Ch.106The Third Entanglement – Clichy and Ragtime (5)

The car stopped behind the broadcasting station. There were two or three masked elves loitering around here too, but most had gathered in front of the station, so the commotion could only be heard from a distance.

When the party of seven got out, a few elves wandering nearby glanced their way, but unlike those frenzied elves at the front of the station, they just stared blankly without doing anything.

The detective noticed where we were looking and commented. He didn’t seem particularly concerned.

“Not all Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn are fanatics. Wearing that mask is the easiest way for elves to build connections. They came when called, but they don’t want to be mixed up in that mess over there, so don’t worry about them.”

A way for elves to build connections… Most of the journalist’s sources were elves introduced by the Forest’s Firstborn, so it could be said that he used the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn to expand his network.

Even as a journalist, he couldn’t escape responsibility. Nor did he have any reason to. The journalist took a deep breath to compose himself, while the detective checked two pistols from inside his coat.

One fit perfectly in his hand, but the other was rather small for a human grip. Usually, smaller bullets would be used, but these were handmade rounds packed with extra powder, so they would be loud.

“Gremory’s workers will act as a buffer. The angels know how much Gremory cherishes her workers, so they’ll protect them. If things turn really bad, an angry Gremory will show just how dangerous a magician can be when protected in a safe place. No need to worry, just listen to the broadcast.”

With those words, the detective disappeared around the broadcasting building, out of sight. He was probably heading to the back or side of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, but it wasn’t visible where he went.

The journalist, as instructed, led the two elves toward the broadcasting station. The staff tried to stop them, but upon seeing Madam Gremory following behind, they stepped aside, recognizing whose guests they were.

For a moment, he hoped Gremory would remain a benevolent demon. If so, this city—and Pennsylvania—could remain a good place. Now that possibility seemed as fragile as a candle in the wind.

There was still time before the broadcast. Entering a room marked “Waiting Room,” they found the orc who had looked quite disheveled when she first saw us, now waiting in neat formal attire.

Her once unkempt black hair was now smoothly arranged, and she wore a dark blue suit that orcs preferred.

The orc gave the two elves the journalist had brought a complicated expression. It was a look of uncertainty—whether to bare her tusks in hatred or welcome them.

Nina maintained that complex expression as she spoke. She hadn’t extended her hand yet, apparently wanting to check something first.

“You two must be the elves the journalist mentioned. I’m Nina Volkova, host of ‘Lancaster Evening’ radio program. There’s no reason for good feelings between us, but still… Well, I’ll be counting on you. Don’t mind the noise outside. Those pointy-eared bastards come and make that racket every time I broadcast. The fact that you walked in here instead of shouting out there already shows you’re not like them.”

It couldn’t have been pleasant to hear an orc boldly say “pointy-eared” in front of elves… but it was surprisingly good to see. The orc swallowed her fear and extended her hand first.

The two elves took her offered hand. Though their hands were completely mismatched in size, just as when shaking hands with the journalist, somehow they managed to clasp them together.

When people who have only seen prejudice about each other finally see each other’s true selves, this kind of reassurance passes between them. A fragile warmth sprouts—maybe they can be trusted after all.

Such warmth is usually trampled. But not today. After finishing the handshake, Nina clenched both fists and stood up. She led the two elves deeper into the broadcasting station.

Before settling in to await the broadcast, there was something that needed to be done. Standing up with Gremory, who hadn’t yet taken a seat, they headed to a corridor with a view of the station’s exterior.

The crowd was dense. Right in front of the broadcasting station, workers in sweat-and-heat-soiled work clothes formed a line, and in front of them, angels taller by a head or two than the gathered crowd blocked the road as a boundary. Behind them… there was green everywhere. It looked like hundreds had gathered, with some holding burning branches.

A few tried to rush toward the road blocked by angels, but when they did, the angels wrapped their wings around their bodies and pushed them back, preventing any major clash.

Is this how they usually suppress crowds? Normally they’d pull out batons and start beating people, causing many problems… Right, the angels knew Gremory was watching.

