Ch.138010 Investigation Record – At a New Corner of Life (6)

I left the apartment with the visitor’s log clutched to my chest. I immediately hailed a taxi and headed toward Old Empire Street.

The angry orc was afraid, but I had never feared journalists. So I didn’t bring any security guards. In fact, constantly walking around with a lawyer like I had been doing until now would have looked more suspicious.

Still, once this is over, I should call Paulina or visit her. Though I’ve lived with Paulina for a long time, I’ve never actually been to her home. As a lawyer at a big firm, she must have a nice place, right?

If nothing else, I knew she had spent quite a bit of money on her kitchen. Even in that mansion-like apartment, Paulina always said the kitchen was woefully inadequate. That was very ogre-like of her.

After arriving at Old Empire, I stepped out of the taxi feeling the seemingly burning gazes of orcs. While many orcs might know a journalist’s name, few would recognize their face.

Although my picture had been taken, Paulina and the detective had shielded my body, so my face wouldn’t have been properly captured from any angle. Enduring those stares, I entered the first newspaper office on my list.

This was a paper that had published an article supporting The Reveal’s piece. Thanks to James organizing the materials for me, all I had to do was show my face and persuade them. Comfort can be shared.

I squared my shoulders. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the receptionist. Once again, I didn’t receive a warm welcome, but when I took out my business card and handed it over, their expression softened somewhat.

“I’m Rose Leafman from Golden Age Press. I’m here about the article The Reveal published recently…”

When bringing up the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn in front of an elf, considerable thought would be needed, but in front of a journalist who had exposed those same followers, not many words were necessary.

“Ah, the article exposing those pseudo-elves? Our newspaper published a supporting piece too. We were probably the first to do so. A reporter with connections to them brought it in claiming it was a scoop.”

So The Reveal had pulled them in. To publicize an incident, one needed to recruit as many newspapers as possible to publish articles collectively. One scoop is just a scoop, but when journalists everywhere copy it, it becomes truth.

“Could I meet that reporter? While I appreciate your help in exposing the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, I think there might have been insufficient fact-checking.”

Such a reason seemed to almost make them want to send me away, but at least the name of the original whistleblower still carried some weight. The goodwill that had appeared in their eyes upon seeing my business card began to fade.

“If you say so, I suppose we should hear you out. The article was written by Mike Curney, who works in the Social Affairs Department on the third floor. Go up and straight ahead, you’ll see desks, and beyond them, there’s an office.”

The receptionist placed their index and middle fingers on their cheek and whispered something. The scent of ozone briefly wafted around.

“Thank you!”

My thanks were loud, but no pleasant response came. After composing myself, I took the elevator to the third floor. Perhaps because the building was designed for orcs, the elevator was quite spacious.

Arriving on the third floor, I entered an office that, while mostly populated by orcs, wasn’t much different in atmosphere from Golden Age Press. The orcs glanced at me as if wondering why an elf was here.

Golden Age Press occupied a three-story building in total, but here, the entire third floor was just the Social Affairs Department. This was a much larger newspaper than ours, where there were no separate editorial writers, where I could write editorials too, and where department distinctions were minimal.

I was becoming somewhat accustomed to the piercing gazes. It was like getting used to sunlight. Of course, it still felt like my skin was tingling, just as when adjusting to sunlight.

Enduring those gazes, I followed the receptionist’s directions and made my way through the desks to the back. It seemed several journalists had private offices, and Mike Curney was one of them.

I found his name and knocked on the door. Instead of saying “come in,” he got up and walked over to open the door himself. He must have heard from the receptionist.

“I never expected someone like you to visit in person. On behalf of the Old Empire Times… well, I’m not senior enough for that, but anyway, welcome to the Old Empire Times. But if you were coming, Olga would have been pleased to see you too, though she didn’t sound happy. What brings you here…?”

The name “Rose Leafman from Golden Age Press” carried weight here. He greeted me warmly, though he hadn’t heard my purpose yet. Now I had to say goodbye to this warmth.

I entered his office and stood in front of his desk. Since it was an orc-sized desk, it was more comfortable for me to stand than sit. I placed The Reveal’s article that I had brought from Philip’s house on the desk.

