Chapter Thirty-Two
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Karsu turned slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.
His gaze betrayed no hesitation, no trace of that discomfort worn by those trying to escape. He stood there, steps away from the most vigilant man in the city, repeating his words calmly:
"I am a busy man. I don't have time to waste with you. If you want to continue, fine—I will draw my sword as well."
Fargas's feet paused for a moment. It was not hesitation—it was calculation. His blue eyes never left Karsu, but they were reading something other than body language. They were searching for the flaw, for the lie, for anything that did not align with the picture beginning to form in his mind.
"You are in no position to decide who has the right to question you. Otherwise, why did you stop?"
Karsu did not answer immediately. He let the question hang in the air, then said:
"True. I stopped because I wanted to know: who exactly are you? Not just a name—your position. What authorizes you to stop someone in their path and question them as if you were their master?"
Fargas raised an eyebrow. He had not expected the audacity—but he had not expected the candor either.
"Are you trying to evade? Or are you trying to find out who I am?"
He did not wait for an answer. He pulled a small badge from his pocket—not like the badges of ordinary guards. It was made of a strange metal, its color tending toward dark gray, and at its center was a finely engraved number: seven.
"I am one of the jurors of the Supreme Council. Responsible for internal security and investigations, and everything that threatens the city's stability from within. By this authority, I now declare you a suspect in a matter concerning public order. You have two choices: either answer my questions voluntarily, or I will consider you a fugitive from the law and deal with you as the law permits."
Karsu smiled. A faint smile, one that did not reach his eyes.
Number seven. Responsible for internal security and investigations. So, this is the man who manages the files of spies and terrorism within the city.
"Oh... I did not know you were an enforcer of the law."
He paused for a moment, as if thinking, then said:
"Very well. What is your question?"
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Fargas's voice came sharp and quick:
"What were you doing inside the forest?"
Karsu pretended to recall for a moment.
"I was gathering some herbs."
"What kind of herbs?" Fargas did not give him a moment to breathe.
"Herbs and plants used in certain antidotes. They aim to boost immunity, strengthen the body, improve mood, reduce the side effects of chronic illnesses, lower long-term medical costs, and increase the efficiency of nutrient absorption..."
Karsu listed calmly, as if reading from an open book. He went on so long that Fargas raised his hand to cut him off:
"Fine, fine! I understand."
"There are other reasons if you would like—"
"Why did you enter the forest at such a late hour?" Fargas interrupted sharply.
Karsu answered with perfect naturalness:
"Because this is the ideal time to pick certain flowers where they grow. The sun is down, there are no people at this hour. I can work quickly and comfortably."
Rehearsed answers... but consistent. Fargas thought.
"I have one more question. We sent reconnaissance teams into the forest. How did they not notice you—or how did you not notice them?"
Karsu smiled. This time, the smile reached his eyes for a brief moment.
A trick question.
"As for the reconnaissance teams... I am a third-level Qaz Lord. If I wish not to be seen, no one will see me."
"That does not explain why you wished not to be seen."
"Perhaps they did not explore the area where I was. I headed toward the northwest. They most likely went in another direction."
Karsu knew that Fargas knew they had not gone toward the northwest. He knew this misdirection would be counted against him. But he wanted it to be counted. Because it would make him seem like a man capable of error, not a machine of precise answers.
Fargas did not comment on this point. Instead, he shifted his angle:
"Yes, that is possible."
He paused. Then pressed:
"Did you see anyone else in the forest with you?"
A dangerous question. If he said "no," it would be an obvious lie. Fargas himself had been in the forest moments ago. And if he said "yes"... he would have to answer questions he did not want to answer.
Karsu smiled.
"Yes. I did see some people."
Fargas's eyes gleamed.
"Who? And when?"
Karsu tilted his head slightly to the right. His gaze became less sharp, but it did not lose its edge.
"Master Fargas... do you not think that giving you important information—about what I saw—deserves something in return?"
Fargas paused for a moment.
"Hah? Who do you think you are addressing?"
"It is a matter of fact. I am a Qaz Lord, after all. Nothing is given without a price. And if you insist..."
Karsu's voice grew sharper with each word, until it reached an aggressive edge:
"You can take the information by force. What do you think?"
Fargas stared at him. He felt the blood rise to his face, but he did not lose control. Instead, he laughed. A short laugh, not without a hint of hidden admiration.
"Haha... I think you misunderstand something. I do not ask. I command."
He pulled a pouch from his pocket and tossed it to Karsu.
"Still, I would not want people to say that I abuse my authority. Take this. Let it be a lesson that cooperation can sometimes be profitable."
Karsu caught the pouch. He opened it slowly, his eyes scanning the contents. Gold coins. Many of them. More than any ordinary adventurer would earn in a year—more than their best year.
He closed the pouch. Then he returned it to Fargas calmly.
"I think you are either poor or a swindler."
Fargas's expression shifted for a moment.
"What?"
"Are you trying to buy important information from a third-level Qaz Lord with money?"
Karsu tossed the pouch back to Fargas, who caught it mid-air.
"It seems you did not understand my meaning."
Fargas stood for a moment, the pouch in his hand. He had been sure he understood Karsu's earlier signal. Had he been wrong? Or was Karsu merely stalling?
Then he saw Karsu's smile. That cold smile that appeared on his face when he had gotten what he wanted.
"Fifty energy stones."
Fargas was silent. He said nothing. He merely relaxed his shoulders and returned the pouch to his pocket.
He said neither yes nor no. He just stood there, looking at Karsu with eyes that were no longer merely analyzing. They were planning.
"Hah... haha."
Fargas laughed lightly.
