Ch.155Request Log #014 – How to Face Hatred (3)

I finished my shift by making a call to the client on behalf of Mr. Lanshore. Guarding someone was generally like this unless there was an urgent situation like with the journalist.

There was much to investigate. Who the factory owner was, what kind of person he might be… It would be wise to know his schedule too, just in case. I hoped I wouldn’t need to pay him a visit.

I needed to learn more about Mr. Lanshore. Not to determine whether he was an agitator or not—that truth wouldn’t affect my job either way. What I needed to investigate were the suspicious aspects.

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly what. I recognized the final part of the God-President’s scripture verse that he had recited to Ken. It was the same passage I would recite while smashing ritualists to the ground.

So I needed to find out if Mr. Lanshore was thinking along similar lines. While I was happy to serve as a bodyguard, I had no desire to become an accomplice.

I spent the afternoon making small talk. Mr. Lanshore had mentioned that the hospital food was seasoned just right for elves like him, which only made me think that life must be a continuous torment for elves.

An hour after finishing our meal, around two o’clock, the doctor came in. He administered painkillers to Mr. Lanshore, who was trembling as if the slightest movement caused unbearable pain.

The elven body must be sensitive to medication, as Mr. Lanshore quickly fell asleep. It didn’t appear that he had been given anything other than painkillers.

I’d been told he was Mr. Lanshore’s close friend, but these days, not many people would resist the temptation of trading friendship for cash.

He was an orc doctor. His skin, which should have been a glossy ochre, was almost gray and rough like the sole of a shoe. His body beneath the white coat was unusually thin for an orc, giving the impression of someone who had endured many hardships.

After Mr. Lanshore fell asleep, the orc cleared his throat a couple of times to get my attention. He gestured for me to step outside. Even asleep, an elf’s senses were still an elf’s senses. I nodded in agreement.

What could it be this time? Following him outside the room, the orc finally spoke.

“So, you were hired by Mike’s followers, right? I saw Ken visiting here.”

So his nickname was Mike. Another difference. I didn’t know why he was asking, but it didn’t feel like he was stalling. Besides, the only door back to the room was behind me.

“That’s right. Originally they wanted me to find the culprit, but they really just needed someone to confirm what everyone already knew. So instead, I took on bodyguard duty. Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

The orc hesitated. He remained silent even after the passing nurses and patients had disappeared, then finally began to speak.

“Did Mike cause trouble again this time? I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him so I can’t be sure… but there was an unfortunate incident once before.”

Evidence rolling in on its own. I was dying for a cigarette, but leaving this doorway wasn’t part of a detective’s responsibility. I gave him a puzzled look.

“I heard the factory owner was the one who started the trouble, but you’re saying he’s caused incidents before? Has something like this happened previously?”

The orc nodded. His expression wasn’t bright, as if he felt he was exposing a friend’s shame. Still, he seemed determined to speak.

“Not recently—this was back in college. He nearly burned someone to death. Have you heard that he’s a doctor of mana mechanics?”

“When you’re stuck together with nothing to do, you end up talking about all sorts of useless things. Please tell me more details.”

Elves who studied electrical magic all had something unpleasant about them. I clicked my tongue once. Mr. Lanshore wasn’t from the Gremory department either. Was Charles Clichy’s ghost still walking the streets of New York?

“To study mana mechanics at a research level, being an ordinary magician isn’t enough. Despite his appearance, Mike is quite a capable magician. I’ve seen him gather all his mana to call down lightning from a clear sky. Though he spent nearly a month in the hospital after striking too close to avoid the induced current.”

Looking at it that way, Charles Clichy was indeed a genius. That old man would call down five or six lightning bolts as if it were nothing. I don’t even want to imagine what he could have done if he’d started learning from a young age.

A magician’s prime wasn’t much different from the prime of youth. Mr. Lanshore’s magic would be weaker now than in his younger days. I didn’t need to worry about him calling down lightning.

