"So, is the Director still the same?"
Logan asked with a much-loosened face. I answered haltingly, like a rookie.
"That's classified—"
"I'm your distant senior. These bastards send a rookie and don't even tell him my name? Even if I did quit. Tsk."
Clicking his tongue, Logan put a fresh cigar in his mouth.
From the general air of it, Logan seemed to have left the Security Bureau quite a while ago. Good news.
"By the way, how did you know?"
"How did I know, he says. Trailing the smell of operative blood like that, of course it's the Security Bureau."
The Empire's front is, so to speak, a slop bucket. Demons, black mages, heretics, zealots — all sorts mixed together. The Republic was one of them too, of course. Their smell seemed to have soaked into me.
"And catching an operative I couldn't even find, right off. Look, however much zeal you've got, swaggering around so openly already? Catching an operative the moment you arrive."
Logan pointed at me with his cigar and nagged. I deliberately stiffened my face.
"How do you not catch a Republic man when you see one?"
The corners of Logan's eyes crumpled hard.
It was a smile. A smile that looked fiercer than a scowl.
"Unlike the new lot these days, your head's screwed on right. Yes, well done. Republic men should be caught and crushed the moment you see them. Leave them be and they lay eggs."
Logan nodded, satisfied. I seemed to have scored fairly well.
"Have you heard about the 42nd Squad?"
"......What story do you mean?"
"These bastards didn't explain this either? Well, they couldn't have, or you'd never have passed the Chairman's questionnaire. That old crone is a real nuisance."
From Logan's grumbling, I could infer a little of the Security Bureau's circumstances.
'To slip past the Chairman's eyes, they give minimal information and send agents in undercover, it seems.'
The Chairman was an Archmage and a witch. And meticulous enough to hide a magic circle even in a Corps entrance exam. To slip past those eyes, they seemed to hand out only the bare minimum of information.
"You've at least heard about Rifts, though."
"Yes, I've got the rough information down."
"A Rift's a dangerous place. Even professors go missing in them. But here's the thing. A mere Corps squad went into a Rift, and only one went missing — the rest all came back."
"The 42nd Squad."
"Right, the 42nd Squad. The whole 42nd Squad got caught in a Rift, but only one went missing and the rest came back safe."
Logan raised one corner of his mouth. A sneer.
'Came back safe from a Rift?'
There are two ways out of a Rift.
The first is to catch the Aberration and close the Rift. In practice this was the only way. The Aberration is a Rift's center, its key, its door. Without catching it, you can't leave.
Still, very rarely, there was a way to leave a Rift without catching the Aberration.
'Making a deal with the Aberration.'
Make a deal with the Aberration, the Rift's principal, and you could leave without catching it. But this method's odds were so slim it was truly a one-in-a-million thing.
Yet I was certain it was the latter.
'It's the only thing that explains why villains are clustered in the 42nd Squad.'
It had been strange how villains were gathered in the 42nd Squad as if by arrangement — but if one of the members had made a deal with an Aberration in a Rift, it made sense.
"It's clearly the work of the Republic."
Logan's words cut my thoughts.
His eyes were red. Anyone could see they were a paranoiac's eyes.
A Rift is a kind of natural disaster. Generating one artificially was impossible. Not even the Republic could be involved in a Rift.
Still, I didn't bother saying so, and gave Logan the words he wanted to hear.
"Damned Republic bastards."
"Finally, someone I can talk to."
I could practically see Logan's regard for me rising.
"First, blend into the 42nd Squad. Republic men are suspicious sorts, so if you approach carelessly they only hide deeper."
"Yes, understood."
"Especially—"
Logan pointed at me with his thick index finger. His eyes glinted like a beast's.
"Keep an eye on Evelyn."
At Logan singling out Evelyn, I swallowed dryly in spite of myself. It must have read as a natural reaction, because Logan grinned.
"If you need support, smoke this. I'll arrive before the cigar's fully burned."
Logan rummaged in his coat and pulled something out. A cigar painted blue.
A cigar that summons a Sword Master for backup when smoked. I took it at once.
"Ah, there's something I'd like to ask."
"What is it?"
"When the 42nd Squad went into the Rift, was Milo there too?"
"He was, but they say he lost his memory to a Rift side effect. Don't know if it's true."
"It'll be true."
"How can you be sure?"
Milo doesn't have the intelligence to put on an act—.
I forced the words down and softened my answer.
"A hunch."
"Hunches matter. They're signals from the unconscious. Dig into Evelyn properly."
Logan rose from his seat. Then he saluted me.
"Crush the Republic."
"Crush the Republic."
When I returned the slogan, Logan smiled contentedly.
"I'll smooth over most things, so work hard."
The level of 'most things' Logan meant and what I considered 'most things' were probably very different, but I didn't bother to say so.
"Yes! I'll trust in you, senior."
A most dependable senior.
Once Logan was gone, a thoroughly tense Milo approached.
"Wh-what did he say? Were we found out? Motherf—."
Thinking Logan had come to me over the entrance-ceremony bomb, Milo fretted.
"No, we weren't found out."
"Phew, phewww. Goddammit. I can't live, I'm so on edge."
Milo wiped the sweat from his forehead, relieved.
"That's why you should've lived honestly."
"Why you son of a b—"
"B?"
"B-eleven? Twelve, thirteen, fourteen?"
Milo muttered, avoiding my eyes.
I returned to the Corps with Milo.
What greeted us was a thoroughly furious Hanswell.
"Milo, I'm quite sure I stressed it again and again. Absolutely no slacking. And you up and abandon your post entirely?"
