Chapter 67: Heading to Work
Chapter 67: Heading to Work
As a Knight, I held the authority to access intelligence from the Central Secret Police Bureau. I was barred from highly sensitive matters—those that weren't even recorded on paper—but I was able to obtain information regarding this particular report relatively easily.
The report itself read as follows:
—A person resembling a wanted criminal was spotted at the shop operated by the target; mysterious explosions are heard late at night; and above all, the target is a Yaken, which makes them even more suspicious.—
“...Her name is Yukia Tarik.”
The situation was unfolding similarly to how it had before my regression. The Gigantes terror incident was a high-profile event, covered extensively in special reports, so the names associated with it remained vivid in my memory.
“A Yaken, I see.”
Descendants of ancient beastmen, the Yaken were a sub-species that faced severe discrimination across the continent. Although their population was even smaller than that of the Izenheim, they were the race whose physical traits stood out the most.
Their sharply slanted eyes, high-bridged noses, and features reminiscent of a predator were distinct from any other race in the Empire.
This particular Yaken, Yukia, even had white hair and red eyes.
However, the bald Edmond from before my regression had said this:
‘We held our ground for a while in the beginning thanks to the help of the Yaken. They had the power to stand against the Dimension Eaters...’
Therefore, the Yaken had to become my allies. I had Yukia and her family, who had been detained by the Central Secret Police Bureau, transferred to the Genen Annex under my jurisdiction.
“Do you know why you’ve been brought here?”
I picked up the coded document found in her shop. It bore a faint trace of the mana fluctuations unique to the Izenheim.
It was evidence that an Izenheim was among the Gigantes terrorists, or perhaps among the leadership who had ordered the attack.
“...”
She didn't answer. The single word she had spoken—my name, pronounced with an exotic accent—had been her last.
Unfazed, I pushed another stack of documents toward her.
“Yukia Tarik. I’ve looked into your background.”
It was a transcript from her days at the academy. Her grades were near perfect in almost every subject.
“You were quite talented.”
Despite that, the only reason Yukia Tarik had been expelled from the university was her origin and race.
“A Yaken who immigrated to the Empire. Since you showed elite-level capabilities, there must have been plenty of jealousy and resentment.”
The Empire currently upheld the recently emerged ‘Aran Myth.’
It was a class theory that posited the Aran people as the most noble bloodline at the beginning of time, stacking various Westerners and Easterners below them like a pyramid, and shoving the sub-species into the mud at the very bottom.
It was a pathetic and trivial delusion, yet the wavering Empire leaned on it as a core belief to sustain itself.
“I’m going to ask a few questions now. You may answer, or you may remain silent.”
I picked up the questionnaire. It was the standard manual for dealing with suspected subversives.
“Do you harbor any grievances against the Empire?”
“...”
Staring at the silent Yaken, I thought about her race.
In the doomed future, they had been the hope of humanity.
“Do you possess any books prohibited by the Empire?”
“...”
I didn't know exactly what aspect of the Yaken constituted that hope, but I had to think more deeply about what it meant to be ‘necessary for humanity.’
Conversely, it meant they were not necessary for the Izenheim. And the Izenheim were the type of people who would treat even the Revolutionary Group as expendable for the sake of their grand cause.
“Have you ever joined a subversive organization that threatens the peace of the Empire?”
“...”
Thus, the hypothesis that the Izenheim had informed on her was far more persuasive than the idea that she, a high-ranking member of the Revolutionary Group, had prepared an operation so sloppily that a neighbor could catch her.
“Regarding the Empire, do you...”
She remained silent through all my questions, and I eventually set the paper down.
I marked every box as [No].
In the Empire, the right to remain silent wasn't actually a right. It was solely up to the interrogator to decide the meaning of that silence.
“Sir Knight.”
An investigator entered just then. I stood up and walked out. In the Genen Annex cafeteria, the children from the orphanage were eating.
I opened the door to the consultation room located right next to it.
[Consultation Room]
Inside was a man said to be Yukia’s uncle.
“Mr. Entikkan.”
I addressed the middle-aged Yaken, who resembled a wolf.
“Your niece inside isn't saying a word.”
“It’s likely because her Imperial tongue is clumsy. She spent so much time wandering the continent with my father,” Entikkan explained nervously.
I looked at the materials placed on the consultation room table. They were documents summarizing the cash flow and spending habits of the tiny orphanage he operated.
There wasn't a single trace of revolution to be found.
“It’s spotless.”
I noted with genuine impression.
“I’ve never seen anyone run a mere orphanage as cleanly as you do.”
Occasionally, there are people like this. People who leave nothing for themselves and only give to others.
Entikkan was one of them.
“And yet, you were suspected simply because you are Yaken.”
After the fall of the Empire, I had once read a book titled The Art of Interrogation.
