Backdoor Deal – 1

“Excuse me. Could you spare a moment of your time?”

The weekend passed with a bad aftertaste. A few days later in the afternoon, a familiar face approached me.

“You’re that…”

“Yes, that’s right. We meet again.”

A lifeless face and gloomy voice as if he had just climbed out of a grave. Yet, in contrast, a strangely accommodating attitude. It was that investigator I’d seen during Cordelia’s sparring incident. He handed me a business card.

“A business card?”

“The situation is different from last time. Today’s visit is somewhat personal.”

Imperial Security Department, Intelligence Bureau, Team 3 Leader, Cicero. I alternated between looking at the card and his face. Intelligence Bureau? He wasn’t part of the Security Bureau?

It felt like someone I thought was a detective suddenly presenting a National Intelligence Service agent’s card.

“Is it alright for you to carry around a business card with this information so openly?”

“Of course, I have public-facing cards too. This one I only give to those I feel are acceptable to reveal my identity to.”

He, or rather Cicero, casually showed me another card. Though, I still doubt whether even this name is real.

“The reason I’m here is to introduce myself and ask for your cooperation.”

“Didn’t you say this was a personal matter?”

Coming out of nowhere and asking for cooperation with an investigation feels a bit unpleasant. At my gruff tone, he started with surprise and waved his hands.

“No, no. It’s not what you’re thinking, Young Master. Apart from this incident, I have a ‘favor’ I’d like to ask of you.”

“A favor?”

“It’s a bit awkward to discuss here. Let’s go somewhere else.”

After a moment’s consideration, I nodded. It seemed unlikely that he, a mere civil servant, would have any malicious intent, and even if he did, I was confident I could handle it. While this might seem like an overly simplistic approach, when you’re physically capable, you can afford to think less.

Besides, my schedule was completely empty. Hestia was holed up in her dormitory room working on assignments, and Cordelia and Seol-ah had gone out together. And when those three aren’t around, I have no one to hang out with.

As we left the school gates, Cicero lightly clapped his hands twice. A thin barrier of mana surrounded him and me.

“Is this magic?”

“Yes. It’s a perception-hindering spell. It’s better if we don’t attract attention.”

Cicero took me outside the Academy entirely. His footsteps gradually headed toward less populated areas, eventually reaching a high-crime area at the outer edge of the shopping district. Perhaps sensing my suspicious gaze, he volunteered an explanation.

“As you might have guessed, there are aspects that are somewhat awkward for state power to handle. Looking for places with minimal public attention brought us here.”

What on earth is he involved in? Adding to my unease, he stopped in front of a dilapidated building that looked like it could collapse at any moment. Old oak barrels were scattered around, suggesting it might have once been a tavern.

“Please, come in.”

He greeted me with an exaggerated manner. Will this place collapse? I followed his guidance and opened the creaking door.

Unlike its precarious exterior, the inside of the building was quite clean. Contrary to the old tavern appearance, the interior had a structure resembling an underground prison. There was an empty space in the center, surrounded by rooms blocked by iron bars. The caged areas were well-lit, but the central empty space was dark. It’s a form I’d seen in books before. Called a panopticon, I believe.

Cicero approached the empty central space. I followed him. The faces of the inmates, which hadn’t been visible from the entrance, could now be clearly seen.

“They should be familiar faces.”

As he said, in each room were familiar faces sprawled out. The three who had attacked us a few days ago. And one woman whose face I vaguely remembered. They all looked physically fine, but their unfocused eyes suggested they weren’t quite in their right minds.

Honestly, it wasn’t a pleasant sight. While I didn’t harbor any good feelings for them and certainly thought they deserved punishment, I had no desire to see signs of torture.

“Is this what you wanted to show me? What exactly have you done to these people?”

I questioned him without hiding my displeasure. Cicero answered nonchalantly.

“I swear we didn’t use direct violence or mental magic. Such methods leave a bad aftertaste and aren’t very effective anyway.”

“Then why are they all mentally broken like this?”

“We didn’t give them water or food and didn’t let them sleep. We’ve gone a little over 70 hours. We plan to reach exactly 100 hours. Going beyond that causes aftereffects. Don’t worry. Humans are tougher than you think, and despite their current state, they’ll be completely fine after a few days of rest once released.”

Honestly, this seems scarier than direct violence or mental magic. I felt a chill at his horrifying words delivered with such a casual expression.

He took out a cigarette.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

A small flame appeared at Cicero’s fingertip. He took out a cigarette from inside his coat, lit it, and took a deep drag.

After exhaling smoke a few times, he spoke.

“You probably have many questions.”

“Who is that woman over there?”

As he suggested, I did have quite a few questions. I didn’t hesitate to ask what I’d been curious about.

He said the faces would be familiar to me, and while her face did seem familiar, I couldn’t recall who she was. This is impossible considering my extremely limited social circle.

In response to my question, he asked back with a bewildered expression. He apparently thought I would definitely know her.

“You don’t know? She’s the one who gave Maxim the drug. She claims she didn’t know what kind of drug it was, but we can’t just believe that. The moment she fed someone a suspicious drug and commissioned bodily harm…”

“Wait, she did that?”

But why on earth? Seeing my confusion, the investigator also became confused.

“You really don’t know her?”

“No. She looks familiar, but I can’t quite remember.”

The investigator rummaged through his coat. After a moment, a bundle of documents from his coat was placed in my hands.

“Please read this.”

What he gave me was a document related to the woman lying in the prison.

“Is it alright to show me this?”

“After showing you this much, what more could be problematic?”

That’s true. I read through the document.

Name. Something something. Not important, so I’ll skip it. Age. Obviously 18. Skip. Height and weight? Not interested. Skip.

