Chapter 401
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 401
Chapter Title: Cute is Justice.
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At the time Aynsha was infiltrating the Kremlin Palace.
Rimon was tending to his own duties.
In other words, he was hunting for the Liberation Brigade hiding among the revolutionaries.
Of course, it wasn't easy.
Even though they'd been entrusted with the critical mission of infiltrating the Kremlin Palace, to the revolutionaries, Rimon and his sister Aynsha were still green recruits.
They had a hard time fully trusting Aynsha as it was—there was no way they'd just sit back and let Rimon rummage freely through their ranks.
Yet Rimon didn't show a hint of impatience.
He simply lounged by a blazing drum barrel, basking in the flames.
And that was why.
Yuna Kyung cracked open her beak with a sullen look.
[Excuse me, Team Leader. Didn't we join the revolutionaries to find the Liberation Brigade?]
'To be precise, we didn't join them. We're just cooperating temporarily.'
[Anyway. Is it okay to just sit here spacing out like this?]
'It's not like running around like a headless chicken will magically uncover the Liberation Brigade.'
[Well, that's true, but...]
Yuna Kyung was at a loss for words.
The Liberation Brigade were tougher and more elusive than cockroaches.
Especially since tracking and surveillance abilities didn't work on them at all—they were an organization that was truly hard to pin down.
That was why intelligence agencies from countries around the world, and even the Seven Dragon Society, had struggled to catch them all this time.
Much less picking them out one by one from the loosely organized revolutionaries—even a Sword Master would find that difficult.
[...But just standing around like this isn't solving anything, right?]
"We'll see about that."
[Huh?]
As Yuna Kyung blinked at his cryptic words,
Rimon glanced sideways.
He fixed his gaze on the people bustling in and out of the warehouses.
The spot they were in was an old industrial district a ways from Moscow.
Not really "old factories"—just a half-ruined wasteland littered with abandoned plants and dilapidated warehouses.
With hardly any operational factories around, nine out of ten people here had to be revolutionaries.
Especially in this Russian Khanate, where vagrants and thugs were rare sights.
Of course, even Rimon couldn't tell at a glance if they were regular revolutionaries or Liberation Brigade members...
But the opposite was possible.
Swish.
The moment a black gleam rose in Rimon's eyes,
odd shadows sporadically overlapped the figures of some revolutionaries milling about.
It was a power he'd gained by slashing constellations.
One that revealed the unseen—showing him the constellations they'd contracted with.
'Hmm... more than I expected.'
A contract with a constellation meant they were Players.
Given the Liberation Brigade's nature as a criminal Player organization, if no constellation was visible, they could be pegged as pure revolutionaries.
The problem was that even Rimon's eyes couldn't distinguish between regular revolutionary Players and Liberation Brigade ones.
But he wasn't disappointed.
He simply observed them intently,
while tuning his ears to the cacophony of sounds from all directions.
And for a Sword Master like him, focusing on sound was on another level entirely from just "listening well."
"...recruitment?"
"Yes, we're gathering as many as we can with maximum effort."
"It's tough work, but thank you. The revolution's success or failure may hinge on your efforts..."
Overhearing Sergey whispering with another revolutionary in a secluded spot was child's play.
The rustle of bills in someone's pocket.
A wrench assembling machinery.
Fingers picking up a spent casing.
Lovers pressing lips together.
Stealthy footsteps.
A bug wriggling.
Even bodily functions.
Every tiny sound within hundreds—no, thousands of meters flowed into his senses like rivers into the sea.
A hellish din that would drive an ordinary person mad, clutching their ears.
But Rimon didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow.
He silently took it all in, without even the barest filtering.
Only after a long while did Rimon pause his sorting—distinguishing Players among the passing revolutionaries with his eyes, gathering sounds with his ears.
It was around when the fierce flames in the drum had nearly died down.
"...Getting on in years, and I still can't handle this."
He withdrew the star's power.
Closed his heightened senses.
Rimon let out a small sigh.
Maintaining focus for days on end was nothing for him—opening his senses briefly was trivial.
But fatigue built up anyway.
Especially hearing some hairy bastard scratching his ass—it chipped away at his concentration in chunks.
Still, silver lining amid the ordeal.
His day's labors had borne fruit.
"Things just got interesting."
[Interesting? How?]
"From the revolutionaries' sorry state, finding the Liberation Brigade might be easier than I thought."
While Rimon stood like a stone statue,
Yuna Kyung, bored out of her mind, had been playing with his hair, braiding it.
She tilted her head at his words.
But he didn't bother explaining in detail.
He just grabbed the Yuna Kyung perched on his head, ruffled her feathers wildly, and sank into thought alone.
'Does that revolutionary bigwig not know how his organization really runs? Or...?'
[Ack, hold on! Team Leader, that's a sensitive spot...! Eek!]
As Rimon drifted into contemplation,
and the thoroughly toyed-with Yuna Kyung flopped down exhausted,
Bathemensky brought good news.
"Supervisor Rino, Researcher Elshar has safely completed her mission and returned."
"Oh, really?"
"...You're not happy?"
"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
Hearing that his little sister had infiltrated the Kremlin Palace and come back safe,
yet reacting as flatly as if she'd just returned from a part-time gig—Bathemensky was taken aback, but only briefly.
He cleared his throat and continued.
"Ahem, anyway, to avoid any potential tails, Researcher Elshar headed to the safehouse. So if you'd like to meet her..."