The author, pointing out the inefficiency of torture, stated that the ‘ultimate interrogation’ was to become an ally.
“Yes. Everyone looks at us and says we have the faces of traitors and rebels.”
“I don’t think so. Arans and Yakens can certainly be friends within the Empire.”
“...Like the relationship between a dog and a human?”
At Entikkan’s self-deprecating question, I looked him straight in the eye.
“Some humans, you see, will throw away their own lives to protect their dog. It depends on how the bond is built and the situations they’ve overcome together.”
If a dog’s lifespan were the same as a human’s, they might have been treated as full family members. No, they would have become something even more trustworthy than family.
Because a dog never betrays a human.
“Mr. Entikkan. I’d like to make a proposal.”
“...A proposal?”
“Yes. I need people. Talented people who can be my eyes and ears... I always need such people, and I’m always short-handed.”
Yukia Tarik was a member of the Revolutionary Group.
However, I was more than willing to test the depth of that conviction.
“Are you asking me to persuade Yukia?”
“Yes.”
Yukia Tarik would surely accept. Maximilian von Ebenholtz was a high-priority target for the Revolutionary Group’s surveillance, after all.
“I’ll give you a week.”
To turn an enemy into an ally, one must be willing to embrace this level of risk.
“I’ll be waiting for a positive answer.”
To make something mine, I first had to keep it by my side.
* * *
Reutern II looked at the mana stone cube sitting in his study several times a day.
A Master-grade Cube. Inside the crystal, which was shaped into a flawless, pure cube, a blue light flickered as if it were alive. When held, it felt cold yet smooth. It didn't feel like a stone at all. Rather, it was a mysterious sensation, as if he were touching mana itself.
This perfectly refined, beautiful form was like a work of art; just looking at it filled his heart with satisfaction.
Reutern II also liked the letter from Maximilian that had been delivered with the cube.
「To the Respected Duke Reutern,
First, I offer my sincerest apologies for the delay in delivering the item I promised due to my own shortcomings. To be honest, this may sound like a poor excuse, but I was waiting for this small gift to give to you.
I believed that this mana stone—containing the purest and most brilliant light, the kind our workshop might produce only once a year—was finally worthy of your dignity, Duke Reutern. Imagining this humble object in your hands, I cannot tell you how much I longed for its completion as quickly as possible...」
In truth, he had thrown the letter away after reading it once, but he had the cube now, and that was what mattered.
Whenever Reutern walked through the Imperial Palace, he proudly displayed the cube like a necklace.
“What is that gem, Duke Reutern?”
“I’ve never seen such a brilliant mana stone. Where did you acquire it?”
“A mana stone? That’s a mana stone, not a gem?”
“I wonder how much it would cost to get one...”
At the admiration of the palace nobles, Reutern II laughed boisterously.
“It can’t be converted into a price. They say only one or two are produced a year. I don’t even know what Max was thinking, giving this to me~”
He relished the reaction.
Furthermore, the Aura Sphere manifested by this precious mana stone would serve as the most perfect shield against any potential assassination attempts.
There was only one problem...
“Duke Reutern. Currently, Maximilian has unauthorizedly taken a Yaken arrested by the Secret Police Bureau—”
“Ugh, damn it.”
It was Lutz. The department head of the direct intelligence agency had been obsessed with Maximilian ever since the Arnold incident.
“Tell me later, later.”
“I didn't think I could tell you about an incident happening right now ‘later.’”
“Then don’t tell me at all. It’s not even that important.”
“...Yes. I understand.”
Lutz left, his lips twitching, and Reutern glared at his retreating back with narrowed eyes.
“Look at that. No manners at all, has he?”
And...
[Lutz: Yes. I understand.]
[Reutern II: Look at that. No manners at all, has he?]
All of those words were wiretapped and delivered to Maximilian.
In a way, Reutern II was a simple man. He had no complex ideologies or grand causes. He was a man for whom his own mood, possessions, and pride were the entire world.
He had zero interest in public crises like explosive terror attacks shaking the Empire or the movements of the Revolutionary Group. Instead, he reacted far more sensitively to personal unpleasantness.
He was that emotional, and that simple.
Just a tiny spark, like a flame tossed onto dry leaves, would cause him to explode. To a man who treated commoners like dogs and pigs, killing a single person wouldn't even be an issue.
Maximilian quietly pondered the ‘form’ of the spark he would throw at Reutern II.
* * *
The day of the drop training at Empire Point.
Attending as an instructor, I looked over the cadets inside the transport plane. The atmosphere had definitely changed. It was thanks to the recent changes in school regulations, which had tightened the cadets' discipline. Instead, the air itself felt heavy and somber, but considering it was the tension before being deployed to a battlefield, it wasn't bad.
