Chapter 25 : Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Ian must have heard the news from somewhere. After seeing my business card, he contacted me and handed over the petition.
That petition had a considerable influence on the appeal trial.
After all, it contained the signatures of every resident of Sauhin Village.
I, too, provided some assistance to Mr. Draksan during the appeal.
‘I submitted a written opinion stating that assaulting Hardi at the drinking gathering and assaulting the investigator were crimes committed under Intermittent Explosive Disorder, effectively in a state of mental incapacitation.’
I even submitted diagnostic records and counseling logs, but that alone did not have much impact.
The court acknowledged that he had committed the acts after losing his reason. They understood the assault on Hardi, since even the victim desired leniency, but argued that assaulting an investigator was difficult to forgive.
Furthermore, it was argued that a person who could not restrain anger—especially one who lost reason and committed violence each time anger arose—should not be released into society.
‘That was when the investigators’ testimonies followed.’
At the time Chief Justin had been kidnapped.
Draksan could have killed Chief Justin, yet he did not.
Despite having more than sufficient emotional motive to do so.
Their testimony proved that Mr. Draksan was capable of restraining his anger.
It even demonstrated that he possessed greater self-control than ordinary individuals without Intermittent Explosive Disorder.
Even so, the complete suspension of his sentence remained questionable.
Many people actually doubted the ruling.
There had never before been a case where a severe fifteen-year sentence was reduced to the level of probation.
“That? I was the one who did it.”
After the trial ended, Chief Justin came to see me and said that.
“I involved myself in the trial. I abused my authority as Chief to some extent.”
His tone was calm, as though he had merely done what was natural.
“It did not seem right, as a human being, to cling to rigid principles against someone who saved my life. So I used a little influence.”
“So you are someone who considers human decency, Chief? I had no idea.”
“I have been meaning to ask—what exactly do you think of me?”
When I remained silent, Chief Justin continued with a darkened expression.
“I began to question whether the principles I believed in were truly correct.”
“So Mr. Draksan’s probation was largely thanks to you, Chief. And you have come to receive praise from me for that.”
“No, I did not come for praise—”
“You did very well. Anyone with a sense of decency should have done the same.”
When I even gave him a thumbs-up, Chief Justin sighed several times.
I could smell a faint trace of anger in his exhaled breath.
“I did not come to receive praise, you fool.”
“I know. I am joking. Then is it finally time for counseling?”
“No. I told you before, I do not need—anyway, not counseling. I came for another reason today.”
What Chief Justin took out was a medicinal herb.
It resembled ginseng or wild ginseng, yet somehow did not look quite like either.
Its shape was somewhat unreal, and it was far too large.
‘I have seen something like this before.’
I searched my memory.
“It is Longevity Grass.”
“It is also called Mandragora. That Dermento fellow we arrested last time had it on him.”
“Why are you giving this to me?”
“I never said I was giving it.”
I frowned.
“Then did you take it out merely to boast?”
“I am joking. Of course I brought it to give to you.”
He snickered, apparently pleased at getting a bit of revenge for my teasing.
“There is no real use for it at the Public Security Bureau. You would put it to better use. Is it Miss Erisa who prepares the medicine?”
“I develop the recipes. Erisa handles compounding.”
Erisa does possess knowledge of pharmaceuticals, but not to the level of developing entirely new drugs.
So I create the recipes, and Erisa prepares them.
‘What kind of medicine could come from Longevity Grass?’
Until now, I had only read about it like a legend in herbal encyclopedias. This was the first time I had seen it in person.
Though called an herb, I had never heard of it being turned into medicine.
There were only records of mages chewing it raw to amplify their magic.
‘It will require careful analysis.’
If properly analyzed, perhaps an extraordinary new drug could be developed.
Perhaps even a drug capable of treating illnesses difficult to cure with existing medicine—such as schizophrenia.
“Please convey my thanks to Miss Erisa. I heard the Public Security Bureau received considerable help from her this time.”
“Will you not thank me?”
“For what?”
“For helping.”
“I already did. I gave you Longevity Grass.”
