Chapter 177: Dead Poets Society (1)
Every event has a cause and effect. The fact that the Church of Love found out I had kidnapped the priest and dispatched a Rescue Team meant that someone had leaked the information. They referred to themselves not as a Rescue Team, but as an ‘Investigation Team.’ The term Investigation Team meant they had a suspicion that the priest had been kidnapped but hadn't grasped the full situation. This meant the person who leaked the story of me kidnapping and torturing the priest wasn't an insider, but that it was a story passed by word of mouth among the villagers or delivered by some specific contact.
When asked how they knew, the members of the Investigation Team replied, ‘We only received a report; we don’t know the details,’ but I had a rough idea. The Investigation Team had arrived after I sent a letter inquiring about his well-being in the priest's name, so there must have been a problem with that letter. Today, Karin and I were in the dungeon, preparing to interrogate them. What we had to find out today was the ‘password’ written in the letter. The contents of the letter, supposedly written by the priest, had no apparent problems on the surface. But upon seeing that letter, these bastards had dispatched an Investigation Team.
It meant there was some kind of code system in the letter. If I didn't figure out this code system and solve the problem, even killing these bastards would become a thorny issue. If contact was lost, the Church of Love would naturally launch an investigation, and if their higher-ups found out that we had discovered their identities, things would get complicated. I spread a map of the Southern Region before them and spoke to the members and the priest.
“From now on, you are to head through the Peta Territory, pass through the Amur Territory, and head for the Eastern Plains Region. You said you have to write a status report every week, right? So, write letters as if you've passed each waypoint at one-week intervals. Like, ‘I am now in the Amur Territory. I am now in the Eastern Plains Region.’”
“Th-That…”
One of the subordinates showed a look of discomfort. It was because the intention to kill them after they finished writing the letters was all too obvious. I asked.
“What, you don't want to write? Want a taste of the straw cutter?”
Karin was caressing the blade of the straw cutter, her face full of anticipation. She was trying to maintain her dignity as befitting the Royal Knight Order, but the moment I mentioned using the straw cutter, her body trembled like a shaman in the throes of spirit possession and her breathing grew ragged.
“N-No, sir! I’ll write! I’ll write anything!”