Ch.109The Third Entanglement – Clichy and Ragtime (8)

“Why are you doing this, Rose? Have you never thought that all of this might be due to a terrible misunderstanding?”

The president of Clichy Corporation instantly changed his voice from one berating the detective to that of a weak, elderly father. He was trying to preserve the family bond even if their relationship was cracking.

But the reporter had already steeled her resolve. If anything, the president’s desire to pretend none of this had happened only strengthened her determination.

The detective was someone who could turn away from wrongdoing regardless of the reason, but her father seemed unwilling to let go of anything in his grasp. That’s why the reporter finally managed to speak.

“I’ve probably tried more than you have, Father. I made every effort to resolve my doubts, but all I discovered was that everyone was hiding something from me. It’s too late to back out now, Father. I’ll continue my investigation and my reporting. Presenting a blank page when there’s something that needs to be written is also a lie.”

President Clichy felt both proud and horrified. Seeing his child trying to surpass him for the first time was exhilarating, but hearing her say she would step over him was utterly terrifying.

However, he had now decided on a course of action. He had no intention of harming Rose, but he would show his power to persuade her again. This child might have more ability than he had thought.

“The seed that sprouts last often grows the tallest, Rose. Yes. But I hold lightning in one hand and wildfire in the other. This isn’t something you can handle empty-handed. Eventually, you’ll learn to recognize reality and compromise. I’ll be waiting for that moment, and hoping not to experience the feeling of losing family again.”

Lightning is mythical, and wildfire burns uncontrollably.

Lightning represented the authority of the Forest’s Firstborn, and wildfire represented the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. Fortunately, the reporter had something to counter both.

“I have a torch and electricity in my hands, so I’ll be fine. And sadly, I’m already suffering from the feeling of losing family. All the memories you’ve given me feel like a thin glass shell. What’s more terrible is that you were sincere during that time. It’s horrifying that both are my father.”

Electricity is practical, and a torch burns just enough to light the way.

Electricity was the detective. He always knew how to choose the best path with minimal resistance, like electricity. He was someone who could get a person to their destination by any means necessary.

The torch was Rose Clichy’s cause. It was a clichéd tale of good triumphing over evil—someone who had lived off the prosperity created by wrongdoing deciding to stop that wrongdoing.

She wanted to see that clichéd tale of good triumphing over evil play out properly once more. She wanted to see it like when she and the detective had found the forty missing children.

She had already failed countless times. The Cowboy had died from a bullet to the forehead. The article she had written while her life was threatened had been taken by Giuseppina. The poet had taken his own life. The story she had pestered the detective to tell was something terrible she should never have heard. There had been so many failures.

By now, she should have accepted the reality that evil prospers and cities overflow with vileness—that’s what those merciless failures seemed to be asking her.

However, those failures had given the reporter an answer. She finally responded now. She had finally crafted an answer by piecing together all the fragmented words.

No, nothing is realistic except reality itself. There’s no black and white, only gray. There’s no vile city, only New York in 1924. The battle between good and evil probably never existed in the first place. In the end, it’s just desires clashing. So, to achieve what I want, I need to use whatever I believe is right and do my best right here, not in some ideal or fantasy.

After a brief silence, Rose Clichy tried to end the call briefly. Though she wouldn’t have known it, her words mirrored those of Charles Clichy.

“If my words sounded like an ultimatum, then we’re going to war, Father. You must have heard that the followers in Pennsylvania were crushed by angels. I would gladly let the detective…”

But her words were cut off. This was unlike Charles Clichy, who had always listened to his children’s words to the end. He now truly felt that his daughter was going to wage a real battle.

His goal wasn’t battle. Not a battle where the New York followers would die in droves, reducing his influence, but to hear one word of surrender from his daughter—this daughter who had shown such strength.

“Rose, you know there’s no need for that. The fighting spirit, the ambition I never imagined you’d have… Yes, you’ve already shown all these traits that make you so much like me. This should be enough. What I wanted was to show you reality, hear one word of surrender, and then embrace you again. Will you really turn this into a battle when it could end with just one word of surrender?”

