Hearing Mr. Yuto's words, Furina blinked slightly, as if she didn't understand who the "they" he mentioned, who were about to suffer, referred to.
And when she followed Mr. Yuto's gaze to the people on the stage, a look of incomprehension immediately appeared in her beautiful, heterochromatic eyes.
"Eh? Why do you say they'll suffer?"
Furina tilted her head slightly and asked curiously.
"Do you remember the last time the small theater stage collapsed?"
"I remember. What about it?"
"Last time, they tried to target you this way, to disrupt my plan by having you injured."
Mr. Yuto's slender finger joints gently tapped the armrest of the chair, as if using this method to substitute the thinking process.
"But they didn't expect the troupe members to choose to rehearse at that time, so… the injured party changed from you to Miss Deelfi."
Hearing this, Furina blinked in confusion, still seeming to not quite understand.
"But didn't we not have any panic? And… Miss Deelfi even ran to many places with us the day after she was injured…"
"Isn't it self-defeating for them to do this again?"
"No, my dear Fufu, the concept is different."
Mr. Yuto gently shook his finger, then continued:
"Last time was a misunderstanding, and there were some elements of testing in it, but since Steambird Newspaper announced a few days ago that we would have a public performance tomorrow…"
"A trap I set for them has already appeared."
As he spoke, a rather mysterious smile appeared on Mr. Yuto's face, as if everything was under his control.
After a brief moment of thought, Furina said with a sudden realization:
"I think I somewhat understand what you mean…"
"You want to use this method to draw out the mastermind behind the scenes, and seize this opportunity to catch him, right?"
"Because we're having a public performance tomorrow, if something goes wrong with the troupe… our performance won't be able to proceed smoothly."
"Even if it can proceed, the performance effect will be greatly reduced, thereby causing us trouble and achieving their goal, right?"
Listening to Furina's analysis, Mr. Yuto smiled and nodded, then slowly stood up and clapped his hands at the people on stage who still wanted to continue the next rehearsal.
Clap, clap, clap—
As if already familiar with Mr. Yuto's way of speaking and doing things, the troupe members immediately stopped and all turned their gaze to Mr. Yuto.
Mr. Yuto also felt the eager yet slightly puzzled gazes, nodded with satisfaction, and then continued:
"Everyone, it's almost nine o'clock in the evening now. I think you should all return to the troupe's resting place and get some good rest to prepare for tomorrow's public performance."
"After all, this is a rehearsal; there are no audience members. Once the audience seats are all filled… the pressure you face will be of two magnitudes."
"Instead of letting yourselves endure the fatigue of not having rested well plus the pressure from the audience, why not choose to endure only one of them? Don't you agree?"
Hearing Mr. Yuto's words, the troupe members looked at each other, then nodded in unison and began to pack their belongings, preparing to go back and rest.
Seeing this, a smile appeared on Mr. Yuto's face. He then nodded to Claude, who was sitting in the back row, indicating that everything was now in his hands, before leaving the Opera House with Furina.
Since he was going to act… he had to fully embody the role he was playing.
"I've prepared a smoke bomb for you, Khaerts. I hope you can see through this smoke, and then…"
"Choose a place you feel comfortable in, and wait to be completely caught by the Marechaussee Phantom."
A chilling smile appeared on Mr. Yuto's lips, as if at this moment he was not the Assistant Administrator, but a deeply cunning schemer.
...
Fontaine at night was exceptionally quiet, with most people choosing to rest in their sleep, preparing for a new day.
But apart from the civil servants on duty in various institutions in Fontaine… there were some people who would not sleep at this time.
They were roughly divided into two categories: one was those who were ordered from above to keep an eye on certain individuals, and the other was those who couldn't sleep and wanted to cause trouble.
Clearly, Nelson belonged to the latter category, those who wanted to cause trouble.
Perhaps because of a guilty conscience, or perhaps because he knew that if his actions were discovered, he would be thrown into Meropide, he was exceptionally cautious tonight.
He first peeked out to see if there were any Melusine or Law Enforcement Office Fontaine guards patrolling the street in front of the apartment. After confirming there were none, he tiptoed out of his apartment building.
Just these two steps made him sweat profusely, and his clothes were soaked, as if he had just been pulled out of water.
He roughly wiped the sweat from his forehead, then continued to waddle his corpulent body towards the street where Hotel Debord was located.
"Good thing there are no guards, otherwise, with my current physical condition… I really couldn't outrun them."
He thought this while quickening his pace towards the troupe's resting room, seemingly wanting to end this nightmare that kept him from sleeping or eating well.
However…
Although there were indeed no Fontaine guards on the street, nor any Melusine patrolling back and forth, he himself didn't know that there were several pairs of eyes simultaneously watching him from the shadows.
As the most insignificant chess piece in the game set by Mr. Yuto, he could only be manipulated.
...
Perhaps due to panic, or some other reason, Nelson quickly circled to the back of the troupe's resting place.
He first used the dim streetlights to glance at the blueprint in his hand, and after repeatedly confirming that this was the spot Khaerts had marked for him, he gently nodded.
"This should be it…"
Nelson muttered while searching for a stained-glass window made of various colored glass, then practically pressed his greasy, large face against the glass to find the so-called "hole" mentioned in the plan.
Perhaps it was too dark, or perhaps he was too nervous at that moment, but it took him quite a while to find a tiny black hole on a piece of white stained glass.
The moment he saw the hole, a physiologically uncomfortable, greasy smile appeared on Nelson's face. He then quickly pulled out a specially made bottle from his Pregnant.
He looked at the black tube at the top of the bottle, then at the hole in front of him, and then carefully inserted the black tube into the hole, gently twisted the bottle, and squeezed it hard.
Hiss—
Accompanied by a faint sound like air breaking through a seal, the bottle visibly deflated, as if some gas had been injected into the troupe's resting room.
After doing all this, Nelson breathed a slight sigh of relief, a twisted and bizarre smile appearing on his face.
He squeezed the deflated bottle again, and after confirming that all the gas inside had been expended, the smile on his face became even more distorted.
"Heh heh heh… who told you to go against me? Who told you that your actions threatened more people's business of rehashing old content for profit?"
Nelson mumbled this softly while gently pulling the black tube out.
Pop—
With a muffled sound, a perfectly sized piece of white stained glass impossibly adhered perfectly to the hole.
Having completed all this, Nelson nodded in satisfaction, then intended to quickly leave this troublesome place and create an alibi for himself.
And just at that moment, a huge force came from behind his neck.
Thud—
"It's over."
This was Nelson's only thought when he felt the pain from the back of his neck.
Under the attack of this hand chop, Nelson's consciousness didn't give him any more time to be awake, and he quickly fainted.
Looking at the corpulent body lying on the ground, Wriothesley pursed his lips in disgust, then said to the red-clad Meropide guard beside him:
"Go bring Miss Sigewinne over. Tell her Mr. Yuto arranged for her to come here to save people."
"As for this fellow… you can drag him to the Marechaussee Phantom entrance. I'll explain the rest."
"Understood!"
Watching the red-clad guard and Nelson, who was being dragged like a dead dog, gradually disappear under the lights, Wriothesley shook his head helplessly, then headed to the Northland Bank not far away.
He had to ask if they had accomplished what Mr. Yuto had assigned them.
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