Chapter 76: Something Irritating (2)
Chapter 76: Something Irritating (2)
Yukia sat perched on the windowsill of her quarters, gazing up at the Imperial night sky. A cold wind ruffled her clothes, and the moonlight shimmered against her silver hair.
Clack. Clack.
She fiddled with small metal components in her hands.
Assembling, disassembling, and reassembling—a meaningless repetition. It was a ritual to quiet her anxiety.
Crackle.
Suddenly, static flared in the artifact in her ear.
—...These are the documents for approval.
It was Maximilian’s office. The voice belonged to an administrative official.
The dry sounds of paper turning and a fountain pen scratching against parchment drifted through.
—...Sir. May I ask you one thing?
After a moment, the sound of a pen being set down was followed by the official speaking cautiously.
—...I am curious as to why you chose to take in a Yaken. They are difficult to communicate with, and given the Imperial sentiment, I fear keeping a sub-species by your side might negatively impact your reputation, Sir.
—...I wonder.
Maximilian’s voice was low. He murmured as if speaking to himself.
—...It might be pity.
Pity.
Yukia’s hands froze. She gripped the metal parts so hard they threatened to deform.
Anger surged within her. She bit her lip in humiliation.
—...Rather, it feels more like a promise.
Yukia’s head tilted.
A promise?
With whom, and regarding what?
—...So, make sure you look after her well. The Yaken are certainly a sub-species that can be useful to the Aran people.
—...Yes. Understood.
“A. Useful. Sub-species.”
Yukia spat out each word as if chewing on them. Swallowing a trembling breath, she picked up a pen. She recorded the day’s events in her notebook.
Maximilian’s minor actions, his unconscious speech habits, even the intervals of his silences.
To her, all of it was information for the future—weapons to be aimed at his throat.
Scratch— scratch—
She loathed the nobility. She hated those who had driven her father to his death and covered that death with deception with a hatred that seeped into her very bones.
To her, revolution was simply another name for revenge.
The knight named Maximilian—no, rather, that man who stood at the very pinnacle of the aristocratic system—would be the most fitting target of all.
* * *
I had come to the Kanilan Independent State for a brief business trip.
“This is Newrak Street.”
I was in the bustling city with Dieter. In other words, just two men. It wasn't exactly a thrilling arrangement, but it wasn't bad for a change of pace.
After constantly smelling the cloying perfumes of the Imperial nobility, the scent of rotting money mixed with pleasure and desire felt strangely refreshing.
“Kanilan possesses a diverse culture.”
Dieter, who seemed to have become an expert on Kanilan overnight, drove the car and guided me through the area.
“There are many grand theaters on this street. It is said the number of theaters has tripled in the last year alone.”
Posters for all sorts of performances, from classical plays to avant-garde modern dramas, covered the buildings.
“Vast amounts of capital are also flowing into the film industry.”
The street of cinema. It was filled with posters for various genres, including romance and war. It looked as though overflowing liquidity was gathering and exploding everywhere. It was truly Kanilan’s golden age.
“Ah, and also.”
Dieter suddenly stopped the car, ran to a street stall, and bought some kind of dessert.
“You must try this.”
It was a dessert consisting of a crispy grilled waffle cone stuffed with ice cream, chocolate, and biscuit sticks that resembled chopsticks.
I took a bite.
“Hmm.”
It was sweet. Stimulating enough to make my head spin, but not bad.
“It’s decent.”
“Sir. Would you like to look around the street for a moment?”
“Let’s do that.”
I stepped out into the middle of the street.
Brilliant electric lights turned the night sky into day, people laughed while drinking champagne on restaurant balconies, and music flowed from every corner of the street.
For a world on the brink of destruction, it was certainly sparkling.
“Dieter. What do you think? I’m certain all of this will collapse soon.”
To me, Dieter was still an enigma. He performed his assigned tasks perfectly, but his heart was as still as a well. There was no agitation, neither on the surface nor within.
Our first meeting had been utterly mundane, and he remained so even now. He was a man devoid of change.
“I agree. Money without substance is circulating here.”
Dieter pushed up his rimless glasses with a finger.
“Kanilan companies borrow money from banks to develop technology, and then use that technology as collateral to borrow money again. As this repeats infinitely, the companies fall into severe moral hazard. Even if technology isn't developed—even for technology that is impossible to realize—loans are approved as long as they hang a plaque labeled ‘Innovative Technology.’”
If the Empire was ruined by war, Kanilan was being destroyed by debt.
“They are growing a bubble using technology that has no substance and technology they have no intention of completing as collateral.”
Despite this, stock prices hit record highs every day. This was because blind money was pouring in from the Empire and neighboring countries.
