Ch.313What if… Michael Husband, the Reporter?

“So, Miss Rose. Breaking news is certainly good, and an exclusive extra edition would be even better… but isn’t tomorrow morning too late? I mean, if we’re going to do it that way, it’s no different from the morning paper. Wouldn’t it be better to polish it up a bit more and publish it in the morning edition? It’s only 1 PM now, and you said you have all the materials, right?”

The editor’s uncertain words greeted the reporter who had just shared everything about her encounter with one of her police sources. He felt uneasy about something.

What was the reason? Surely this was news worthy of an extra edition, and it was definitely confidential information that only they knew… It must be because of the Mafia connection. The editor, being a veteran in the industry, feared them.

No, he didn’t fear them exactly. An ordinary person who didn’t drink alcohol would rarely have any dealings with the Mafia. The editor wasn’t afraid of them, but of their influence.

How many times had he seen journalists who spoke only the truth fade away, even if they were intoxicated by their own image of speaking the truth? He had even personally received a fish wrapped in a suit jacket.

He worried something might happen to this young reporter. Concern filled his voice. The truth doesn’t die, but people do.

“Still, if we do that, only our regular readers will see it. Surely distributing an extra edition would reach more people, and this is something that should be shared with as many people as possible. Right?”

The editor’s concerns only deepened. This was certainly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He should be jumping for joy like a child, embracing Rose who had extracted internal investigation information from the police. Yet, somehow, the uneasiness wouldn’t go away.

If this article was published properly, Golden Age Press could shape public opinion for at least a week. Print runs would increase, and more advertising and investment would come in.

If it succeeded, that is. Was it right to reject this opportunity or turn it into a smaller, safer chance just because of his own anxiety? The editor briefly removed the receiver from his ear and looked around the office.

The office was bustling with activity. Reporters finishing articles for the evening edition filled their seats, while morning edition reporters were out gathering news.

It seemed worth taking a gamble if it could give wings to the diligent efforts of all these good people. Rose had that lawyer Paulina with her, so things should work out.

The reporter knew the saying that a journalist who only looks at tomorrow as a stake loses today in hand, but the editor didn’t. Or perhaps he would have placed his bet on this game anyway. He nodded.

“Alright, let’s do it. But be careful about safety. Ears are everywhere, and someone might already know. Make sure to lock your windows, you understand?”

“No need to worry since I’m on the 11th floor! I’ll head to the printing house by 1:30. Can you review it there?”

“Yes, I’ll see you then. I hope nothing goes wrong…”

So instead of just swallowing his anxiety, the editor decided to call a number he rarely dialed. It belonged to someone who occasionally visited the editor’s office, dropped off photos, and left with money.

The editor’s hand dialed the unfamiliar number. The connection tone rang. After about seven rings, he was about to hang up, but just as he was lowering the receiver, he heard the connection go through.

The editor spoke first to the person on the other end. He was always an uncomfortable person to deal with. A young man with an unusually ominous aura.

The editor could confidently say he had met many people during his long career as a journalist, but he had never encountered someone like this.

“Hello, it’s me. The editor of Golden Age Press. Is that you, Michael?”

The man on the other end of the line seemed to lower his guard. Given the nature of his stories, he was naturally cautious.

“Yes, it is. What, do you have an assignment for me? I’m a freelancer anyway, and Golden Age Press has plenty of reporters without having to assign me.”

Quite prickly, isn’t he? The editor didn’t like that seemingly mocking attitude, but he had no one else to ask right now. He sighed deeply before making his request.

“It’s not an assignment. One of our reporters has taken on the kind of work you usually handle, and I’m worried about the situation. I was hoping you could help…”

“The kind of work I handle?”

Michael responded with quite a surprised tone. He seemed to suggest he didn’t know Golden Age Press had that kind of reporter. The editor agreed and explained the situation.

A rookie reporter named Rose had received information about the Mafia from her police contacts and was planning to expose them. Michael could understand this much. But what followed was strange.

The police had taken her to a hotel. And they had placed her on the 11th floor, which was difficult to escape from. Michael immediately smelled something suspicious.

“Give me the hotel room phone number. It seems one of the cops is a rat, and if she’s a rookie reporter, she probably believed everything and might mess things up. Did you hear which room number?”

“No, well, I didn’t hear which room. But I did ask for the number in case I needed to contact her again. Can you make sure nothing happens? You’re familiar with these kinds of situations.”

Michael on the other end of the line no longer showed a mocking attitude. The sound of a pen scratching on paper could be heard as he seemed to be writing down what he had heard.

“Familiar indeed. You want me to keep the woman alive and make sure the article gets published, right? The article will come out eventually. As it always does.”

It was something Michael always said. He was someone who said that and actually delivered articles. That’s why, even though he was just an occasional contributor who dropped off articles and left, the editor could trust Michael.