“Ready!”
At my signal, the rear ramp opened.
Kwooooooo—!
The atmosphere rushed in like a tidal wave.
“Drop!”
The transport plane’s altitude was 3,000 meters. From a place higher than the clouds, the cadets hurled themselves into the void. One, two, three, four, five... dozens of elites instantly shrank into tiny dots.
Even under the pressure of gravity, they held their posture, deployed their mana as they had been taught, and began their descent in their own ways.
I watched them from above.
Come to think of it, there was a clear difference in a Knight’s descent based on talent.
While some cadets fell normally, relying on parachutes or wingsuits and yielding to gravity, others did more than just descend—they practically ‘flew.’ By controlling the density of the mana emitted from their bodies, they maneuvered freely like aircraft.
This was a realm of talent related entirely to the nature and sensation of mana, something that couldn't be reached through pure training alone.
“She’s good.”
The one showing a quality of descent on par with a Knight, despite being a mere cadet, was—[Hannah Usar].
She was a peer of Jacob, the one I had killed.
...
After the drop training, in the Empire Point Cadet Commander’s office.
“In my opinion, this descent ability will become a major point of differentiation for Knights in the future.”
Thud. Cadet Commander Dane set down his teacup. I continued.
“Descent is essentially the ability to control mana in mid-air. Cadets who significantly lack descent ability will not be able to become Knights.”
Dane glanced out the window at a transport ship that had just taken off.
These days at Empire Point, transport ships took off and landed six times a day.
“...In the past, I would have been skeptical of your words.”
Dane nodded.
“But now, I agree. Rather than the descent itself, the ability to handle mana in the air is becoming the yardstick that separates the cadets' true skills.”
Being able to handle mana precisely in the air—where there are far more variables than on the ground, and in extreme situations where air resistance and gravity crush the body—is proof that one’s control, density, and courage regarding mana are exceptional.
It meant that ‘mana control,’ which one could somehow mimic on the ground, was revealed in its rawest form in the sky.
“It’s a virtuous cycle. Skills honed in the air are applied on the ground as well. In fact, some cadets say that five minutes in the air is more helpful for mana training than five days on the ground.”
It was likely an exaggeration, but it meant it was indeed very helpful.
“That’s why even though we’re running transport ships every day, every hour, it’s still not enough.”
As he spoke, Dane glanced at me. It seemed he wanted another one.
I readily nodded.
“Actually, a new sponsorship will be coming next month.”
“Ho ho, well now. I wasn't expecting that... Hmph. Thank you. In a way, the sky might truly be the most fitting stage for a Knight.”
Dane smiled. Next to his desk were things like a sleeping bag and a tent.
“It looks like you’re preparing for a vacation.”
“Citizen’s Day is just two days away. I want to spend at least one day holed up in the mountains with Loki.”
Imperial Citizen’s Day. A day when all labor and public service stop. For reference, Loki was the dog the Cadet Commander raised.
There was also a framed photo of him with the dog on the table.
I suddenly became curious.
“Commander Dane, how much does Loki mean to you?”
Dane made a peculiar face but answered while rubbing the tip of his nose.
“Well. For me... my son and daughter are all independent now... so this guy is almost like a child I’m raising anew.”
“I see.”
The Yaken race did resemble dogs.
The Aran’s pet theory... even if it sounded like sophistry, I needed at least one reason to protect them in the future.
“I’ll be going then.”
I left Empire Point and got into my car.
For the first time in a while, I took the wheel myself without an administrative officer.
I drove alone and arrived at the destination.
An industrial zone where chimneys belching gray smoke formed a forest and mechanical noise vibrated through the air. It was a villa on a hill overlooking Gigantes.
I went inside and placed a book I had brought on the table.
[ Illusion Formula: Transformation of Color ]
It was a formula book. Illusion formulas were considered among the most difficult lineages of magic, but not for my virus.
I looked into the mirror and placed my hand on my collarbone.
Thump.
The virus’s intuition was transmitted to me. It was an instinctive sense that bypassed complex formula theories, read only the mana circuits, and derived the result. It manifested as a formula and enveloped my entire body.
An ink-like ripple appeared in the golden eyes in the mirror, gradually staining them murky.
The result was pitch-black irises and hair.
“Haa...”
I stood by the window. I was lost in thought for a moment as I looked at Gigantes spreading out in the distance.
From now on, even I didn't know the detailed developments occurring inside Gigantes.
However, I had to be able to respond even to the unknown. I couldn't rely on memories from before the regression forever.
The future had already changed, and the variables had increased.
The key was my judgment and improvisation. I had to test myself.
“...”
I changed into the Gigantes security uniform I had prepared in advance. I pulled the security cap down low. I hung a real security card around my neck.
Preparation for work was complete.