The Special Affairs Department (1)
Peace had finally returned to the White Tower, and with it, quiet.
The White Anvil Tribe was absorbed in modifying the bikes on the 13th floor, and the long-running squabble between the delivery department and the potion department had finally died down.
For once, I have some free time...
Unfortunately, there was no room to laze about. He still had to draft the hiring standards and training curriculum for the upcoming 'People of the Wind' staff recruitment.
Hiring criteria should focus on criminal records and character, first of all. And the training curriculum can be based on the driver's license exam the imperial family established...
He was running his pen through the recruitment manual when—
Knock knock.
A sudden rapping echoed through the room.
Who is it, at this hour of the night?
Oscar, who had glanced toward the door out of habit, froze. Not a trace of presence could be felt from the corridor beyond.
Someone skilled enough to evade my mana detection?
As far as he knew, only a handful of people in this tower were capable of that. And even those few had no reason to go around deliberately suppressing their mana.
In other words, it's likely an outsider.
Wariness sharp in his eyes, Oscar asked carefully, "Who is it?"
"..."
No answer came. Just as the strange silence made his eyes narrow—
"I've come from the Imperial Palace."
The words swept past his ears, too weighty to ignore. At the same time, he remembered what the lord of Vince Territory had said before he left.
'The imperial court will likely send someone to see you separately before long, Lord Oscar.'
So what was meant to come has come.
Swallowing hard, Oscar opened the door slowly, braced against any ambush. In the corridor stood a fairly tall man in a formal suit, hands clasped behind his back. A smile spread across his face as he asked in a pleasant tone, "May I come in?"
"...Of course."
Once inside, the man swept a quick glance around the room—and then stopped short.
"Do you happen to share this room with someone else?"
"I live alone. Why do you ask?"
"Hmm. Given the nature of my work, the first thing I do upon entering a room is examine the furniture. From that much alone, you can get a fair read on the occupant's personality. And yet... I sense two distinct egos in this room."
"..."
Oscar flinched inwardly. He hadn't imagined there'd be someone who could deduce that much just from the state of a room.
"Sharp. If I may—what do you think the reason is?"
"Ordinarily, I'd assume the room's owner changed. But if that's not the case, it means the owner has undergone a sudden change of heart. For instance..."
The man's smiling eyes settled on him.
"Say, if he'd lost his memory. Something like that."
"...Wow, that gave me chills. Can you see the goosebumps on my arm?"
Oscar held out his forearm in genuine admiration. At that reaction, the man burst into a hearty laugh and scratched the back of his head.
"Oh my. I do this for a living, so praise like that is a bit embarrassing."
"I mean it sincerely. Ah—by the way, I'm Oscar Crucian, a Level 3 mage of the White Tower."
At that, the man produced a single card from inside his coat and held it out.
"Nebula Grime, of the Special Investigation Bureau under the Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs."
"Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs... Special Investigation Bureau..."
He had never heard of such a department. Which meant it hadn't existed in his previous life—it had been created sometime after.
"Forgive me, but I'm not well acquainted with the Empire's institutions. What exactly does your bureau do?"
"Hmm, well. We handle a bit of everything—no case is off-limits—but there's exactly one purpose behind our founding."
Nebula curved his lips into an easy smile.
"We search out the traces of demons hiding in this land, and we hunt them down."
"...There are demons inside the Empire itself?"
"Who's to say. Believing that not a single one has slipped into a land as vast as this Empire seems a touch optimistic, wouldn't you agree?"
"This conversation will take a while. Please, have a seat first. Would you like something to drink?"
"I'm quite all right. My time is tight, so let me get straight to business."
Seated on the sofa, Nebula asked, "Your Mana Deficiency Syndrome—how did you resolve it?"
He's coming out swinging, isn't he?
After a moment to collect his thoughts, Oscar spoke. "I can tell you. But first, I need one assurance."
"What assurance would that be?"
"That you are an ally. That you have the right to share in my secrets."
"Being affiliated with the palace isn't enough... ah."
Only then did Nebula grasp his meaning, and he nodded. "Of course. I've gotten ahead of myself. There's a standard procedure for this, after all."
He drew a single sheet of paper from his coat and signed it.
"A Parchment of Covenant, issued by the El Terra Order. Read the contents and then sign."
"Let me verify it first."
Oscar examined the parchment, then nodded. "It's genuine."
"You really do suspect everything, don't you? Ah—and for the record, that's not a criticism, it's a compliment. Sincerely."
He really did seem pleased, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"People these days hear someone's from the palace and trust them without a shred of doubt. It makes work easier, certainly, but it worries me too. What do they intend to do if the person claiming to be from the palace isn't?"
"It's true—people today are lax about security, personal information included."
"My point exactly."
The contents of the Parchment of Covenant were simple. One chilling clause: if any of the words he had spoken so far, or would speak from now on, contained a single lie, he would burn to death on the spot. Conversely, the risk on Oscar's side was minimal—the parchment only stipulated that it would turn crimson if he lied.
"Are you comfortable with such one-sided terms?"
"Certainly. This is merely a procedure to earn your trust, after all."
Having finished signing, Oscar spoke up. "If you're from the palace, am I to understand that you work solely for His Majesty the Emperor?"
"Hoh."
Nebula, accustomed to being the one testing others, had hardly expected to field such a question in reverse. He nodded. "That is correct. The Special Investigation Bureau answers directly to His Majesty the Emperor and obeys only his orders."
"Good."
Oscar had no knowledge of the power dynamics within the current imperial court, nor of who occupied which key posts. Amid all that uncertainty, there was exactly one person he could trust: the Emperor himself.
"Then will you answer my question now?"
"Ah, the Mana Deficiency Syndrome? That's simple. I was never a Mana Deficiency Syndrome patient in the first place."