"Do you think there is a madman walking around carrying that many stones? I will give you what I have on me, but you will answer all my questions. No excuses about being busy."
Fargas reached into his pocket and tossed Karsu a heavy pouch of stones.
"I think there are over fifty stones there. Lucky you—I don't usually carry this many..."
Karsu caught the heavy pouch, paying no heed to Fargas's seething presence before him. With complete composure, he untied the pouch, settled comfortably on a broken tree trunk, and emptied the contents into his palm. The energy stones gleamed faintly in the first light of dawn, and Karsu began... to count them.
He held each stone, brought it close to his eyes, turned it this way and that, then slowly placed it in the pouch, muttering: "One... two... three..."
"Are you listening to me?!" Fargas roared, the sound of his ever-moving feet like the buzz of angry bees. "I asked you: who did you see?"
Karsu raised his gaze with excruciating slowness, holding the fourth stone between his thumb and forefinger.
"Hmm? Yes... I saw a corpse." Then he returned his focus to the pouch. "Five... six..."
"A corpse? Whose corpse?" Fargas's voice tightened, the veins in his neck standing out.
Karsu stopped counting for a moment and looked at the sky, as if recalling a distant memory. "I saw a dead hunter. He was lying in a pitiful state."
He picked up another stone, but this time tapped it with his fingernail to hear its ring.
"You know, Master Fargas? They say young people these days make mistakes in counting due to recklessness, but I wonder... do the elderly also develop dementia midway through counting? I wouldn't want to wrong you if the count is short."
Fargas nearly lost his composure. "Are you mocking me? Are you accusing me of theft? I am a juror of the Supreme Council!"
Karsu tilted his head with a faint smile that held no respect whatsoever.
"Oh, heavens forbid. I am merely being cautious. I have heard that counterfeiters and energy stone forgers are on the rise these days. Perhaps you fell victim to their fraud, and I wouldn't want my reputation as an information merchant to be tarnished by counterfeit stones."
He tossed the stone into the pouch with a metallic ring and continued in an icy voice: "Yes, I saw a dead hunter in the forest. Are we done? May I go now, or would you like me to explain the quality of the tenth stone, which looks a bit dull?"
Fargas clenched his fists until his knuckles went white, feeling the momentum of his speed dissolve before this wall of ice. It was no longer merely a matter of questions and answers; Karsu was stripping the investigator of his dignity, stone by stone.
Bitter frustration filled Fargas's throat. All that gold, all those rare stones, for information about a common hunter and a dead body? It was like buying a castle only to find it built of sand.
"Do you take me for a fool?" Fargas growled, the veins on his forehead nearly bursting with energy.
"I paid you a fortune to tell me you found a body? Who cares about some lowly hunter in the midst of this catastrophe? I asked you who killed him, and about the items taken from him. Answer me now, or I swear by my creator I will make those energy stones choke in your throat!"
Karsu tilted his head, appearing to enjoy the investigator's crumbling dignity. "Do not raise your voice; anger spoils the Qaz's quality. I did not see the killer, but I know exactly where the victim's belongings went."
Fargas leaned forward, his eyes blazing with anticipation. "Who? And in which direction?"
Karsu smiled a fox-like smile and raised his hand to point calmly at himself: "Me."
A heavy silence fell. Fargas could hear his own racing heartbeat. "You?"
"Yes, me," Karsu answered simply, as if discussing the weather.
"The forest was dark, and I had no torch, so I borrowed the hunter's lantern and knife. Isn't that a sufficient answer for what you paid?"
Fargas nearly fainted from sheer provocation. He had paid a fortune to hear a confession of theft from the very person he had hired! Before he could attack, Karsu continued, cutting him off:
"As for the one you are searching for... I saw a beast rated one-and-a-half skulls, tearing through the forest toward the explosion. My advice to you, as a fellow third-level Qaz Lord: let the forest burn. Confronting that bull is suicide wrapped in bravery."
"A bull?!" Fargas shouted. "I am asking about a human! A fighter! Does your definition of 'human' now include horned creatures?"
"Oh, my apologies," Karsu replied lazily. "I thought you cared about anything that moves. As for humans... I saw no one but you."
Here, the last thread of Fargas's patience snapped. He gripped the hilt of his sword and said in a tone that brooked no argument:
"Enough games. You will come with me to the investigation center. Now."
Karsu half-closed his eyes, his tone growing sharper: "By what authority? I am a third-level Qaz Lord, and my stopping here with you is a courtesy. Being dragged to centers would harm my reputation, and my lost time has a price... let us say, fifty gold coins as compensation?"
"Do you have any sense?!" Fargas burst out laughing in disbelief. "I am commanding you by the authority of the Supreme Council, and you demand financial compensation?"
"I will come with you, not out of fear, but because I am a man who respects order... always," Karsu said with icy composure.
"But... I wonder what people will say when they learn that the famous investigator abuses his authority to detain a third-level Qaz Lord! What of those weaker than him? Will they also be suppressed and tortured, I wonder? In any case, as I said, I will come, because I am a man who always follows the law... always."
Fargas let out a long sigh. "Ten only. No negotiation."
He produced ten gold coins and began tossing them one by one before Karsu, visibly short of breath, while Karsu watched each coin fall, as if counting the remaining seconds of Fargas's patience.
When the tenth coin fell, they set off together toward the city.
At that moment, Fargas had made his final decision: he would use the rare "Qaz of Truth," even if it cost him part of his life. It was no longer just about the case... it had become personal. He wanted to shatter the cold composure that veiled Karsu's face, whatever the price.
Even though the Qaz of Truth had very limited uses, used only in the rarest of matters.
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