Consequently, the shockwave of Kanilan’s future downfall would hit the Empire and various other nations with immense force.
“However, if this place explodes, the Empire will also suffer great damage. This is because the Empire’s economy is currently running on ‘promissory notes.’”
“You mean Ken Steiner?”
“Yes.”
The Empire’s Chancellor and a notorious workaholic—Ken Steiner was forcibly buoying the Imperial economy through promissory notes issued by ghost banks that had no real substance.
That was the reason the Empire appeared to be ‘functioning’ at the moment.
“His goal is likely pure exploration and pioneering. His plan is probably to procure military supplies with the notes and open up a lifeline through unexplored territories.”
Using the profits procured through exploration and pioneering to pay back the future they had borrowed in advance.
However, the Emperor’s thoughts were different.
“But His Majesty wants something much safer and more certain than that.”
Plundering nations. Completing the conquest that would become his great achievement.
That was why war was inevitable for the Empire. If they did not win, there was no future.
“Yes. War will certainly happen.”
We passed the bustling district and reached an empty lot. It was a planned development site, currently overgrown with weeds.
“Before that happens, we will build a bank here.”
It was Dieter’s suggestion and my decision.
In the future, the entities whose leashes I would hold through ‘risk insurance’ were Kanilan’s insurance companies and banks. The moment Kanilan’s economy plummeted and became worthless scraps of paper, I would claim massive insurance payouts and take over the country’s financial system itself.
“The bank’s banner will be absolute neutrality.”
When borders collapse and dynasties are overturned in the wake of war, money that has lost its owner and black money looking for a way to survive will pour out. I planned to create the vault that would suck in all those funds starting now.
“Yes. I will make the preparations.”
I watched Dieter as he took notes in his notebook.
“Dieter.”
“Yes.”
“What is it that you desire?”
Dieter’s annual salary was more enormous than one might think. Yet, he didn't spend money. He only bought several suits and pairs of glasses, lived in his quarters, and indulged in no luxuries.
“I consider myself an extremely hedonistic person.”
That was what Dieter said.
“...You?”
“Yes.”
Dieter looked out at the empty lot. His eyes looked as if he were picturing the bank that would soon be built there.
“I feel euphoria from numbers. Because numbers do not lie. Even if one arbitrarily deceives and modifies numbers, it will inevitably be discovered. This is because numbers do not exist independently.”
A faint expression resembling a smile bloomed on Dieter’s lips.
“The process of efficiently stacking those numbers, creating a perfect flow, and consuming them without waste... The completeness of pure logic, excluded from value judgments. I feel pleasure in such things.”
I let out a hollow laugh. Dieter wasn't a man who craved money. He seemed to be a rather peculiar human being who loved the order created by the flow of liquidity itself.
“What do you desire, Sir?”
It was an unexpected question. Dieter also had things he was curious about regarding me.
“I...”
Suddenly, a vision of a ruined future, a landscape of a destroyed world, flashed before my eyes.
“...I desire the Empire’s victory. Only then will our world stand upright.”
Dieter adjusted his glasses and replied calmly.
“Yes. I shall keep that in mind.”
* * *
Winter, with large snowflakes falling softly. In the front yard of the mansion, now dyed white, I was training Aran Shepherd-Leo.
“Listen well. Ultimately, it is about establishing your domain.”
I was currently imitating the training style of Maximilian and Priya.
“You are a dog of Ebenholtz. That means you are the most aristocratic of dogs.”
I couldn't tell if the fellow understood what I was saying, but he was listening quietly nonetheless.
“So, always keep your posture and your fur tidy.”
His posture was quite upright; he certainly showed exceptional potential.
“Do not lower your dignity by barking recklessly or wagging your tail...”
After giving him a thorough ideological education on what it meant to be an Ebenholtz, I drew my longsword and traced a circle with a two-meter radius in the snow around him.
“Establish a circular fence within your mind. And sense everything that enters it. The wind, sounds, and even the killing intent of an enemy.”
I moved my foot, teasing the boundary of the circle—stepping in, then pulling back, stepping in, then pulling back. Leo’s gaze followed the tip of my foot.
“The moment it enters.”
Tap.
The instant my foot touched the line, Leo sprang up like a coiled wire. His movement was like a bullet. Even his braking power, stopping just before biting my forearm, was perfect.
“Good. You must go for the throat in one breath. Answer.”
“Woof!”
“...I think you really are smart.”
No, he understood everything I said. I could tell just by his expression.
“Again. But this time, close your eyes.”
Leo obediently closed both eyes.
“Wait, do you really understand human speech?”
Leo opened his eyes again.
“...Close them again.”
