Beasts and Vermin
I do not trust beasts or insects. Fundamentally, I do not trust people. I expect nothing from them. Humans may emit a light brighter than any lamp, yet they are also filthier and more hideous than anything else, so I never give them my heart. That is why I handle so many matters personally; there is hardly a day without a schedule, but it cannot be helped. It was the path I chose and the way I lived. Still, even someone like me—who relies on no one—sometimes cannot escape a quiet sting of disappointment.
“……”
“……”
“……”
“……”
A heavy silence fell. Before me stood pigs with mouths full of honey. Little lambs who clamped their lips shut the moment I appeared. It felt as though I were being deliberately ostracized, and the pain lanced through my chest like a tear in living flesh. I had done nothing at all, yet I could not fathom why they watched me with such wary eyes. Moreover, every time I saw them I thought the same thing: what a waste.
The banquet hall had money slathered across it to project luxury. The garments draped over their own skins served the same purpose. There were no meaningful expenditures—only vanity-driven extravagance from pigs. With every conceivable luxury smeared over their bodies, they looked as if they were preening, begging to be butchered. I regretted that I could not lay hands on them at once, and I pitied the lives they led.
Some would no doubt offer excuses: they were only spending what they had earned. It was money they had worked hard to obtain, so they could use it however they pleased. Certainly, a true adult respects another’s freedom. But as far as I knew, there was not a single genuine adult among those gathered here. Instead of diligently working and earning their share of society’s rewards, these were pigs who fed on money left to rust in the shadows. Everyone present was either of that breed or a fledgling already eating the slop that would soon turn them into the same.
There was no way I could like any of it. Yet business has always been conducted while setting personal feelings aside. So I simply took the pigs’ hands in my own. Of course, I had to distinguish clearly between the beasts and the vermin, for the two were fundamentally different. Pests did not even deserve the courtesy of a handshake.
Thus, today as well, I strolled through the banquet hall, occasionally scanning the pests that caught my eye. I prayed the day I would meet them separately would come soon, and made my way toward the protagonist of the evening.
“Congratulations on your birthday, Minister.”
The Minister of Finance—Abriham Dolores. A pillar of the Central Council that steered Westania, the strongest military and industrial nation on the continent, and a heavyweight whose rank approached fifth in national protocol. An old raccoon who had long prowled the political arena. The middle-aged man, who until now had always accepted greetings with a benevolent smile while firmly occupying the superior position, stepped forward first to welcome his guest.
“……Oh, Demian! I heard you might not be able to attend, but thank you for making time amid your busy schedule.”
“Not at all. It is a celebration of the Minister’s birthday; it is only natural that I attend.”
“Haha, even your words are gracious. Your time is worth more than gold, so I have received a truly expensive gift.”
As he said, I had debated simply returning home to rest, yet I had come. It was understandable that he would be grateful. My body was exhausted thanks to that damned demon. Even so, the reason I had forced myself to appear was not merely to show my face for a moment.
I smiled and murmured quietly.
“Minister, I have a separate gift prepared.”
At that, Abriham’s already amiable eyes drew an even sharper arc.
“Then we should take a separate seat.”
The Finance Minister’s birthday banquet. Naturally, a great number of high officials and businessmen of comparable stature had attended. My true business was with the minister alone, yet I could not ignore the rest. After exchanging the usual pleasantries with them, I read the atmosphere and moved on at an appropriate moment.
The minister’s office inside the mansion, far removed from the banquet hall. It was an all-too-obvious location. A meeting between the head of the nation’s foremost enterprise and the man responsible for the country’s finances. To any observer it would appear a shady collusion. Yet with proper justification, it was also a powerful alliance between two formidable figures.
“This wine was one of your gifts as well, wasn’t it?”
Finance Minister Abriham Dolores spoke as he poured red wine into a crystal glass. I nodded. I had sent a vintage last year and arranged for another to be delivered in advance this year. It had not been limited to the past few years; I had done so steadily for nearly a decade. The title of Finance Minister was more than sufficient to warrant such consistent attention.
