Semi-Coercive Imperialist

......Oswin had been working with Adria.

They followed every lead they could find, from the print shop that had produced the flyers and the leaked list of names to countless other pieces of evidence. Sometimes they sent people to investigate. Other times, the two handled things themselves.

After days of inquiries, investigation, and stakeouts, they finally reached a single point.

An abandoned textile mill on the outskirts of Zestpol. While searching inside, they found a suspicious passageway.

"Knight Adria! This, this must be it."

Oswin lifted a square tile hidden beneath a pile of straw. Dust puffed up, revealing a staircase.

"......Let's go."

Oswin made a dignified gesture, clearly meaning for her to lead.

"Ahem."

Oswin coughed awkwardly under her gaze.

"......You're a knight, after all."

In any case, they slowly made their way down the stairs.

"......Wait."

Adria reached out to stop Oswin. Her hand clenched tightly around the hilt at her waist.

"There's someone here."

The two moved forward without making a sound.

At the bottom of the stairs stood a wooden door blocking the way.

The moment they cautiously opened it.

"......"

Adria's breathing faltered for a moment.

It was an obvious mistake for a knight. If an enemy blade had flown at her in that instant, she would have died.

And the man on the other side possessed more than enough skill to do it.

Adria called his name.

"......Julian."

Julian sat in a chair at the center of the room, reading a scroll in his hand. Corpses lay scattered all around him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Reading the evidence."

Julian answered shortly, his eyes still fixed on the scroll.

"......What about these bodies?"

They had been dead for quite some time. Even their rigor mortis had passed, leaving their bodies slack and twisted.

"Who knows."

Rustle. Julian turned another page.

"Maybe they were the Blue Rose Society."

Maybe they were.

Neither quite past tense nor a guess, the wording was strangely ambiguous.

"......Did Maximilian send you?"

When he did not answer, Adria lowered her sword by half a span and added,

"If you're thinking of tampering with or fabricating evidence."

Only then did Julian look up at Adria. Mana gathered around her blade, and the same glimmer appeared in his eyes.

A silent, taut standoff.

Gulp.

Oswin swallowed.

Thud.

Julian set the scroll back down.

Step, step.

He rose from the chair and left.

He neither damaged nor took anything, nor did he offer an explanation for his actions.

"......"

"......"

The two stood frozen for some time, baffled by the strange situation.

"Let's move."

"Y-yes, let's."

They began searching the room. Adria first picked up the scroll Julian had set down.

It was a written exchange, a record of conversations held in this underground room.

As she stared at it, a thought flashed through her mind.

"......The handwriting."

"Hm?"

"If this is the real headquarters of the Blue Rose Society, these written exchanges are their originals. We need to compare all the handwriting."

The list claimed dozens of people were involved.

But what if the writing on all these papers came from only three or four hands?

"The fact that so many people couldn't have come and gone through this cramped space will be evidence in itself."

"......You're right!"

Oswin clapped his hands, then quickly covered his nose with his sleeve as the stench of rotting corpses hit him.

"Then...... what about these bodies?"

"Most likely."

Adria's expression darkened.

"They came here to fabricate evidence."

The bodies had been dead for a long time. Julian had likely arrived before them.

"Julian...... stopped them."

A faint sorrow crossed Adria's face.

"So they couldn't damage or fabricate the evidence."

Julian had stopped them, then left all the evidence untouched despite knowing everything.

Instead of seizing it in the Sentinel Knights' name, he had ensured it would be discovered by someone unaffiliated.

That was his way. Proving his beliefs through actions rather than words.

"Let's secure this evidence first. The bodies will make excellent evidence as well."

"Where? Is there anyone we can trust in a situation like this?"

Adria looked down at the corpses as she answered Oswin.

"......Counselor. I'm still a knight."

A private knight's office was practically a small institution of its own. It had more than enough room to store this much evidence.

* * *

Because of that, Oswin Mason volunteered to serve as Joshua's defense counsel before the Sentinel Knights.

Every knight looked at him like he was insane, but Oswin brimmed with confidence. Maximilian even approved his appointment.

"Joshua!"

"......Mr. Oswin?"

Inside the interrogation room, Oswin rushed over to inspect Joshua's condition. His face was utterly haggard, though thankfully, he bore no physical injuries.

"Please, sit."

Maximilian invited him to the seat opposite. Oswin was not intimidated. Before he had even sat down, he spoke.

"Before that, there's something I want to ask Joshua."

"......Me?"

Oswin hesitated for a moment.

The instant he asked this, Joshua might never walk out alive. His guilt would become certain.

Joshua nodded as if he was fine with it, and Oswin looked directly into his eyes.

"The textile mill belonging to House Reclover at the western edge of Zestpol. Was the basement there your hideout?"

"......"

Joshua looked at Oswin for a moment, then answered with a faint smile.

"Yes. It was."

"Haaah......"

Oswin drew a deep breath and turned to Maximilian.

"I found evidence there."

Written exchanges between Joshua and the Blue Rose Society. Yet all those papers contained only three distinct handwritings.

A list of dozens of people, and the writing of three.

