Ch.156Request Log #014 – How to Face Hatred (4)

“When exactly did you fire them? I just need to know if it was more than two weeks ago or after that.”

Teacher Lanshore had clearly said that around that time, he had refused a suggestion to move out and was assaulted because of it. I needed to figure out which was the real reason.

“Well, it was probably about a month ago… *sniff!* Anyway, it was definitely more than two weeks ago! *sniff!*”

So firing The Idealists was more likely the reason. After getting rid of The Idealists, they tried to remove the teacher who was the workers’ rallying point. But why did they clear out The Idealists in the first place?

Slowly, the path was becoming clearer. I never believed there was a job that could be handled by simply spending two weeks chatting with an elf in a hospital room, so I prepared for additional work.

“Alright. Keep your ears open. You’re making quite a nice side income from the information you sell me.”

At my mocking words, the kobold pulled out his whip. He had no intention of actually striking me, so he didn’t undo the fastening strap and just pretended to be furious.

“Five-dollar information, what side income are you talking about, *sniff!* Side income! If you were buying information that I have to make calls all over town for, *sniff!* and paying fifty or a hundred dollars, that would be different! *sniff!*”

I gave him a brief laugh, got just the factory address from him, and left the tobacco shop. I threw two cartons of cigarettes onto the passenger seat and headed to the address the kobold had given me.

I drove toward the factory district. It was one of the few streets in New York that knew nothing of glamour. I’d never personally visited the secret bars in the factory district since they sold dirty, cheap moonshine.

The road was fairly smooth, but there was a shallow ledge where it passed over the Industrial Spirit King’s body, making the car bump once. I just hoped the Industrial Spirit King wouldn’t wake up while I was on this road.

If that happened, he would use his magic to stop the car from rolling off, which would waste the time I’d worked to gain. And concrete would stick to the car’s wheels too.

Come to think of it, wasn’t it a textile factory last time too? It was the same when I hunted for The Idealists. Was there a connection? The address wasn’t familiar, and it was a different factory.

The workers’ quitting time had already passed, so there was no sign of life in the brick factory building, but one office window on the third floor was open. Judging by its location, it would be the factory owner’s office.

The factory district is truly standardized. Though the factories themselves might look different, the small alleys between them and the inexplicable acrid air filling them were the same everywhere. What kind of smoke was being produced? I couldn’t tell.

Now feeling a sense of déjà vu, I parked in front of the factory. I climbed up by grabbing the crevices in the brick wall. The sharp spikes at the top of the fence once again completely failed to serve their purpose.

From the top of the fence, I could vaguely see the third floor, but I couldn’t hear the voices inside. All I could see was the ceiling. I briefly took off my shoes, which had metal plates attached to the heels, held them in my hand, and jumped down lightly.

There was no sound. After putting my shoes back on, I grabbed the bricks of the factory’s outer wall. Unlike the previous factory which had been empty, this place had people working in it until this very evening.

The Industrial Spirits would also be awake or patrolling, so sneaking inside would be impossible. I climbed up by gripping the bricks of the factory’s outer wall.

Since I couldn’t hear any human voices from inside, it should be fine. Anyway, falling from three stories wouldn’t hurt me whether I landed head-first or not, so I had no sense of danger.

My wall-climbing skills are improving. If I’d known it would come to this, I should have become a phantom thief instead of a detective. I cleared my mind with this idle thought.

Since there were people in the building, I couldn’t jump up and grab hold. I honestly climbed up one brick at a time, then grabbed the third-floor window sill and hung there.

Though it was still bright because it was summer, the factory walls were tall, making it difficult for anyone to look up here. I quietly eavesdropped on the voices coming from inside.

“Still no reaction from those commie bastards? They’re not the type to do nothing after being kicked out of the factory where they work. Surely, surely they’ll do something, so why are they still quiet?”

They seemed to be talking about The Idealists. The voice was close to that of a human. It wasn’t thick or phlegmy like an orc’s, nor dull like an ogre’s.

Next came the factory owner’s voice. I hadn’t forgotten it after meeting him once. The factory owner mentioned an unexpected name.