"Not particularly eager to see her right now."
"I, I see."
Fresh sweat beaded on his brow again.
Unable to stand it, Yuna Kyung cautiously spoke up.
[Um, Team Leader. I get why you're not worried, but since you're pretending to be siblings, shouldn't you act a bit more concerned?]
'Worrying about that idiot princess now would just look weirder.'
[You are worried she'll cause trouble, though?]
'Hmm, true enough.'
[Right? So...]
'In that spirit, Na-kyung, you go watch the idiot princess and make sure she doesn't screw up. Intervene if needed.'
[Why me?!]
'I've got work here.'
[Your "work" is just an excuse—you're really just too lazy to clean up after White Sis's mess again, so you're dumping it on me!]
'Good on you for getting it.'
[You shameless jerk, not even pretending anymore!]
She fluttered in outrage briefly.
But in the end, Yuna Kyung went off alone to find Aynsha, as ordered.
Even for her, who initially balked, Rimon's threat of feeding her worms for breakfast was too much to resist.
[Ugh, just you wait, Team Leader! I'll pay you back for this someday!]
Yuna Kyung flapped her wings vigorously.
Now fully feathered,
she braved the cold winds, even using space movement at times, steadfastly crossing the snow-blanketed plains for a good while.
She finally folded her wings at a building in a corner of Moscow.
Not too big, not too small.
Neither old nor new.
A safehouse disguised as the most ordinary family home, just like its neighbors.
[White Sis, White Sis?]
[Hello? Can you hear me?]
[Weird. I heard White Sis already got here...]
Puzzled by the odd sensation of talking to thin air, she poked around the safehouse briefly.
Then her eyes lit up.
[Ah, found you! White Sis, over here! Look at me!]
The white-haired girl passing by the window glanced around.
Spotting Yuna Kyung flapping wildly outside, she tilted her head slightly, then trotted to the window.
"Were you calling me?"
[Of course. Who else would I call if not you, White Sis?]
Poof.
Amused despite herself at the white-haired girl's usual odd quip, but only briefly.
Yuna Kyung slipped through space into the window.
And fired off questions in succession.
[White Sis, nothing went wrong at the Kremlin Palace, right? You didn't cause any incidents?]
Observing something,
or pondering her response,
the girl stared blankly at the incessantly chattering bluebird with an expressionless face.
Soon, as always, she spoke in her blunt tone.
"No incidents. I'm not an idiot. Infiltration was perfect."
[Even if you say it was perfect, I've never seen one of White Sis's bold claims actually pan out properly.]
Despite the snark, Yuna Kyung felt relieved.
If Aynsha had caused real trouble, her personality would've made it impossible to hide.
Her brazen declaration itself was proof nothing had gone awry at the Kremlin.
Granted, it was harder to mess up in a place she'd gotten permission to infiltrate.
As she thought there'd be no cleanup needed,
Yuna Kyung tilted her head.
[But White Sis, why haven't you taken off the pads?]
The potion's effect had worn off—her hair was white, and she'd changed out of the maid disguise.
So why were the padded breasts still there?
To the puzzled question, the girl replied as if she'd been waiting.
"Practice run."
[...Practice?]
"Rebels let me infiltrate successfully this time. Might need a double again. So practicing to get used to it ahead."
[That seems a bit overkill.]
"Better safe than sorry. Preparing beats not preparing."
[Ah, okay...]
'Jealous, maybe?'
Yuna Kyung tilted her head.
The logical explanation was uncharacteristic of Aynsha—not the main issue, but padding for disguise practice felt off.
Eventually piecing together Aynsha's reasoning, Yuna Kyung scratched her head with a wing.
[Anyway, don't sweat being petite. You've still got growing to do, White Sis. Eat well, sleep well, and you'll shoot up in no time.]
"No."
[Huh?]
As Yuna Kyung blinked at the abrupt reply, the white-haired girl said with a straight face,
"Small is cute."
"Cute is justice."
"So my chest can't grow bigger."
"Got it?"
[...Huh?]
It sounded like an explanation,
but it only grew more baffling—Yuna Kyung floated question marks above her head.
Then the white-haired girl reached out.
And abruptly grabbed Yuna Kyung tight, forcing their eyes level, asking again.
"Got it?"
[Y-Yes... yes! Got it. Cute is justice, absolutely!]
"Good."
Only then did she seem satisfied.
Released by the nodding, expressionless girl, Yuna Kyung broke into cold sweat.
The moment their crystal-clear eyes met,
she'd felt that a wrong answer might get her crushed in that slender hand.
'Just my imagination...?'
Yuna Kyung brushed it off.
Chalked it up to the chill from flying over the snowfields.
Something felt off, but Aynsha was a girl who was weirder more often than not.
"Ah, there you are."
Bathemensky appeared then.
Confirming no tail,
he'd arrived at the safehouse a bit after Yuna Kyung and hurried over upon seeing Aynsha.
"Glad you're safe. Did you meet the Sword Duke?"
"Met him... yes."
"So, how'd the persuasion go?"
"..."
The white-haired girl tilted her head slightly at him, who skipped greetings for rushed questions.
Like a cat eyeing a mouse that wandered right to her paws.
Without a word.
Just tilting her head.
Staring intently.
Then, with her usual calm face—yet oddly tinged with amusement—she spoke,
and Yuna Kyung's eyes nearly popped out.
"Sword Duke says he'll help the revolution."
[What did you say?!?!]