------------------
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
------------------
Chapter 185: Ghost (8)
The first thing Oscar asked about was the power structure of the Black Fingers.
“It’s simple. Five rulers known as the Fingers are in charge.”
“What’s the official designation?”
“There isn’t one. Just First Finger to Fifth Finger. That’s all.”
“Explain more about them.”
At Oscar’s request, he gave a short snort of laughter.
“I don’t know.”
“What?”
“Looking at me like that won’t change anything. I really don’t know.”
A glance around revealed an eerily calm air.
But if this guy put his mind to it, he could easily conceal his emotions.
Oscar’s eyes narrowed.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Isn’t it weirder to assume I do know?”
Shrugging his shoulders, he continued.
“Except for the one we each serve, we don’t know anything about the other Fingers—who they are, where they are, or if we’ve even met them. Simply because there’s no need to know.”
“……”
It wasn’t that Oscar didn’t understand.
The Black Fingers were a faction allied with demons, disrupting the empire’s peace and order.
Just being discovered as a member was enough to warrant the death penalty under charges of rebellion.
“Fine. Then what’s the Black Fingers’ objective?”
“To establish a new order, as soon as possible.”
There was an odd excitement in Neil Brion’s voice as he spoke.
He almost resembled an overjoyed child recounting a dream they had the night before.
“The empire is doomed anyway. Right now, they’re just clinging to their own survival, denying reality. But their fall is already sealed.”
“Hmph.”
Oscar listened with arms crossed, silently.
“Humans can’t defeat the demons. Sooner or later, they’ll take over this land. In short, we should be aiming not for confrontation—but coexistence.”
“...Coexistence, huh.”
This time, Oscar let out a chuckle.
Knowing the true nature of the demons, that was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard.
“You really think that’s possible?”
“Of course. In fact, we already have a cooperative relationship with the demons. They’re not monsters. They’re intelligent beings capable of conversation and emotions.”
“Heh! Hahaha!”
Oscar couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore.
Wiping tears from his eyes, he replied.
“Capable of conversation? Feeling emotions? Them?”
“Yes. Have you ever even met a demon?”
“Well, not in this lifetime.”
Hearing that, Neil Brion responded seriously.
“Of course, I don’t expect you to believe it just from words. The empire has been spreading lies and propaganda. But the demons themselves promised to prioritize coexistence with humans.”
“Wow, they even made a promise.”
He couldn’t help but grin.
His lips curled despite himself.
He knew better than anyone just how meaningless promises could be.
“Alright. That’s enough about the Black Fingers’ objective. What else?”
“...Even members within the organization don’t know much about each other—except for special operatives like Dirje, who are sent on assassination missions.”
“You don’t even know how many members there are?”
“No.”
That was probably the truth.
It explained why the imperial court, despite years of tracking them, hadn’t been able to find their core.
That shadowy elusiveness did give the group an authentic, sinister air.
“So, you’re telling me you have nothing more to say about the Black Fingers?”
“Other than the one I serve, that’s all I know about them.”
Oscar had thought Neil Brion would be a valuable card, but he turned out to be surprisingly empty-handed.
Nodding to himself, Oscar pulled a small device from his coat.
It was a communicator gifted to him by Chief Walker last time.
‘Just need to input some mana… He said he already saved his ID number on it.’
Ah, there it was.
Pressing the saved number for Chief Walker, he heard the dial tone ring out.
Soon, a dry voice, even drier over the device, came through.
—Who is this?
“Ah, Chief Walker, right? This is Oscar.”
—Oscar? Ah, right.
His voice softened slightly, recalling he had given Oscar the communicator.
—What’s going on?
“I’ve captured someone named Neil Brion—a member of the Black Fingers. I’m planning to hand him over to the empire…”
The backlash was immediate.
Neil Brion jumped up, bloodshot eyes glaring as he shouted:
“You bastard! This wasn’t part of the deal! You tricked me!”
“...Tricked you? Me? When?”
Holding the communicator slightly away from his ear, Oscar tilted his head as if genuinely confused.
“This is what you asked for, isn’t it? You said you wanted a trial under imperial law.”
“That was before the torture…!”
“This is what a promise is.”
Facing Oscar’s cold gaze, Neil Brion involuntarily flinched.
“Something that can be kept—or changed—depending on the whims and convenience of the strong. That’s all a promise is.”
“You... you... you scum...!”
“Exactly.”
You can’t fight trash if you try to stay clean yourself.
That’s why Oscar didn’t mind becoming trash himself.
“So what if someone calls me scum.”
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to capture the core of the Black Fingers, who were colluding with demons.
Oscar had never intended to let it go.
Snap!
He snapped his fingers, and the air rippled as a dimensional portal opened wide.
“Get some rest in there. When you come out, it’ll be the imperial court you’ve been dying to see.”
“May you be cursed! You damned mages…!”
Neil Brion’s curse, uttered with venom, dissipated unfinished.
With the nuisance gone, Oscar brought the communicator back to his ear.
