Twisting One's Own Fate
After sending Lina off to play elsewhere, I stepped into the orphanage director's office alone. In the corner, the man stood quietly examining the volumes lining the bookshelf. They were not books I had procured.
They had been here from the very beginning.
Contrary to her deplorable conduct, the original Catherina seemed to have possessed quite a fondness for reading. Tucked between the pages of several volumes were dog-eared bookmarks, marking the exact spots where she had left off. To depart this world without ever seeing the ending—what a bitter grievance that must have been. Well, I would settle that grievance for her. I would finish every single one in her stead.
Of course, I was the one who had devoured her in the first place. But surely Catherina was thrilled deep down to have been eaten by me. Not so? What of it? It wasn't as though I lacked consent. True, the woman herself hadn't agreed, but hadn't the children? I had my standards, thank you very much. I didn't just devour anyone.
In any case, that meant my hands were full. Good grief, the sheer mountain of chores waiting to be dealt with in this orphanage alone... But first, I had to do something about this self-proclaimed police officer. I stole a glance at the man. He had settled onto the sofa.
"I'm afraid I don't have much to offer. Will tea suffice?"
"Yes. I'm not particularly fond of refreshments anyway."
Who asked if you liked sweets, pal?
The snide thought crossed my mind, but I forced the corners of my mouth upward into a pleasant smile as I set about brewing his tea. There was already some left over, but I decided to steep a fresh, scalding batch—with any luck, he'd burn his tongue.
While the water boiled, I subtly shifted my eyes toward the safe. I couldn't help being curious about whether my little prank had worked. The safe was distinctly unlatched. Moving as naturally as I could manage, I drifted over and checked the envelope inside. Naturally, it was empty.
I had only slipped it in as a joke; I never dreamed she would actually open it. Shakti, you really didn't trust me at all, did you? Still, now that I'd given her some spending money, maybe we'd get a little closer? If not, well, nothing I could do. Adolescent girls really were the hardest to deal with.
Setting aside the dilemma of how to handle a teenage girl, I brought over the steaming cup and placed it before the officer. Then, I sank into the sofa across from him.
"So, what was it you said you came to discuss?"
I asked, but the officer merely sat in silence, staring down at the tea I had offered.
"Officer?"
"...Ah, my apologies. I was lost in thought for a moment."
Is that so? And here I thought you were suspecting I'd spiked your drink.
"And what brings you here today?"
"I am conducting an investigation concerning the Andelo Family. Records indicate that this orphanage has previously arranged adoptions for them, so I stopped by for an on-site inquiry."
Straight to the point, wasn't he? Normally, people beat around the bush a little so as not to ruffle the other person's feathers. Well, wrapping this up quickly suited me just fine. I would give him a half-assed answer and send him packing.
"All I did was send a few children their way on favorable terms."
"For someone claiming it was only 'a few,' the count is remarkably high. And without filing a single notification with the public authorities, no less."
"..."
Catherina, you crazy bitch. I knew she had shipped off quite a lot of them, but she hadn't even registered the adoptions with the government? Then again, considering where they were being sent, registering them with public authorities would hardly have been wise. I should have checked the records sooner, but I was so swamped I never got the chance. There were just too many damn things to clean up.
Still, how on earth did this fellow know about adoptions that were never officially documented? The question flared in my mind, but asking would likely only invite more suspicion, so I held my tongue.
"Furthermore, my inquiries revealed that you, as well—"
The officer cut himself off mid-sentence.
The sudden break plunged the room into a heavy silence. Neither I nor Officer Decalio spoke a word. Watching him regard me with an oddly vigilant air, I reached a verdict. Right, time to throw him out. This conversation isn't going anywhere good.
I rose from my seat and padded silently toward the door. Careful not to hurt anyone, I drew it open just a crack—yet Shakti and Lina, completely unaware that I was standing right behind it, bonked their foreheads squarely against the opening wood.
"Owie!"
"Ugh!"
I had known all along that the two of them were snooping outside. Perhaps I ought to teach them how to eavesdrop without making it so glaringly obvious. The officer watching me right now had surely noticed them, too. Sharp instincts, that one.
Looking down at the pair clutching their bumped heads, I asked, "My goodness, what are you two doing in front of the door?"
Shakti's pupils trembled visibly in panic. Lina, on the other hand, beamed innocently.
"Shakti-unnie told me we should listen to what you and the mister are talking about!"
"Hey!"
Shakti swiftly clamped a hand over Lina's mouth, but it was already too late. I turned my gaze toward Shakti.
"Oh? And why were you so eager to listen? Care to tell me?"
"N-No, well, it's..."
