Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Phantom Thief Dauphin (8) - Playing with the Law
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The shock she had been bracing for never came, and Dalia cautiously opened her eyes.
The first thing that entered her vision was a man who had stepped in to block the blade that had been about to strike her down.
"Please stop this now. I can well understand your feelings of injustice and resentment, but it is not right to place that blame on this young lady."
"Y-You! Let go! Let me go!"
The old woman thrashed her entire body, trying to wrench her wrist free from the man's grip, but the only result was a slight shake of her arm.
Changing tactics, the old woman began screaming at the man.
"Who the hell are you?! What do you even know to butt in like this?! It would've been fine if it wasn't for this bitch! If not for her, that son of a bitch would've gotten what he deserved! If it's not this bitch's fault for stopping it, then whose is it?!"
"Elder, how can you ask others for an answer when you just said it yourself?"
"What?"
In response to the old woman's words, the man replied calmly.
"If you're asking who is at fault, then of course it's that 'son of a bitch' you mentioned—the tax officer."
The people around them gasped.
The difference between the old woman raving madly in her fury and this utterly ordinary-looking man stating it matter-of-factly in a perfectly serene tone was like night and day, even if the content was the same.
As the onlookers furtively glanced around, the man continued nonchalantly.
"As for the second-worst culprit, there might be some debate. It could be the lord of the territory, the highest authority here, or perhaps the company commander representing the guard, or even the judge who acquitted the tax officer."
The man explained patiently to the old woman.
"It's hard to say this guardswoman bears absolutely no guilt, but at least her fault isn't as great as those others. Ah, of course, she might be a more appealing target for revenge. The others would've killed you outright the moment you charged at them with a knife—or even when you first sprayed them with filthy water. But she didn't. In that sense, you've made a fairly wise choice."
The old woman's wrinkled eyes trembled.
Confronted with the truth she had desperately tried to ignore, her legs gave out, and she collapsed right there.
Seeing the old woman like a candle that had burned out completely, the people around shook their heads. Some clicked their tongues.
Quietly into the old woman's ear, the man added,
"Besides, Dauphin may have failed, but they haven't been caught yet. Wouldn't it be a shame to leave without seeing those 'real villains' I mentioned get their due, one by one?"
The old woman's eyes flew wide open.
As if she had rediscovered her will to live, which she had nearly let slip away, the man shrugged and stood up.
Right then, guards who had noticed the commotion arrived and shouted,
"Hey, what's all the racket?!"
To the guard, the man responded with an oddly ingratiating bow.
"Oh dear, this elder was trying to give this young lady all sorts of fruits as a gift, but in her haste, she tripped."
"Hmph."
The guards' eyes scanned the fruits scattered everywhere, the old woman sitting dazed on the ground with a bewildered look, and Dalia with a tomato splattered on her head.
Not recognizing Dalia in her plain clothes, one guard asked her,
"That true?"
The nearby merchants all swallowed hard in tension.
Dalia was always friendly and attentive to them, but that didn't change the fact that she was one of the platoon leaders in the guard company.
And not just any platoon leader—she was one whose star was rising fast these days. If she revealed the truth, the old woman would be in trouble, and they themselves might get dragged in for no reason.
But instead of revealing her identity or reporting the old woman's actions, Dalia simply nodded.
"Yes. It was just an accident on the elder's part, so no need to worry about it."
"...?"
The guard's expression flickered oddly for a moment upon hearing her voice, but since it wasn't her usual stiff tone from guard duty, he dismissed it as his imagination.
"Well, fine then. As long as there's no issue."
After the guards left.
The man spoke to Dalia, who was now a sorry sight.
"First off, you should probably wash up. My place is nearby, if you'd like to come along."
Dalia stared at the man for a moment, then nodded.
In Revruk, the term "upper-class district" carries a double meaning.
It refers to the area where the socially elite or wealthy live well, but it also literally means the upper reaches of the river.
Revruk is a city built around a river running through its center and the bridges connecting it. The upstream side has all sorts of water purification and sewage facilities functioning properly, but as you go downstream, their scale and maintenance deteriorate drastically.
Thus, one way to distinguish districts in Revruk is by checking if buildings there have bathing facilities.
In the upper-class areas, water is used lavishly even for bathing, so most estates of a certain size have them. But downstream, even drinking water becomes scarce, so private homes lack baths, and public bathhouses are rare.
In that sense, the mansion the man had brought Dalia to could be called a place embodying the middle-class dream of being accepted as upper-class.
Compared to the opulent buildings upstream, it was small and modest overall, but its bathing facilities were disproportionately lavish for its size.
A showerhead spraying water like rain from above? Honestly, even many upper-class mansions didn't have those.
Shaaaa...
Standing under the pouring water, Dalia thought,
'...Did I follow him too readily?'
No matter the circumstances, a woman going straight to a man's home after an invitation—especially to bathe—wasn't exactly proper by societal standards.
