Chapter 29

◈ Chapter 29: Anaconda

"Mago, how certain are you?"

Captain Simena rested his chin on his hand and murmured.

He'd planted enough clues to frame the vampire as the culprit—a hundred percent certainty, no question. But he couldn't show his hand.

"It's merely a theory, sir. Still, I don't believe there's any harm in looking into it."

"You sound awfully sure. Almost like you've got something prepared."

"That's not—"

"Fine. It's always good to stay ready. I'll authorize a solo mission."

Simena waved a dismissive hand, as if it were nothing.

"But are you sure about this? It'll delay your deployment to the Special Forces significantly. The next time we meet, I was hoping you'd be wearing a black uniform. You're not rushing things, are you?"

"I believe I'll earn back whatever time I lose."

"You've got a silver tongue."

"Thank you, sir."

"That wasn't a compliment. Anyway, there's still one thing you haven't answered. Your plan is to go undercover at the tavern, work as a server, and gather intel. You want to confirm that the place is a vampire's nest. Am I right?"

"Yes, sir."

Simena tapped his index finger against the desk.

"You're a soldier. Not officially yet, but you're destined for the Imperial Army's elite Special Forces. So tell me—can you actually handle bar work? I'm asking if you can control your strength well enough."

"I was a slave until the end of last year, sir. I know menial labor better than anyone. I'm confident."

"Never thought that'd pass for experience... So, what's your timeline? When do you expect to wrap this up?"

He asked as casually as if he were checking the price tag on goods.

Too short, and it would sound desperate.

Too long, and it would reek of uncertainty.

So Mago aimed for the middle.

"I think two weeks will be enough, sir."

"Two weeks. Got it. One last question, Mago. What happens if you're wrong?"

There it was. The heart of the matter.

"If you used your Special Forces status as a weapon to investigate innocent civilians in the middle of a war, can you handle the consequences?"

"How do you suggest I handle them, sir?"

"That depends on the victim. But if you're asking me personally, I'd say stripping down naked is the most obvious answer. Think it over."

"Before I've even put on the black uniform..."

"Does that sound too difficult?"

"It will be difficult. But I'll see it through."

*

Captain Simena lined up the five 66th Class volunteers from the First Training Center in a single row.

"Louise Murphy. Oscar Sitta. Amon Coster. Bell Red. And lastly, Kinzo Shua."

He called them out one by one.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you. In a time of war, volunteering for the Special Forces couldn't have been an easy decision. I thank you for your courage."

Then, starting from the left, he handed each of them a black military uniform.

"Captain Simena, I have a question."

Kinzo's voice trembled as he spoke.

"Where... where has Mago gone? He was the Top Student of the 66th Class at the First Training Center, and he volunteered for the Special Forces. By procedure, he should be standing next to me..."

"Kinzo Shua."

"Yes, sir!"

"I hear you and Mago have been together since before you entered the training center. Tell me, in your opinion, what would you say is Mago's greatest weakness?"

"His... weakness?"

Kinzo hesitated for a moment, debating whether to bring up Mago's phobia.

But before he could reach a conclusion, Captain Simena cut in first.

"Mago's words and actions—combined with the Personal Competency Evaluation Forms filled out by the training center instructors—reveal one thing quite clearly."

"What's that, sir?"

"He's excessively independent. I'm not sure if it's driven by a sense of duty or responsibility or something else entirely, but he has a strong tendency to solve everything on his own, paired with an overinflated confidence. That's why I sent him on a solo mission. I sent him to fail."

Simena's words took Kinzo by surprise.

"Sir...?"

"The Special Forces must move as one. If Mago's independent streak isn't corrected, it will create problems in future operations. One person capable of solo missions—Marjelo Arnis—is more than enough. This assignment is to break that habit before he officially joins the Special Forces. He's a talented recruit, but for the rest of you, he's poison."

"Then, even if Mago does find the real culprit..."

"The death of the instructor is regrettable, but are they truly enemies of humanity? I'm not so sure yet."

Captain Simena quietly observed the recruits before him.

Mago. Go and learn well. Learn that you can't do it alone.

Before him stood five recruits in a neat line.

He knew each of them had their own standout skills.

And for that very reason, he needed a leader who could trust those skills and draw out their maximum potential.

The seat is empty. Whenever you're ready, it's yours.

*

We are one.

Captain Simena was probably saying something along those lines right about now.

And yet he'd sent me off on a solo mission without much explanation.

A fresh recruit who had only just been assigned to the Special Forces.

It was an absurd decision.

He valued the group more than any other commander I'd ever known.

Moving the team like a single body.

It was crucial. And it was difficult.

But he'd done it.

He'd pulled it off so many times that it was the reason he deserved to be Captain.

So for Simena, who always wanted the Special Forces to operate as one, to give me a solo mission...

Something was definitely off.

"Maybe he wants me to realize I can't do it alone..."

That would mean he'd gladly accept a request for backup if I sent one.

I couldn't read his mind at all.

The Special Forces consisted of the 1st Unit through the 41st Unit.

That had been the case until last week.

But starting this week, with the 66th Class from the First and Second Training Centers deployed, the roster had expanded to 43 units.

As if proving that the unit numbers corresponded to combat strength.

Captain Simena and Marjelo Arnis held the 1st Unit.

I recalled the 1st Unit insignia pinned to their chests.

"I need to get there soon..."

That was why I had to complete this mission successfully.

Everything was for rapid promotion.

To gain higher authority and push forward my plan to eliminate the officers as soon as possible.

