Crow
“So… to sum it up, ‘I just recommended the investment, but the guys who bought in are the ones making a fuss’?”
“Exactly! That’s it. I still don’t get why I have to be here for ‘safety reasons,’ Vice Warden Seolhwa.”
“Uh… yeah, sure. I heard you loud and clear. Well, I’ll be going now.”
“By the way, Vice Warden, before I came in, I’ve got this killer piece of info I’ve been sitting on. Wanna hear it? Vice Warden? Vice Warden!”
Ignoring the prisoner’s sales pitch—which made it impossible to tell if this was the empire’s top-security prison or a new land development office—Seolhwa headed off to find the next inmate.
After that guy, I think I’ve seen pretty much everyone…
It had been three days since Seolhwa started listening to the prisoners’ stories, following what was more advice than not from Utopia’s warden, Jepeto. He was grateful there weren’t that many inmates compared to a regular prison. Just as he turned a corner—
Thud.
Something collided with him, and a black wall appeared right in front of Seolhwa’s eyes.
“…My apologies. Vice Warden Seolhwa Romanov.”
“I didn’t see you either, so we’re even. Uh… sorry, who might you be?”
The man, dressed head to toe in a black work uniform, frowned slightly.
“As the warden said, it’s good to hear out the prisoners, but shouldn’t you first memorize the faces of the guards you work with?”
“My bad… ah!”
Unlike the other guards, these ones wore all black, with a lightning-and-shield emblem on their chests. And among them, the one built like this was—
“Captain of the Mobile Patrol Team. You weren’t at the morning briefing, so I forgot. Ah…”
While Seolhwa puzzled over the man’s identity, the captain moved with surprising agility for his size and was already on his way.
What’s his deal? Does he have a grudge against me or something?
“Oh!… The vice warden’s here… I was waiting… thought I was gonna… kick the bucket…”
Still debating whether to feel baffled or kick himself for not recognizing the guy at first, Seolhwa heard another prisoner’s voice from behind. The aged tone promised a long tale. Deciding to fix the awkward first impression with the captain later, Seolhwa plastered on a friendly smile and approached the next inmate.
“What do you think?”
“What do I think about what?”
The office was thick with cigar smoke, the secretary having stepped out.
Unlike Seolhwa, who was voluntarily abstaining from smoking, this guest was a chain-smoker rivaling Jepeto.
“Think you can retire this time?”
“Who knows.”
Jepeto took a light drag, savoring it. He exhaled, trading mouth moisture for a bouquet of flavors. Silence lingered until the aftertaste faded.
“The emperor’s visit here is coming up soon.”
“So is the day I announce my retirement.”
“You know he won’t accept it, right?”
“Kehahaha! I didn’t exactly get permission to come here in the first place… so maybe I’ll just do the same this time.”
Boisterous laughter cut through the haze. One of the few who could indulge Jepeto’s idle chatter, Ilka Pavola continued.
“Not that I, enjoying my twilight years thanks to our warden, should say this, but…”
“You’ve already started with a line that makes it impossible not to listen—what’re you hesitating for?”
“Word is, the ‘Lowest Duke’ is pressuring the Border Count here.”
“Is it that shocking he’s not hiding his dark intentions?”
“This time, the intensity’s different. Rumor has it he’s coming along on the emperor’s tour.”
“For real!?”
The world had gone mad. Emperor or duke, no one could just waltz into a border lord’s domain and dictate terms. Jepeto clicked his tongue at the upside-down continent, but his face gleamed with eager anticipation, belying his words.
“The Gold Horse… ahem, the Lowest Duke’s demands on the Border Count must be…”
“Probably support for a new war, I’d wager.”
Ilka stifled a laugh at Jepeto, puffing smoke like a forge bellows, then calmly set his cigar down.
“He profited most from the last war. Not sure if he’s digested that bloated power yet, but greed’s fired up again.”
“Or maybe he has no choice but to start one.”
“What reason would that be?”
“As you said, Prime Minister, the Lowest Duke ballooned his forces dramatically—and it wasn’t clean. Filthy with blood and gold.”
Jepeto had no intention of setting down his half-smoked cigar.
“And as the empire stabilizes, folks start grumbling about his power.”
“So he creates an external enemy to squash internal dissent?”
“A common foe’s perfect for smothering complaints.”