“How many terminals do they have that they would react so easily to ten being expelled from working here, Goldstein? Wait a little longer.”

Goldstein. Perhaps… no, not perhaps. Among the four people I had helped hunt down while assisting The Idealists, one of the writers had the surname Goldstein.

I remember deceiving his father to find his location and turning him into a terminal. I recall him being full of vengeance, saying he would shoot everyone dead. It seems he’s finally prepared and started his activities.

As I continued listening while leaning against the wall, an enraged elderly voice came from inside the window. It was obvious what state a person would be in after having their expectations of a peaceful retirement betrayed.

“Wait longer? Wait longer? After my son was devoured by those commie bastards, how long have I already waited, and now you’re telling me to wait longer?”

The factory owner didn’t back down either. They clearly knew each other, but not closely enough to provide full support. I was figuring it out gradually.

“Stop acting crazy and wait longer like I said. Consider what risks I’ve taken for you. You said The Idealists would move if we touched Teacher Lanshore. Do they look like they’re moving now? Do they? If you’ve sharpened your knife for revenge, don’t draw it too easily, Goldstein.”

So they’re equals. Now I was certain that Teacher Lanshore hadn’t been the instigator. From inside the window came the sound of deep breathing, followed by sobbing.

I didn’t feel anything particular. A contract is a contract. If he hadn’t made a contract to give his soul to The Idealists in the first place, there would have been no tragedy. The person who makes a choice must bear responsibility for that choice.

I had never blamed others for my curse, so I had every right to say this. I didn’t even blame the Professor. The writer who made a contract with The Idealists simply faced the consequences of his actions.

After crying for quite some time, the old man finally collected himself and began to speak. His voice was trembling. Even his heartbeat was loud enough to be heard from here.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll have to move on my own now. If I smash one terminal after another, those Idealist bastards will take notice. I’ll find the location of the Hive Mind and kill them all. Those sons of bitches…”

The factory owner was trying to dissuade him. Perhaps to divert the old avenger’s attention somehow, he began to bring up my story.

“So what I did to Teacher Lanshore means nothing? That’s not right, man. Get a grip! And what can you do alone with that old body, huh? Ah, when I visited Teacher Lanshore today, there was a slick-looking operator who seemed capable. He even drew a gun inside the hospital…”

The voice that had seemed resigned suddenly ignited again. I had done something to earn his hatred too. The Hive Mind had consumed the soul, but I was the one who had prepared the writer for them.

“Was he human?”

The factory owner made an “ugh” sound as if a chill ran up his spine, then continued. I knew well the feeling of conversing with a half-crazed friend.

“Yes, he was human. What difference does that make? Your enemies are The Idealists, not humans. How far do you intend to extend your hatred? If you continue like this, I can’t help you anymore. I’m willing to help you avenge your son’s death. But beyond that, I have no intention of helping you target just anyone.”

They expelled all The Idealists from the factory. After assaulting Teacher Lanshore, who could communicate well with The Idealists, the factory owner showed his face as if he were the perpetrator. It was all bait.

First, they tried to lure them by firing The Idealists, and when that didn’t work, they even went after Teacher Lanshore… something that seemed to have little connection to The Idealists.

I couldn’t understand what they were trying to accomplish with this bait. Even if some terminals came here, they would just be terminals. Destroying terminals wouldn’t harm the Hive Mind at all.

It would only show that he was here… Perhaps the goal was to instill fear? That could be it. Judging by his question about whether the operator was human, I seemed to be on his target list too.

If I informed The Idealists that this old avenger was looking for them, they would try to hire me again. Then the old man could deal with his son’s two enemies at once.

So Teacher Lanshore really was caught up in this for no reason. The factory owner didn’t seem to know what kind of person Teacher Lanshore was and just acted first without thinking.

If left alone, this situation would spiral out of control. Hatred knows no reason. What mattered was who this old man blamed for his son’s death. I heard the sound of spitting.

“Then don’t help me, Wilfred. I’ll finish this my own way.”

He’s lost his reason. Since it seemed like he was about to leave, I quietly let go of the window sill and jumped down. Fortunately, there was a soft flower bed below that muffled the sound, so I didn’t need to take off my shoes.

