Ch.17Holiday (2)

I’ve had enough sleep.

Instead of resting my eyes beside Carisia, I decided to sit in a chair and organize my thoughts.

Her breath was as delicate as a thread. It was a pleasant sound, almost too good to be mere white noise for working.

“The directors.”

Until now, I hadn’t needed to worry much about the directors’ actions. I had already taken care of Kriton’s business that would have made Hydra Corporation a target for the protagonist’s group.

But with the establishment of the Sacred Investigation Office, a department I’d never heard of before, and me being its sole member and director, I needed to think differently.

‘How can I do less work?’

Ideally, the directors would mobilize their respective organizations to bring in items related to sacred objects, and I would just compile and report on them. That way, I could steal a salary without taking a single step outside the office.

‘But the question is whether I have the ability to investigate such items.’

Among the personnel Hydra Corporation can mobilize, Kaikel is probably the closest to sacred matters.

His experience researching ascension through two of the Ten Towers would be quite useful. But he’s one pillar of the Three Kingdoms play that will unfold in Etna City, so I can’t casually send him out.

Geryon is out for the same reason. Carisia?

If I asked the president, “Would you mind going on a business trip?” her response would be, “Hahaha, this one has gone mad.” I’d be better off running around myself.

With Carisia, just the two of us?

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea…”

Going on a business trip with your boss. Somewhat bearable.

Going on a business trip alone with your boss. Uncomfortable, but that’s work for you.

But what if that boss is the president?

‘That’s definitely a no.’

I cross out Carisia after Kaikel and Geryon. Bertrand isn’t suitable for these external trips.

Arabel is like a desktop computer that needs proper cooling facilities, not a portable laptop—difficult to charge in dangerous outside areas.

In the end, I’m left with some rather concerning individuals.

Drug dealers like Mekonion or mutants like Taros, who are treated as monsters, are difficult to show in public. That leaves three directors.

Divius, an expert in illegal body modifications, has somehow managed to escape to this neighborhood despite being wanted in various places.

He also provides aftercare for his “clients,” so he has some survival skills and information network. I’ll keep him on hold for now.

The hunter Noiro and the beast tamer Dimedes seem similar at first glance, but there’s a significant difference between them.

The beasts Dimedes raises feed on ordinary people. His specialty is hunting humans. Conversely, Noiro specializes in dealing with harmful wildlife—the image that typically comes to mind when thinking of “hunting.”

While he occasionally hunts humans with bounties on their heads, most of his prey are beasts mutated by extra-dimensional magical forces. Most hunters in the Etna City Hunting Association, which he represents, are the same.

A man who commands beasts that hunt humans versus a human who hunts beasts. The two were bound to be adversaries.

Considering social skills, Noiro would be most suitable for outside activities, but most people who possess sacred artifacts are likely human. In that case, Dimedes is also quite an attractive option.

‘Maybe I should think about it after getting some clues from Mekonion.’

According to Mekonion herself, some of her trading partners definitely mentioned vanished gods.

The question was whether they were truly followers of ancient doctrines who possessed sacred artifacts, or just drug addicts borrowing divine names.

For these trivial matters, I would have to check personally. Directly requesting cooperation from the directors without results would be a waste of time and manpower.

Today is a holiday, so Mekonion should be in her den.

I should go ask her directly. Mid-morning after sunrise would be an appropriate time.

Unlike Carisia, I’m a person with a sense of time.

After carefully folding the scribbled paper, there was nothing left to do. There were still about three hours until sunrise.

I might as well kill time by watching Carisia.

***

Mekonion took pride in her den filled with colorful mist.

The ability of a half-spirit with Alraune blood. Plants bloomed out of season and produced hybrid species not found in nature.

Strange hybrid plants where poppy sap flowed and coca tree leaves hung. Not just the narcotic components contained in plants, but rare magical herbs imbued with magical power.

The vapors from these well-refined plants, gently burned, turned into colorful mists that bestowed blissful hallucinations upon the den’s inhabitants.

A natural paradise steeped in happiness. Different from instant solutions like illusion magic or electronic drugs through neural jacks.

An ominous intruder had entered her paradise.

“Smells nice.”

“Want a puff?”

A flower attached to Mekonion’s green hair withered on its own. The flower’s stamen crumbled and its leaves rolled up, already resembling a complete cigarette.

A sweet yet dizzying fragrance lingered. This cigarette, made from a flower that bloomed from Mekonion’s body, was among the highest quality products she dealt in.

For humans without tolerance, it was a crystallization of pleasure that could cause unconsciousness just from inhaling its fragrance.

Ortes merely smiled calmly and waved his hand.