I had been given dozens of puzzle pieces necessary to solve this case.

And before I even picked up a single piece to fit it into place, I had already seen the complete picture in my past life.

The big picture.

I just had to speak the results based on what I already knew.

If I knew everything and still failed, I'd end up neither here nor there.

I had to stake everything.

"Within two weeks."

First: prove that the tavern I'd identified was a den of vampires.

Second: prove that those vampires were enemies of humanity.

Third: push the Special Forces in to wipe them out.

The high-ranking officers of the Demon King's Army were the Demon King's blades. I knew exactly how they were forged and how sharp they cut.

There were only two ways to extinguish the Demon King's power:

Steal the sword.

Or break it.

The option of letting him keep it had never been on the table.

*

I took a wagon south.

A full two days.

Two of my precious fourteen, gone.

The moment I stepped off the wagon, I bought plain clothes. A white tunic and brown trousers. I picked fabric that would make me look like an ordinary commoner.

It had been a while since I'd taken off a uniform.

Now, dressed in civilian clothes, the street beneath my feet felt strangely foreign. Unnatural.

"Somehow... it's suffocating."

I'd never set foot in an Entertainment District before, and every second of it was grating.

War didn't shut down places like this. If anything, judging by what I saw—people vomiting from binge drinking, others brawling in the alleys—they were disturbingly detached from the war.

This kind of luxury was only for the privileged, sure. But it was obvious that the lifeblood of the Entertainment District was still pumping.

The southerners hadn't seen the war yet.

It was sheer safety hypochondria.

Come to think of it, I'd never even let my guard down enough to enjoy myself. When the war was over, maybe I'd get my chance.

I let myself think that, just for a moment.

A four-story brick building stood squarely in front of me, its lines sharp and clean.

"Anaconda."

That was the name.

A name that stood out.

A name I remembered.

A tavern run by an old vampire—a Vampire Lord.

Each floor had wide-open terraces. In this raucous district, Anaconda was especially crowded.

I scanned the building's wall.

A row of help-wanted ads was plastered there.

I picked one out, skimmed it, and walked into the tavern.

"Welcome!"

The moment I pushed open the door, a staff member greeted me.

She was a woman with black hair and crimson eyes.

"Are you with anyone?"

Behind her, I could see the bar counter. Below it, round stools. The customers sitting there looked like they were at the perfect height to chat with the bartender.

"No. I saw the help-wanted ad."

"Oh, right. Um... could you wait in the corner for a bit? I'll be back soon!"

She abandoned me and scurried off.

The place was chaotic and loud. Music and customers' voices blended together into a dizzying roar. Whether they'd intentionally dimmed the atmosphere or not, the first floor only had six ceiling lights.

A dull orange glow.

A bartender shaking drinks.

A musician strumming a ukulele.

Men and women with flushed faces.

"Feels like a different world."

Was the war just none of their business?

Or were they trying desperately to forget?

I couldn't make sense of any of it.

I had a gut feeling that even this strangeness was connected to the vampires.

I waited a little longer.

"Sorry to keep you waiting...!"

The staff member came running back.

"This way, please!"

She took the lead and climbed the stairs.

"You're handsome."

"What?"

"We hire based on looks. Oh, right. Let me tell you about Anaconda. The first floor is for customers who want to drink quietly."

"It didn't seem that quiet."

That was when we reached the second floor.

It was even louder than the first.

A deafening roar that made my ears ring.

I wanted to cover them right away.

"I guess it was quiet."

I corrected myself immediately.

"The second floor is for customers who want to drink loudly. The third floor is for customers who want to cut loose."

"What about the fourth floor?"

"For customers who don't want to drink."

"What's that supposed to—"

"This way!"

She cut me off.

She led me to the second-floor kitchen.

Staff members in white uniforms were busy preparing food.

He followed the woman through a narrow corridor in the kitchen to another room—a single-room break area, as she explained.

"Vice Manager! He's here about the job."

She spoke to a man lounging lazily inside.

The Vice Manager gave Mago a quick once-over.

"Start today."

Just like that.

"Simple enough, I suppose... What should I start with?"

"Didn't you see the ad on the wall? We're looking for servers."

"If you give me a task, I can do anything."

"No, no. That's fine. Start with serving. If there's something else, I'll let you know."

He looked Mago up and down.

"Are you any good with strength? Not expecting much from that build, but..."

Strength, he asks.

Mago almost let out a dry laugh.

"Work only on the first and second floors. And just so you know—don't go up to the third or fourth. Ever."

Those words sounded exactly like an invitation to investigate.

*

"The new guy can carry two oak barrels at once."

"Two oak barrels?"

"Full ones, no less."

"Huh."

"Don't know where he worked before, but whoever had him must've had an easy time."

"Table five, first floor. Order up."

Mago slipped the order slip into the kitchen.

The kitchen staff's chatter stopped.

Day three at Anaconda.

Ten days left of the promise with Captain Simena.

"Mago, take these."

The Head Chef pointed to two plates.

"Where to?"

"Table eighteen, second floor. You've memorized the second floor, right?"

"Of course."

He picked up the plates with both hands and left the kitchen.

First floor to second floor. Second floor back to first floor.

Back and forth, carrying food.

The staff at Anaconda seemed to like him.

Because he hadn't made a single mistake so far.

Bit by bit, he earned their trust.

He reminded himself to find evidence and report to Captain Simena.

To work hard at Anaconda—

But never forget his real purpose.