He closed them again.
As expected, he was a ‘true’ spiritual beast worth the price of a blank check.
I picked up a pebble rolling on the ground.
“This time, it’s a pebble.”
Whish. Thud.
The sound of the pebble sinking into the snow. At that moment, Leo dashed forward with his eyes closed. He accurately snatched the spot where the pebble had fallen.
He had reacted not through sight, but through sense alone.
“Good. Again...”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The training that began with pebbles progressed to leaves that made almost no sound.
After finishing the training, I took Leo into my arms.
“Good job. Drink up.”
I held an elixir to the fellow’s mouth.
For the record, I had consulted Lorenzo just in case.
—‘Elixirs are pure crystallizations of mana, not chemical compounds, so they work the same for humans and beasts alike. But why are you asking me that?’
It meant that until now, there hadn't been any madman who fed elixirs to beasts.
Lap, lap, lap, lap.
Leo wagged his tail and lapped up the elixir, which likely cost millions. For some reason, it felt like the gloss of his fur was becoming softer in real-time.
“Grow up big and strong.”
One well-raised beast is better than ten men.
At the very least, a dog does not betray its master.
“Sir. You have guests.”
Right on time, the butler announced the visitors.
“Ah. Tell them to come in.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The reporting team from the Gemion Daily came out to the front yard.
Alphonse, and the Editor-in-Chief, Celine Dubois.
“Greetings, Sir.”
Celine bowed politely. The Revolutionary Group executive who had worn the Rabbit Mask now stood before me in an elegant coat.
“I didn't expect the Editor-in-Chief to come personally. Especially bringing that man along.”
I smirked and gestured toward Alphonse. Celine shrugged.
“He said he wanted to come personally.”
Alphonse yawned as he picked up his camera.
“Sir. What do you want? Any specific composition you’re looking for?”
“Just take some shots of my back while I’m with this little guy.”
“Sure thing~”
Click. Click.
He pressed the shutter repeatedly. Celine watched us with her arms crossed.
“‘The Knight Raises an Aran Shepherd’... I think something like that would be quite good.”
“Ah, yes, yes~”
Alphonse nodded half-heartedly and handed me a crumpled letter.
“What’s this?”
“It’s nothing much. It’s a letter written by the Gigantes security staff... their commoner representative. He insisted I deliver it to you.”
I took the letter and unfolded it. From the very first sentence, I could feel the sincerity in the way the words were pressed firmly into the paper, as if it might tear.
* * *
To the Honorable Knight Maximilian von Ebenholtz...
We were surely dead men. When Gigantes collapsed, we were trapped in iron cages as sacrifices. We remember those cold nights waiting only for our death sentences, those days when our hands and feet would not thaw, and the despair of thinking we would never see our families' faces again...
You said it was not a responsibility for commoners to bear. That was a boundless grace to us. Right now, I have my seven-year-old child before me. Staring at me while eating soup...
* * *
I silently tucked it into my inner pocket. Alphonse looked at me with serious eyes.
“I’ll admit it this time. You saved those people, Sir. Just as you said, it wasn't something mere commoners should take responsibility for. However, I will be watching the labor conditions of the new factory with eagle eyes.”
“Do as you wish.”
I replied softly while stroking Leo’s head.
“Write as much as you can while you still can.”
Once the war broke out, their pens would be the first things to be snapped.
Vrrr—
Just then, a text arrived on my terminal.
[We have succeeded in identifying Eric Tarik’s corpse. Recovery may take a bit more time.]
A smile spread across my lips.
Vrrr—
Another text followed immediately.
[The Direct Agency has begun tracking the Reutern family’s corporate entities.]
They say good things come in pairs.
I had received updates from the person I needed most and the one who was most irritating at the same time.
“Well, did something good happen?”
Alphonse asked with a smirk.
“Would you like to stay for a meal?”
“No, well, not necessarily—”
“No, no.”
Clap, clap. I clapped my hands to summon the servants.
“Let’s have a meal.”
I wanted to feel out Celine Dubois as well.
“My personal chef used to be with ‘Mefunji.’ You will certainly be satisfied.”
Mefunji. A restaurant particularly famous even in Attica, the Western Kingdom known for its many gourmet spots.
I had scouted the chef from there with a massive annual salary and ordered that the highest quality ingredients be flown in every dawn.
“We never know when we might die. It could be tomorrow.”
I ushered Celine and Alphonse into the mansion.
“We should at least enjoy the three meals we get a day. Don't you agree?”
I am struggling desperately to prevent the end of the world; I need this much luxury for the sake of my mental health.
In a world this suffocating, delicious food is one of the best incentives to make me look forward to tomorrow.