Chapter 118: The Meaning of Politics (4) ── October 31, 00:00
Adria's field office.
Vice Commander Anton's senior knights and their most trusted administrative staff were hunched over, buried in ledger analysis.
"We might need to hire professional accountants."
The flow of funds was simply too convoluted. The money had been split and shuffled through dozens of shell corporations, disguised as consulting fees, art consignment fees, and countless other seemingly legal transactions.
"There's no time for that. Goebel will be released soon."
"We're running out of time as well."
It was clearly bribery, but they couldn't pin the "body" of the operation—Goebel—to the crime. At this rate, they wouldn't even be able to leave a scratch on him, let alone send him to the gallows.
"..."
Adria crossed her arms, lost in thought.
Goebel was undoubtedly the Cartel's pipeline.
An old fox who manipulated the Imperial Guard to interface with the Cartel, siphoning dirty money to expand his influence within the palace.
'If I were the Cartel...'
She tried to swap perspectives.
She imagined herself as the head of the Cartel, negotiating with the powerful figures of the Empire.
'Rule number one: Never trust the Imperials.'
They might take the money and wipe their mouths clean, or worse, sell the Cartel out.
'Rule number two: A mere ledger like this isn't enough insurance.'
Goebel was a monster always ready to cut his tail and run. It meant he could betray and crush them the moment things went south.
If so, what would the Cartel do?
"...Jerome. Tiana."
Adria called the two over. She pointed to a specific 'lump' within the cash flow.
"A massive pile of wealth built from small, fragmented sums."
Art auctions.
Specifically, paintings. Goebel owned numerous masterpieces by great artists and boasted about them without hesitation. It was his characteristic vanity and desire for display.
"What if..."
Adria's gaze sharpened.
"The Cartel left something in these paintings..."
While they could manipulate the flow of funds or deny its existence, they couldn't erase a physical mark left on an object.
"What if they hid evidence to blackmail Goebel, or as a safeguard in case he betrayed them?"
Adria looked back at the two. Tiana and Jerome's eyes mirrored her own realization.
"We're moving out. Now."
For now, they had to do something. Even if it was a far-fetched hypothesis, they had to act.
To sit idly by would be to accept a slow, comfortable death.
*
── October 31, 03:00
Tick. Tock.
It was past three in the morning. Reutern II flicked the excess ink from his quill and set it down neatly.
The list was complete.
"Ah... I'm exhausted."
He stretched his arms wide and looked across from him. Reutern I—his father—sat there with a gratified expression.
"What are you staring at?"
"...Just a father looking at his son."
"That's a bit much."
His father shook his head, looking proud.
This list was, in fact, a lifeline.
A "Life List" of solicitations requested by Reutern II's and Reutern I's close friends.
"Things are going to get annoying for me now. I have to go outside the palace and deal with that Max guy again. Do you have any idea how terrifying that man is?"
Reutern II grumbled.
"I'll buy you whatever you like. Once this is settled, I'll even get you that villa you wanted."
"Really?"
"Of course."
To Reutern I, his only son looked adorable and commendable, but Reutern II maintained a mock-serious expression.
"Just so you know, it might not work. Maximilian is incredibly prickly."
"I know."
"I'll really try my best. I'm only doing this because you asked, Father."
"Thank you."
For the first time in a long while, Reutern II felt nervous. This was a request from his father and his close associates. He had to succeed, even if it meant coughing up the Bearer Bonds Maximilian had gifted him.
Was this peculiar feeling what people called a sense of duty?
"Go on then. I'm rooting for you."
"Yeah."
Reutern II stood up with a determined face.
Despite being completely innocent regarding the Cartel scandal, he was voluntarily heading to the Knights' headquarters...!
*
── October 31, 04:00
The darkness of dawn hung heavy.
Adria and her subordinate knights moved with stealth. Knights who had undergone rigorous concealment training at Empire Point were essentially no different from assassins.
Entering the Goebel estate with the silent footsteps characteristic of their order, they searched through the vast collection of artwork, avoiding the servants' eyes.
Ceramics, statues, landscapes, still lifes, and countless other pieces. They scanned the items—which practically reeked of dirty money—with mana detectors, checking for anything suspicious.
"...Sir Adria."
Tiana pointed to a frame hanging particularly elegantly. It was a portrait in the hallway, heavily guarded by a mana-based security device.
Crr-ack!
Adria thrust her sword and shattered the device. No alarm sounded. It was a unique property of her mana.
"Open it."