Unable to keep her eyes still, Shakti fumbled for words.
"Whatever you're curious about, I'll hear you out later." I laid a gentle hand atop her head. As Shakti froze stiff, I murmured, "Shakti, why don't you take Lina and go play? The grown-ups have matters to discuss."
After standing frozen for a heartbeat, Shakti abruptly slapped my hand away, grabbed Lina, and bolted. Watching them scramble up the freshly repaired staircase, I felt rather pleased with myself for having fixed the steps.
Puberty, maybe?
She was certainly at that age. Did that mean Opindel, who practically lived shut inside his room, was going through puberty as well? I looked down at the hand Shakti had swatted away. It had seemed like a light slap, yet my wrist was left stinging. For a girl so frail-looking, was she secretly built like a brick wall?
Rubbing my sore wrist, I returned to my seat.
"Apologies. The children interrupted us."
"An age full of curiosity. Having raised a child myself, I understand."
He looked young, yet he already had a kid? Did he get someone pregnant early on or something?
"Now then, since the children are gone, let us return to where we left off."
He certainly wasted no time getting back to business.
"Why, specifically, did you arrange adoptions to the Andelo Family?"
His tone carried an unmistakable edge of interrogation. In fact, it was outright cross-examination. But refusing to let him seize control of the room, I decided to play the brazen card.
"I simply placed the children because the terms offered were generous. As for not filing the adoptions with the public authorities, that was purely a matter of cost."
In this republic, bureaucrats wouldn't lift a finger unless you greased their palms with cash. Where would a dilapidated orphanage like this find that kind of money? Conveniently, having already pawned off every last one of Catherina's luxury goods, my attire looked thoroughly plain. Surely that would quell his suspicions?
"Ah, is that so."
He offered a completely perfunctory nod, making zero effort to hide his skepticism.
"You didn't conduct medical checkups on the children, either."
"Those aren't mandatory. And besides, they cost a small fortune as well."
The man leaned forward.
"For someone claiming to have no money, your ledger of transactions is remarkably colorful."
By 'transactions,' he was undoubtedly referring to the personal luxury items. Looking into private transactions required reviewing records on transaction tax payments. That meant he had already pulled and reviewed those tax documents before setting foot in this room.
The implication was crystal clear.
This man hadn't come here merely to ask routine questions.
He was already certain.
Certain of Catherina's illicit collusion.
There was nothing harder in this world than persuading someone whose mind was already made up—especially when that certainty was rooted in undeniable evidence.
In that case, I needed to ask something else instead.
"Allow me to ask just one thing." Straightening my posture, I shot him a sharp glance. "Why haven't you taken a single sip of the tea I went through the trouble of brewing for you?"
To my question, he answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Because the stench is unbearable."
At those words, I set my cup down. To avoid locking eyes with him, I lowered my gaze toward his teacup. From the moment I had served it, he hadn't touched a single drop. The surface of the tea remained dead still, undisturbed and untouched from the start.
Honestly speaking, I truly hadn't put anything in his tea. I had briefly contemplated it, sure, but I didn't do it. Talk about an unfair accusation.
That aside, it proved he had suspected me from the very beginning.
Still... a stench?
"What kind of stench are you talking about?"
Could he really be referring to the tea's aroma? Come to think of it, that bastard had an extraordinary nose as well. With that bizarre sense of smell, he used to sniff out not just physical odors, but even the lingering trace of Mystery.
Could that really be a coincidence?
No. Not a chance.
What had begun as a passing suspicion hardened into ironclad certainty. And once certainty took hold, the only proper response was action. Fail to act immediately, and the initiative would slip away forever.
The moment the other party reached the same realization, it would already be too late. Not certainty regarding Catherina—certainty regarding me.
My instincts screamed that our brief exchange had just brought him to that exact conclusion.
Then the only question was: who would strike first and claim the upper hand?
Conveniently, I had just the right tool at hand.
When reuniting with an old acquaintance, there was always one appropriate greeting. I reached into my coat and drew my revolver, leveling the muzzle straight at him in one fluid motion. An old acquaintance deserved nothing less than a warm welcome down the barrel of a gun.
Click!
"I knew it."
And I wasn't the only one who thought so. The exact instant I raised my weapon, Decalio was already leveling his own gun directly between my eyes. Clearly, our thoughts had run along the exact same track.
"I thought that stench smelled familiar."
The man took off his sunglasses. A pair of all-too-familiar eyes. After all, we had crossed paths—and clashed—more than a few times in the past.
"It really is you."
Guns drawn on each other, just as we had always done.
Yes. This sight suited us far better.
My old nemesis.