“No, thank you. I apologize for bothering you on a holiday, but I’m here on business.”

“Right. That’s the kind of person you are.”

A languid response. Mekonion reviewed the information she had purchased from Arabel.

‘Appears slick and flexible, but at heart is close to a fanatic who worships Carisia… was it?’

Having seen countless moths burning their lives away, Mekonion knew well that human belief could sometimes be more dangerous than pleasure.

The Alraunefin cigarette made from her flower was bait thrown to gauge this.

There were mainly three types of humans who wouldn’t be swayed by Alraunefin:

Terminal patients whose pleasure threshold was so damaged they couldn’t feel stimulation even from Alraunefin.

Powerful mages whose self-control over their bodies exceeded the flower’s temptation.

Lastly, those so deeply devoted to something that they considered pleasure trivial.

In simple terms, people whose minds were warped in some way.

Ortes was obviously not the first type of degenerate. She thought he might be the second type of mage, but if so, there should have been signs of expelling or purifying the toxins through breathing or purification magic.

The faint smile that hadn’t wavered once since entering suggested the third possibility.

There was no solution for that type. There was no way to shake blind loyalty to Carisia.

Target Carisia instead? Setting aside whether seducing Carisia was possible, the probability of getting her throat slit by Ortes on the way was extremely high.

‘Really. Really glad I didn’t fight.’

The number of addicts using Mekonion’s den was not small. There were also plenty of people who would risk their lives for just one Alraunefin she offered.

However, when Ortes and Carisia were turning Etna City upside down, Mekonion chose to lie flat and wait for the storm to pass rather than confront them.

She was lucky. Kriton’s organization and Dimedes’ beasts had rushed in before her.

Above all, seeing what happened to the Lernian Magic Tower, confrontation would have been the worst possible strategy.

“I don’t want to keep interrupting your holiday either. Would you provide me with information about the followers of the old gods?”

“I’ve been preparing it since hearing about it at yesterday’s meeting. Take it.”

Mekonion inwardly sighed with relief. Arabel’s information said his management style was identical to the president’s, so she had prepared just in case.

To think he would actually barge in on a holiday to demand information. Should she consider it merciful that he gave her one night?

“Oh. I thought it would take at least an hour or two. You work quickly.”

His praising manner, as if he knew nothing, was annoying.

‘Wait. Is this genuinely praise for my quick information gathering?’

Normally, this kind of transaction values client confidentiality like life itself. In that sense, Ortes’ attitude of “hand over the information obediently” since yesterday’s meeting was close to a threat.

‘Whether to resist or comply with that announcement-like decision. Was it some kind of loyalty test…!’

The praise just now was for choosing loyalty to Hydra Corporation over maintaining client trust.

Sensing she had just avoided a life-threatening situation, she casually waved her hand, feigning nonchalance.

It was a somewhat rude dismissal for the organization’s second-in-command.

However, Ortes simply bowed his head once and quietly disappeared.

Indeed, just as evaluated, he didn’t care about anything other than Carisia as long as work was completed on time.

As he quietly retreated from her deliberate rudeness intended to test his boundaries, Mekonion drank cold water to release her tension.

“Phew. Crazy about the boss…”

Mekonion hastily added more herbs to the incense burner.

Though the encounter was brief, the tension had been heavy. She would need to inhale the fragrance for a few hours to regain her peace of mind.

***

“…So. That’s why you left your room on a holiday?”

That was the first thing I heard when I returned home, impressed by Mekonion’s efficient work.

It was Carisia’s voice, still in my room.

“This morning, you said even the president should rest according to the Demon King’s will. Yet you—”

Come on, Carisia. What’s the problem this time? Somehow, her gaze filled with something like resentment feels prickly.

“I’m preparing for work that starts the day after tomorrow. I need to do at least minimal verification before giving tasks to the directors.”

Haa, Carisia sighed briefly and brought her face close to mine.

“It seems the one who needs to hear about resting is you, not me.”

I shrugged. She knows very well who’s keeping me from resting.

As I was scanning through the information on the USB, Carisia pulled up a chair and sat behind me.

“So, do they really seem to be believers in gods?”

“It appears so. The drug-smoking and people-ripping seems to be related to Bacchus.”

Bacchus. God of pleasure, revelry, and wine. Those suspected of being his followers were a traveling troupe that regularly visited Etna City.

Though called a troupe, they weren’t ordinary circus performers. They specialized in extreme and eccentric performances like illegal electronic drugs or android dismantling shows.

“Whether they’re proper priests or just amateurs who’ve picked up old myths, I’ll have to check in person.”

The interval at which they visit Etna City is once every two months. The next scheduled visit is…

Coincidentally, next week.