Ilka eyed his extinguished cigar wistfully, then popped a sour-looking bright yellow candy from a glass jar instead, wincing as it hit his tongue.
“Fair enough… not the first time. Given how the last war ended, it’s no surprise.”
“Wonder if this emperor’ll differ from his predecessor… Watching should be fun.”
“And what moves our vice warden makes amid it all—that’ll be quite the spectacle.”
“Especially since I plan to set the stage just right!”
The hearty laughter of once-history-shaping giants, now aged, echoed through Utopia.
“Of course, of course. You’re absolutely right, sir. Yes. Yes. I’ll head out.”
Balancing boxes stuffed with local specialties in both hands, Seolhwa bowed. The elderly prisoner returned the gesture with grandfatherly eyes.
A wave of mental fatigue crashed over him. Expected from inmates, sure, but hearing sob stories of innocence from every single one was exhausting.
Ha… but seriously, what am I supposed to do with all this?
As Seolhwa pondered uses for his unwanted gifts, a faint tremor shook the entire building.
Earthquake? Does Manrmursk even get those?
Heh heh. Ahem. This is a broadcast from Utopia Control Center. An executive meeting will be held at 18:00 shortly. All executive-level guards of Utopia, please attend without exception.
Rebroadcasting. Shortly at 18:00.
17:30! Even if I say come by 17:30, those bastards won’t… #$@.
An executive meeting will be held shortly at 17:30. All executive-level guards, please attend without exception. Oh, and whoever has the key to Armory Locker 10, come to Control Center immediately! That is all.
Morning reports get glossed over, but they hold a separate executive meeting?
Setting aside thoughts of the specialties, Seolhwa headed to the cafeteria. He half-acknowledged greetings from passing guards and arrived to find Chief Clerk Helena seated there.
“Fancy meeting you here again, Chief Clerk.”
“Indeed. What brings the vice warden to the cafeteria at this hour?”
Instead of answering, Seolhwa shook the box in front of him and approached the kitchen. He explained the situation to the puzzled head chef and handed over the box.
“Got an unexpected gift. Too much for one person, so I figured I’d ask you to whip something up with it.”
“Southern sea squid—this stuff’s hard to get these days! Where’d you score this much!?”
The chef’s grin stretched ear to ear—actually past it—as he snatched the box with eager hands. Seolhwa’s mood lifted at the enthusiastic response.
“Shall we go, then?”
“Yes.”
Heading back to Control Center the way they came, Seolhwa asked, “Is the executive meeting usually at this time?”
“No. The warden finds them a… hassle, so they’re rare.”
“Any idea what this one’s about?”
“Not exactly, but… probably the emperor’s inspection tour schedule?”
“Pardon?”
Helena’s golden hair swayed lightly as she turned the corner. Seolhwa, who tied his longish hair for a man, still found the upkeep on hair that length dizzying to imagine.
“Manrmursk is the Border Count’s domain, sharing a border with foreign lands, and home to Utopia—a special place. The emperor always stops here during tours.”
“And that season’s now?”
“Not certain, but if the warden’s calling a meeting, it’s likely that big.”
The emperor…
Seolhwa had skipped the academy entrance ceremony and missed the emperor at graduation.
Too bad I missed him at graduation… this works out perfectly.
He hadn’t tossed aside his top-of-class golden ticket to rot in this backwater prison for nothing. With the emperor’s visit suddenly on the horizon, he needed to sift Utopia’s inmates for gems and recruit as many as possible, fast.
No need to rush, though. Just meeting the emperor this time would be harvest enough.
Lost in thought, he arrived at Control Center before he knew it. Unlike before, he didn’t need to hold the chief clerk’s hand to enter, but Seolhwa pretended otherwise and offered his.
Helena flashed a brief puzzled look, then a small enigmatic smile as she took it.
“Oh, Vice Warden, Chief Clerk. With you two here, everyone’s arrived. But… why the hand-holding?”
“I’m not registered for the security barrier yet.”
“Really? Support Officer?”
“Huh? That can’t be… I’ll check again. Sorry.”
Seolhwa shot the support officer a mental wink of apology as he pulled out a chair. Still mulling the morning run-in with the patrol captain, he scanned the executive guards’ faces and name tags.
“I’m retiring.”
Jepeto’s blunt declaration rocked the Utopia meeting room. Just then, white sky trash began falling outside the window.
His words, the indifferent snow—both beautiful, save for the cleanup he’d have to do.