Pia Identification (4)
After finishing a meal with Airon and the Arakne royals, Gis received a report in his chamber.
"The angels have left the Delta?"
"Yes. Satiel ignored the obligation clause he promised Jaive and led his forces out."
"Hmm — that proud angel?"
To angels, a contract is far more binding than humans imagine.
"Yes. And…"
The aide hesitated.
"It looks like Shirone followed them. Also, seismic waves were detected at the Jaive border."
Gis pictured the situation.
"Looks like he found Ikael or something. Let it slide. If you start nitpicking, you won't have anyone willing to work with you."
"Other countries are going to talk about it, though."
"Then spin it as not something that happened at the Crusade. Push it that way. Don't be an idiot."
"Understood. And…"
The aide produced a newspaper.
A daily circulated across Jaive with considerable domestic influence.
"A follow-up piece came out. It seems information about last night's banquet leaked."
"What?"
Gis, newly dressed, paused with a button in his hand and snatched the paper.
Under the headline Exposing Corruption in the Crusade, the byline read Meikle.
"That bastard again."
"He's a brilliant graduate of the Royal School of Politics. He's written critical pieces about the royals for some time."
"This is going to be annoying. Arakne was that careless? This is why you don't play with trash."
"What should we do?"
"Try buying him off. If that fails, offer a bigger bribe. Didn't he say his son was sick?"
"Congenital heart defect. Hospitalized — they've been treating him for two years."
"How is he now?"
"I heard he's improving." Gis finished fastening the last button, froze, and turned his head.
"Hey, aide."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Do you have kids?"
The aide, bewildered by such an obvious question, answered dumbfoundedly.
"Yes. My eldest daughter is starting school soon. My second is four this year."
"Imagine if your child had that illness. How would you feel?"
"I'd feel awful. Like my heart was being ripped apart, I suppose."
Gis' eyes went cold. With all his strength he swung and slapped the aide across the face.
The aide crashed to the side, and Gis' boot drove into his abdomen.
"You know that and you handle things like this?"
"I'm sorry!"
"If a child is sick, doesn't a parent's heart tear? It does, right? Then what are you going to do?"
Gis' boot struck the crouched aide again and again.
"You'd put the pressure on the kid! Leave him half dead! Bribe the doctor, strangle someone — make the child's breathing rasp! Make him gasp for air!"
Gis grabbed the nameplate from the desk and struck the aide with it.
"Are you stuffed with shit in that head of yours? Is your brain not working? Go and overturn everything this instant!"
"Please forgive me!"
Even bleeding, the aide couldn't bring himself to say he would do it.
'How could a person do that?'
No matter how many corrupt deeds a politician committed, there were lines he wouldn't cross.
Gis set the nameplate down and drew a ragged breath.
'This idiot thinks a few slaps will settle it.'
"Get up."
"Y-yes!"
Despite his daze, the aide snapped to his feet and brushed dust from his clothes.
"You intend to do politics like this forever? Are you going to wipe my backside for life? Is that all a man is?"
"No."
"I donate to foundations. Do you know how many patients I've saved? Do you think your pathetic conscience contributes anything to society?" The aide bit his lip.
"The state looks after children for a reason. You're smart — why keep projecting your life onto someone else's child?"
Gis gripped the aide's shoulder.
"Or what — do you only learn reality when your own child suffers like that?"
The aide's eyes trembled.
"Ugh."
He collapsed and clung to Gis' leg, wailing.
"I'm sorry! I really can't—Your Highness! Please spare me!"
His hands shook with fear.
'This man is a monster.'
In a world where everyone climbed, what did it mean to be at the top?
Gis let the nameplate drop.
"You're really infuriating."
He wanted to beat the man to death, but usefulness outweighed feeling.
"Alright. Get up. You pathetic fool."
"I'm sorry. Thank you. I swear my loyalty. Thank you, Your Highness!"
Gis patted his back.
"I'm only saying it out loud. Seems like a misunderstanding. You don't literally have to get your hands bloody."
"Huh?"
The aide blinked, blood at his lips, and Gis felt his irritation rise.
"If you can't do it, have someone else do it. Thugs exist for a reason. Find a stupid bastard and grease his hands with coin. You know what I mean? You can do that, right?"
"Y-yes."
Gis nodded with his chin.
"Then what are you standing there for? If you understood, go handle it! Do I need to spoon-feed you?"
"No! I'll do it right away!" The aide bolted for the door and Gis changed into fresh clothes.