“Sometimes a single word of gratitude is worth more than money or goods.”
“Is that so? Then I shall offer thanks. Return the Longevity Grass.”
When Chief Justin reached to take my Longevity Grass back, I quickly tucked it into my coat.
“Let us not behave childishly, Chief of the Public Security Bureau….”
“If you say that, is it acceptable for a counselor to provoke someone like this?”
“Ah, are you perhaps angry?”
“No, I am not angry, I simply—”
After a brief and meaningless exchange, Chief Justin rose from his seat.
“I have finished my business, so I shall leave. Ah, by the way—are you still unwilling to work at the Public Security Bureau? There is a position prepared for you.”
“You bring that up every time we meet. No. The counseling center is thriving.”
Chief Justin smirked.
“That is unfortunate. If it fails, I shall come again.”
“It will not fail.”
“One never knows. I did not expect to be kidnapped either.”
As he put on his coat, he muttered,
“…I did not expect you to come save me. Nor did I imagine Draksan would spare my life.”
“Oh? I did not quite hear that. Would you repeat it?”
“You heard me. I am leaving. I am busy.”
He began to leave the counseling center, then abruptly turned his head.
“By the way, about Draksan. Have you seen him?”
“Not yet.”
“How do you think he is doing?”
“I doubt he is well.”
I answered with concern.
“There are rumors that Hadler is to be granted parole. I cannot believe it. A serial killer, released in less than three years….”
“Hadler is the only mage capable of taming Magical Beasts. It appears he secured parole by promising to pass his techniques to the Kingdom and the Mage Tower.”
Mr. Draksan’s condition had improved significantly, in my view.
But upon hearing of Hadler’s parole, it would likely deteriorate at once.
‘…He might seek out Hadler after parole and attempt to kill him.’
If he committed murder while under suspended sentence, he would truly be imprisoned this time.
“Regarding that.”
Chief Justin stared out the window and said,
“There will soon be good news.”
“Good news?”
“It is not something to explain in words. You will find out soon. Farewell.”
And with that, he left.
***
Lumentea Class-One Criminal Detention Facility, as its name suggests, primarily held first-class criminals—violent offenders.
Those convicted of rape and murder, serial killings, or treason.
Dermento, who had led the barbarian rioters during what was now called the “Chief Justin Kidnapping Incident,” was imprisoned here.
“‘Beast Tamer’ Hadler is also here, I believe. Recently, the two prisoners have been fighting over factions?”
“Yes. Even the guards have difficulty controlling them.”
Chief Justin and Investigator Turner walked down the corridor of the detention facility, conversing. The warden followed behind them with an anxious expression.
“Dermento is an old man with a severed leg. How does he even wage faction battles?”
“They say he used strange sorcery to become the leader of the inmates.”
“Then install a mana-sealing device.”
“It is not magic. It is sorcery.”
The warden carefully interjected.
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes. Even if mana is sealed, it seems sorcery can still be used. Perhaps it is more of an innate ability.”
“Hm. There are such people, occasionally.”
Justin thought of Kain.
He too possessed the ability to grasp another’s mana flow and emotions through touch. That was closer to innate talent than magic.
It seemed Dermento had a similar gift.
“Investigator Turner, you worked alongside Doctor Kain before, did you not? What did you think?”
Justin asked casually.
“…He was incomprehensible. He seemed to be saying absurd things, yet later everything proved correct.”
“Doctor Kain does have a fortune-teller-like quality. There is a reason I keep trying to recruit him.”
“Why does someone like that run a counseling center?”
Turner asked, unable to understand.
“What is wrong with a counseling center? These days even nobles and members of the Kingdom’s leadership are showing interest in Doctor Kain.”
“I mean, had he pursued another profession, he might have had greater influence. If not a counseling center, perhaps a business venture.”
“I have thought the same. I do not know. There must be a reason he insists on it… In any case, it is fortunate.”
“Fortunate?”
“What if Doctor Kain had founded a criminal organization with his talents? He might have become a kingpin of the underworld. It is fortunate he did not.”
Justin stopped walking.
“We have arrived.”
He looked up. On the solitary confinement door was written: Hadler.
