The Beaming Expo - 4
I forced the paper down, enduring its disgusting texture, and felt Section Chief One’s gaze on me from the side as he blinked those two eyes of his.
“What? Got something to say?”
“Was that the Intelligence Department?”
The usually sunny kid asked with a rare frown. Ah, this one had run into Intelligence a few times himself.
The victims of this bizarre tradition were spread far and wide. The Audit Department was no exception, so whenever the executives needed to contact Intelligence they went all out trying to visit them first—but if circumstances didn’t allow it, an Intelligence agent came to them instead.
If the agent showed up before you could go to them, well, you swallowed the paper and destroyed the evidence just like I just had.
“Yeah.”
“Ugh, why are they still like that? They could just use a communication orb.”
“Don’t ask the Intelligence Department that to their face. They hate it even more than we do.”
I’d once finally snapped and asked, only to be stared at in silence with eyes that held every sorrow in the world, so I quietly left. Anyone who could protest after seeing those eyes had no heart.
“We don’t have that kind of tradition. I don’t know why Intelligence does.”
“All the people who remembered our traditions are gone, after all.”
A snicker escaped me at Section Chief One’s grumbling. The Ministry of Finance—including the Audit Department—had been spectacularly overturned two years ago, and the vast majority of its traditions had vanished with it. I’d heard there had been quite a few bad habits too, but with no one left who remembered them, it didn’t matter.
Section Chief One shuddered as if those days had come flooding back. I understood completely—just thinking about it made my teeth chatter. How many times had a rope flashed before my eyes? At the worst of it I’d even carried a poison flask around. Fortunately I’d never had to use it.
“You just need to go alone, right, Chief?”
“Want to come along?”
Section Chief One shook his head vigorously, clearly reluctant to meet anyone from Intelligence. I wished he’d treat the Chief with even half the wariness he showed Intelligence.
“They’re only meek in front of their own Chief. They’re ridiculously picky with us.”
“Maybe that’s the difference in personal virtue?”
“Wow…”
The way Section Chief One quietly averted his gaze was pretty cheeky.
Since the person from Intelligence had been the last visitor, there was plenty of time to head to the main building. They’d probably come aiming for that exact window to begin with.
“I’m stepping out for a bit.”
If I left now I’d arrive at the main building right on time for the appointment. Showing up early and lingering would only invite suspicion, so matching the schedule was far more comfortable.
“Huh? Big brother, is something wrong?”
Luise, who had been kneading fresh dough, scurried over. For a moment I considered pinning it on the principal or vice-principal, but inventing an excuse without coordinating first would only cause headaches if I got caught.
“Just going to get some air. All this greeting is tiring.”
“You did seem to have a lot of visitors, big brother.”
Luise nodded with a bright smile at my words. So you’d noticed how many there were too? There really were this many trainers after a quasi-legendary Pokémon.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t worry.”
“Take your time.”
“Everyone’s working hard, so it wouldn’t feel right for me to rest alone. Ah—keep a good eye on that one.”
“Chief, do you by any chance know about labor laws?”
“Ahaha…”
Watching Section Chief One grumble and Luise laugh awkwardly, I approached Villar. He’d come because I’d called him; for me to leave without a word would be rude and embarrassing.
“If anything happens while I’m gone, please contact me immediately. I’ll return as quickly as possible.”
“Understood. We’ll focus on cleanup until you return.”
“I’m grateful for that.”
I nodded at Villar’s reply and turned away. That should be enough; now off to the main building.
Villar watched the Audit Inspector’s retreating back until it disappeared, then shifted his gaze.
Something’s about to go down.
The appearance of the woman who was supposedly the Inspector’s subordinate, the subtle reactions of the imperial nobles afterward, and finally the Inspector suddenly stepping away—every circumstance pointed to an incident about to erupt.
The Inspector had claimed the subordinate was simply an Academy graduate who’d come to enjoy the expo, but of course that was nothing to believe. A high-ranking official who could treat the Audit Department Chief so casually had simply come to the Academy to play? Ridiculous.
In other words: mind your own business.
The message was that she had simply happened to visit the Academy, so the Three Kingdoms had nothing to concern themselves with. Put more bluntly and roughly: “Shut up and stay out of imperial affairs.” What choice was there? If the Empire took that stance, there was nothing to be done.
Imperial territory, an imperial educational institution, crowded with imperial nobles. Even if negotiations with the Three Kingdoms had withdrawn part of the Empire’s forces from the Academy, raising objections to imperial movements in such an exceptional situation carried heavy risk. One misstep and it would be called interference in internal affairs.
The Inspector surely knew the Three Kingdoms would not take his words at face value. He also knew that even if they didn’t believe him, there was little they could do about it. Their conversation had been nothing more than both sides handing each other convenient justifications.
