Golden Bell (1)
Shortly after the silver-haired elf’s trial concluded, officials from the National Tax Service stormed in.
“Everyone, stop what you’re doing and stand up.”
A tax investigator with a sour expression leaned against the doorframe and issued the order.
“You there, the dwarf. Don’t touch anything. We’d rather not have to resort to freezing magic.”
He swept his gaze around the office with his chin raised high, then assigned search zones to the ten or so staff members accompanying him.
“Search thoroughly. Check every inch, including the spaces between the ceiling and pillars. There might be spatial distortion magic, so don’t forget to scan with detection spells as well.”
More than a dozen people crammed into an office smaller than twenty pyeong.
The sight of men in black suits running their hands over walls and pillars reminded me of ants swarming a sugar-water box.
“On what grounds are you investigating?”
Marian snapped at the ants hunting for sugar water.
“Here’s the warrant.”
The document the investigator produced contained only a few crudely written lines.
[Search warrant for tax evasion. Valid until sunset.]
“Ha! Isn’t issuing a blanket warrant without specifying the charges illegal?”
Marian had already picked up the basics of being a prosecutor.
Even amid the chaos, I felt a flicker of pride at her growth.
She was right. Blanket warrants are illegal.
Without a specific criminal allegation, it’s no different from declaring they’ll keep digging until something turns up.
“Sunbae, say something too!”
Marian huffed, then turned to me as I stood there blankly.
Following her cue, I addressed the investigator.
“We’re going out for lunch. Contact us when you’re finished.”
The investigator’s face twisted in disbelief.
“Excuse me?”
“Call us when you’re done.”
“Ah…”
“Do we need to stay here?”
“Not necessarily, but…”
The investigator trailed off, clearly flustered.
“Understood, then.”
As we turned to leave, his voice followed us.
“Wait, aren’t you going to stop us from seizing documents?”
I didn’t answer.
I dragged Marian, who was still puffing like a goldfish, out of the office and headed to a nearby restaurant.
Piaget, already changed into a sharp suit, sat waiting at a table.
After carefully scanning the menu, she selected the most expensive course with the greatest variety of dishes.
It had been a while since we’d enjoyed a leisurely meal.
“Sunbae, aren’t you upset? Anyone can see this is Gonzales, that old raccoon’s doing!”
Gonzales was the father of the silver-haired elf who had been imprisoned a few days earlier.
He was also the powerful deputy commissioner of the National Tax Service.
“Probably.”
I muttered while spearing a perfectly cooked steak with my fork.
“Then you should explain yourself on the spot. How can you just walk out saying ‘Go ahead and eat me’?”
Marian raised her voice in frustration.
“It’s a tax audit.”
“Exactly!”
“Have we evaded any taxes? Missed any filings?”
At my question, Piaget, who had been wiping her lips with a napkin while keeping her eyes lowered, spoke up.
“Me? Of course not. I just treat the bills that arrive as routine.”
Bills, huh…
Now that she mentioned it, that was an apt description.
Whenever my hormones malfunctioned and I started spouting nonsense about justice, it was just the cost of doing business.
People in power had a habit of fabricating creative charges, seizing documents, summoning family members or lovers, and tormenting them for days whenever someone dared to cross them.
This time was no different from the past.
“Ha… It’s so unfair.”
Piaget’s lips curled into a crooked smile at the spoiled-young-lady remark from the military-factory heiress.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
Marian flushed with indignation, but Piaget and I simply smiled and focused on our plates.
I had expected this, yet knowing it was coming didn’t make the irritation disappear.
When something bothers you, it helps to focus on something else.
Eating good food, for instance. Or sleeping a lot.
“Let’s just take it easy. Do whatever you want for now.”
That was my honest feeling.
Taking a short break during this mess might not be so bad.
* * *
The day after the tax audit.
The Audit Bureau under the Prime Minister’s Office came for an inspection.
For reference, the Prime Minister’s Office was the superior agency to the Capital Defense Command and held audit authority over its subordinate organizations and personnel.
“We received a tip.”
The problem was that they wielded that authority exclusively against the Capital Defense Command, which they viewed as their political rivals.
Still, it was a lawful official duty, so there was nothing to be done.
“Prime Minister’s Office Audit Bureau. Cease all operations immediately and surrender all documents—”
“They’re gone.”
Marian stepped forward.
She was wearing a tracksuit and slippers, as if she had anticipated this.
“What?”
“They already took everything.”
“What do you mean…”
“The National Tax Service cleaned us out yesterday.”
“The Audit Bureau investigates corruption, not tax records—”
“They took everything.”
She showed them the empty office.
The audit investigator furrowed his brow deeply, perhaps casting detection magic, and tried various spells before tilting his head.
“It’s true.”
“Go to the National Tax Service, review the documents, organize them, and return them.”
“That’s the National Tax Service’s—”
“The Audit Bureau will have the final look anyway. You know the duty to restore everything to its original state, don’t you? Just follow procedure.”
“Ha… Give me the name of the person who will receive the return.”
The audit investigator tossed a notebook onto the empty table.
Apparently, I was supposed to write it myself.
Marian shuffled over in her slippers and wrote down a name.
“Hmm… Marian Artisian?”
“Yes.”
“The Artisian Group’s Artisian?”
The investigator alternated glances between the notebook and Marian’s face.
“Did I write it wrong?”
“No, but… the defense-industry Artisian?”
“Yes. Do you know my father?”
What a waste to keep her to ourselves.
The flustered look on the investigator’s face contrasted with Marian’s clear, innocent expression.
“We’ll organize everything and return it neatly.”