“I came because of this article. The exposé published by The Reveal. And because of this article that Old Empire Times supported.”

The orc journalist clicked his tongue, seeming to understand why the receptionist hadn’t sounded pleased. However, instead of growling, he sat in his chair and answered kindly.

“I knew The Reveal’s approach was quite wrong. It was clearly inappropriate. Spreading an address like that, as if encouraging anyone to go harass or harm them. But the targets were the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. According to The Reveal, they held quite an important position. They claimed to have seen their masks removed by angels in front of the police station on the day of the Followers’ march.”

I hated that lie as much as I hated the Forest’s Firstborn. Resisting the urge to immediately take out the visitor’s log from my bag and place it down, I listened to him finish.

“Although it violated journalistic ethics, I wanted to reassure our fellow citizens. I wanted to show that even though those guys wore masks, we would find them one by one. I wanted to say they couldn’t blend into our surroundings pretending to be ordinary elf neighbors. When I weighed it on my own scale, it seemed closer to the right thing. Do you think that was wrong?”

He wasn’t a bad journalist. He probably hadn’t written the article because of connections either. He likely scolded The Reveal before agreeing to publish a supporting article. My hatred subsided a little.

Bad things are always born as twins with good things. After taking a deep breath, I took out the visitor’s log I had brought from the veterans’ hall and placed it on his desk. I opened it to the date when the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn had marched.

“I respect your choice. We all have our own scales to weigh things. But… I simply cannot forgive The Reveal. Here it is, Philip Williams. He entered at 9:30 AM and left at 5:30 PM. There’s no way he could have been at the march in front of the police station.”

Hatred grew easily. It took root and branched out. Like my father, I at least knew how to prune those branches.

The Reveal’s lie was incredibly clumsy. They claimed to have seen angel police removing masks? That was absurd too, so I said, with a calm voice:

“And since I was there, I know. The journalists who were present took shelter inside the police station when the police clashed with the rioters, and instead of removing masks or anything like that, the angel police fired machine guns from the sky. Someone who wasn’t there claimed to have seen something that never happened to someone who wasn’t there.”

The orc was visibly flustered. “Just a moment,” he said, hastily picking up the phone and then putting it down. He seemed to have realized they wouldn’t know this elf’s name.

His gaze fell on me. It was a look that seemed to want to doubt my words. His expression suggested he wanted to question everything from whether this visitor’s log was real to whether the elf I met was truly the one who had been accused.

It was merely a defense mechanism. The nature of someone wanting to believe they weren’t wrong. He sighed as if trying to suppress his rising instincts. He took several deep breaths.

This was bad. It would be bad for him, bad for the Old Empire Times… the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn could make trouble. He knew that much.

People could willingly choose the bad option. Like taking bitter medicine now to cure a disease. But to do that, they needed assurance that the disease would be cured.

Now I had to persuade him. Since he was a thoughtful orc, instead of making empty promises, I told him only what I could do.

“That elf called me, so I went to see him. But the windows of his house were already broken by stones… and in front of it, an orc was shouting. Spewing hatred. I somehow managed to send him away before he could harm me too. This isn’t right. This is just like…”

I didn’t finish the sentence. But he heard what I was implying. The orc growled as if it was a terrible word and said, his speech loosening considerably from shock:

“Just like the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. Shouting that all orcs are the same, and now shouting that all elves are the same. I don’t know what to do about this.”

I needed to offer an alternative. This wasn’t this orc’s fault.

“Still, that elf was indeed a follower. He joined to build connections, then became disgusted with their activities and didn’t participate in any rallies or anything, until he decided to quit altogether that day. In our article, we’ll include his apology too. He’ll apologize for being a follower, even if not an extremely vicious one, and for dipping his toes in and standing by. This should be…”

He raised his head as if this was somewhat hopeful, but soon shook it weakly. A deep sigh escaped him.