Clank. Creak.
When the door opened, a gaunt mage lifted his head.
“‘Beast Tamer’ Hadler. Come out.”
“Ah, is my parole hearing today? Heh.”
Hadler rose, eyes gleaming.
“How quickly time passes. I thought it was tomorrow… heh, heh.”
“Follow me.”
Justin began walking. Turner, the warden, and Hadler followed.
Hadler laughed strangely the entire time.
Justin frowned.
“To think a lunatic like you receives parole. This country must be mad.”
“Heh, heh. This country sides with mages. You would not understand—you are not a mage.”
Hadler spoke the truth.
The Kingdom favored mages above all.
It was unavoidable. Civilization advanced through mages. The Kingdom of Lumentea depended heavily on mages even for national defense.
“I am well aware. I am not a mage, but a magitech engineer. When not handling Bureau affairs, I meet mages at the Mage Tower to discuss magitech.”
“Oh? Heh, I did not know. So you are about a one-and-a-half-class citizen?”
“An amusing notion. First-class citizens are mages. Second-class are humans. Third-class are barbarian species. Fourth-class are other heteromorphs….”
It was a phrase often repeated by those fond of division and hierarchy.
“This will suffice.”
Justin stopped in the internal courtyard of the facility.
In the past, escape attempts through this yard had been frequent, so barbed wire and magitech motion sensors had been installed.
The barbed wire carried magical current. Occasionally, insects collided with it, producing a crackle and the smell of burning.
“Investigator Turner, what was your motto? I believe you mentioned it during your interview.”
“‘Righteously, without a single stain of shame.’”
“When I was a rookie investigator, my motto was similar. Something about justice.”
Justin smiled faintly.
“I cannot recall it exactly. Only justice remains. That damned justice.”
He placed his hands in his coat pockets.
“To execute justice equally is no simple task. The higher I rose—section chief, bureau chief—the harder it became. There are political considerations.”
Turner stepped back.
“When I stood before Draksan, I realized something.”
Justin recalled the moment Draksan approached him with the axe.
He had been afraid—not of death.
“I was becoming like my father, whom I despised.”
The only words he could offer Draksan were, “It could not be helped.”
The very phrase his father had repeated habitually. The phrase he had sworn never to utter.
“From some point on, I applied strict standards only to the weak. I demanded justice only of them.”
The same crime brought lighter sentences to mages. Heavier ones to barbarians and heteromorphs.
Justice was lenient to the strong and harsh to the weak.
“Indeed, that is the essence of justice. Justice is executed by the strong upon the weak. The weak cannot demand justice from the strong.”
“Heh, heh. True enough. But is the parole hearing held here?”
“Fundamentally, the weak cannot be just. My father and I were weak. The Bureau itself is weak. That is why we could not be just….”
Justin muttered without acknowledging Hadler.
Hadler scratched his eyebrow.
“Draksan—you mean that barbarian?”
“Yes. The one you know.”
Hadler grinned broadly.
“Ah, I remember. His wife was beautiful. A perfect meal for my Poppy—”
Justin withdrew his hand from his pocket.
Bang!
A sharp explosive sound.
Hadler’s eyes widened.
His body trembled violently before collapsing.
He clutched his abdomen. It was hot. Blood gushed from the wound.
“W-what…?”
“A dispenser.”
“Dispen…? Cough.”
He coughed up blood.
Justin aimed a small scythe-shaped metal device at him again.
“A magitech tool implanted with mana circuits. Fueled by mana stones, it fires simple spells.”
“S-save… me….”
“Developed independently by the Public Security Bureau. Once accustomed to handling a dispenser, even an ordinary person can easily kill a mage.”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Justin pulled the trigger repeatedly.
Half of Hadler’s head was blown away by a fire spell.
Justin looked down coldly at the mangled corpse.
“The Public Security Bureau will grow stronger with dispensers. No mage—no one—will obstruct our justice.”
Investigator Turner lifted the body and threw it against the electrified wire.
Crackle!
The corpse convulsed.
Officially, Hadler would be recorded as having attempted escape and died by electrocution.