They dismantled the security housing and thoroughly scanned the canvas with the mana detector.
Whirrrr.
The needle on the detector fluctuated wildly.
On the surface, it was just a beautiful oil painting of a lady, but it meant there was foreign mana hidden within.
"I'm cutting it."
Adria didn't hesitate to draw her dagger and slice through the frame. A masterpiece worth millions of dollars was ripped open.
As she carefully examined the canvas, turning it back and forth...
"...Found it."
A phrase engraved in blue particles. Based on a logic similar to an 'Active Residual Trace,' it was invisible unless illuminated by the detector.
[From Pellier of Venikia—]
[To Goebel, Leader of the Imperial Guard]
A token of affection left personally by Pellier, the head of the Cartel—something Goebel likely never dreamed existed.
"Ha..."
Tiana spat out the words that were rising in Adria's chest.
"Got you, you son of a bitch."
*
── October 31, 05:00
I organized the list of names in my office. Dieter and his team of geniuses had meticulously categorized those involved in the Cartel Scandal, based on Pellier's ledgers.
Grade 1, Grade 2, Grade 3, Grade 4.
The grades were based on the severity of the crime and the bribe amount.
Grade 4, who would only receive standard criminal punishment or a mere warning, were those who had only picked up crumbs.
Grade 3 were the fools who didn't even realize Cartel money was circulating through the palace and simply accepted it as "blind money."
From Grade 2, the 'intent was clear.'
Grade 1 were those 'directly involved with the Cartel.'
...Zzzzz.
The sound of snoring drifted from somewhere. It was Chiron. He was asleep on the sofa.
On the surface, we were supposed to be in the middle of intense negotiations, and fortunately, my office was free of palace wiretaps.
Knock, knock—
A knock at the door. Chiron woke up with a start. I gestured toward the door, and Chiron cleared his throat.
"...Well then, I hope you make a prudent decision."
Chiron, wearing a mock-serious expression, stepped out, and the person who entered to take his place was...
Reutern II.
"...Max."
I tilted my head. Reutern II looked uncharacteristically nervous.
"Sir Maximilian."
He called my name and set a document down.
"...There are some things I want to say regarding these people."
It was a sheet of paper with a long list of names. My brows furrowed.
"Has Lord Reutern also come to ask for favors?"
"No, no. Not... exactly a favor. A request? A request for... consideration and leniency?"
"..."
I stared at him in silence.
Avoiding my gaze, Reutern scratched the back of his neck.
"J-just read it once."
I picked up the document with a blank expression. I cross-referenced the names on Reutern's list with Dieter's "hit list."
"Hmm."
Most of Reutern's people were Grade 3, with only two being Grade 2.
It was a level I could easily grant leniency for. To be honest, even issuing a summons for them was a waste of resources. The nobles were likely just scared out of their wits.
"...Sigh."
However, politics is never that simple.
Politics is ultimately about making a show of favors, so I let my brow furrow slightly. I had to make an easy task look difficult.
"They are on the next summons list."
It wasn't a lie. The two Grade 2s on Reutern's list were indeed worth summoning for investigation.
Reutern swallowed hard.
"...I figured as much."
"Yes. They could be referred to the Knight Court—"
"That's, that's why I came to see you!"
As if having made a grand resolution, Reutern pulled something from his coat. He slammed down the gift I had given him before—the Bearer Bond.
"It's my responsibility for not managing the people around me. So, I'll take the responsibility. Can't we make this work with this?"
I was dumbfounded.
Could a degenerate like Reutern actually grow? Or was this just another one of his many idiocies?
"..."
I picked up the bond. Reutern's eyes followed the paper as it moved. His face was a mask of agony, as if it killed him to let it go.
"Lord Reutern."
"Uh, yeah?"
Reutern II was a fool, but that was exactly why he was useful. His bloodline and connections were valid. If Reutern's standing in the palace rose because of this incident, it would be advantageous for me as well.
"I recall you being a great help to me during the last Imperial State Council."
I dropped a subtle hint.
Reutern's eyes sparkled.
"T-that's right! Do you have any idea how hard I worked, talking you up to everyone?!"
"Was it perhaps because of something like this?"
"Never! Absolutely not! How could you even think that! I didn't even know this was happening! I'm serious!"
Reutern was clean regarding the Cartel. Cartel money was exclusive; only those in the know shared it. Since Reutern had expensive tastes, he wouldn't have bothered with small change or "spoiled food."
"I'll be honest with you. Among the crimes of those on this list, there are parts that can be considered relatively minor."