As he recalled the Inspector’s words, Villar’s gaze turned to the white-haired woman. He had lived his entire life as a knight, and that skill and experience had earned him a place in the royal knight order. Because of that, he possessed a modest talent for reading an opponent’s capability and atmosphere.
Dreadful.
And Villar’s senses were warning him that the woman claiming to be a subordinate was a dangerous existence. He felt as if a thick stench of blood were rolling off her. Even those crimson eyes looked like pools formed by collected blood. For someone like that to come to the Academy—just how vicious a matter was about to unfold?
…Though it doesn’t feel particularly new.
He started to raise his guard at the appearance of a dangerous being, only for the thought to reach an even more dangerous higher existence and render the effort pointless.
Villar’s gaze drifted toward the direction the Inspector had vanished. The most dangerous existence of all was already staying at the Academy; worrying about this felt far too belated.
A thick stench of blood? Pools formed by collected blood? That was almost cute by comparison. The Inspector was something far beyond that. He still remembered how badly he had flinched the first time he faced the man. He’d wanted to protest that letting a monster like that into the Academy was practically a declaration of war.
At least the man was someone you could hold a normal conversation with—and a blunt, honest type at that, which made it even better. There was no existence closer to catastrophe than a monster who hid his true thoughts.
The man who killed Kagan, hiding his true intentions…
A monster who had upheld the Empire’s mandate, a man who brought to mind not mere pools of blood but mountains of corpses and seas of blood. If a monster like that concealed his heart and toyed with the Three Kingdoms, it would truly be a calamity.
Villar let out a quiet sigh and shook off the thoughts. Fortunately, the present Audit Inspector was not that kind of monster. That was enough. At the very least, that blade would not be turned toward the Three Kingdoms.
Everyone must have gone out to enjoy the expo; the main building was quite deserted. I didn’t run into a single person all the way up to the second floor. The places that still had people would be higher than the second floor, which made it perfect for a discreet meeting.
I waited quietly at the appointed place on the second floor, and in the distance a middle-aged man approached. Completely different in appearance from the young man who had handed over the scrap of paper.
He already switched looks again.
But it was the same person. Someone who changed his exterior so constantly could easily transform into an entirely different face in an hour. The young man’s appearance had been a disguise to begin with, so it didn’t mean much either. I’d never seen this man’s real face myself. Had the Intelligence Director ever seen it?
“Chief of the Audit Department. Have you been well?”
“Yeah. Seeing you again after just one hour. How’s the Deputy Director of Intelligence been?”
Unlike the extreme indoor-type Intelligence Director, the Deputy Director of Intelligence was the extreme outdoor type—a veteran civil servant who, together with the Director, constantly updated the record for never clocking out.
“Same as always, of course.”
That reply carried the meaning: “Same as always—not good.”
Ordinarily a deputy director assisted the director’s work and coordinated the department as the number two, but the Deputy Director of Intelligence, cursed with talent specialized for espionage, was a wanderer who roamed the outside world like a madman. Of course he couldn’t have been doing well. I knew that, but I’d asked out of courtesy.
“You’re busy, so I’ll keep this brief.”
“Good. What’s the matter?”
“Around five o’clock tomorrow afternoon, a corpse will appear.”
I nodded at those words. The people who were going to come were bound to come, so it wasn’t particularly surprising. More important matters lay elsewhere anyway.
“Support?”
“His Excellency the Minister has dispatched the Mukgwangdae.”
“Oh.”
A short exclamation slipped out of me before I could stop it. The Minister of Special Affairs had said he would carefully select them, so I’d expected something, but I truly hadn’t thought he would send the Mukgwangdae. Among the units under the Ministry of Special Affairs it ranked fairly high; it felt a little wasteful to send them for something like this.
“His Excellency is taking a great deal of interest.”
“Well, the Mukgwangdae is perfect for operating together with you, Chief.”
“You knew that and still took them for Special Affairs?”
“Haha, my apologies. But the reorganization went that way, didn’t it? We couldn’t refuse a command from the Imperial Family.”
I let out a snort of laughter at the Deputy Director’s banter. I knew that perfectly well myself. I’d only been able to hand the Mukgwangdae over to Special Affairs because of that all-purpose excuse called an Imperial command.
“The Mukgwangdae will contact you first, Chief. Of course you’re free to contact them first as well. If the message comes from you, they’ll receive it with joy.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks for letting me know.”
“This kind of messenger work is my job, after all.”
Well, for a messenger he had far too many duties.
In any case the Deputy Director finished with those words, exchanged farewells, and vanished. I set off again to return to the booth.
The Mukgwangdae, huh.
My steps toward the booth felt lighter than before. I was going to see some welcome faces, so of course my mood improved.
The Mukgwangdae—one of the units under the Ministry of Special Affairs. To call them by the name more familiar to me: the former Fourth Division of the Audit Department.