If her 8th Platoon subordinates found out, they'd make a huge fuss about her lacking caution and calling all men wolves.
Yet Dalia hadn't refused the man's offer for a clear reason.
If someone helped you, the least you could do was express proper gratitude.
Besides, if he had ulterior motives, she'd deal with it then.
She was confident she could protect herself barehanded.
Splash.
After finishing her shower and heading to where she'd left her clothes, Dalia blinked at the neatly folded new outfit beside them and the nearby hourglass.
「—I briefly considered laundering your soiled clothes, but that might come across as excessive courtesy bordering on rudeness, so I left them as is. The clothes nearby are cheaply bought from a clothing shop, so please use them without burden. I have sudden business and will step out briefly. I plan to return before the hourglass runs out, so I kindly ask you to wait just a little.」
"...He's proper."
Dalia wasn't particularly sharp about male-female relations, but she wasn't so obtuse as to miss that this "sudden business" was likely an excuse.
He knew it might be awkward for a woman to change clothes or emerge damp from a bath in front of an unfamiliar man on a first meeting, so he'd tactfully given her space.
Dalia pondered briefly between her original clothes and the new ones, then chose the new outfit.
The gross feeling of dirty clothes after washing could be endured, but ignoring such polite kindness felt harder for her.
The size was slightly large, likely eyeballed, but comfortable enough.
Actually, a perfect fit might have creeped her out more.
After tidying up and sitting in a chair in the mansion's central area to wait a while,
Just as the hourglass ran out, the front gate opened, and the man reappeared.
He gave Dalia an awkward smile.
"Haha, sorry about that. Terrible host, leaving a guest alone."
"You didn't have to lie."
"Lie? What do you mean?"
"I'll pretend you didn't, then."
Confirming the man sat across from her, Dalia bowed deeply.
"Thank you so much for earlier. Without your help, I would've been in real trouble."
"No, no, no thanks needed. I just stuck my nose in."
The man waved it off.
"I've only been in this city a short time, but even I know you and the 8th Platoon's guards work hard to protect people's safety and peace. It's hard to accept that the reward for that is blame from those you're protecting."
"...From her perspective, she had no choice. Even voicing complaints was risky, so that pain festered inside."
"That doesn't justify dumping the superiors' faults on someone giving their all at the scene."
The man's assertion was unwavering.
It came from absolute confidence in his words.
"Those who hurt that elder and her family, driving them to death—they must pay the price themselves. Not you in their place."
Though defending Dalia, she couldn't agree.
Her expression grew sterner.
"I appreciate the words, but be careful what you say. Criticizing or condemning the city's nobles or officials can itself be charged as insult."
"Oh? Does the city's law state that?"
"Precisely, it's the law of the Birka Kingdom."
"Got it. I'll watch it."
Surprised by his ready nod, Dalia relaxed her shoulders a bit.
But it was too soon.
"Mind if I ask a few questions?"
"Anything I can answer."
"Under Birka Kingdom law, how is the crime of defiling and driving an honest taxpayer's daughter to death handled?"
"......"
A shadow crossed Dalia's eyes for a moment.
"If a noble kills a dutiful commoner who paid taxes faithfully: three years' imprisonment, or a fine of 24 kingdom gold coins."
"Did the tax officer go to prison for three years or pay the fine?"
"...No evidence was secured that the elder's daughter was harmed by the tax officer. Thus, the case was ruled a simple suicide."
"I see."
The man's response was plain.
As if he'd expected it, Dalia averted her eyes in shame.
"So, if evidence had emerged, the tax officer would've chosen the fine, right? Better than prison, after all."
Dalia thought briefly, then nodded.
It seemed likely to her too.
"In that fine, does any go to the victim or their family? Or even without a fine, is there minimal compensation for the bereaved? Like condolence money from the territory, or at least a verbal apology."
"...I've heard that in some territories, the lord or deputy might offer such gifts at personal discretion."
"So legally, nothing like that."
"......Yes."
Dalia affirmed in a voice squeezed out.
The man tilted his head with a hum, then continued.
"The tax officer was the son of that bastard Count Sarnos... er, Count Sarnos's son, right? Legally, the 'fine' goes to the territory's lord."
"Yes."
"In other words: Count Sarnos's son kills someone, no compensation to the victim or family, perpetrator just hands money to his parents, case closed. Correct?"
"....... ......Yes."
Dalia squeezed her eyes shut, confessing like it was her own sin.
Dreading the next question but unable to storm off or snap, she heard the man say,
"—Then let's play a game."
A game.
At the absurd word, Dalia looked up.
"If it were you, how would you change the law? Fantasy, chit-chat, whatever—let's hear it."
"What are you...?"
The utterly ordinary-looking man said this with a mischievous glint that reminded her of someone from her memories.
"My first law: 'Bastards who make others cry get the death penalty, no mercy or bullshit extenuating circumstances!'"
"What the hell, you punk?"
Her depressive gloom vanished, flames igniting in Dalia's eyes.