Do I Look Like Water to You?
A bright, sunny afternoon.
Greyton Figarow, Chairman of the Emergency Response Committee, was cutting roses in the greenhouse.
Snap.
The instant he set the garden shears to the rose stem and snipped, the flower’s life simply died.
He tilted his head, puzzled, and tried another stem. This time the stalk blackened and withered on the spot.
Sensing something wrong, Greyton turned.
A black silhouette sat on the garden chair.
It was Double Crown.
Double Crown wiped the toe of his shoe with a white handkerchief, then rose with a sly smile. Peeling the white gloves from his hands, he spoke toward Greyton.
“The Emergency Response Committee isn’t some children’s game…”
With every step Double Crown took toward him, Greyton retreated under the crushing weight of that presence.
“Did you shove the personal protection for the woman who was taken hostage up your own nose? Seeing how you shove her first into the most dangerous sites…”
Greyton’s face went paper-white.
“Do I, Double Crown, look like water to you?”
Now standing right in front of him, Double Crown seized the garden shears with telekinesis and thrust them toward the space between Greyton’s nostrils as if ready to snip.
“Huk! Hey…. Calm down!”
“So while you’re living off the people’s taxes, you couldn’t even do the job right? How the hell did you train those department-head bastards that Jeffbery ends up used as your errand girl for overtime? I wonder if workers’ comp even covers this.”
Twisting his face into something vicious, Double Crown tilted the shears at an angle.
Greyton waved both hands frantically.
“Hey, I’ll set the department heads straight right away. Please just put those shears down.”
“I don’t wanna.”
Double Crown measured angles this way and that, lining the blades up against Greyton’s face.
“Hey, what exactly do you want?”
Greyton was quietly buying time, reaching for the automatic call button installed in the greenhouse so he could signal the danger. Press that button and the current situation would transmit straight to the Central Intelligence Agency’s Criminal Investigation Division. The CCTV feed inside the greenhouse would stream live over the airwaves.
Watching Greyton back away step by step while stretching a hand toward the button, Double Crown sneered.
“Gonna press the button? Go ahead. Only I can’t guarantee what’ll happen next.”
To the startled Greyton, Double Crown snickered.
“Who knows? Maybe the Central Intelligence Agency building blows sky-high the second you hit it. I’ve only set up the connection—I’ve never actually tried it—so I’m curious myself.”
The hand reaching for the button froze.
Cold sweat beaded on Greyton’s forehead.
“You planted bombs?”
Without a word, Double Crown nodded.
“Aren’t the Emergency Response Committee and the Central Intelligence Agency just eyeing each other warily, keeping each other in check? I figured I’d tidy up one of them for you this time. Neither of them does work I like, but since Jeffbery’s there, if I have to pick one to leave standing, it’d be the Emergency Response Committee.”
Reading between Double Crown’s lines, the meaning seemed clear: You’re only alive thanks to Jeffbery. So why the hell are you using Jeffbery for menial labor? Something like that. He’d publicly declared his love for Jeffbery—had it been the real thing all along?
“Well, there seems to be some misunderstanding…. Jeffbery has exceptional talent for restoration even among mages. That’s why.”
“I know, I know. Jeffbery’s specialty is Cleanse. But if you’re just going to throw her at every little job, what’s the point of having Magitech Clean Dumps? Beating one person half to death just to save on execution costs—is that an institution or a pack of thugs? I’ll clean out this rotten department for you this time, so Chairman, either replace the 3rd Department Heads or beat some sense into them—manage it however you like.”
Double Crown checked his wristwatch as he spoke.
“Exactly three days!”
That this was no joke was obvious from the garden shears in his hand, which now roamed the greenhouse without mercy, withering every rose vine in a desolate sweep.
“In all my life, I’m even pruning someone else’s garden. Did you know every last one of these is diseased? It wasn’t me. The roses are rotting from the inside out because of the Chairman’s corruption.”
“Wh-what……?”
“The Ash Witch……. You’re the one who handed over Heil Lake, right?”
How did he……. Greyton’s complexion turned ashen.
“With as many as three hundred witches occupying the place, there’s no way the Empire would have simply given it up, so I looked into it out of curiosity. Who would’ve thought the approval ledger would have the Chairman’s signature sitting right there? The Emergency Response Committee Chairman abusing his authority to sell national land dirt-cheap to dangerous witches. How about it? Press the button here? Or should I tip the Central Intelligence Agency off about the whole thing……? Blowing up the Intelligence Agency looks like a massive win for you!”
