Ch.221Request Log #017 – Enemy, Slanderer, and Adversary (6)

The woman named Corin that Sarah had newly hired had quite decent cooking skills. Though unfamiliar compared to Sarah’s cooking, it was unfamiliarity in a good way.

After pushing the money the reporter owed onto the bar, I stood up and put on my hat. Before leaving, I gave one brief instruction. It felt unnecessary, but saying it made me feel better.

“Ask that half-ogre to lend you a bedroom until I call to say the job’s done. If you don’t return home, those things lurking around will start moving too.”

Without creating variables, things would just remain stagnant. Since it was the house of a lawyer I knew well, the reporter wouldn’t mind anyway. She still spoke with an energetic voice.

“Okay! I’ll be waiting for your call!”

First, I needed to reassess the movements of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn. I’d left them alone for too long after Charles Clichy died, thinking they weren’t worth my attention anymore.

Still, it shouldn’t take long. There was one fact I hadn’t forgotten: they were just thugs.

Despite wearing matching clothes and sharing pathetic goals, all they actually did was jostle to increase the size of their group, mistake the group’s size for their own importance, and cause trouble as they pleased.

It’s almost laughable to call them thugs. They had the habits of arthropods, perhaps even insects—damp and gloomy. Killing Charles Clichy was excellent pest control, but it wasn’t perfect.

No matter how many politicians and businessmen connected with them, most of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn were powerless, discontented lower-class elves.

There were places that frequently suffered from them. Alcohol is expensive. In the kinds of bars these lower classes frequented, one could only hope for decent liquor, or at least something that wouldn’t blind you or make you sick immediately. Even those places made good money. They couldn’t help but be discontented.

The important thing was that protecting even these cheap secret bars was the job of the real thugs backing them. I didn’t particularly want it, but I had many connections with thugs.

First, I needed to make some calls. Leaving the reporter behind, I returned home and picked up my office phone. I found the business card for Proci Construction Services and called Giuseppina Proci’s restaurant.

The dial tone rang. Not for long. I had the Godmother’s number too, but I wasn’t stupid enough to call her directly for something like this. The call connected quickly.

The voice answering had a deep undercurrent of respect, as this was originally used by higher-ranking trolls. It was just amusing.

“Yes, Trattoria Proci. How may I help you?”

From my experience, there were far more establishments managed by trolls than by fairies. With greater numbers came lower quality, and sending services to such places was part of Giuseppina’s branch operations.

It was laughable to talk about branches when they hadn’t even taken over all of New York. I might have stopped laughing if they’d at least united all the Italian mafia groups before talking.

“Nothing special. I just want to ask Giuseppina something again… and if our interests align, I might have something I can do for her. You know I’ve never caused her any losses by working with me.”

Well, there was one time, but that didn’t count. I did shoot and kill six of Giuseppina’s veterans, but that didn’t count. The Godmother had decided it never happened. Even remembering it would be insubordination.

“I’ll transfer you to the branch manager, please wait.”

For an organization the size of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, one direct attack wasn’t enough. To completely neutralize their influence, they needed to be ground down until they naturally faded away.

Soon I heard Giuseppina’s beast-like voice. I heard the distinctive growl of a female troll with one and a half times the size of an average female troll. I used the same title that the Godmother’s contractor had used last time.

“What is it, Leone?”

In the past, she would have followed this with unnecessary lamentations, spilling information whether I needed it or not, but time had taught even Giuseppina to watch her mouth.

“It’s absurd how you use the word ‘lion’ like it’s a slur. Anyway, how’s the management of the bars going? If there are organized troublemakers, I could lend a hand.”

A cackling sound came through the phone. After the hyena-like laughter continued for a moment, Giuseppina snapped:

“How long do you think those damn Follower bastards have been getting on our nerves? They’ve gotten worse since that Forest’s Firstborn bastard died. Your information is late, Leone.”

I responded to that with a leisurely sneer. I still couldn’t decide whether I should be displeased or pleased that Giuseppina and I communicated so well.