“Where were we again?”
And then, he thought again just how competent Chief Walker really was.
—Already on my way to Sirin.
* * *
Chief Walker arrived in just a few days.
And not alone—he brought the entire elite force of the Public Safety Bureau.
“...Are you heading off to war or something?”
Oscar’s dry joke was ignored as Walker scanned the surroundings.
“Where’s Neil Brion?”
“I’ve got him in custody.”
“In custody?”
When Oscar briefly explained about the subspace, Walker showed an uncharacteristic look of surprise.
“Amazing. I didn’t know something like that was possible.”
“Right? And that’s why…”
Oscar, walking slightly ahead, turned back after distancing himself from the Bureau’s elites.
------------------
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
------------------
“How much do you trust them?”
“……”
Chief Walker turned back as well, realizing the weight of that question.
Behind them were his loyal subordinates—ones who would follow his word like divine law.
“If their background isn’t spotless, they wouldn’t even get their paperwork past the Bureau.”
“I’m not talking about formalities.”
“They’ll follow my orders without question. But…”
They were still human—just like him.
And no human is ever truly 100%.
That was Walker’s long-held belief.
"That’ll do. That’s enough."
Oscar refrained from making Walker actually say that he didn’t trust his subordinates.
Grateful for the gesture, Walker gave Oscar a nod, and Oscar continued.
"As long as Neil Brion safely arrives at the Imperial Palace, we’ll definitely be able to track down who’s behind this, right?"
"It’s possible. The Imperial Palace has the Crown of Truth, after all."
The Crown of Truth.
An artifact that compels the wearer to speak only the truth.
It had limited uses, of course—but if it was to uncover the Black Finger's backers, it would be worth using without hesitation.
"Who else knows that the Security Bureau came to Sirin?"
"All of the higher-ups in the Imperial Palace would know. I’m guessing the reason you're asking so persistently is..."
"Yes. I believe there’s a mole inside the palace."
And not just any mole—someone high up.
At Oscar’s words, Walker's gaze grew darker.
"There were a few suspicious things. Like how Neil Brion slipped away when we raided the NewTech HQ before."
"Exactly. That’s why I think this is our best chance to find out the truth."
"Got a plan?"
"Rather than moving all together..."
Their conversation went on for quite a while.
And when the sun finally set and night fell, Chief Walker quietly left Sirin.
* * *
Walker usually traveled with 31 members of the Security Bureau in eight vehicles.
Vroooom!
But today was different.
Eight vehicles were all headed toward the Imperial Palace—each taking a different route.
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
Next to Walker, sitting in the back seat of one of the cars, was a man bound tightly in restraints—practically treated like luggage.
His entire body was tied up, and his head was covered with a cloth so he couldn’t even see.
Aside from the driver, there were only three people in the vehicle—including Walker and the prisoner.
"……"
Walker sat with his arms folded, eyes closed, holding his sword against his chest.
In the heavy silence, the only thing that filled the space inside the car was his commanding presence.
This is our best chance to find out the truth.
Oscar's words echoed repeatedly in his mind.
‘A traitor on the inside.’
If such a person really existed—within the Security Bureau or among the upper echelons of the Imperial Palace—it would be a massive scandal.
But it was something that had to be confirmed, sooner or later.
‘Let’s hope nothing happens…’
He wished for an uneventful trip until they reached the palace.
Walker prayed again and again.
But exactly 6 hours and 13 minutes after leaving Sirin—
"……"
He slowly opened his eyes.
He had sensed the surge of magic closing in from all directions.
"Chief! A-Ahead...!"
With a scream from Doran—the youngest member of the Security Bureau—and a screech of brakes, Screeeech!
The vehicle skidded roughly to a halt on the unpaved road.
Walker looked ahead at the twelve masked assailants surrounding the car and spoke.
"Doran."
"Y-Yes sir!"
"From now on, your mission is to protect this man."
He nodded toward the bound prisoner beside him and slowly unfolded his arms.
"Even if it costs you your life, do not let this man die."
"……Understood!"
With Doran’s resounding reply—Click!
Walker opened the car door and stepped out.
The crisp, chilly dawn air filled his lungs.
And with it came a heavy, sticky sensation of bloodlust from every direction.
Nine level-6s, three level-5s, huh.
Not a bad formation.
If they were coming at him head-on, it would’ve taken some time.
But their goal is...
Clang!
His black sword flew from its sheath and struck down a dagger flying toward them.
The trajectory had ignored him completely—its target had been the prisoner in the back seat.
‘Silencing the witness.’
The dead can’t speak.
Two things were now clear.
First, the assassins wanted Neil Brion dead.
Second—
‘The information leaked.’
It had come from inside the Security Bureau—or the upper ranks of the Imperial Palace.
There was definitely a traitor somewhere.
‘This is going to be a long night.’
With his trademark annoyed expression, Walker clicked his tongue lightly.
And in the next instant, all twelve attackers rushed in at once.
------------------
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
------------------