The color had drained completely from the investigator’s face. He looked pale.
“Thank you for your trouble.”
“Yes, sorry for the inconvenience.”
Unlike the confident way he had kicked the door open upon arrival, he closed it politely on his way out.
“Whew… Still better than the tax investigators.”
“That’s… Never mind. You’ll get used to it someday.”
Piaget, with her usual detached expression, clasped her hands behind her back as she surveyed the empty office.
She had been tying on an apron.
“Let’s clean. It’s easiest to do a deep clean when everything’s already cleared out.”
Having endured this sort of thing to the point of exhaustion, Piaget had apparently developed her own coping strategies.
She had even prepared an extra apron.
“Don’t overdo it. Go home early.”
I said this to Marian, who was staring blankly at the pink lace apron now in her hands.
“Sunbae, where are you going?”
“Capital Defense Command.”
“Are you finally making a move, sunbae? Talk to Director Frida and show those National Tax Service and Audit Bureau bastards what’s what.”
“…Director Frida is on a business trip.”
“Then why are you going to the Capital Defense Command?”
“To renew my prosecutor’s license.”
“Oh…”
I had developed my own routines as well.
* * *
When you work as an investigator, there are times you have to steel yourself.
You might receive unfair personnel actions or get caught up in false accusations and disappear without a trace.
That’s the weight of the crown…
Or perhaps the fate of those who wield the sword?
Still, this was a bit much, wasn’t it?
“What did you say?”
Piaget had brought me a summons that had arrived at the office.
“Ahem. Hmm.”
Piaget kept clearing her throat.
“Office manager, I must have misheard. What crime?”
“Fraud.”
“What? Ha… Seriously. What fraud am I supposed to have committed?”
“Ahem. Ahem. Ahem.”
“For goodness’ sake, you’re going to cough up a lung. It should be written on the summons!”
“Ahem… Hmm. D-dine and dash.”
“…No. Who? Where?”
“Prosecutor Zeo. At the tavern and restaurant right in front of here.”
Apparently, I had dined and dashed at nearby establishments.
More precisely, the owners claimed I had bragged about my identity and refused to pay, causing damages, and demanded I report to the police station for questioning.
“Ha!”
This was unacceptable.
There were limits.
Dine and dash?
The total bill was a mere 25,000 cram.
That was nothing compared to what I earned from solving a single case.
I had tried to endure it, but this was too much.
“Who do they think they’re treating like a common criminal!”
“Prosecutor, please calm down for a moment…”
“Which police station is it?”
* * *
I headed straight to the police station.
“Identification, please.”
The wolfwere guard at the entrance had eyes that had turned blue, perhaps because it was nearing the full moon.
“Here. Zeo Blood.”
“Where are you headed?”
“The, the Economic Crimes Unit.”
Ah, I had unconsciously shrunk back.
The Economic Crimes Unit.
Whoever named the team had already made it insulting before the investigation even began.
“Turn left and go to the second floor of the building you see.”
The guard glanced at my ID and face before speaking as if swatting away a fly.
His glowing blue eyes were filled with pity.
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
Seeing that look made the anger I had barely suppressed rise again.
“Yes, yes. Everyone says that.”
The guard scratched his fluffy forearm and looked away.
Inside the area I was directed to, all sorts of petty criminals were being questioned.
“I’m telling you, it’s not true. Why would I steal that?”
“Is picking up something that fell at my feet and using it a crime too? This is clearly a setup.”
“I only took one bite.”
“Her hips were just so tempting that I touched them once… Officer, I was wrong.”
It was chaos.
From pickpockets to sexual harassers.
I had been thrown into the same basket as these disgusting people.
“Mr. Zeo Blood? Over here.”
When I looked around, a long arm shot up from the mess.
Quick movements and polite greetings.
Clearly a rookie who had just been assigned.
“P-please have a seat.”
The rookie investigator who introduced himself as Federer had even unfolded a folding chair for me.
Watching the police officer’s polite yet clumsy demeanor made my boiling anger subside slightly.
If they were assigning this case to a complete novice, the allegations themselves must be flimsy.
Besides, I hadn’t committed any dine-and-dash in the first place.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Hunter.”
“Ah, I don’t do labyrinth hunting anymore.”
“Yes, you’re working as a freelance prosecutor now. But after seeing the recent news about the Mosquito takedown, I thought you could return to the field without any issues…”
The rookie investigator with a strange glint in his eyes kept rambling on his own.
The longer he talked, the more I doubted the sincerity of this case.
People in the wrong usually talked too much.
“So, isn’t the target of the complaint mistaken?”
I asked Federer.
“The victims specifically named you, Prosecutor, when they reported.”
“Ha… What on earth. Who exactly?”
“You know we can’t disclose victim information.”
“That’s exactly why it’s frustrating!”
Federer looked at me with a knowing yet ambiguous smile.
“Prosecutor, have you experienced something like this before?”
He asked in a suggestive tone.
“This is the first time. Something this absurd.”
“Then have you been through any major events recently?”
“No.”
“Anything shocking?”
“I don’t get shocked by such things.”
“Then, have you felt any intense impulses or mysterious desires to possess something…?”
“?”
The more I listened, the stranger it seemed.
It felt like he was trying to paint me as a kleptomaniac.
If I kept talking to him, things would only get weirder.
“Investigator Federer, it seems you have something else you want to say. Feel free to speak plainly.”
After hesitating for a long time, the investigator finally spoke.
“It’s just that it doesn’t make any sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“Thirty-two different stores filed identical complaints at the same time. They all said you dined and dashed.”
My face, reflected in the desk mirror on the investigator’s table, had turned deathly pale.