Knight Adria had obtained that evidence under the authority of a knight.

"If there is a trial, Knight Adria will join the defense team and present the evidence."

He was demanding a trial.

Maximilian suddenly asked,

"Then where did that list come from?"

"......"

Was he still going to deny it?

Oswin kept his expression calm as he answered.

"Someone's doing, I suppose. Someone who wants Zestpol to fall apart."

"Who might that someone be?"

Maximilian smiled. The twisted expression made Oswin clench his teeth. He tried to hold back, but eventually spoke.

"You."

Silence.

Joshua and Oswin watched Maximilian's mouth. It felt as though he might say something like, "Correct," or, "And?"

"No. It wasn't me."

Instead, his answer was an almost deflatingly calm denial.

He showed no anger toward Oswin for suspecting him, nor any unease at the deduction. He was as still as windless air.

"......Ha."

Oswin went cold instead.

"Maximilian. You planned to send people there and plant fabricated evidence."

"No. It was the opposite."

"What?"

"Knight Julian was probably there."

Oswin's shoulders jerked. His reaction was the answer.

Maximilian continued quietly.

"I personally respect him. And the reason he was in that basement was probably..."

Maximilian's gaze slowly drifted to Joshua.

"Joshua."

His eyes slanted slightly, carrying a look that somehow seemed pitying.

"To protect you from betrayal."

"......?"

Joshua's expression froze.

"......What did you say?"

Oswin asked blankly as well.

Maximilian took a moment to straighten his clothes.

"Ideology is a dangerous thing. There are people who abandon its meaning and only pick up the shell."

He pulled a document from his inner pocket and placed it on the table. It was the most decisive piece of evidence that had led to Joshua's arrest, a witness statement.

"They have no interest in meaning to begin with. All they desire is the crack an ideology can create. For that alone, they do their best."

His finger pointed to a name on the statement.

"Do you remember, Joshua? The cleaner who claimed to have seen you at dawn."

Joshua's eyes shook.

"I tracked down this cleaner first."

Tap. Tap.

His fingertip lightly tapped the name.

"Their family register had been forged."

A forged family register.

"It means they aren't Aran."

At that moment, the weight of the witness statement completely reversed.

"You testified that you didn't make or distribute these drawings."

Maximilian then picked up several engravings.

Crude drawings mocking himself. He only smiled as he looked at them. There was not the slightest sign that he felt insulted or was suppressing anger.

As if being belittled did not bother him at all.

"Joshua, I believe you."

Joshua's eyes widened. The engravings Maximilian had spread out fell onto the table.

"Because you're Aran."

Several sheets slid across the table to Joshua.

"The cancer of the Empire is those who want to exploit this. Those who inflate something small, sow confusion within the Empire, and cut away the Empire's intellect."

His eyes moved between Oswin and Joshua.

"I came here to catch them."

"......"

Oswin's dry lips moved, but he could not form a sentence.

Joshua asked instead.

"......Did you believe me from the beginning?"

His voice trembled.

Maximilian seemed to consider it for a moment, then gently shook his head.

"I believed in the Joshua Julian believed in."

* * *

Pitter-patter.

On a rainy night, Georgen Lieutenant Gewin drove while whistling.

He had high hopes for this case. He could probably make inspector in no time. And the bonus would be huge.

Heh heh heh.

Lost in those thoughts as he drove, he turned into an alley.

"What?!"

Screeeech!

He slammed on the brakes.

"Fuck...... What's this?!"

A truck was blocking the narrow road ahead.

He tried to back up, but a car had already pulled in behind him.

"Ah, fuck."

Gewin rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and shouted.

"Hey! You in the back! Move your car!"

No response.

"Didn't you hear me? Move your car!"

Rain tapped against the bridge of his nose.

"Fuck, seriously. Hey! Do you know who I am?!"

Still silence, with not even the sound of engines ahead or behind him.

"What the hell is that bastard..."

Gewin finally got out of the car.

The moment he strode toward the car behind him.

Rumble!

Assailants poured out from the darkness on both sides of the alley. Six...... eight? Ten?

"What the fuck, urk!"

A fist flew at Gewin as he stepped back.

Smack!

The blow hit his temple squarely, making him stagger. Arms reached out from every side and grabbed him.

"You sons of bitches!"

I'm an investigator with a military background. I'm used to fighting!

"Come on, fuckers!"

He drove his elbow into one assailant's chin, then kicked another in the shin.

Smack! Another punch slammed into his face.

"Aagh! I surrender!"

Smack! Smack! Crunch!

"I surrender!"

He hurriedly dropped to his knees. He thought they might let him off now, but someone's instep slammed into his side instead. A fist crushed the back of his head.

How many dozens of times did they hit him, like a dog?

"Stop."

Whoooosh!

A familiar voice mingled with the sound of rain.

Splash. Splash.

Someone walked through the puddles toward them.

"You should at least see who's sending you off."

"Haa. Haa......"

Gewin looked up through a black-and-blue swollen eye.

A man obscured by the downpour, Inspector Fried.

"......Ha."

A hollow laugh spread over Gewin's bloodied lips.

"Inspector. What is this?"