Rose Clichy continued calmly. She had already tried compromise. And it felt terrible. She didn’t want to do something that made her feel terrible again. Emotions are fragmentary.

“I will gladly entrust it to him. And yes, it will end with one word of surrender. Yes. If you confess that you are the Forest’s Firstborn and that you used those elven supremacists to grow Clichy Corporation, it will end.”

After making it clear there would be no compromise, Rose hung up. Without taking a breath or a deep sigh, she immediately called Ysil.

She had declared war, and since she would send the detective out to work, she needed more people to protect her. Paulina would certainly protect her, but she didn’t want to risk her life.

The call connected after just one ring. This time Hector answered, as it was during business hours, but what she had to say remained the same. The reporter introduced herself without hesitation.

“It’s me, Hector. Rose Clichy. First, I want to thank Ysil for protecting the Golden Age Press. And I’d like to ask if I could come over right now… is that okay?”

Hector could now tell that her voice was shedding its childish quality. Not completely, though.

To truly end childhood, a catalyst was needed. Even a well-maintained and loaded gun won’t fire unless the trigger is pulled. She needed an event that would serve as that trigger.

“No need to ask, Miss Rose. She said you could come anytime. You knew where Ysil lives, right?”

The reporter felt that stinging headache again. The cause was unknown. It would be better to say that trying to figure it out was meaningless.

“No, I’d like you to tell me the address again. And could I also borrow a car that humans can drive? My employee left his car in Pennsylvania. He couldn’t help it since he was trying to get here quickly.”

She asked Hector for a car the detective would need to get around New York. After he gave her the address first, the answer came as if it were obvious.

“You know providing a car is no trouble at all, Miss Rose. You’d better come quickly. From your voice, it sounds like you’ve already had a showdown with Charles Clichy.”

This was more like a horse race. All eyes were watching the running horses. Not many people would speak up since President Clichy had told them to keep quiet, but interest was pouring in.

The reporter hung up, not forgetting to say thank you. After sighing, she looked up at the detective. His head, which usually seemed drowsy, was now firmly set.

“Michael, you found a very simple way to crush the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn in Pennsylvania. This time, I’d like you to do the same to the New York branch. They brought this on themselves by silencing every newspaper except the Golden Age Press. And, be careful not to get struck by lightning. Not because you’re my trump card, but because that’s just who I am.”

The reporter wanted to change while also wanting to remain the same. Though she knew she had to say goodbye to the flower garden in her mind, she wanted to keep at least a handful as a bouquet.

To these words filled with lingering attachment, the detective gave the best possible answer. He gave the answer she needed.

“There’s going to be a gathering soon. Even though the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn are powerful, if they want to properly cause riots and disturbances in the city center, they need to hold a gathering in the forest to fill those stupid elves’ narrow minds with fanaticism about the Forest’s Firstborn. If we set fire to that gathering, most of them will be wiped out.”

The reporter couldn’t help but think the detective was more frightening than impressive for immediately coming up with a plan. It seemed like he might have a plan to deal with her tucked away in a corner of his mind too.

But she quickly shook her head. That’s why he was trustworthy. That’s why he was someone she had to trust.

“Let’s go then! First, we need to borrow a car from Ysil so you can get around easily. Oh, and in case you’re short on expenses…”

The reporter returned the $120 the detective had given her. She hadn’t withdrawn money from her family account. She didn’t want to continue using the family account while rejecting the prosperity gained through wrongdoing.

They got back into the car driven by Paulina and headed across New York to the wealthy neighborhood where Ysil lived. It wasn’t far from where the detective had assassinated the congressman.

Where a person lives speaks to their status. The fact that Ysil lived here meant that she was someone who could easily manipulate an association or two.