Hanswell readjusted his glasses and rattled it off rapid-fire.
"No, I didn't slack—"
"Oh? Then what were you doing?"
"That's—"
Milo looked at me. When I shook my head, Milo clamped his mouth shut with a grim face.
Hanswell's eyes sharpened further.
"Do you know how much of a manpower gap your absence left? Failing to set an example for the rookie is one thing, but dragging the rookie off to slack with you?!"
"......I'm sorry."
"Always sorry, only in words. This won't do. Milo, an intensive one-on-one meeting."
Milo, dragged off like that, didn't return until late evening.
The returning Milo was as hollow-faced as if he'd been tortured in a prison. He even had a dry cough.
"I held out to the end. Didn't talk."
Milo said grimly.
"Well done."
"Heh heh. You can split my mouth open, but you can't make my mouth open."
Milo thumped his chest, swaggering.
Anyone watching would think he'd endured an enemy nation's brutal torture. When in reality he'd just gotten a lecture.
As I held back a snort at the sight, Milo abruptly asked in a low voice,
"So, what's your aim?"
A sharp, wary light I hadn't seen before rose in his eyes.
"Aim?"
"Your aim in deliberately joining the Corps with that skill."
Milo shifted his weight, ready to lunge at the first sign.
I lightly clenched a fist and answered.
"Classified."
"Classified again! This bullshit!"
Milo erupted in fury.
He got so worked up I thought he meant to go another round. But Milo didn't lunge.
"I'm letting it slide because you don't seem like a bad sort."
"Thanks."
"No, there you go being sarcastic again—"
I meant it. Getting rid of Milo seemed like it'd be quite a chore.
"So, what's next?"
Milo asked grimly. He seemed almost excited.
'Next, huh.'
The entrance ceremony was over now. In game terms, the intro was done.
A mere intro—. Absurd, but the real problem was elsewhere.
'A Rift opened, but there was no Erosion.'
A Rift is a passage that connects to an Outer God. When one opens it affects the continent, and that phenomenon was called Erosion. Yet this Rift had no Erosion. Proof that it wasn't a complete Rift. Even in Hard Mode, Erosion this early was impossible.
So why had an incomplete Rift opened—
'It opened because of Evangeline.'
An incomplete Rift needs a medium. This time it was the 'Central Library' and 'Evangeline.' Of those, Evangeline was the key. Because Evangeline is the protagonist.
I'd attached Andy to her, but it felt somewhat insufficient. Andy wasn't a surveillance specialist to begin with. I needed to attach a professional to Evangeline.
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
A sharp-featured handsome man, the 42nd Squad's Rudric. To me, more familiar as the Spear Specter.
"A complaint came in. While escorting freshmen, did you refuse a student's request to board?"
Rudric asked in a flat voice.
'Raven.'
While escorting freshmen by carriage, I'd blocked Raven when he approached Evangeline. Raven seemed to have reported it.
"That nasty-looking bastard! Actually reporting it! Not even a real man—"
"Write a statement of apology, apologize to the student, and get his signature."
Rudric only delivered the message and vanished at once. A textbook case of 'keep it brief.'
'Good timing, as it happens.'
Raven is an assassin the Full Moon raised. A fellow who could later become the king of assassins, the Assassin King. The perfect fit for surveillance to attach to Evangeline.
To win Raven over, I'd need time to talk one-on-one. But Raven always had people around him. The only time Raven was alone was in his dorm room.
The problem was the dorm's security. As a place where students stay, the dorms had savage security. Plastered with high-grade magic tools, and a great number of guards. Even for me, sneaking in would be hard.
But right now I had no need to sneak in. I was the very guard in charge of that security.
"Milo, tomorrow's duty — let's make it men's dorm guard."
"Yes. No, but! I said this last time too — duty assignments aren't done that way."
"I see. Tomorrow's duty would be good as men's dorm guard."
"No, I'll really die at Hanswell's hands."
"You won't die."
"I really will!"
The intensive one-on-one meeting must have been lethal, because Milo's resistance was stubborn.
I needed to throw out a carrot.
"In exchange, I'll teach you aura."
"......Really?"
Milo's eyes began to sparkle like a boy's. I studied him.
'He's got the aura he got as a Rift reward.'
A Rift's reward isn't given only to the player. NPCs receive rewards too when they clear a Rift. A kind of party concept.
But NPCs, having no quest window, couldn't select their reward directly. The reward didn't disappear, though — it was auto-selected and accumulated inside them. As you train, it gets absorbed naturally.
Because of that, most NPCs don't even realize they've been rewarded, and just think something like 'I went to a Rift and my growth sped up.'
The trouble was that it took far too long. Loss occurred naturally, too.
There was a faster method with no loss.
'Forcibly absorbing it.'
A rather tedious job, but I had to keep Milo around going forward anyway. And I needed to calibrate before teaching the students.
"There's a dull, pedantic, slow method, and a fast, effective method."
"Obviously the fast, effective one—"
"Right? I think so too."
"Wait, why are you suddenly loosening up your fists? No, I said why are you loosening your fists!"
Sensing something off, Milo cried out urgently.
I didn't bother explaining in detail. That would be far too dull and pedantic. Instead I chose the clean, clear-cut method.
"Just take the hits."
Milo even threw both hands up, delighted.
TL Notes:
TL Note: Milo's "B—" gag is a pun in the original. He starts the curse "ship-saekki" (a vulgar insult), which begins with "ship" — the Korean word for "ten." Caught mid-curse, he covers by rattling off numbers built on it: "ship-il, ship-i, ship-sam, ship-sa" (eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen), pretending he was only counting.