"All they care about is filling their bellies. You need the right hands to make things work. It's annoying."
As he tied his tie and faced the mirror, Havitz's reflection stood behind him.
"Isn't there anyone competent around? Other kingdoms are full of efficient people. Do I have to do everything?"
Havitz stretched, letting out a long yawn.
"Boring."
Wherever he went in the human world, reading minds had become nauseatingly dull.
"Still, I got a hint."
Gis couldn't sense Satan until Havitz opened the door and left.
"By the way…"
His expression turned serious.
'Who squealed? A trap? No — Arakne wouldn't be that reckless.'
He decided to curb his indulgences for a while.
"Damn it…"
Tormia district.
Lupist, having received word that Shirone had left the Delta, convened his leadership.
Albino and Pony were present as Lupist tossed the paper onto the table.
"Today's paper. Published in Jaive. They likely avoided the morning edition to slip past censors."
Plu opened it.
"I saw it before coming. It's still just suspicion, but Jaive is the host nation of the Crusade. That could hurt Gis' position."
"It won't be a major blow. With Gis' power and money, ruining someone's life is nothing."
Albino stroked his beard.
"It might still constrain his actions. He'll hold back from attending banquets. Who's the snitch?"
"Unknown so far. It's probably not a trap. Arakne's honey traps aren't that clumsy."
Plu asked, "Then why would they tip us off?"
"People are people. Something must've happened that night. Once someone's mind flips, humans do anything."
"So why call us?" Lupist asked.
"I want to use this. Personally, I think it's a hint."
"So politically bury it, then. More peaceful than assassination. But how?"
"Arakne's beauty trap failed overall. But Gis is a beast. He's furious about being barred from the banquet. Maybe we can exploit that."
Albino added, "You mean Tormia could run a beauty trap now?"
"Yes. Gis will be extremely cautious, but if someone can break through that caution — that's when it gets interesting."
Plu asked, "Who would that person be?"
Lupist and Albino fell silent, then she pointed at herself.
"Me?"
"If you don't want to, say so."
"No. It's a solid plan. But I've never trained for a honey trap. And I'm not exactly stunning."
"Don't underestimate yourself. You're more than capable. We chose you for your judgment and adaptability."
Albino said.
"Most importantly, it works because Gis is unstable right now. Safety-first. A rendezvous with the secretary-general of the Tormia Magic Association would be tempting bait, don't you think?"
"Would he hold back?"
"Testosterone is powerful. Beyond theory, history proves it. Of course it depends on how much trust you give Gis, but the odds are in our favor."
Plu hummed as she ran simulations. Albino turned to Lupist.
"So… now?"
"Yes. Shirone will oppose it. He may even break the alliance. But we still need Yahweh. This must be handled discreetly."
Lupist asked again, "Answer?"
Plu's gaze turned calm.
Havitz strolled through Jaive city.
"There's a lot of people."
Perhaps the pride of the Crusade-hosting nation; events were held daily.
'Finding her won't be hard.' Gis' daughter, addicted to luxury and gambling, stood out even in the crowd.
Inside the casino she shouted.
"Alright! Bet! Two hundred thousand gold!"
She clutched a drugged drink; even without divine frequency, it was obvious she wasn't in her right mind.
Havitz drew his sword.
"Gis' daughter."
If you force a man to order his child's death and then ruin that man's child in turn, how would he react?
'I'm curious what that sound would be.'
It wouldn't be madness, exactly, but it would make the dull Crusade into something entertaining.
'That's why a history search is needed.'
Simply killing or tormenting wouldn't capture the extreme sound he wanted.
No one noticed him approach the gambling table with his greatsword.
'Vanishing.'
If he drove his blade into Rebecca, the nations at the Crusade would point at Havitz.
"This isn't the Crusade, is it? This place."
Part of his amusement lay in repaying Gis' logic in kind.
"Good, good! Three hundred thousand this time! We're going all in!"
Havitz slipped up behind Rebecca, glanced aside, and raised his greatsword.
'Should I cut off an arm first?'
At that moment, something clicked in his memory. He turned with wide eyes.
A seven-year-old child stood there.
"Are you Gustav Havitz — the scourge of this age?"
Havitz, mouth agape, looked left and right, then at the child who pointed at him.
"You see me?"
"From now on, I'll kill you." He eavesdropped on the child's mind with divine frequency, but felt no murky killing intent.
Only one piece of information pulsed through.
"Wena… wizard?"
Only her name throbbed in his mind.
To be continued in the next volume.