Ch.135010 Investigation Record – At a New Corner of Life (3)

Carmen had fallen asleep on the sofa, drunk on champagne. Even though it wasn’t a comfortable sofa, she had curled up like a cat, so I brought her a blanket.

However, Carmen, who had been breathing softly, half-opened her eyes and smiled. She just gave me an eye-smile without saying anything, then wrapped herself in the blanket and truly fell asleep this time.

She seemed to wake up automatically whenever an opportunity to tease someone appeared. Now that she seemed genuinely asleep, I quietly got up and headed to my workspace. In reality, it was just a bedroom with a desk in it.

I’m glad I bought a typewriter with my own money. I didn’t bring any furniture that my family had provided, but I did bring the typewriter I had used in my original apartment.

I caressed the typewriter for a moment. Was this what I wanted when I tried to become a journalist? Did I want to shoot my father and run away after cutting ties with my family?

I wanted to believe it was entirely my fault, but I couldn’t. My family were good people, but they hid from me how deeply entangled the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn and the Clichy Corporation were.

But I wasn’t completely blameless either. I get sentimental at night. I had vomited out everything my family had given me, but the fact remained that I had benefited from the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn throughout my life. It was a joy that good facts didn’t change, but it was a sorrow that bad facts didn’t change either.

I felt like I was suffocating in this ambiguity. The memory of my determination was fading, and regrets were growing. Going to sleep early wouldn’t make me feel better, so I took a deep breath and got up.

Instead of revealing the aspects that resembled the Forest’s Firstborn and pouring out hatred, I steadied myself by recalling that I had told my father I loved him one last time.

No matter how much regret the things I hadn’t chosen brought me, the things I had chosen never made me regret. They couldn’t make me regret.

I decided to grasp the strength I had gained, which was as abundant as my regrets. There was no known way to say goodbye to regret, but there was certainly a way to live with it.

First, since it was late, I would call Uncle Leonard in the morning, but now I thought I should let the editor-in-chief know that Carmen was here.

I dialed the editor-in-chief’s home number. It didn’t take long for the call to connect, as if he had been waiting for it.

I spoke first so he wouldn’t need to ask who was calling. I worried that if I opened my mouth now, he might detect that I was drunk, but I hadn’t even had a proper drink, so it should be fine.

“Editor, it’s Rose. I originally came out with Carmen thinking we’d do some reporting together, but somehow she’s sleeping at my apartment now. I called because I thought you might worry.”

A comfortable laugh flowed from the other end of the line. It sounded like a voice of relief.

“It’s good that she’s with you. That girl never tells me where she’s going. She wouldn’t tell me where she’d been even if she came in tomorrow morning, so if it weren’t for you, Rose, I would have worried. Ah, perhaps…”

“She hasn’t been any trouble at all, so don’t worry! She’s sleeping in the living room. You know I moved, right?”

I mumbled those words with a faint laugh at the end. I didn’t need to elaborate on how Clichy was no longer Clichy. Still, the editor-in-chief seemed to recall something from my words.

“Ah, come to think of it, there was a phone call to my house a few hours ago, Rose. I’ve arranged it so people can contact my home when no one’s at the company. And they were looking for you.”

More work. It probably wasn’t something I needed to do at this hour, but if someone called outside the newspaper’s business hours, it must be urgent. A journalist shouldn’t turn down a story. I nodded, though he couldn’t see me.

“Oh, please give them my phone number! I’ll need to hear what it’s about. Could you also tell me exactly how they were looking for me?”

“It seemed to be about work. Thanks to Madam Ysil’s help last time, only our Golden Age Press published an article condemning the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn and the Clichy Corporation. They asked how to contact Rose Leafman, the journalist who wrote that article. Ah, judging by the voice, it was an elf. Does that ring any bells for you?”

It could be that remnants of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn were looking for me, but if my family had been trying to find me, they wouldn’t have called the newspaper. Money opens many doors.

I tapped a bundle of threatening letters that could heat a fireplace all winter if tied together, then smiled.