“Ah, I’m getting off track. Anyway, we had this troublemaker among our classmates. He was from a family close to the university, so he got in without any real process. All he ever did was chase women and cause trouble. You know the type—they’re common enough.”

“You’re speaking as if I should know, but I don’t, so please continue.”

The only school I’d attended was the one I went to until I was fourteen. The teacher seemed decent enough, but the facilities were terribly poor.

The school library was just a wooden box with a label on it. Though my past is hazy, I remember what books were in that box. There were four copies of Moby Dick.

I remember being told until my ears wore out that this one book could teach me more than the teacher could. I don’t remember the content of the book. I probably never read it properly.

The orc became flustered and cleared his throat again. I may not have spent much time at a desk, but I certainly learned how to get by in life.

“Ah, yes… yes. Anyway, everyone disliked that guy. Mike, who was a good person even back then, disliked him more than most. Then one day, something different happened. The girl that guy always kept around came out of the dormitory crying with a bruise around her eye. I thought he’d finally done it… and then Mike rushed into that guy’s room.”

This must have been before the Great War, when Mr. Lanshore and this orc were in college. Back when people still believed in chivalry and aristocratic values. From a gentleman’s perspective at that time, it would have been intolerable.

“I followed, worried about what might happen, and smelled ozone. When I caught that scent, I ran. You know how it is when someone who never gets angry finally loses their temper…”

“It doesn’t end with just a broken plate or two. What exactly happened?”

I could understand why the orc was telling me this. It seemed Mr. Lanshore had at least one genuine friend who cared about him.

“That guy was holding a gun to Mike’s head. But guns are metal, right? Mike used magic to convert mana into electricity. The guy was trembling like he was being electrocuted while still holding the gun.”

If he had just subdued him and let go, he wouldn’t be speaking in this tone. He would have told it excitedly, like a heroic tale.

“So I suggested we properly report it or do something… but the smell of ozone got stronger. The disgusting smell of burning flesh started too. It looked like he was trying to burn him to death by continuing to run current through him, so we barely managed to pull him away. I’m wondering if he’s caused another incident like that and become a target.”

I could understand why he hated violence. Someone who had done such a thing in the heat of the moment wouldn’t want to experience it again.

Ironically, when faced with a similar situation, such people often repeated the same actions. I needed to consider this. It was possible that Mr. Lanshore had been the instigator.

I felt I understood him a bit better now. He hated injustice. Yet he didn’t know how to express that hatred, so he would hold it in as long as possible until it exploded all at once.

This clarified why he burst out laughing when I openly mocked and threatened the factory owner, and why he immediately hid his expression as if embarrassed by his laughter. However, I still couldn’t determine his intentions.

Now all I needed was information. I reassured the orc who had provided it with empty words.

“There were some things I didn’t understand until now, but your explanation helps. I don’t think that’s the case here. Now I understand why Mr. Lanshore insisted he had no intention of confronting the factory owner and just needed protection… So obviously the factory owner must have been the aggressor.”

That was enough to reassure him. The exhausted-looking orc doctor smiled, so it seemed to have worked.

“Ah, that’s a relief. Mike isn’t a bad person. How often do you see someone with a doctoral degree leading others in the slums? It’s just that he tends to explode after holding things in, so please keep an eye on him. If you help him out, I might be able to throw in a bottle of something hard to come by these days. Medical use is legal, you know.”

I had enough whiskey to fill a secret drawer, but another bottle of liquor wouldn’t hurt. At the very least, it would help me sleep for one night.

“Usually I decline when payment comes in two parts, as it rarely leads to anything good… but if you’re offering a gift as a token of appreciation to the detective handling your friend’s case, I have no reason to refuse.”

I could probably make a living just accepting bribes. We exchanged brief greetings, and I returned to the room where Mr. Lanshore was sleeping. He was out cold from the painkillers and sedatives, so there was no need for tedious conversation.