I was not fond of drinking, but the family wine cellar had overflowed with fine vintages since my predecessor’s time. It was wise to put them to use on occasions like this. Abriham Dolores, renowned as a connoisseur, always seemed more delighted by rarity than by price.
“Yes… gifts, gifts indeed……”
And today, too, he was pleased. He had worn a smile from the moment we met, so I could not read his exact mood, but the occasional tilt of his head suggested genuine anticipation—like a child wondering what lay inside a wrapped box.
“Do you know, my friend?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Something people vaguely suspect but cannot confirm.”
For instance, the quiet rumor that every additional gift from me prompted the Finance Minister to purchase a new warehouse and prompted new legislation in the council. The notable tale of how certain heavyweight politicians and businessmen had fallen from grace overnight. In contrast, the widely known fact that Demian Cloud’s conglomerate was rapidly expanding. All of it stemmed from a single source.
“I’ll hear about the gift later. I’m not sure I can live up to your expectations. So tell me—what is it you want?”
Abriham Dolores leaned forward, rested his chin on his hand, and listened. I smiled calmly. I took a sip of the wine before me and savored it.
As expected, it is not to my taste.
Still, it was not a drink I could refuse.
“This matter does not require the Minister’s direct attention.”
“Then what should I do?”
“The lower house will introduce the bill. Deliberation will take place in the Central Council and the Ministry of Military Affairs. Your Excellency need only lend a quiet hand.”
For the first time that day, the smile vanished from the Finance Minister’s face.
“What is the content?”
What makes alcohol frightening? It seeps in like a fine drizzle, eroding a man’s dignity, spirit, and fortune. The same principle must apply to the advancement of one’s plans. In that sense, this would surely return as a sudden, potent draft. Yet in the end it was the necessary priming water for the future. It was also the first glass.
“It is a bill concerning the authority of private soldiers.”
It would taste bitterly harsh. But the final result I would face would be sweeter than anything.
When Finance Minister Abriham Dolores first heard the proposal, his face froze as if he had seen a ghost. Yet as the conversation unfolded smoothly afterward, color quickly returned to his cheeks. The additional details I provided carried credibility, and from the beginning he had only been asked to participate in a way that greatly minimized his own risk.
Abriham Dolores stared at the ceiling for a long while with a deeply contemplative expression, then lowered his gaze and smiled brightly.
“Thinking about it again, your attendance at my birthday banquet is truly a precious gift.”
“I am grateful you see it that way.”
“Well, then. Let me say this—”
“……?”
“My daughter is in the banquet hall. She takes after her mother, so her beauty is quite striking.”
The minister winked.
“Any thoughts about becoming my son-in-law?”
I smiled bitterly. Heavens. I had not expected the strong drink to return so soon.
Abriham Dolores’s daughter, Ashily Dolores. She was indeed beautiful, just as he claimed, yet she had not inherited only her mother’s looks; among the younger nobility she was rather well-known as a drinker. She seemed cheerful and sociable, fond of luxury—clearly not a match for me.
With genuine regret, I answered the minister.
“I am sorry. I have no plans to start a family yet.”
“Ah, what a shame.”
This, too, was the truth. I intended to mobilize every possible means, but forming a family was the one exception. Even in a political marriage, I had no desire to create someone who might leave lingering attachments.
And above all—
“Haha, I feel the same.”
Vermin could not marry a beast.
After concluding my talk with the minister, I returned to the banquet hall with a considerably lighter heart. We would meet again soon enough, but I thought I should greet the others once more. A great deal of time had passed since the banquet began and many guests had already left, so the rounds were quickly finished. I was preparing to depart as well.
“……Um—”
A delicate voice, so faint it seemed it might snap, brushed my ear. My suit sleeve was tugged gently. I turned my head and felt a jolt of inner astonishment. The first reason was that I had failed to notice someone approaching so close. The second was the face I saw when I looked.
In a banquet hall drenched in money, she wore the plainest dress. Her face was flushed crimson as though it might burst. Her blue eyes trembled. Brilliant golden hair caught the light. Ellyse Bertman, in all her vivid colors, squeezed her eyes shut and asked.
“Have we met somewhere before!?”
To her dearest friend Ashily Dolores, it apparently seemed like an excellent flirt.