"Really?! Then—"
"However, we cannot simply act as if nothing happened."
I hardened my expression again. Reutern stiffened as well. A vein popped on his forehead. If I refused him again, he would likely revert to the old, crazy Reutern and throw a fit.
This was the threshold.
"I will arrange it so they face simple criminal charges instead of being sent to the Knight Court."
At my words, exhaled like a sigh, Reutern's expression brightened instantly.
"...R-really?"
"Yes. And I won't take back this bond. I gave it to you as a personal gift, Lord Reutern."
Reutern's face lit up with joy.
"Thank you! Thank you so much, Max! I knew I could count on you!"
He stood up and started spinning around as if dancing. Reutern II truly lived in a world of flowers.
The man's head was a literal flower garden.
*
── October 31, 05:30
"Yes. Chiron just left Maximilian's office."
Members of the Imperial Guard hurried back and forth inside and outside the Knights' headquarters, reporting findings to an unknown destination.
"It's estimated they were together for about... five or six hours. Yes."
I could hear their chatter. My administrative officials were walking around, wearing wiretaps.
"Sir Chiron also looked very tired and haggard. I'm not sure if there was a physical altercation during the persuasion, but his hair and clothes were quite disheveled..."
He'd be tired since he'd been drinking. His hair would be messy since he'd just woken up.
The Imperial Guards were wildly misinterpreting our conversation based on Chiron's appearance.
"I can hear everything..."
I stepped out into the hallway.
Thud. Thud.
I walked down the long corridor and stood before Goebel's interrogation room.
── Thud!
I threw the door open.
The interrogation room was bathed in dim, heavy light.
Goebel was still sitting there. The contours of his face and wrinkles were strangely pronounced.
He was an ugly man.
No, he was a grotesque creature. Looking at his face, I could fully understand Johann's comment about my appearance being a talent.
"..."
Goebel sat there, hiding his anticipation, and I simply stared at him. Goebel met my gaze in silence.
A long silence followed.
The one who speaks first is the one who is desperate.
"I'm sure you know."
Naturally, it was Goebel.
"There are too many loose ends for you to catch me."
He continued with a sly smirk.
"It's unavoidable. But that is politics. Covering for each other's flaws and compromising at a reasonable line."
"..."
"I understand how you feel. I can even accept the ill will the Knights harbor toward the Guard. Young blood tends to be like that."
Tap. Tap.
Goebel drummed his fingers on the steel table.
"But in the end, we are all civil servants working for the Empire. It means we're in the same boat."
Working for the Empire.
It was because there were too many people like him that the Empire had degenerated into this state, but for now, I suppressed my nausea.
"What did Chiron say?"
Goebel asked.
Instead of answering, I smiled.
"More than any of that..."
Goebel's brow twitched subtly.
"I have made my decision."
I had 'already' secured the evidence to kill Goebel whenever I wished.
"Power is balanced only when Commander Goebel remains in the Imperial Guard. There must be balance even in a place like that to prevent one side from becoming too powerful..."
A place like that. Goebel seemed to grit his teeth, taking my words as an insult to the Guard—which they were.
"...So, listen carefully."
I leaned back in my chair, tilting my gaze.
"A Knight of the Empire is choosing to let you live."
Goebel was silent for a long time. He bit his lip as if craving a cigarette. Indignation seemed to seethe in his heart, but...
"I won't reject your thoughts, but I have repeatedly stated that the Cartel's money was something I knew nothing about."
He folded his personal feelings and set them aside. He was a man who understood politics well. He knew he was at a disadvantage right now.
"Yes. Well then."
I pushed a blank sheet of paper toward him.
"Since you cannot take responsibility, Commander Goebel, write down some other suitable names. You'll have to cut off at least a finger or two."
Understanding my meaning, Goebel finally burst into laughter.
"Haha. Right. Someone needs to take the fall. It's truly regrettable that some of my subordinates were apparently taking money from the Cartel..."
He seemed satisfied with the situation. Perhaps he was even intoxicated by his own image as a leader who could coldly discard his subordinates.
However, these betrayals would pile up and eventually collapse the ground beneath his feet. An organization where trust is cracked and loyalty has evaporated is nothing more than a sandcastle.
"...However, I'm not well-informed about the situation outside, so I'll need some discussion. Can you call my comrades?"
I stood up and replied.
"Yes. I understand. Please wait comfortably."
Goebel nodded with satisfaction.
"Now we're finally speaking the same language."
Indeed, his face was one of absolute certainty in his victory.
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