The scent of ozone quietly spread around Gremory, and soon she opened her mouth as if whispering. She was probably using communication magic.

“This is Gremory. For now, just keep blocking them like that, but if the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn use firearms… I’ll look the other way. If, perhaps. If, perhaps… something happens. You know what I mean? I’ll ensure you face no disadvantages no matter what happens, so please work hard for citizen safety.”

I could imagine what expression the angel wore after hearing Gremory’s doubly emphasized words.

Gremory, who briefly wore a cold expression worthy of an archdemon while delivering that message, soon relaxed her face and looked down at the workers lined up below the window. The warmth in her eyes was clearly visible.

Seeing her, a somewhat awkward-looking dwarf raised his head and shouted. The workers, who had formed ranks just as they would when striking and protecting their factory, turned around one by one.

“Look up there! Madam Gremory is here too! Everyone, look up! Hey, Willy! You look too!”

“It’s true! Madam Gremory! She’s the one who gave us a voice, and when we heard those creatures were trying to silence her, we all rushed over! If they want to silence Madam Gremory, they’ll have to get through us first! You point… uh, um! Followers of the Forest’s Greeting!”

He almost said “pointy-ears” but changed his words after seeing the elf next to Madam Gremory. The journalist smiled slightly at this.

“You can just shout it out! Normal elves won’t mind if you call those creatures pointy-ears! And it’s Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn!”

The kobold worker boldly shouted again, but he got it wrong once more. Well, there was no real need to say it correctly.

“I don’t know who you are, but thank you! They’ll have to get through us first! Followers of the Forest’s Elder!”

They were good people. Madam Gremory looked like she wanted to go down there and talk to them directly, but she deliberately stayed in the safe place without disrupting the plan. The plan came first.

Still, she spoke as if she wanted to go down there right away. She spoke in an ordinary voice without magic.

“Willy and Tolly came all the way here. They’re the most action-oriented among my employees. When there was a strike at the factory where those two work, they escaped on their own and went all the way to New York looking for help. They were the ones who brought the detective, actually.”

Did they bring the right person? The journalist quietly observed the crowd gathered in front. When looking at them, Gremory was definitely a good person.

Only after confirming that the workers gathered for Gremory were nearly as numerous as the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn did they return to Nina’s waiting room. Now it was time to listen.

The sound of the radio broadcast beginning filled the waiting room. It seemed as if not only the people gathered outside but even the clock in the room had fallen silent. The orc’s distinctive husky voice flowed from the radio.

“Once again, I’m Nina Volkova, announcing Lancaster’s evening with the setting sun. Yes, I’ve returned after barely escaping the train attack. Everyone was worried. ‘Nina, are you already okay?’ That sort of thing. Yes, I was afraid too. If there hadn’t been a delay, those elves would have pointed guns at my head, and today’s broadcast would have been announcing my obituary.”

It was a captivating voice. Rough and unrefined, but it was precisely that roughness and lack of polish that conveyed sincerity as she continued.

“But guess who came to see me? The very Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn who tried to kill me wanted to be on my broadcast. And with such flowery nonsense too. They hope people won’t fear these fanatics. How could that be possible? How can anyone not fear creatures who hang non-elves from trees and set fire to their homes!”

Her passionate tirade continued, swallowing blood. Just as shadows belong to the detective and anywhere a camera can capture belongs to the journalist, the microphone was this orc’s domain.

“But they said it could be done. They claimed these elves were simply too weak and frightened, seeking something to rely on, and were led astray by such vile things. Does that make any sense? These creatures killed our kinsmen for their own pleasure. To say they were merely led astray by vile things!”

The journalist knew these words weren’t denying him. She was building empathy. After raising it sufficiently, she would flip it. Perhaps this approach suited the journalist better than the detective’s methods.

“Let’s not get enraged. Don’t be furious. This elf didn’t come to defend them. He wants them to pay for their crimes and show their weak, frightened true faces so no one will fear them anymore! So let’s listen! Let’s see what kind of true face they have! Aren’t you tired of living in fear?”