The editor felt somewhat relieved, but his mind wasn’t completely at ease yet. While Michael was certainly capable, he wasn’t some extraordinary person. He was just another journalist.

As soon as he hung up, Michael opened the closet in the back of his bedroom for the first time in a long while. It was a closet full of dusty items. He pulled out a dusty duffel bag.

These were things he hadn’t wanted to look at since returning from the Great War. They were traces of a past he had tried to ignore when he believed that pursuing the truth might bring him some salvation.

Such expectations were never fulfilled. Michael looked at the pile of photographs next to it. They were photos of himself. Though the clothes and poses were different in each photo, one thing remained the same.

His face never appeared properly in the photos. It was blurred and distorted, as if even the camera confused his face with someone else’s. He crumpled the pile of photos and opened the duffel bag.

Inside, he picked up a gun that was old but perfectly maintained. It was something he didn’t carry when doing journalist work. Now… this wouldn’t be journalist work.

He practiced drawing it with the magazine removed. It wasn’t as good as when he did it on the battlefield during the Great War. But it wasn’t bad either.

Only then did he reinsert the magazine, chamber one round, and push one more into the magazine, loading eight rounds. Eight rounds should be enough.

After these simple preparations, Michael called the number the editor had given him. The call connected shortly. The reporter was supposed to be an elf, but the voice on the other end of the line was an ogre.

“Ah, is this the editor? Rose was asking if she should contact you one more time. Just a moment…”

“I’m a freelance reporter from Golden Age Press. The editor gave me this number. Put your reporter on. If you’re the police officer in charge of security… stop this bullshit right now. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Paulina was a bit taken aback by the hostile voice coming through the phone. But it was also true that no one else would call this place except a reporter from Golden Age Press.

She tried to calm the person on the other end of the line. At this rate, they wouldn’t be able to have a proper conversation. She needed to let him know she wasn’t an enemy.

“I’m Paulina, the lawyer for Rose Leafman, a reporter from Golden Age Press. If you’re calling from Golden Age Press, what’s the matter? No, wait. I’ll put Rose on.”

Michael, sitting by the phone with a gun in one hand, tapped the floor with his toe, urging time to hurry. The typewriter sound next to him finally stopped, and the elf’s voice was heard.

“Hello! This is Rose Leafman, reporter from Golden Age Press—”

“Answer with yes or no. Is the police officer who suggested you go to that hotel instead of home with you right now?”

What a rude person in the world! Rose was about to complain about him cutting off even her greeting, but his urgent tone made her answer properly.

“No. He said he would patrol the hotel. Paulina said you called from Golden Age Press. Are you someone the editor called? I told him there was nothing to worry about…”

A woman with nothing but flowers in her head. Michael had only exchanged two sentences, but he could already get a sense of who this Rose Leafman was. He sighed before continuing.

“Pack your things now. If the police were going to protect a reporter, they would have taken her to the reporter’s home that only the reporter herself would know, not a hotel! The bastard who suggested going there is probably a rat for the Mafia, and asking you to wait until tomorrow morning means someone is scheduled to come tonight. So, pack your things. Get ready to leave.”

Rose was a bit startled by his words. She shook her head, forgetting she was still on the phone.

“No, that’s not right! Inspector Leonard assured me that his investigation team only has clean people…”

“I don’t know this Leonard or whoever. I have no personal connections, so I see the situation clearly. It’s not hard for a dirty cop to pretend to be clean. It’s even easier for the Noll Mafia to use human collaborators.”

His words dripped with a kind of malice and anger. He was someone Rose would never encounter in her world. She answered with a bit of fear.

“But Inspector Leonard—”

“Don’t ask if you want to talk to him before leaving. Please. It’s frustrating. He’s probably the superior, so he’ll send you to that hotel and then ask the guy patrolling the hotel what’s happening to you. What do you think the informant will say? Just quietly pack your things now. Tell your lawyer to keep making typewriter noises. I’ll be right there, so wait.”

“Yes, yes! I understand! Is it really a dangerous situation…?”

Michael didn’t even bother to answer that question and hung up. He immediately grabbed his gun, put on a suitable vest over his white shirt, threw on an overcoat, and left the house. After nervously closing the door, he headed to the parking lot.

It didn’t take long to drive to the Divine State Hotel. However, looking at the Divine State Hotel’s parking lot from behind, there were quite a few similar-looking cars parked there.

I hope I’m not too late. Michael quickly got out of the car and rushed into the hotel. Two female Nolls were already standing near the elevator, looking around.

The Nolls also had a restaurant on Fifth Avenue. If they came directly from there, they would have arrived before him. This was something he hadn’t considered.

Michael quickly turned around and went to the stairs. He peeked through the handrails to make sure no one was waiting on the upper floors, then hurriedly began climbing the stairs.

