an additional layer of formality and bureaucracy.
“This way.”
An aide guided me to the main office. We passed four more administrative rooms along the way; Chiron was in the largest office at the end of the hall.
“…Max. What is it?”
The space, which had originally belonged to Anton, still retained some of his traces. This was especially true of the taxidermied Madness Moose mounted above the fireplace, which Anton had supposedly hunted himself.
“Sometimes, symbols like this are important.”
Chiron, noticing my gaze, gestured toward the moose with a small smile.
“There’s no need to earn ill will by erasing all traces of my predecessor. I thought it would be fine to leave this much.”
He had certainly grown compared to before the regression. Above all, the impatience that had once gnawed at him was gone. It was likely because he no longer needed to beg for power by colluding with the Imperial Guard.
“Vice-Commander. Here is the audit report.”
I handed him the documents. Chiron took them, his expression turning serious as he flipped through the pages.
“…There are quite a few problematic knights.”
“Yes.”
Those who took bribes from specific corporations. Those who profited personally by steering retrials in their favor. Those who abused their authority to exploit civilians. Those who took bribes to turn a blind eye to the enforcement of the Imperial Citizenship Act.
The case of a first-year noble knight who had demanded absurd discounts and forced sponsorships from a luxury goods store was particularly astounding.
“The reason I forgave Knight Cliff was not solely because he is a Sentinel.”
Where there is power, flies are bound to swarm. When you wear the uniform, people treat you with the utmost respect just for walking down the street. It is easy for that to go to one's head.
But that is precisely why I am here.
That is why I continuously spend my fortune.
I have no intention of leaving any of my wealth behind by the time this war is over, and that very premise is the source of my strength.
“A Sentinel is ultimately a Sentinel, but to be one, they must first be qualified.”
The stronger the Knights’ authority becomes, the closer it gets to being absolute, the more they must prove themselves worthy of it. Before demanding better treatment and status, they must first understand and practice the ‘Will of the Empire.’
“A Sentinel must possess a dignity befitting their station and recognize that they are the sharpest sword protecting the Empire.”
A knight who, blinded by personal greed, brings harm to the Empire will never be tolerated.
The only thing a knight should lead to victory is the war, and the only necks they should be severing are those of the enemy forces and Izenheim.
“A clear awareness of their duty will lead to a proper sense of pride.”
“…”
Chiron stared intently at my audit report, then nodded.
“Only a Sentinel can punish another Sentinel.”
It was sound logic.
—Thud!
The new vice-commander’s seal came down.
From that day on, eleven first-years, two second-years, three fourth-years, and four fifth-years were referred to the disciplinary committee. Those whose offenses were relatively minor received pay cuts for three to six months, while those with heavier infractions were suspended for a year. The four knights whose transgressions were the most severe were mercilessly dismissed and permanently stripped of their knighthood.
In addition, a large notice bearing a red seal was posted in the Knights’ hallway.
[ Notice of Internal Audit Results ]
* Pay Cut: 10 individuals
* Suspension: 8 individuals
* Dismissal: 4 individuals
I didn’t bother to list their names. There was no need to inflict an excessive amount of shame. Furthermore, I did not consider social status in the disciplinary selection. In fact, there were more nobles than commoners on the list.
Some of the families of the dismissed or suspended knights, who held political connections, approached Vice-Commander Chiron, but he refused them with a single sentence:
“This is entirely under the purview of the internal audit; it is not a matter in which I can interfere.”
He passed all responsibility to the head of the audit—to me—but not a single noble came to me in person to plead for clemency.
No, it would be more accurate to say they didn’t dare.
In noble society, no family held more power than Ebenholtz. There might be a few who were equals, but the only person who could definitively be called superior was the Emperor himself.
*
Spring, a season of many new beginnings.
Lorenzo Academy completed the prototype for a low-cost radio to be distributed free of charge to all citizens of the Empire, and Johann Georg Goetze finally completed his doctoral program.
[ Imperial Central University Graduation Ceremony ]
In the grand auditorium of Imperial Central University, bathed in the warm spring sunlight, the hall was filled with congratulatory bouquets and excited laughter as the university president’s voice rang out.
“—Next is the recipient of the doctoral degree. Johann Georg Goetze.”
I sat in the front row, watching Johann ascend the stage.
I was surrounded by the most influential figures in the Empire. Not only university deans, but also high-ranking generals, members of the House of Nobles, and even, in the seat right next to me, Lieutenant General Litruman, the headmaster of Empire Point.
“Is that young man the famous author of Baltaras?” Litruman asked, watching Johann with interest.
“Yes. He is a most remarkable intellect.”
I made sure to imprint Johann’s face upon Litruman and the surrounding nobles.
He was the talent who would soon enter politics and become the head of the propaganda department, controlling the thoughts of the masses as the Empire's trumpeter. It was essential to plant his presence in the minds of the Empire’s powerful figures now.
“Johann.”
I called to him as he came down from the stage. He approached me, his face somewhat tense.
“Sir Maximilian. Thank you for coming.”
As Johann politely thanked me, the nobles around us naturally turned their attention to him.
“Oh, so you’re Johann. The author of Baltaras.”
“I didn’t realize such a celebrity was here.”
This was how connections were forged. People in key Imperial positions, including Lieutenant General Litruman, spoke with Johann, committing his name and face to memory.