After waiting several more hours, my client, fresh from the factory, came by with an awkwardly friendly greeting, saying he would stay with Mr. Lanshore for the night and that I should return in the morning. It felt strange.

I’m not used to being treated this way. It had been so long since I’d heard such a kind voice that it felt awkward. It was like working alongside a journalist.

Still, my job remained the same. It would have been better if I could have questioned the client, but since he had come alone to guard the place today, that wasn’t possible.

Before leaving, I slipped my holster into my pocket and spoke to the client who had come without a gun. It didn’t matter if Mr. Lanshore heard, so I spoke inside the hospital room.

“From tomorrow, when you come in the evening, it would be better to bring someone reliable with you. Something might happen to Ken, or I might need to leave the room urgently, and someone will need to be here. This is a hospital, and this floor has private rooms for wealthy patients, so it should be safe… but we should prepare for contingencies.”

Mr. Lanshore didn’t seem to doubt my words. It made sense that if there was one professional during the day, there should be two or three ordinary people at night.

“Oh, yes! From tomorrow, I’ll ask some colleagues to come and stay together. As expected, professionals are different, right?”

I walked out without waiting for his goodbye. Today I needed to visit the kobold at the tobacco shop. His information was cheap, and while he didn’t know much in depth, he knew a lot broadly.

There was no better informant for leads. Besides, my house had burned down, and I’d run out of the several cartons of cigarettes I’d stockpiled. I could work without alcohol, but not without cigarettes.

Once again, I headed toward the foul-smelling slum. Outside the car window, the city’s shabby appearance was still visible. It was a city that shone at night but revealed its bare face in the evening.

Well, at least there was one difference today. A pseudo-doomsday prophet holding a sign declaring the end was near stood on the street shouting something.

As if believing himself to be an Industrial Spirit, he wore differently sized industrial gears as necklaces, bracelets, and anklets all over his body.

“The end is coming, everyone! Everything will collapse! The King of Industrial Spirits has prophesied! That Thursday will be as dark as blackness, and ten years of darkness will envelop this country afterward! The end…”

So the King of Industrial Spirits can now read the future too. I had briefly seen him complaining about aching joints before, but he didn’t look like he was facing the end of the world.

I paid little attention and started the car. I reached the slum where the foul air seeping through the car window nearly made me cough. The tobacco shop was still a tobacco shop.

When I pushed open the door, this time instead of the kobold, an employee manning the counter nodded in greeting and immediately headed for the upper floor. I stopped him briefly.

“No, no. This time I need to use the shop too. Give me two cartons of the green pack and get the boss.”

Back in the trenches, cigarettes came with tales that smoking would kill you, but since there was nothing else to smoke in there, after returning from France, I’d stuck to those cigarettes.

The young human employee took out two cartons of cigarettes, placed them on the counter, and went upstairs to call the kobold. His swaggering gait hadn’t changed, and he still didn’t spend money on clothes, as his outfit was the same as last time.

“Sniff! Husband, you’re here? What information… sniff! do you need this time? Money first, sniff!”

The slum’s stench must have been fresh air that this kobold found difficult to breathe, as he kept sniffing. I took out a $5 bill from my pocket and handed it to him.

“Are there many factory owners named Wilfred in New York?”

The kobold fiddled with the whip handle at his waist and shook his head.

“No, sniff! Just one, sniff! You’re talking about the human who runs the textile factory, right? That, tall as a pole with a square face. Sniff!”

It was surprising how quickly this kobold spat out useful information. Last time he couldn’t even properly remember the Rat-Catcher’s face, yet he knew this businessman well.

“That sounds about right. Though to kobolds, everyone except elves and dwarves probably looks tall as a pole. So, any useful information?”

“Sniff! Don’t know much else, but I heard he fired all The Idealists recently! Sniff, that’s all!”

What an excellent businessman. I didn’t think there was anything more to learn here. But I’d gotten two cartons of cigarettes, so I couldn’t ask for more.