“It won’t be the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. They only send threatening letters to the newspaper. And you said they were looking for a journalist, right? Then it must be someone who has something to say. I’ll at least listen.”

A phone number wasn’t dangerous. If things seemed like they might get dangerous, I could hire Paulina for a day or so. The editor-in-chief didn’t seem too worried either.

The Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn had collapsed. Partly because they were suppressed by angels after shooting like the mafia in the middle of New York, and partly because my father had passed away.

My second older brother wasn’t as charismatic as my father. The Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn couldn’t exist without the Forest’s Firstborn who struck lightning, surrounded himself with storms, and spoke of the future.

If nothing else, it was fortunate that I no longer had to see masked elves shouting slogans like “Follow the Forest’s Firstborn and embrace the future” in the middle of city streets.

“Yes, I’ll give them your contact information… I think they’ll probably call tomorrow morning. If it’s more urgent, they might call tonight. Either way, have a good night.”

“Yes, you have a good night too, Editor!”

I didn’t just wait for the call. It was better to prepare a draft of the article before getting confirmation from Uncle Leonard, and as I was typing away, the phone naturally rang.

I picked up quickly so there would be no worry about me not answering. A fragile elf’s voice flowed from the other end of the line.

“Is this journalist Rose Leafman? I… I need help. Help. I called because I thought you might be able to help…”

The voice seemed to tremble. As if even speaking was burdensome, they barely managed to say a few words before gasping for breath. If there was something a journalist could do, I would do it.

“What kind of help do you need? All I can do is give you an interview or something like that… Please tell me more details.”

The elf on the other end of the line sighed deeply. Then they continued with their still trembling voice. It seemed like not seeing my face gave them some courage to speak.

“Well, I, I used to be a member of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. There was no other reason. I was just told that all influential elves join it, and it’s almost like a social gathering, so I should join without pressure. I needed connections. But… when I went to the first assembly, it was completely a cult.”

I recalled the elves gathered behind the broadcasting station in Pennsylvania. The easiest way for an elf to make connections was to become a follower of the Forest’s Firstborn.

I had momentarily forgotten that if there were people who joined because they were intoxicated by what the Forest’s Firstborn said, there were also people who joined for purposes like this. When I said I was listening, he continued.

“So after that, I didn’t go to the assemblies. I just didn’t refuse when they occasionally invited me to dinner. But when I saw what they did this time, I went to the building where they gather to quit completely, returned my mask and robe, and left… but as I was leaving the building, I was photographed. It was published in the newspaper the next day.”

People always needed a witch to hang and burn. Even those who couldn’t touch the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn when they were a fearsome group wanted compensation for the fear they had endured.

And when people want such things, journalists take such pictures. Newspapers were products. When there’s demand, supply follows to meet it. That’s how it is. But that wasn’t all.

The content of that product had to be true. The moment a journalist starts lying, the newspaper as a product loses its value. It just rots like an unsealed can.

I could also guess why he wanted to talk to me, not another journalist. There would be nothing more effective than having me, who first condemned the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, write an article defending him.

Both rationally and emotionally, this elf had come seeking the right help. I smiled pleasantly and answered.

“I’ll help you. I could publish a rebuttal article, but could you tell me which newspaper and which date the article was from? I don’t read all the newspapers in New York.”

He hesitated at my enthusiastic response, then opened his mouth. Whether he saw some hope, or thought I was nodding too easily, I couldn’t tell.

“It’s The Reveal. The date… it was a newspaper from a week ago. I keep it at home, so I could give it to you when we meet. That, um… are you really going to help me?”

The Reveal… It wasn’t a newspaper I knew. There were many newspapers in New York, so I couldn’t know them all. In times like this, I needed to give a definite answer.

“Yes, I’ll help you. I hate freeloaders. Being a journalist is a promise. A promise to tell the truth, even when it’s difficult, and not to lie. I despise people who try to freeload on the name of a journalist without keeping that promise as much as I despise the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. Oh, have you contacted other newspapers as well?”

