A Lie Worth Its Weight in Gold
The knights who had joined at just the right moment seized control of the gambling den in the blink of an eye. The Security Department, only belatedly learning of the Imperial Knights' arrival, scrambled out to offer their support, and the situation was swiftly brought under control.
A gambling den that had been gnawing away at the territory for years had been completely crushed in a mere two days.
The nobles and wealthy merchants hiding deep underground were arrested in one sweep, and the restaurant side of the operation—which had been serving customers without the faintest idea of what was unfolding beneath its floorboards—was subdued down to the last man.
The lord, utterly unaware that anything had been going on at all, came running in a flustered panic long after the fact, bowing to Laios again and again, while the corrupt officials and the chief of the Security Department who had lined their pockets in league with the den were hauled off on the spot.
And the vanguard of the 3rd Knight Order—the undisputed heroes of this entire affair—stood arrayed before Laios, heads bowed meekly into their collars.
"You went too far."
Still wearing that expressionless face, but with eyes that seemed to be swallowing down a hundred different things at once, Laios managed to force out a single remark.
"I clearly told you to keep an eye on things so Arendt didn't cause trouble."
There was nothing anyone could say in their defense. The knights each began looking off in different directions, suddenly very interested in the scenery.
All except one.
"I haven't caused any trouble, though. Everything worked out, didn't it? You just have to cover it up properly—"
"Shut it, would you!"
Arthur began strangling Arendt on the spot.
Watching the two of them squabble back and forth, Laios finally dragged a hand down his face and let out an enormous sigh.
"That there was something to cover up in the first place is the problem—that much everyone here understands, I trust. Everyone except that damnable brat."
They had beaten plenty of people during the suppression operation, and some of them had been civilians. Granted, they were all illegal gamblers who deserved a few blows whether they complained or not.
And of course, this had been a tremendous achievement.
If they had carried out the suppression operation through proper procedure, a single sweeping roundup like this could never have been possible.
Even so, there was no helping the way his stomach kept twisting in knots.
Unable to bring his clenched fist down on his subordinates, Laios pressed it hard against his own sternum instead.
"What is there to agonize over? His Highness the Crown Prince will handle it."
"For the love of—shut your mouth!"
The moment Arendt wriggled free of Arthur's grip and opened his mouth again, this time Glenn's fist came flying. But the blow swished through empty air, landing on nothing.
Laios looked at Arendt with a troubled expression.
"Setting everything else aside—the den's administrator, Merlin, is claiming you mixed counterfeit coins in among genuine gold. If that's true, it's a serious crime, and punishment would be unavoidable."
The image of Merlin was still vivid—cackling like a man driven out of his mind, veins bursting in his eyes as he glared at Laios with something close to madness and spewed hatred at Arendt.
The knights tensed slightly, their gazes darting between Arendt and their commander.
It was true. Things had been so chaotic until now that no one had given it any thought, but counterfeiting currency was, whatever the purpose might be, an act bordering on the unforgivable.
If such coins were to start circulating through the Callion Empire, Arendt would be unable to escape a harsh penalty.
But Arendt remained perfectly composed.
"Oh, that."
"That is not something to discuss so lightly, Arendt."
"That was a lie."
"What?"
For an instant, a collective sound of disbelief burst from the knights' mouths. Laios, too, was struck speechless, his eyes going wide.
"A lie?"
"Well, did it sound real? Even I wouldn't go that far. I'd have to know exactly how things were going to shake out before preparing counterfeit gold in advance, wouldn't I?"
With his hand thrust deep into his pocket, Arendt continued.
"Since the destination was a gambling den, I did come well stocked with money and jewels, but—well, I mixed them in, took the temperature of the room, and it seemed like it might be a reasonably effective tactic, so I gave it a try."
"You... you..."
Arthur, who had been standing there dumbstruck for a long moment, finally worked his lips on behalf of everyone present.
"You swindling little bastard..."
"I figured his reaction would be worth watching, so I actually wanted to tell him to his face while he was ranting at me. Shame I couldn't. Why don't you pass the message along for me, Commander?"
If Merlin heard those words, this time he really might fail to overcome his rage and cough up blood on the spot.
No one wondered why Merlin had been taken in by a lie so easily. The mere fact that his opponent was Arendt was explanation enough.
Laios pressed a hand to his throbbing forehead and let out what had to be his umpteenth sigh of the day.
It was genuinely fortunate that he hadn't flooded the market with counterfeit currency... but what on earth was he supposed to do about that temper?
"In any case, officially we will handle this as we discussed at the outset: the knights happened to storm into the gambling den in the middle of a major conflict. Keep that in mind."
"Yes, sir!"
Call it a sleight of hand, but a scenario disguised as coincidence had been thoroughly prepared. And with the Crown Prince offering his protection for the time being, no one would be able to quibble over the knights' methods.
Laios would have liked to deliver a longer lecture about his subordinates running wild and rampant, but looking at their haggard, worn-down appearances, he found he lacked the heart for it.
Instead of a scolding, the commander who had let out one short sigh offered a single plain remark.
"In any case—good work, all of you."
Only then did bright smiles break out across the knights' faces. Arendt, as always, wore a sour expression and pretended not to hear.
The knights, who had thrown themselves into cleaning up after the gambling den until the sun drooped past the horizon and the moon rose in its place, spent that evening lodging in quarters the lord had specially arranged for them.