That old man wouldn’t be able to find me. Still, it would be better to warn The Idealists. If they weren’t prepared in advance, the old man might kill quite a few terminals.

If more terminals died than they could bear, The Idealists would gladly sell my name. That would mean another gunfight. I didn’t want to leave my life to luck or momentary concentration.

I lightly jumped up, grabbed the high factory wall, and swung myself over. I landed in the alley between the factory buildings and got into my car. Yes, once again, I have to handle everything myself.

I needed to finish Teacher Lanshore’s case quickly to have time to deal with this. I got in the car and headed straight home. Damn, once I start working, I don’t even get a minute to rest.

As soon as I got home, I called the Pan-American Idealist Federation. I never understood why they used the word “federation” when they were all one entity. This time I didn’t even wait for a response before speaking.

“Put the Hive Mind on. This is Michael Husband from last time. You remember me, right?”

“Of course. You were an incomparable hunter. And thanks to the terminal you delivered to us, we have grown stronger. We are still grateful to you, detective. What’s the matter? Do you need our help?”

Both sides are equally detestable. Since this was the same Idealist who had asked the person who handled that job to help again in exchange for souls later, I retorted bluntly.

“I have no intention of selling my soul to buy help. I called to warn you. Do you remember that writer we caught last time?”

“We remember, detective. So you know his father has come to New York. Isn’t that right? We haven’t lost any terminals yet… We didn’t expect you to warn us. This is quite unexpected.”

No matter how much he hated The Idealists, he couldn’t walk from West Virginia to New York. He would have taken the train, and The Idealists had already taken over most jobs like train conductors.

It would be more natural for The Idealists to know about it. Yet I couldn’t understand why they weren’t taking action. If they knew, it would be better to handle it discreetly at night.

“I’m just telling you to be prepared because you’re the type to sell my name rather than lose terminals. So, do you have a way to deal with this?”

The voice of The Idealist, a mixture of countless voices, began to create an unpleasant resonance. Ah, damn. This time, they weren’t allies either. Everyone needed to be watched.

“Indeed, detective. This time, we’re thinking of getting help from the authorities. It seems he assaulted a labor activist to lure us out. If we ignore him a little longer, that old man will go there and threaten him to bring The Idealists. A half-insane human might even shoot him. Then all we need to do is report it.”

I sighed. Enemies everywhere, and even the person I’m supposed to protect through this job is about to cause problems. Again, I had many options.

First, I needed to find out Teacher Lanshore’s intentions. After that, I needed to stop The Idealists’ plan and then deal with the old avenger. Another approach would be… to do the first method really well.

Ah, I should have quit being a detective long ago and found a proper job. I wanted to deny that plausible statement that if someone came looking for the Husband Detective Agency, I’d live another day as a detective.

“It seems you don’t know that the noble labor activist has called an operator. Well, since all the terminals in that factory were fired, they couldn’t eavesdrop on what other workers were saying.”

All the voices of The Idealists turned hostile. It wasn’t overwhelming. Perhaps because they were inherently emotionless, even their hatred wasn’t deep.

“Is that operator you? If so, I should tell you to stop working. If he’s not simply arrested but shot dead in a hospital, people will care about his story.”

There was no reason to exchange pleasantries with The Idealists anymore. I mocked them again.

“Why, when you were devouring him, you called it a noble cause, but now it’s become something shameful? Just brazenly tell them to care all they want. It would have been better if you’d just asked me to handle it.”

That commie bastard set aside his hatred and set the mood. Perhaps trying to create an intimidating atmosphere, he directed voices full of determination at me.

“We are the ideal. We are communism. We have all become one as Idealists. The ideal must be noble. The ideal must be whole. The ideal…”

“It’s like sausage—once you know how it’s made, you don’t even want to put it in your mouth. Don’t try to deal with me by setting my house on fire or something. The Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn already did that once. Oh, was that too creative a request for you Idealists who’ve been castrated of creativity?”

I completely said goodbye to what could have been a simple job handled during a two-week vacation. When this is over, I should demand at least five hundred dollars in compensation, even taking Teacher Lanshore’s personal savings.