Nina eased the tension with words only those of the same race could share—how ridiculous it was for the strong orc race to fear the weak elves—and then handed the microphone to the train attackers.

The train attackers couldn’t easily begin speaking. People are animals who take apologizing to others as a wound to their pride. It was uncertain whether they could do it in front of so many people.

However, soon a fragile elven voice flowed from the radio.

“I… I won’t reveal my name. Well, I was one of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. I was assigned number 12 in that train attack… and, actually, it wasn’t even that systematic. Number 16 didn’t like being the last number and just went home, and everyone kept forgetting their numbers so we mostly used names anyway…”

It seemed difficult just to say those words as he barely swallowed his breath. Whether from guilt or from the thought that simply confessing would end it all, sounds like sobbing naturally mixed through the microphone.

It was the perfect sound. There weren’t many people who couldn’t be persuaded by gruff sincerity and tears. And if most could be persuaded, it was as good as persuading everyone.

“Well, I… I joined because I heard it was for the sake of elves. They said Pennsylvania radio broadcasts were monopolized by orcs, so we elves couldn’t have a voice. They told me we had to kill the radio host for the sake of an elven company trying to start radio broadcasts here. The other passengers were just to be killed to disguise it as a random attack…”

Seeing him speaking like this proved that the Forest’s Firstborn—the journalist’s father—had lied. Even the elf who had tried to kill that host was now having his voice heard here.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass came from the corridor outside. It seemed one of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn had used magic to shoot a stone through the corridor window.

The journalist ducked down below the windowless area and went into the corridor. The shouts of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, which he hadn’t heard while focusing on the radio, were now ringing in his sensitive elven ears.

“Lies! Betrayal! How dare you say such things about people working for the future of our kind!”

“Those pig-smelling creatures are trying to silence us! It’s happening right now, you idiot!”

“How much were you paid to sell out your people’s future, you traitor!”

The shouts of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, which had risen to the point of explosion, were enough to make one’s ears bleed. The journalist was covering his ears when a sound much louder but much more pleasant to hear split the air.

A gunshot as loud as a normal pistol, close to an explosion, rang out amid those shouts. And among the murmuring elves, a lone angel’s voice announced a change in the atmosphere.

“An officer has been shot!”

At those words, even the shouts of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn stopped. They too seemed to be trying to find who had fired the shot. The voice of an elderly elf flowed, seemingly trying to mediate the situation somehow.

“Who shot? We, it wasn’t us! We didn’t shoot—”

The voice cut off. What cut it off was the sound of metal striking flesh, like tenderizing meat in a restaurant. The journalist now knew the identity of that cracking sound that came with it.

“Get out the batons! Suppress them all! Don’t even think about looking for the shooter! All those bastards are culprits! Madam has given permission!”

First came the sound of angels rising into the air with their heavy golden wings flapping, followed by the sound of solid, heavy objects plunging toward the ground.

The journalist crawled to the broken window and peered out with just his eyes. Judgment was unfolding. A virtue angel, enraged thinking a follower had injured his body, rose with his uncomfortable wings.

And then plunged right into the gathered elves. The elves’ fragile bodies were literally crumpled. With each swing of the gold-plated metal baton, that meat-mincing sound rang out repeatedly.

Could anyone still say they brought this upon themselves after seeing this? Apart from the chaos outside, Nina’s cheerful voice flowed from the radio into the journalist’s ears.

“There was a brief disturbance—it seems one of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn shot at an angel. Looks like the suppression authorization has finally come through! They seem to be smashing them to pieces! Where are all those supposedly powerful beings now? All I can see are disorganized elves trying to flee! Let’s continue speaking! The situation outside will calm down on its own.”

The journalist gritted his teeth. He barely reminded himself that if he hadn’t persuaded Gremory to call in the angels, those Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn would have stormed the building and thrown firebombs by now.