“Please stop! I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Muhahaha.”
Double Crown laughed wickedly.
“I’ve set the detonator formula to go off exactly three days from now. Immediately stop deploying Jeffbery to Heil Lake for restoration and evidence destruction, and close the site. You know how dangerous it is with people coming and going there, right? With that many witches submerged, the miasma emissions are enormous. Until you run the mana purifiers and properly restore it, no one—including Jeffbery—is to set foot inside.”
Greyton slowly nodded.
“Alright! Then hop to it. Depending on how you perform, I might blow up the Emergency Response Committee instead of the Central Intelligence Agency. Changing the calculation formula to move the magic circle is a piece of cake for me.”
Double Crown winked with a sly smile.
Seized by the scruff of the neck and kicked out of the greenhouse, Greyton started running for his life.
“Damn……. How the hell did he find out?”
Watching the Chairman scramble away, I finally let out a long breath of relief.
“Simply,” my ass. Installing the bombs and rewriting the magic formulas had been no ordinary chore.
The calculation had originally been set up to turn Heil Lake into complete ash, but it ended up being used to scare him like this instead.
Even if I reduce it to ash, it has to be after some ventilation for safety. Detonating it while the place is still packed full of miasma would be the same as setting off a nuclear-grade toxic bomb.
Come to think of it again, I’m pissed as hell.
Sending Jeffbery into that dangerous site without proper equipment.
I can only hope the Chairman properly thrashes those empty-headed 3rd Department Head bastards.
The reason I stepped in like this was, above all, for the safety of Jeffbery and the citizens.
I also didn’t like the way those pathetic Central Intelligence Agency and Emergency Response Committee did their work.
They only listen after you kick their asses.
Back at Demarken House, I spun the crystal orb and peered into the basement of the Central Intelligence Agency where the bombs were installed.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Along with the sound of the second hand turning, the gears meshed and turned with perfect precision.
By now the Chairman must be sweating bullets, agonizing over whether to stop a terrorist attack on a government agency or press the button himself to bury his own corruption.
I had planted bombs in exactly three places.
The Central Intelligence Agency basement, the Emergency Response Committee control tower, and the bottom of Heil Lake.
The calculation is currently linked only to the Central Intelligence Agency, but if necessary I plan to activate all three.
Why?
Because these three places will soon become the witches’ main bases the moment they awaken.
Places equipped with every facility needed to control the Empire.
The moment they fall to the witches, humanity will essentially hand over all power.
It’s safer to simply erase such places before the facilities can be taken over.
I said I’d leave the Emergency Response Committee standing because of Jeffbery, but well…….
After safely detonating Heil Lake, sequentially removing all three is the correct call.
If I can manage that process with as little damage as possible to my favorite character—preferably elevating her standing while I’m at it—that would be a success.
Giving Dwight an appropriate role too so their romance can ripen—hmm……. Just thinking about it gets me all excited.
Whoosh.
Thud.
Jeffbery had just finished clearing away tree roots that had hardened like boulders, using a web-like framework she had woven.
In the distance, Chairman Greyton came running, both arms flailing.
“Stop……. I said stop!”
Panting so hard his breath scraped his chin, the Chairman grabbed Jeffbery’s shoulder.
“Jeffbery, I’ve been treating a talent like you far too carelessly.”
“What’s the matter, Chairman!”
2nd Department Head Michael greeted Greyton with a stiff, formal bow, folder in hand.
Unlike Jeffbery, who was coated in dust and stained all over from field work, Michael looked perfectly neat.
Greyton, clearly at a loss, turned to Jeffbery.
“My thinking was shortsighted. I should have safely protected the woman who had been taken hostage. I’m truly sorry, Jeffbery Shut. You should head home now. I’ll assign an escort.”
Looking bewildered, Jeffbery answered.
“But the site cleanup isn’t finished yet?”
“We’re closing this place down.”
“No, what do you mean by that? Closing it?”
2nd Department Head Michael stepped forward to object.
Greyton’s expression turned menacing the moment he looked at him.
“Did you hold a 3rd Department Head party without me? Looking splendid.”
When the Chairman came out like that, it was a signal that something had gone badly wrong.
Michael’s expression rapidly shrank.
How much is this bastard going to flip out—that was the feeling.
“All 3rd Department Heads, assemble at headquarters! Immediately!”