"...I beg your pardon?"
Startled, Nebula glanced down at the Parchment of Covenant. But its color remained exactly as it had been.
"Precisely as I said. My physical circuits were deliberately bound—by someone."
"...Deliberately? Do you have any idea who the culprit might be?"
"I don't know that far."
"Hmm. You must have been through a difficult time."
Oscar didn't bother to reply, only offered a wry smile. The young Oscar had indeed endured a difficult time—but calling it his ordeal felt somehow disingenuous.
"I'll report this portion to the palace separately. We'll need to investigate whether this was the work of a mage or faction envious of your talent, Lord Oscar, or the work of a demon."
"If you'd do that, I'd be grateful."
"You know why I've come today, I trust?"
"Yes. Because of the incident in Vince Territory, isn't it?"
"Correct."
Nebula added an explanation.
"Would it surprise you to learn that this isn't the first time you've been entangled with demons, Lord Oscar?"
"No. I had no idea at all."
"The Cadena Flu that spread through Vince was also a case of demon involvement. But since they can't operate directly on the continent themselves, presumably they—"
"Borrowed the strength of the Black Finger."
"Exactly. And the Heaven-Piercing Silk Moth eggs planted at the Mana Power Plant were their doing as well. We're one hundred percent certain, because it matches the traces of a Black Finger member we'd already been tracking."
Oscar's eyes furrowed. The movements of that band of Black Finger fanatics had been more active than he'd anticipated.
"Why would those people—fellow humans—side with the demons?"
"According to our investigations, it's because they wish to become what they call the 'New Humanity.'"
"New humanity... the Black Finger members we dealt with in Vince said the same thing."
"Then this will go quickly. The New Humanity is, in the end, another word for the Majin—the demon-kin."
At that word, Oscar's eyes darkened. He knew all too well what it referred to.
Those who drank the blood of a high-ranking demon and abandoned their own humanity.
Becoming a Majin extended one's lifespan and brought a dramatic surge in power. But there was a dreadful price: they could no longer eat any food whatsoever, and could subsist only on blood and flesh.
Nebula continued. "You may not be aware, but in the war twenty years ago, a few individuals betrayed humanity and became Majin as well. Since they were required to drink the blood of a high-ranking demon, their numbers stayed small. However, over the past few years, the demons have been conducting all manner of experiments using monsters. We suspect their goal may be the mass production of Majin."
"..."
Those abominations could be mass-produced?
As the air in the room grew heavy, Nebula smoothed it over with a light laugh.
"Haha! Which is why we've developed quite a substantial interest in you, Lord Oscar."
"In me?"
"Yes. Your level may be low, but your contact rate with demons is abnormally high. Most recently, you even survived the Nightmare Baron's monstrous curse—indirectly, but still."
Well. I never intended it, but it's true that everything I touch ends up connected to those wretches.
"Because of that, His Majesty has ordered us to investigate the drug cartel, 'Happy End,' once again. He suspects it may not be a mere cartel."
"Haha, surely not."
Oscar laughed awkwardly. If that were true, it would mean most of the incidents he'd been tangled in so far had all involved demons.
"Well, even I think that's reaching too far. But you never know, do you? If even they turn out to be connected to the Black Finger... then perhaps you've been swept up in a great whirlpool of fate."
Having left those enigmatic words behind, Nebula checked his watch and rose from his seat.
"It's getting late. I should be going. And as a personal favor, allow me one piece of advice—accumulate as many achievements as you can."
"Achievements, you say?"
"Yes. The White Tower's achievements. If you don't rack up more of them, things may get a little dicey at the White Night Festival."
"..."
That was undoubtedly a warning made with the matter of expulsion from the Four Great Magic Towers in mind. Oscar's face stiffened, but he nodded. "I'll take your advice to heart. Thank you."
"Well, even if I hadn't said anything, you'd soon find yourself sitting in a position tailor-made for gathering achievements."
A position for accumulating achievements?
He wanted to ask more, but Nebula was already tearing up the Parchment of Covenant and giving a slight bow.
"Then I'll take my leave. I'll be watching over you from here on out."
"..."
Watching over me, is it.
What, exactly, lay behind that gaze—nothing but goodwill, surely?
It was past lunchtime the following day when Oscar received a summons from the Vice Tower Master.
His room, as always, was filled with the crisp scent of phytoncide.
"You're extraordinarily fond of pine needle tea, aren't you?"
"It smells wonderful, and it sharpens the mind as well—so I drink it often."
As he poured the tea with a gentle slurp, Vice Tower Master Hamel spoke. "How was it, meeting the person from the palace?"
"You already knew, then."
"Well, he was meeting with a mage of the White Tower, so word naturally reached us."
Oscar nodded. "Yes. We spoke, and he left without incident."
"I'm glad to hear it. Did he, perhaps, say anything about achievements?"
"How did you..."
"An official document came down from the palace. An order for each magic tower to establish a special department of its own."
A feeling stirred in him—an intuition of what that department would be expected to do.
"Would it be a department to keep the Black Finger in check?"
"Mm, that duty is included, but the department isn't solely for that purpose."
The Vice Tower Master continued with a faint smile. "Its official name is the Special Affairs Department—'Special Duties,' for short."
"Special Duties... what sort of work would it involve, mainly?"
"You'll handle the incidents and affairs of Shilin and the northern territories in general. Think back to the Mana Power Plant and you'll have the right idea."
In other words, a department for cleaning up every miscellaneous mess that comes along.
Then a question occurred to him, and Oscar asked, "And the fact that you're telling me all this—does that mean...?"
"That's right."
The Vice Tower Master nodded.
"The palace made a point of specifying. In the case of the White Tower, they've requested that you take charge of the department, Oscar."