“First, since all my police and prosecutor sources were part of my father’s network, I’ll try to plan how to bring in law enforcement through Ysil. Oh, and we should also prepare for the people around you, detective…”

The detective didn’t have many people to worry about. At most, there was only the bartender and Levi. For the bartender, he could contact the gnolls. Two Face was the goose that laid golden eggs for them. With their grudge against President Clichy, they wouldn’t refuse a request to protect the bartender.

It would be better to entrust Levi to Yehoel. That guy quite liked the coffee at Cafe Caligula too. As for his war comrades… if Charles Clichy tried to touch them, he would see why the word “invincible” was in the name of the Argonne Invincibles. There was no one else to worry about.

“I’ll handle it myself, so don’t worry. And you said President Clichy would use an operative. I’ll tell you who it is, so have that orc Hector track him. If he’s a bounty hunter, he should be able to tail someone.”

He would probably try to deal with the New York branch leader. Given that old man’s personality, there was no chance he would handle the branch leader directly. Or was there? When he called, there was no sound around the phone.

That meant he had used a noise-canceling spell. That old man didn’t use noise-canceling spells when making calls from his office. Such magic wasn’t really necessary when you were at the top floor of a building anyway.

The detective had sensitive senses too, but they couldn’t compare to an elf’s, so he asked:

“When you were on the phone with your father, was there any ambient noise? Not other noises, but sounds that should naturally be there. Like wind tapping on windows or voices from outside. You can hear with elven senses, right?”

After thinking for a moment, the reporter shook her head. There was none at all. Strangely, none at all.

“No, not at all. It was like he was in a completely isolated space with no sound. Wasn’t it his office?”

“If you couldn’t even hear the wind, it wasn’t his office. He must be in the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn’s building. And the only reason that old man would be there now is to personally reprimand and deal with the New York branch leader. Have Ysil’s people immediately check hospitals and morgues around New York. See if there are any patients admitted for electrical accidents, and if there are, secure them. Even a corpse would be fine.”

The detective didn’t ask again if she understood. He now had enough trust that she would understand the first time.

“Yes, yes! If we find even a corpse, we could link it to murder. There aren’t many magicians who can use electrical magic.”

“No, there aren’t many, but President Clichy isn’t the only one. There might be an abundance of circumstantial evidence but no physical evidence. Unless we find a police officer whose head is spinning with the word ‘justice,’ it would be difficult to implicate him. You find one. I don’t think I need to give you instructions one by one anymore.”

That statement seemed to sound like a diploma to Rose Clichy. Seeing her eyes light up innocently again, the detective didn’t really try to stop her. A person’s core never changes.

Upon arriving at Ysil’s mansion, the detective borrowed a phone without even greeting Ysil. He took out a police notebook from his pocket and immediately dialed a number written in it. It was Inspector Jonathan Pace’s notebook.

After making another call to what seemed like a police number, he immediately left the mansion in the car Ysil had prepared. He was indeed a detective worth $30 a day rather than $20.

The detective went straight back to his apartment and opened the closet. He packed the entire spool of John Bolt’s sturdy fishing line into his duffel bag. He checked his fireproof safe again, which contained necessary documents and saved cash.

If someone set fire to his home, only his clothes and neighbors would burn. Anyway, he still had quite a bit left from the bounty he received for catching that illegal immigrant woman, so replacing his wardrobe wouldn’t be a problem.

The Hanger of New York had shown that an Argonne Invincible with bad intentions could easily kill forty people in a day. And that was from a veteran who had been living only as an office worker and husband.

The detective had already chosen his side. Just as it was now impossible for President Clichy to come over to this side, it was equally impossible for the detective to go over to that side. So he had to handle things cleanly.

Driving a mid-range car that wouldn’t stand out—quite modest for something prepared by Madam Ysil—the detective stopped at his usual gas station to buy gasoline. Since he only needed to deliver a warning, he didn’t need much gasoline.

Fortunately, the detective had extensive experience working with the New York branch of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. While he had never been to the branch leader’s home, he had been invited to the homes of action leaders several times.

Still, it seemed like the first time he was visiting with such a gift. It wasn’t his style to buy expensive gifts while going to eat tasteless elven food for dinner.