“Publishing a correction and follow-up article isn’t that easy. The higher-ups will definitely dislike it. Our fellow citizens will dislike it too. But it’s something we must do. I’ll try to convince our newspaper somehow. Since we’re the largest newspaper in Old Empire, if we speak up first, other newspapers will follow. Do you have anything else prepared?”

This time, I had a countermeasure. Though The Reasonable Insight and Golden Age Press were small newspapers, we had a cause greater than ourselves. I had the emotional cause, and they had the rational one.

“Philip also asked The Reasonable Insight for help, and their journalist was there too. They said they would contact other newspapers, but I’m not sure how it will turn out. Still, no one moves assuming failure. And we have such clear evidence.”

I tapped the visitor’s log again. There could be no better evidence than this.

“I expect many people will take our side. A reasonable assumption, right?”

“The Reasonable Insight and The Reveal are from the same department. If they had come, I would have suspected they were trying to sink a competitor, but since you came, I can trust this. Others might think the same, but with evidence, many people will willingly be deceived into believing our intentions are pure.”

It seems the division of labor—me handling the visits and James making the calls—was a good arrangement. I clenched my fists in a sense of achievement.

The odds seemed as good as when facing the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. Things were connecting, creating a path. It was a good feeling. So I spoke with a cheerful voice:

“Don’t worry. We’re going to win. I’ll make sure we win by any means necessary.”

The orc shuddered as if getting chills down his spine after seeing my expression. What expression am I making? I raised my hand to my face, but of course, I couldn’t feel my expression.

“I heard you were the daughter of that old cult leader… seems it was true. This is exactly how I felt hiding behind windows, just hoping the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn would pass by. Huh.”

The parts of me that resemble my father are unavoidable. Even if all the blood I received from my father were drained from me, half of me would still be from him.

Still, my voice came out somewhat flustered. Not because I was told I resembled my father, but because I was embarrassed for startling him. I even waved my hands as I spoke.

“No, um, that… if The Reveal doesn’t use dirty methods, I won’t use dirty methods either! And… the dirty methods I know aren’t many anyway. You don’t need to worry about me! Probably…”

In truth, the only dirty method I knew was calling Husband Detective Agency, so it was the truth, but it probably didn’t sound like the truth.

There would be no need to call Husband Detective Agency this time. This matter shouldn’t end with The Reveal’s building catching fire or its editor-in-chief or editorial writer having a fatal fall from the first floor.

The orc journalist smiled at my flustered reaction. He easily realized that the traits resembling my father only emerged unintentionally.

“Who in the world says ‘you can trust me’ and then adds ‘probably’? Well… that actually makes you more trustworthy. Anything else to discuss?”

“I don’t think so for now. Ah, I’ll be visiting all four newspapers in Old Empire, so wish me luck!”

Visiting only the largest newspaper would also invite resentment. Plans always fail for similar reasons: minor mistakes, small strokes of bad luck, and clumsy, incomprehensible, emotional choices.

So I spent the entire day traveling throughout Old Empire. Receiving hateful glances, enduring disgusted looks… somehow speaking and persuading until evening. Fortunately, the results were good.

By the time I returned home, I was completely exhausted. At times like this, the fact that no one was home felt quite lonely, but I didn’t have time to dwell on loneliness.

After a simple meal of elf-specific canned food that hadn’t tasted as good since the company changed ownership about a month ago or a bit more, I immediately contacted James.

Being able to deliver good news was more joyful than the good news itself. After the connection tone rang exactly three times, he answered the phone as if measured with a ruler and poured out words:

“This is James Farmer from The Reasonable Insight. Where are you calling from?”

“Ah, it’s Rose Leafman, whom you met today. All the newspapers in Old Empire have agreed to publish supporting articles on our side. And I got the visitor’s log.”

He always seemed measured like a ruler, but he wasn’t a bad person. There was some warmth in his voice too.

Why are the days in a city with so many good people like this? Perhaps because even with many oarsmen, a boat still follows the will of the wind and sea.

“Good. I’ll contact Philip, so let’s meet at his house tomorrow morning. I hope your writing skills are as good as your persuasion skills, Ms. Leafman.”

Nevertheless, all an oarsman can do is row, hoping to change the current. Sometimes, the current really does change.