"Tch. That's why you should've known when to quit."

Fried slowly crouched in front of Gewin.

Through twisted teeth, he spoke in a calm voice, as if reading from an interrogation record.

"Why did you do it, Detective Gavin?"

"I told you, I'm a lieutenant."

"Why did you take bribes from the print shop, and why did you steal and sell the evidence you seized?"

"......What?"

Fried grabbed Gewin's hair and yanked his face up to eye level. One of the assailants beside him pulled out a dagger.

"That's what the report will say. Corrupt Sergeant Gewin, blinded by his desire for promotion, who falsified his record and died in a fight with back-alley thugs."

Gewin looked back at him through his bloodied face.

Every word Fried muttered like that was evidence.

"Cough...... Funny."

A grin spread across his face.

"It all happened just like that knight said."

His low voice bubbled with blood.

Fried's brow furrowed.

"......Knight?"

Swoosh!

Sword light flashed through the alley.

One assailant's heart was pierced. The blade slid free, spraying blood like rainwater. People rushed in one after another. Among them, the softest shadow slammed Fried to the ground.

"Urk!"

Gewin watched as Julian cuffed Fried's wrists, then muttered in dissatisfaction.

"......You're late. It hurts like hell."

Knight Julian.

He pressed firmly against the back of Fried's neck. Fried's face went pale, and he passed out.

Aagh! Argh! Urk!

They showed no mercy to the other assailants. They were all caught in the act, so the agents darted through the rain and shot them dead.

"Whew."

Gewin staggered to his feet.

"So Inspector Fried was the mole. I had a feeling. I knew it from the moment he beat Nico."

Joint operation.

Julian had suspected a mole inside Georgen from the beginning. The list had leaked from there.

So Julian had given Gewin one instruction.

When taking in one of the professors on the list, arrest not only the professor, but their assistants and servants too. In other words, arrest people who were not on the list as well.

The scriptwriter hated variables beyond their control.

They would definitely act in person.

"......High five?"

Gewin raised his hand. Julian only stared at him in silence.

Ahem. Feeling awkward, Gewin quietly lowered his hand. He picked up an umbrella and held it over Julian instead.

"Your hair's getting wet, sir."

He chattered away with a grin missing two front teeth.

* * *

Hanna Usar had tracked down and arrested two of Joshua's comrades.

"......"

Joshua watched them inside the interrogation room from a distance.

Special magic glass.

Those inside could not see outside, while those outside could see in perfectly.

He stood on the other side of the glass where he himself had been held not long ago. This time, Joshua was the one looking in.

They were Izenheim.

Joshua had known they were Izenheim. No, because he knew, he had considered them comrades all the more.

And in the end, he had been betrayed like this.

The place where ideals had stabbed him in the back. Joshua stared through the glass.

"Joshua Vanhetten. Follow me."

An unfamiliar knight took hold of him. It was neither Maximilian nor Julian.

"Yes."

Though he was the ringleader of the Blue Rose Society, he had been promised fifteen years in prison. The stated reason was that he had helped solve a larger case.

Apparently, there was even room for a reduced sentence.

"Get in."

Was the knight's name Simon? Joshua got into the car with the knight, who was even younger than him.

Rattle. Rattle.

After driving for some time.

"Get out."

Joshua got out at the knight's command.

He looked around. There was nothing but tall concrete walls separating the inside from the outside.

"You're here."

Maximilian appeared from somewhere. The knight who had brought Joshua hurriedly saluted him. Heavy security stood all around them, but Maximilian himself looked as relaxed as though he had come out for a stroll.

"It's a special Camp. This is where you'll stay for ten years."

Maximilian nodded toward the wall.

Joshua suddenly asked,

"......Are the professors here too?"

"Yes."

"They'll be released soon, right? They were imprisoned because of me......"

Maximilian smiled faintly.

"You'll be able to see for yourself inside."

"......Yes."

Escorted by guards, Joshua entered and walked through a dark corridor in handcuffs.

Step. Step.

How long did he walk through that long darkness?

At last, the space opening up before him was...

He quickly raised a hand against the bright light pouring in.

"......?"

Joshua's eyes slowly widened.

It was that strange a sight.

"This is......"

A gravel path wound across neatly trimmed grass toward a small park built on a low hill.

Mansions with red roofs sat among the trees like a village. Through their open windows, he could see studies lined with bookshelves, fireplaces, and chessboards left midway through a game.

There were no iron bars anywhere. The walls were too far away to even enter his field of vision.

A dog ran across the grass with a ball in its mouth, while cats curled up lazily on every sunlit windowsill.

On a bench in front of one mansion, two professors shared a newspaper and debated as they read.

Rather than a prison, it looked like some quiet university town.

A place that somehow felt like he had been invited.

"Joshua."

Someone called to him.

It was Salzmann, his teacher, as though he had come out to greet him.

"Professor......?"

"I heard all about what happened to you, even in here."

Salzmann strode over and looked his student up and down. His eyes reddened for a moment as he took in Joshua's gaunt face.

"You must have suffered terribly."

Joshua stared at the outstretched hand for a long time.

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