Well, at least they didn’t have to meet a mafia branch manager while trying to tell the truth. Or almost get killed by a detective with twice the strength and vitality.

So I had every right to be angry now. At my definite answer, the trembling in his voice subsided a bit.

“Ah, yes. I also contacted The Reasonable Insight. They were the only ones who published a rebuttal article last week.”

The Reasonable Insight… that was the very newspaper that had insulted the Cowboy. No, that’s not right. Journalist Walter Moss had even sent me an apology letter. He apologized for acting barbarically in the name of reason.

Had he become a better person since then? In the moments when we face the most unpleasant things, we often also face the most pleasant things.

“Then I’ll also contact The Reasonable Insight. That newspaper praises reason, so they wouldn’t like this kind of witch hunt. Shall we meet tomorrow? I think it’s a journalist’s responsibility to prevent actions done with good intentions from hurting you.”

I felt like I was finally properly keeping the words I had spoken while going up to the party with Paulina. It seemed like I could now get a little closer to my ideal of what a journalist should be.

Of course, it wouldn’t be easy. Journalists hated admitting their mistakes. They thought that forcefully pushing through wasn’t shamelessness but strength and authority.

So I didn’t expect the matter to end with persuasion from the beginning. But I didn’t feel burdened. At least it would be easier than going into mafia territory to meet a mafia branch manager.

The elf, who had been speaking with a desperate voice, seemed to feel that his desperation had been understood, as the trembling in his voice stopped. The worry of being burned by a journalist and seeking help from a journalist subsides.

“Ah, yes! I’ll give you the address. But, probably at night or… a bit later would be better. There are orcs who come looking for me after seeing the article. My child is even hearing things like ‘Your parents are followers of the Forest’s Firstborn?’ at school, so it’s a big deal. I wish I hadn’t set foot in there just to gain some connections…”

“But the fact is that you did set foot in there. You must have known what the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn were doing, right?”

But he wasn’t innocent either. It was a clear fact that whenever the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn were active, non-elf races trembled in fear, got hurt, and died. His atonement was also necessary to conclude this matter.

Until now, I had been dealing with someone full of desperation and anxiety, so I had said things I wouldn’t normally say. I believed he would be ready to swallow his words.

“I said I hate freeloaders. I dislike you trying to freeload on the name of an innocent person as much as I dislike those people trying to freeload on the name of a journalist. Please promise to properly acknowledge and apologize. If you set foot in the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn for whatever reason, it’s something you obviously need to do. So, it’s not too much to ask, right?”

I ended with somewhat friendly words, but a groan sounded from the other end of the line. Still, I didn’t press him. I believed this desperate man would have that much will.

After the groaning continued for a while, he spoke in a voice that sounded like he was chewing and swallowing a lump of lead. Acknowledging responsibility is difficult.

“I’ll, I’ll do that. Just as much as I’m not a follower of the Forest’s Firstborn, I’m not a completely innocent and pure person either. I’ve never asked to be treated like a saint. I just want to be treated according to who I really am.”

After that, he gave me an address and advised me to visit at night, saying there was even an orc stationed around during the day. I will go during the day. I will go openly and proudly in broad daylight.

Would it be better to borrow Paulina for a day? This time, I wouldn’t use dirty methods, so there was no need to hire a detective.

It was also awkward to go with Carmen… It would be good to have someone who could protect me and give advice. Ah, I could also contact Mr. Willem.

This time, I had to choose my means. Fortunately, I had done it once before. So, what I heard then was… Ah, yes. Ragtime should never be played quickly. This matter also needed to be handled like ragtime music.

I bid farewell to the forgetfulness that had been clouding my mind until now. From now on, I would remember no matter what happened. Running away by not remembering was a child’s act, not an adult’s.

Sleep came easily that night too. This apartment, which had seemed cold, empty, and lonely, felt a little more like home on a day when I looked forward to tomorrow.