“Bring Dermento as well.”
Justin returned the dispenser to his coat and looked up.
Dark storm clouds covered the sky.
Soon, rain began to fall.
***
‘The composition of Longevity Grass is simple. Its manimin content is extraordinarily high.’
I was in the compounding room, analyzing it.
‘Manimin amplifies and accelerates mana. Even chewing it raw would increase total mana and magical power.’
Without refinement, it was equivalent to a potent elixir.
An ordinary person would suffer stomach distress or even respiratory failure.
Only a powerful mage could digest it.
‘If refined to increase purity…?’
It was impossible to predict what drug might result.
Its composition resembled herbs used to create stimulants, perhaps producing something akin to “Call of Dawn.”
Knock knock.
A knock sounded.
I set down the herb and stepped outside.
“If you are here for counseling today—ah.”
I had intended to politely turn away a client, but my eyes widened.
“Mr. Draksan. You are out.”
“Yes.”
I stared in surprise.
‘I almost did not recognize him.’
His appearance and demeanor had changed greatly.
His long brown-tinged hair remained, but now neatly tied back.
He wore clean clothes—casual formal attire.
His muscles still strained the fabric, but compared to before, he seemed refined.
Where once the color of the Rock Hunter Tribe had been dominant, now—
‘Well blended.’
Still tribal, yet also ordinary.
“You look better.”
“Thanks to you.”
“How is your condition?”
“Good. Truly….”
His voice trembled.
“When I heard of Hadler’s parole, it felt as though the sky had fallen. But when I heard he died, I was overjoyed. Now I do not grow angry easily. I can endure it if I wish.”
The day Chief Justin mentioned good news—Hadler and Dermento died.
‘It was reported they died during faction fighting.’
Few believed it.
‘…Chief Justin must have acted.’
It was unsettling.
But for Draksan, it was fortunate.
I smiled.
“I am glad you are better. What brings you today?”
“To offer thanks… and to take Lena home.”
“Miss Lena Caligus?”
While he stood trial, Lena had stayed at our center, receiving inpatient treatment.
“I can no longer afford it for now. I cannot work as a hunter for a while due to the trial.”
Hunter licenses were suspended after trials.
“I have savings, but….”
If he had gone to prison, all his savings could have gone toward Lena’s treatment.
“As things stand, I must pay rent and living expenses. I cannot use everything for Lena.”
“Then how about treatment on credit?”
I did not suggest free treatment.
‘Free treatment is not recommended ethically.’
Without payment, counseling risks becoming charity.
He refused even credit.
“When I find work and earn income, I will return with my daughter.”
“Are you seeking employment?”
“I have looked into guard work, but….”
I understood.
Hunter work cared little about background.
Guard work, however, involved discrimination.
“Work here instead.”
“…What?”
“We need security. Conflicts between clients have increased.”
I had considered this before.
“We also plan to expand inpatient care. We need security there as well. The salary will be generous.”
“But my illness….”
“I am here. Erisa is here. Even if symptoms appear, it will be manageable.”
It might even be safer here.
“…When do I start?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Thank you. For this, and before—”
“You are not crying again, are you?”
“The Rock Hunter Tribe… does not cry.”
I refrained from asking about last time.
‘His anger has lessened, but tears have increased.’
In any case, we gained a new employee.
***
Depression and anxiety are closely linked to anger.
Which is to say—
“What are you looking at, you bastard!”
“Looking? Why would I look at a dwarf too short to notice?”
“You little—!”
The counseling center is fertile ground for fights.
But now, thanks to Draksan—
“Gentlemen. If you wish to continue, do it outside.”
Most disturbances end there.
If not—
“If you refuse.”
Thud.
He placed a hand on a client’s shoulder.
“I will remove you by force.”
Resistance ended quickly.
‘Hiring him was wise.’
I turned back to my client.
“So, how have you been lately?”
“The same. As always.”
I looked at Ms. Cassis.
Prophet of the Sun Church. Called Saintess by some.
“…I still cannot distinguish hallucinations from prophecy.”
She has effectively lost her prophetic ability.