I'm Not a Bad Person (3)
Two hours of patrol a day, max. That was the deal.
That promise didn't even last a full day. The first patrol alone ran an hour over, and most of that extra time was spent at the school.
And that dark-skinned guy with the scar had to endure the greatest humiliation of his life in front of a bunch of ten-year-olds. Balls kicked between his legs, balls straight to the face, tripping over his own feet—every disgrace soccer could possibly offer, one after another, until he finally got chewed out for good measure.
"What the hell was that kick?! Are your feet shaped like triangles?!"
"I am aware. However, this is not exactly our jo—"
"Hey! Ball's coming! Ball's coming! Focus!"
"Just a seco—ugh!"
"Ugh, you're seriously terrible. Just get in the back and play defense!"
"You... you little bastard...!"
He tried to cling to some shred of dignity, but in the end his temper snapped and he muttered curses under his breath. Thanks to Lia's orders, though, he couldn't say any of it out loud—so he was stuck nursing the wound in miserable silence, all by himself.
Once he started looking that pathetic, the frozen kids gradually found their laughter again. Only then did a little life finally seem to return to this gloomy city.
Yeah. If I'm stuck patrolling every day with a bunch of burly guys, I at least deserve a bit of entertainment. That thought had barely crossed my mind when one of the kids shuffled over to me, fidgeting.
"Um, mister. Are you coming again tomorrow?"
"Huh?"
"Hey...! I told you not to ask...!"
The other kids—and even the bandits sprawled exhausted in the grass—all looked horrified at the brave little one's question. In that atmosphere, the expected answer seemed pretty obvious. Unfortunately for everyone involved, I happen to like kids.
"Sure!"
"That son of a—!"
A vulgar curse landing on sacred school grounds marked the end of that day. Of course, the next day's patrol also stretched past three hours. And the day after that was no different.
Once I got into the swing of things, the other items I'd jotted down on my list started falling into place one by one—painting the building exteriors in fresher colors, inviting musicians out into the streets, and so on. The more work piled up, the more carefully the citizens started coming to me with requests of their own.
Three hours. Four hours. Five. The patrols that kept growing longer eventually blew past six hours without even breaking a sweat, and the bandit pack assigned to escort me grew more and more wrecked by the day. Watching them suffer was almost as fun as watching the streets come alive.
Is it really okay to make money like this? At some point I stopped worrying about it and threw myself entirely into turning this city into something like our village. No matter how much I liked it here, I was starting to miss home.
But if I missed home, why not just make this place exactly like it? That boneheaded logic turned out to be surprisingly effective, and the citizens didn't mind at all. If anything, they liked it. Who would complain about someone trying to make their town a little more lively?
She hadn't shown it yet, but Lia had to be enjoying this too.
"Master..."
"He really is entertaining, that man."
"..."
"I never imagined he'd go about it like this."
The girl's face reflected in the crimson-stained teacup. As if trying to shade away the faint flush of blood that had seeped into her expression, opaque moonlight spread across her troubled eyes.
What thoughts circled behind that cold face? Even the maid who had attended her since childhood couldn't begin to read them. All she could do was lay out dry facts—it was the only action available to her.
"A while ago, the Merchants' Guild sent a letter of thanks regarding the theater troupe invitation. The recipient is listed as Claus...sir, and they say they look forward to working with him further."
"And the letter next to it?"
"It's from the little school near the harbor. They want to talk about next month's soccer tournament..."
"And the ones beside that?"
"Letters from the children at that school. Every single one of them is addressed to Claus...sir as well."
Claus-sir. Even the honorific still didn't sit right on her tongue. That was how much of an outsider the man remained within this organization.
But the citizens saw things differently. Thanks to everything he had been doing, he was riding a wave of peak popularity in this city. In terms of standing alone, he might already outrank even the king of this country.
"The citizens' response has been excellent. Everyone respects Claus-sir, and the children follow him around calling him Uncle Claus."
"I've heard. Even some of the older merchants seem to call him that."
"Of course, Master said it didn't matter to you... but I'm a little uneasy. He hasn't even been in this city that long, and people are already—"
"What about the opinions of those watching him up close?"
At that, Lia turned her gaze toward the organization members on the other side of the room. Among them, the dark-skinned man with the scar looked like he had particularly much to say, and he spoke up first.
"He's completely out of control. Painting building walls however he likes, dragging those ridiculous clowns into the square... If it weren't for Master's orders, I would have taught him a proper lesson by now."
"You still don't understand, Jeff. He is not a man you can simply 'teach a lesson.' Did I overestimate your judgment?"
"That's... In any case, it seems like he's determined to make fools of us. The knight order must have given him orders to do exactly that."
"Hmm."
The other members nodded vigorously at his words, but Lia's thoughts ran differently. Even if the organization's image took a few hits, there was nothing for the knight order to gain from it. The opposite, if anything.
Still, the chaos he'd sown inside the organization was unmistakable. The Jeff she knew had his clumsy moments, but he was not the type to get this worked up so easily.
"You can't just leave him be like this, Master. You need to take some kind of action."
"I wonder. Perhaps that man genuinely likes our organization. On the surface, at least, it does look that way."
"You still think you can bring him over to our side?"
"In a manner of speaking. By the way—your right pinky nail. Did you paint that yourself?"