Just as I was watching their conversation, my terminal vibrated in my pocket. After checking the message, I stood up.
“Well then, I must be going. I have urgent business to attend to.”
Litruman and the surrounding nobles looked as if they already knew the reason.
“Ah. Right, today’s the day.”
“I heard there’s a very important meeting at Lilac Vita today.”
“It’s not every day that someone of that stature from the Imperial Palace comes out…”
The meeting between Grossman, the real power in the Imperial Palace, and the suddenly prominent Reutern II. The rumor had already spread throughout the Empire’s upper echelons. Everyone was pretending not to know, but they were all on high alert for any potential friction.
“Yes. Well then.”
*
For one day, Lilac Vita was reserved entirely for just two people. Sentinel Knights and Imperial Guards were stationed throughout the streets, and the restaurant's interior had been thoroughly swept by the Imperial Palace's direct agencies.
“…”
“…”
And so, at last, the two men sat facing each other.
Grossman watched Reutern II quietly. Reutern II’s gaze, on the other hand, was already fixed on the food.
However, it wasn’t just the two of them. As Reutern had wished, Kents Bertem had joined them.
“Go on, eat. It’s going to be delicious. Kents! You eat too.”
Reutern was the first to encourage them. Grossman also smiled leisurely, cutting a piece of veal tenderloin topped with caviar.
“…Mm.”
The taste was, indeed, excellent. It was good enough to understand why the nobles of the Imperial Palace were desperate for a reservation.
Reutern glanced at Kents Bertem beside him.
“Kents. I told you to eat. It’s your first time here, isn’t it?”
“…”
Kents Bertem had been seething from the moment he sat down. He found both Reutern’s arrogant attitude and the situation of being treated as a mere sidekick unbearable. Nevertheless, he suppressed his anger and picked up his knife.
He cut a piece of meat, put it in his mouth, and as he chewed… his eyes trembled.
It’s insanely delicious. A sublime flavor I’ve never experienced in my life.
“Hmph.”
Reutern snorted at Kents’s reaction. Grossman wiped his mouth with a napkin and gently began.
“Prince Reutern seems to have been quite busy lately—”
“Ah, lately? Well, I’ve been studying military strategy, you see. Has the rumor already spread that far?”
Military strategy. At that word, Grossman’s eyes narrowed slightly.
For some time now, Reutern had been talking about military strategy. It was undoubtedly a move made in anticipation of the future war. It was a display of ambition, showing that he wasn't content with just ousting Julius and building his own royal faction, but now intended to involve himself in military affairs.
“What are your thoughts on the newly established position of Minister of Commerce? You seemed to have many complaints.”
This was Grossman’s main point. With his fork still in his mouth, Reutern replied nonchalantly.
“Ah, well. It doesn’t really matter to me. I was just wondering if there’s really a need to control the Knights? They seem to be doing just fine on their own.”
Grossman smiled faintly and nodded, but Kents Bertem, unable to hold back, interjected.
“The blades of those Knights will one day—no, they will inevitably be turned toward the Imperial Palace. Are you pretending not to know, or do you truly not know?”
It was Kents Bertem’s characteristic tone—patronizing, acting as if he were the only one who knew anything. It was the type of person Reutern despised most, the kind that subtly bruised his pride.
“…What are you talking about?”
Reutern’s knife stopped. His plump complexion suddenly turned icy. He stared at Kents and replied with a look of pure innocence.
“That’s just what you think.”
Simultaneously, he turned his gaze to Grossman.
“Chief Secretary, do you think like him?”
“…”
Grossman merely offered a small smile.
“Aww, no way. C’mon, tell me. I’m right, aren’t I? This guy just keeps thinking whatever he wants.”
When Grossman gave a slight nod, Reutern muttered, “See, what did I tell you,” and aimed his knife at Kents.
“Hey, that’s been your problem since we were kids. You keep forcing your thoughts on other people. And then you act like everything you think is right.”
“What the—”
“You can’t read the room, you have no tact. Just eat your food. It’s the Chief Secretary’s first time at Lilac Vita, too.”
Reutern II was in a good mood. He was simply having a grand time refuting Kents’s every word and openly putting him down.
But Grossman, hiding his emotions, was lost in thought.
He’s trying to make me open my mouth. He’s demanding clear words, and above all… he’s prodding at the relationships.
Relationships. The links between people. The point where the most sensitive dynamics in politics arise.
“That’s been your problem since you were little. You think whatever you want, and you throw a fit whenever you want. Geez. When are you going to grow up?”
Reutern’s grating words continued. To Kents, it felt as if his skin were being scraped away by a wood planer. But he knew he had been fooled by the man’s way of speaking for far too long. Therefore, he forced himself to grow calm. He would not give the man the satisfaction of a reaction.
At that, Reutern’s gaze snapped away.
“What do you think, Chief Secretary?”
“…Let’s eat first.”
Grossman picked up his wine glass instead. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts.
Reutern was certainly not an easy opponent. But there was no reason to overreact. One should not grant an enemy an unnecessary narrative. He would simply see him as he was and deal with him without letting his guard down.
But Reutern’s tongue did not stop. This time, he looked at Kents and muttered.
“Anyway, Kents, your mouth is always the problem. That’s why this time, because of your mouth… oops, sorry.”
His mouth. A clear reference to the leaked transcript.
A vein bulged on the back of Kents’s hand.