“I only started caring about them 30 minutes ago, Giuseppina. Don’t get clingy because I wasn’t paying attention to you. I wouldn’t turn down any woman who throws herself at me first, but beast heads are physiologically impossible.”

Sarah was the only exception. She maintained her human form for about two-thirds of the day, and even when not in human form, she still felt like the original Sarah, so I could treat her normally.

This time, instead of cackling, Giuseppina’s own laughter rang out. She always appreciated my jokes. After laughing briefly, she growled back:

“I’m amazed your head is still attached to your neck with that mouth of yours, Leone. So, what can you do for me?”

“I’ve already confirmed from what you said that they’re moving in an organized way, so I need to have a chat with the new Forest’s Firstborn lord. If things go well, I’ll send him back to Texas, and New York will be quiet again.”

Giuseppina growled low and quietly, as if she didn’t trust me. She knew well enough that this wasn’t my usual way of handling things.

“Don’t give me that tail-between-your-legs bullshit, Giuseppina. The job I was hired for was to threaten them into leaving. If that doesn’t work, you know what I’ll do.”

The Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn were better off gone. And people could die quite simply. I’d seen quite a few people die from falling from one-story buildings.

Still, that was a last resort. No matter how well I disguised it as an accident, the reporter would suspect me, and her suspicions would be correct. I’d never had the luck of someone conveniently dying exactly when and where I needed them to.

Giuseppina finally seemed satisfied. She cackled again.

“Well, that should be enough. I’d like to say I’m lucky to have you, but…”

After briefly choking and coughing as if she’d misspoken, Giuseppina changed her words. She seemed to remember that I, not she, was allowed to be disrespectful since I wasn’t part of the organization.

“No, I’m always lucky to have you. You show up where you’re needed, when you’re needed, and do what’s needed. Is that all you need confirmed? I can tell you which bars were attacked.”

Was that information necessary? No. I already knew the locations of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn branches in New York, and it hadn’t been difficult to infiltrate them last time to extract Inspector Leonard’s information.

It wasn’t information I particularly needed, and if I really wanted to gather intelligence, directly raiding the Followers’ headquarters would be better than listening to Giuseppina’s records.

What mattered wasn’t the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, but the son who had likely taken over as their leader.

“That won’t be necessary. I just called to confirm whether they’re acting up or not. I’ll handle the rest myself.”

I hung up without exchanging goodbyes. These thugs might be toxins and tumors from the city’s perspective, but they were at least useful for fighting poison with poison.

Having confirmed that the Followers were causing trouble, I needed to verify if Scott Clichy was behind it. He wasn’t a particularly intelligent elf. He was a brilliant agitator, but he didn’t know how to use that talent properly.

If he had quietly made advertisements at his father’s company, he would have received much more respect and admiration than he did as a Follower of the Forest’s Firstborn, but all he did was play dress-up in masks.

I had several employee identities at Clichy Corporation, but none of them were high-ranking enough to call the New York branch and ask if Scott Clichy was in New York.

Charles Clichy at least knew how to use his head. He gave me identities that were useful when needed but insufficient for gathering information, ensuring all work-related information had to pass through him.

Despite these precautions, once I, as the operations manager, started deceiving him, he had no way to respond… I doubted whether Scott Clichy could even manage that much.

After clearing my throat, I called the New York branch of Clichy Corporation. It had been over a month, so the receptionist wouldn’t remember my voice.

“Clichy Corporation, New York branch. How may I help you?”

I needed to sound a bit flustered. And speak as if it were an urgent matter… Yes, with a clear image in mind, I deliberately made a panicked sound.

“Ah, yes. This is Henry Davis from Inventory Management. It’s quite an urgent matter, so, um, I called from an outside line. Could you connect me to the head of Inventory Management? I can’t explain in detail, but…”

“Just a moment.” The connection was cut briefly before reconnecting. An elf’s irritable voice came through.