"Pardon? Ah... no, this is from when... the last time we visited the school, one thing led to another..."
For something that 'just happened,' it's quite carefully done. Lia imagined a little girl painting the nails of her organization members and allowed herself a cold smile. Only a few months ago, such a scene would have been unthinkable.
But the moment that man arrived, everything changed. The city. The people. Even the organization members themselves.
It wasn't only the citizens who were being dyed in his colors.
"I wonder if he truly, sincerely wants to become the organization's second-in-command."
"Pardon? What was that, Master?"
"If he is a spy for the knight order, it's a rather amusing thought."
Not direct elimination, but a bid for power. You couldn't casually plan something like that without confidence in yourself. The knight order must have trusted him that much as well.
But if he wasn't a knight order spy, then from the organization's perspective this man was talent they couldn't afford to lose. To swallow the entire kingdom, you needed someone who could captivate people like this. And he had the personal combat power to match—it didn't get better than that.
Dangerous if he was a spy. Irresistible if he wasn't. Caught between that strange duality, Lia let out a dry little laugh. Then she offered her most generous praise to the knight order for throwing her such a viciously difficult problem for the first time in a long while.
"...More cunning than I expected. Those knight order brats."
It must have been troubling—the possibility that the knight order, whom she had always dismissed as nothing more than a pack of brainless thugs, might have orchestrated a plan like this.
What she had no idea of, however, was that at that very same moment, the knights gathered in the royal palace were muttering the exact same words.
"Cunning as ever. The Black Lady..."
"Indeed."
"To act like this the moment she steps into the open..."
A heavy sigh settled over the blue round table. These were the highest-ranking knights, the ones most trusted by the king—and yet the atmosphere was far from good. Naturally so: the Black Lady's recent movements after her clash with the White Knight had been plunging them into deep distress.
"Public support for the Black Lady among Beimesher's citizens continues to climb by the day. Some merchants have even collaborated with the organization to hold festivals, and the children are apparently going around singing songs about them."
"Beimesher was always known as a city in their sphere of influence, was it not? Perhaps it's not something we need to worry about to that degree."
"Don't be foolish. Don't you understand that this is exactly how criminal organizations devour a nation? The higher the citizens' support for them climbs, the more trust in us erodes—and the kingdom will fracture."
"In the end, the people are drawn to the benefits right in front of them. Whether it's a criminal organization or not, the moment they start replacing the kingdom's roles one by one, they'll become a little country of their own."
"So that's how she intends to expand her influence. Clever thinking, Black Lady."
"No. I've heard that the one at the center of this is not the Black Lady."
At that, every knight at the table fell silent. The deeper they dug into the situation, the more inevitably the conversation came back to that man.
The Black Lady's closest aide, who had appeared out of nowhere one day and begun swallowing the city whole.
The unidentified monster who had blocked a strike from the White Knight.
"Claus."
"It's certainly an alias."
"Let's just call him 'that man.' The name is meaningless anyway."
"Until recently we didn't even know he existed."
"How long has the Black Lady been planning this..."
"Perhaps the one who devised the plan wasn't the Black Lady, but that man himself."
The other knights all voiced their agreement. The Black Lady was without question a cunning and dangerous assassin, but she was not the soft sort of person who could win the goodwill of ordinary citizens.
It had to be that man. He was the one who had given the fastest assassin in the land a second pair of wings.
"Have we identified him? Family, friends, anything?"
"That would be pointless. Even if records exist, they'd be fabricated."
"Shouldn't we take action now? If we leave that man alone any longer, things may spiral beyond our control."
"But if we dispatch an army, the citizens will grow restless. And for any large-scale movement, there's the matter of the northern mountains..."
"Then we'll have to resolve it with a small number of people."
The conclusion was clear enough, but the conversation could go no further. So—who would infiltrate the Black Lady's nest?
Obviously, there was only one candidate. Which is why one of the knights spoke up with difficulty.
"So... the White Knight's whereabouts are still unknown?"
"..."
At that question, the round table sank into silence once more. Since the day of that confrontation, even the kingdom itself had failed to properly track the White Knight's movements.
It was certainly troubling news—but the White Knight was the kingdom's greatest hero and its strongest knight. So they shook off their unease and pressed on with the discussion.
"If it's the White Knight, he surely has a plan. For all we know, he may already have entered Beimesher and be observing the enemy's movements."
"We'll have to believe that. Still, shouldn't we form an arrest team in the meantime? Unlike the Black Lady, that man is at least showing his face in public—if we're lucky, we might be able to grab him."
"But how would that even be possible..."
"Who knows. Perhaps they'll hand him over to us themselves."
At that unexpected remark, every gaze swung toward one place. The knight who had spoken wore a faintly meaningful expression as he continued.
"Even if he'd been hiding his identity until now, the fact that he has openly become the second-in-command is a recent development. There may well be discontent toward him within the organization."
"And his actions run completely counter to everything their kind has done until now."
"There will certainly be pushback, and someone who was shoved down to third place because of him. Sudden change always creates cracks inside, one way or another."
The knight's eyes glinted. He was known even at this round table for his exceptional insight, and he spoke with real conviction.
"For all we know, a scheme to eliminate that man may already be taking shape as we speak."