There wasn’t anything particularly important in the personal information. I don’t know her name, so what good would knowing her height or weight do? I quickly flipped past the first page.

What was important was her statement regarding the incident on the next page.

Motive for the crime. The suspect and her friend A, while smoking in the smoking area behind the library, were talking about Cordelia von Deneb when they were reprimanded by Mikhail von Sirius, a friend of Cordelia von Deneb. Harboring resentment from this, the suspect…

Only after reading this far could I remember her face. During the exam period, I had coincidentally encountered her in the library’s smoking area. I remember confronting her when she was excitedly gossiping about Cordelia.

No wonder I couldn’t remember her face. For me, it was like admonishing a teenager smoking on the street or a noisy old man on public transportation—a trivial encounter I had completely forgotten. Who remembers the face of every person they meet on the street a month ago?

I continued reading what was written next.

Having developed a grudge against Mikhail von Sirius and Cordelia von Deneb from that incident, the suspect intended to harm Cordelia von Deneb, with whom she had a poor relationship from before. Upon hearing about the sword sparring during the midterm exams, the suspect purchased a drug that temporarily enhances skills through black market dealings from an unknown man—this part was underlined with strikethrough text indicating it was a lie.

The sparring opponents were announced in advance, and Cordelia von Deneb’s opponent was economically disadvantaged, making it possible to bribe him with the condition of future employment in her family. The suspect requested, “Inflict moderate injuries. Creating scars in visible places would be difficult to handle, so I’d like scars in places that aren’t visible.” She also provided the drug she had obtained from the black market, instructing him to take it if he seemed unlikely to win.

Currently, the suspect denies any relationship with Mikhail von Sirius, but given her past actions, it is presumed that, like with Cordelia von Deneb, their relationship was originally poor.

Everything after that was information I already knew. Maxim, surprised by Cordelia’s unexpectedly superior skills, took the drug, lost his reason, forgot all the original demands, and went berserk before being subdued.

After reading the entire report, my first thought was:

“Isn’t she insane?”

“According to the mental evaluation, she doesn’t have any particular disorders.”

Then is she just a brat? I mean, getting some criticism for gossiping and then going as far as bribing someone to do something like this?

“Are you really not acquainted with her?”

“No. She might have harbored a one-sided grudge against me, but at least I don’t know her. As stated, I first saw her at the smoking area.”

Despite my vehement reaction, Cicero seemed to find it difficult to believe that the woman and I were strangers.

“She’s not in her right mind. Well, she wasn’t in her right mind the moment she tried to harm the treasured daughter of a ducal family.”

He puffed on his cigarette for a while as if he had a headache.

“Sigh, this means we need to recalibrate our investigation. We’ve been investigating under the assumption that there was a connection with you, Young Master, so naturally nothing turned up.”

Cicero shook his head several times and then stubbed out his cigarette, which had become too short to smoke, in an ashtray.

“Well, now that your curiosity has been satisfied, may we proceed with what I originally wanted to discuss?”

“Yes, of course.”

“To be straightforward, please take our side.”

I felt perplexed. Help with what? Does he want me to sit here and do document organization?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said. What I’d like to ask of you is just the one thing I mentioned.”

He held up his index finger.

“Take our side. I don’t necessarily mean you have to do something. It’s fine even if you just stay put.”

“Stay put?”

“Originally, power is sharper when it’s sheathed than when it’s openly wielded. Even if you don’t do anything, the very fact that you’re on our side will be a source of strength.”

His words were persuasive. In school, kids rumored to have a scary older brother as backup never actually called on that brother, yet they never got into trouble. The scale in my heart slightly tilted.

“Then what can you offer me?”

“Information. Don’t you want to prevent such incidents from happening in the future? And you don’t plan to just sit idly by to achieve that, right? We will provide you with the information we can.”

As he said, if such incidents continued to occur, I would have devised countermeasures. With Mikhail’s strength and Seol-ah, who is an amateur but reliable information route, I could handle most situations. But having more information is never a bad thing.

It seemed like a good proposal. Just by lending my support, I’d gain a trustworthy source of information.

“May I ask a few more questions?”

Before making any contract, it’s essential to thoroughly examine it. I asked about other points I was curious about.

He explained very willingly.

“Why me specifically?”

“It’s not just specifically you. The Young Master has always been a top-priority target. Certain incidents just accelerated the timeline.”

So you’re saying you’ve made similar deals with other students too? Despite being in a romance fantasy world filled with conspiracies and schemes, it’s a bit shocking to think there are other students engaging in such dubious transactions.

“Are there many cases like mine?”

“Regardless of quantity, we generally make such proposals to heirs of families. Trust grows with time, doesn’t it? For our smooth operations, we establish good relationships while you’re still pursuing your studies. So that even after you complete your education and return to your family, you can maintain a trusting relationship with us.”

Seeing my shocked expression, he smiled and continued.

“Of course, cases as turbulent as the Young Master’s are rare. Usually, we provide trivial information. For instance, exam cheat sheets. In extreme cases, some receive information about new girls at the nearby brothel.”

“Why do you even have such information?”

It’s too trivial. Despite my contemptuous expression, he answered my question calmly without any change in demeanor.

“There’s no place where more diverse information flows than a brothel. Haven’t you heard of pillow talk? Men typically become most loose-lipped in bed.”

Is that so? Considering that even in martial arts novels, pleasure houses are an essential element of intelligence networks, perhaps it’s not as sleazy as it seems.

“Have all your questions been resolved?”

“Yes.”

“Then, are you willing to accept our proposal?”

Cicero extended his hand.

“Gladly.”