After a simple dinner, Arendt headed straight for Laios's room.
He knocked twice, threw the door open without waiting for an answer, and the commander greeted him without so much as a flicker of surprise.
"Come in."
"Did you find the quarry's location?"
Arendt skipped the greeting entirely and fired off his question. Laios, apparently long since used to his rudeness, gave the answer without missing a beat.
"Merlin refused to open his mouth, but the underlings confessed willingly enough. Sir Kendrick is leading the 1st Knight Order out in person, so it should be wrapped up quickly."
They had received word that he would depart the moment the message arrived, so by the time the group here finished wrapping things up and returned to the Imperial Palace, the results would be confirmed.
"What about the internal documents?"
"Recovered intact, along with the funds. They wouldn't have had time to destroy anything."
"Hmm. His Highness the Crown Prince must be pleased."
Arendt nodded, his face entirely devoid of interest.
"Everyone you brought out has been examined by the healers. They're all undernourished, but nothing serious. Most have been sent home, but..."
"Most?"
At the odd note in Laios's voice, Arendt frowned slightly, and the commander supplied the answer.
"The brother and sister had nowhere to go, so they're under our protection for now. Their father was dragged off to the quarry, and their house was torn down when they were abducted—apparently a different building stands on the plot now. We confirmed it."
"You checked on that, in the middle of all that chaos?"
"It needed doing."
To the question that came back dripping with disbelief, Laios answered simply.
"That boy in particular asked me to pass on his thanks to you. The others being held, too. They said you worked especially hard for them."
"Of course they should thank me. After all the hell I went through."
Arendt shrugged his shoulders with perfect nonchalance.
"More importantly, there's a separate matter, isn't there? What's the situation with the real backer?"
"Right. Merlin was merely an administrator—the den's actual owner is someone else. That's the one we need to take in."
As though he had been waiting for that very question, Laios nodded.
"But it won't be easy. We've confirmed there are a few more administrators like Merlin, but this person Merlin called the 'boss' is proving very difficult to trace."
"That serious, huh?"
"Yes. Nothing identifying turned up in the stored documents either. The only clue left is a signature on the paperwork, so it's become quite a headache."
"A signature?"
By now, even Arendt was beginning to feel a slow flicker of interest. This was territory the novel had never properly covered. But a single word spoken right at his ear made him freeze for an instant.
"Rebecca."
"..."
"We don't even know whether it's an alias or a real name. But given that the same signature appears throughout the documents, it's most likely the person who runs the operation."
When Arendt merely blinked, Laios evidently decided his explanation had been insufficient and added more.
After a short pause, Arendt tilted his head.
"You don't recognize the name, Commander?"
"It's a common enough name, but... nothing comes to mind. Running a business of this scale illegally with no one any the wiser—that level of secrecy means she's thorough."
Speaking with deliberate gravity, Laios quietly furrowed his brow.
From that reaction, Arendt could tell that Laios truly knew nothing. And if Laios didn't know, then the other knight commanders—and the Crown Prince—were presumably in exactly the same position.
When he thought it through, it wasn't a strange thing at all.
Rebecca's name, the shadow magnate who had run her vicious enterprise from the underworld, hadn't begun to surface until the civil war was in full swing. If anything, it was himself he couldn't understand—having smashed a gambling den of that size and still failed to think of Rebecca.
Arendt put on his most innocent face and asked.
"Will you be investigating that side separately?"
"We'll have to. Now that we've caught the tail, we can't let it go. Especially with evidence of fraud, extortion, abduction, and unlawful confinement of imperial citizens all confirmed."
A resolute answer flowed from Laios.
Arendt half-listened, half-ignored it, nodding along absently.
So this is how it all ties together.
She had been a major power in the underworld. And later, she would attach herself to the rebel forces—in other words, to that cursed Evil God Cult...
The mercenaries Rebecca employed would go on to earn a dreadful reputation on the battlefield.
Arendt, lost in his thoughts, snapped back to attention at the sound of Laios's voice.
"That's all you need to remember for now. Here—take it."
"Huh?"
Somewhere along the way, the commander was holding something out toward him, wrapped snugly in cloth. It was, somehow, a scene that stirred a strange sense of déjà vu.
When the cloth fell away, just as he had half expected, his sword revealed itself under the lamplight. Laios had apparently retrieved what had been confiscated when he was dragged off to the cells.
"Found it in the storeroom."
"Oh, right. Thanks."
Utterly devoid of gratitude in tone, Arendt took his sword and tucked it away.
Unlike the other knights, who had carried different blades for the sake of their disguises, Arendt had been armed with his own original sword.
That was thanks to his status as an apprentice knight—the sword he used wasn't one bestowed by the Emperor, but a personal possession he'd brought with him when he joined the Order.
He was heading out of the room, greeting skipped as usual, when Laios called him back.
"Arendt. You've worked hard—"
"Spare me the pleasantries. I'm planning to milk His Highness the Crown Prince for all he's worth later, anyway."
Cut off mid-sentence and confronted with that retort, Laios simply shut his mouth. Seizing the opening, the insolent apprentice knight slipped out of the commander's quarters.
Thud. Watching the door swing shut again, Laios let out a deep sigh.
It was true that this whole affair, start to finish, had been resolved by Arendt running himself ragged all over the place.
He might as well just worry about the Crown Prince's wellbeing instead. It would be easier on the stomach.