“What kind of sloppy, haphazard work are you doing? Hey, let’s hear what’s so urgent that you’re acting like this. Let’s hear it. What’s going on?”

I scanned the map of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn on my desk. While they generally kept their weapons and equipment in warehouses in the forest, they also had one in each urban district for emergencies.

The forest is the easiest place to hide trees. Among those hidden warehouses, I picked one located inside a Clichy Corporation warehouse and told him the name. The person on the other end flinched.

“I was told to check the inventory status, and in that warehouse I just mentioned, I found items that aren’t our company’s stock. There were lots of elf pistols and shotguns. We don’t do weapons business…”

The elf stuttered, “Ah, uh, um,” unable to continue beyond single syllables. If someone who discovered such things called the company, it would be an opportunity for him, but he was wasting that opportunity.

It didn’t matter. I just needed to extract the information I needed, even if I had to pick up the opportunity he dropped and force it into his mouth. I cleared my throat again and said:

“Did I, um, disturb a warehouse containing items for the Arch-Druid? If that’s the case, I’ll quietly close it and return!”

As soon as the word “Arch-Druid” came out, the person on the other end relaxed a bit. He sighed deeply and spoke in a mushy voice.

“What, you’re a fellow Follower? I thought… whew, I really thought I was screwed. It’s not for the Arch-Druid, but items the Forest’s Firstborn himself set aside for use, so just go back.”

A fellow Follower, he said. The head of Inventory Management at the New York branch of Clichy Corporation. I noted this in my notebook and casually continued. This was the information I wanted to extract.

“The Forest’s Firstborn? But the Forest’s Firstborn was betrayed by his own child and died…”

The Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn valued obedience over reason. It wasn’t unusual for a low-ranking member not to know who the new Forest’s Firstborn was.

For them, the Forest’s Firstborn was simply the Forest’s Firstborn. Regardless of who was behind the mask, as long as they could call down lightning and shout slogans that made them feel secure, that was enough.

“You really are at the bottom of the bottom, huh? After the first Forest’s Firstborn passed away, his second son took over. He’s, um, conducting social cleansing here and there to rebuild the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, which was devastated because of that traitor daughter. That’s what those are for. If you don’t have any more questions, just come back. Got it?”

So Scott was in New York. An organization’s security should be structured to cover the mistakes of its most stupid members. Otherwise, this is what happens.

Moreover, if they spilled everything just at the mention of “Arch-Druid,” simply handing over the Followers’ training manual I had to the press would surely create quite an entertaining situation.

Were they always this stupid? Well, I personally burned the fairly competent branch managers in one night. And the loyal ones who participated in rallies and marched in the streets were shot dead by angels. It was natural, if inevitable, that the quality of those remaining was the worst.

Besides, our Scott was trying to gather forces before even organizing the group. Did he think he could barely hold on just because he had the legitimacy of being Charles Clichy’s son?

It was a terribly stupid thought. Not because it would fail, but because it was a stupid choice to do such things in an organization where such haphazard logic worked.

I replied to the Follower who had given me all the information I needed, deliberately mixing enthusiasm into my voice. I could visit him after dealing with Scott Clichy.

“Ah, yes. I’ll return immediately!”

I hoped he would enjoy his sense of pride and relief. I hoped he would believe he was an excellent Follower who had skillfully resolved a situation that could have been disastrous if a non-Follower employee had gone there.

That way, after Scott fled back to Texas, he would feel a little anxiety, and I could enjoy seeing his face when that little anxiety became reality.

Scott Clichy was the priority now. All I had learned so far was that he was in New York and had become the new, inferior Forest’s Firstborn.

I had warned the reporter about the amount, so if I parked my car in front of the Followers’ building for about ten days, watching twelve hours a day, I could get a sense of his schedule.

Could there still be reporters surrounding the place? If so, the Followers would be on guard, and Scott Clichy wouldn’t visit the building directly.

No, that’s impossible. In a time when there were plenty of stories that would sell better than the apparently collapsed Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, reporters wouldn’t still be clinging to them.