The guy might not have been nearby as she said, but if he had been staying in the next room or somewhere else, he might have heard the conversation and reported to the Nolls he was collaborating with. That was probably what happened.

So… getting to the 11th floor would be a challenge. A normal reporter wouldn’t want to go to such a place, but Michael ran without any hesitation. He pushed open the door from the stairwell to the 11th floor.

When the door was half open, the other half opened smoothly on its own. Someone had opened it for him. In front of him stood a female Noll who was half a person taller than the average female Noll.

She grinned at Michael. Thinking he was an ordinary reporter, she made the cackling sound that Nolls typically make and looked at him.

“So Golden Age Press has someone quite useful. How good is your intuition? The Matriarch will be disappointed. A single male human has just overturned the Matriarch’s trump card. Oh, don’t think I’m revealing secrets too easily. Telling secrets to a corpse isn’t such a bad thing. There’s no one here to eavesdrop.”

“Corpse?”

Michael sneered. Giuseppina couldn’t smell the foul curse emanating from him, but she could feel his fierce killing intent and an inexplicable ominous sensation.

But she wasn’t one to be intimidated. Six female Nolls surrounded the area, filling the hotel corridor, so there was no need to be afraid.

At that moment, gunshots rang out from a hotel room far away. Six shots in succession. But it didn’t seem like anyone was hit. It was the sound of bullets ricocheting off something metallic.

The reporter who had spoken with Michael had clearly said she had a lawyer with her. It seemed the lawyer was good enough to have a mythril steel shield.

Giuseppina, who had been waiting for the gunshots to end, burst into laughter and lightly pushed Michael’s shoulder. She answered with a grin.

“Yes, a corpse. If you’re not a corpse, why would you ask ‘Corpse?’ so surprisingly? Hmm?”

However, something unexpected happened to Giuseppina. Michael reached out and grabbed her wrist. A male human’s grip strength would normally be no match for Giuseppina, but… he was different.

She couldn’t pull her wrist away. In fact, when he pulled, her body was dragged toward him. She tried to draw her gun, but it was quite difficult with her non-dominant hand.

Moreover, the corridor was too narrow for Giuseppina’s subordinate Nolls to draw their guns and shoot. This was because Giuseppina was so large that she almost blocked the entire corridor.

Giuseppina was at least smart enough to think. She immediately opened her mouth to bite the male human’s neck, but he lightly struck her jaw with his free hand.

He must have struck lightly. But Giuseppina felt as if her lower jaw was forcibly closed, shaking her teeth and entire head. It felt like her consciousness was cut off for a moment and then reconnected.

Michael released Giuseppina’s wrist and stepped in. To prevent her subordinates from shooting, he hid in her embrace and drove his fist into her chest with double strength.

Only then did Michael sneer at Giuseppina. It was better to sneer after the situation was certain.

“I prefer to be called an investigative journalist rather than a corpse. When something stinks this badly somewhere…”

Michael stepped further into Giuseppina, who was curling forward due to inability to breathe. He grabbed her by the neck and pushed her into her bewildered subordinates.

In the gap, Michael pulled out brass knuckles from his pocket and rushed at Giuseppina, who had fallen backward. He raised his fist with the brass knuckles high, intending to smash her blunt snout.

He struck down repeatedly in what was close to a fit of rage. The Noll’s face, struck with double strength, quickly became a mess. Michael made a growling sound.

“It means I’ll dig until evidence comes out, and when something finally emerges, I expose it. But that’s not all I do.”

Giuseppina, who had been moaning with her mouth half-open, felt her mouth opening against her will. Michael was holding her lower and upper jaw with both hands.

She probably didn’t hear the sound of her jaw breaking and piercing her neck vertebrae. If she had, it would have been a terrible thing.

She would never be able to close her mouth again for the rest of her life, but since the word “lifetime” ended at that moment, she would have no complaints.

Michael shook off the sticky Noll blood from his hands. The other Noll members, having seen their leader die, were completely panicked.

They couldn’t even think of drawing their guns, and those who tried had hands trembling so much they could barely pull them out. Michael stepped over the corpse and approached the next Noll.

Although Giuseppina, whom he had been talking to, was dead, he didn’t stop speaking. He struck with such force that the skin on the back of his hand, armed with double vitality, was scraped. He pushed the Noll against the wall, hammering it in as if nailing it.

“Sometimes, there are those who aren’t satisfied with being exposed in articles. You know why. Those who send people at night, or send organization members during the day.”

A deep dent formed in the hotel wall, and one Noll’s head sagged slightly into it. Michael now picked up a fire extinguisher in front of him and walked toward the next Noll.

“Those who want to be villains in stories and believe they can live doing this kind of thing forever. I can’t print lies in the paper. Not saying what needs to be said is also a lie.”

He seemed to catch his breath a bit before striking the head of a Noll who was desperately trying to protect its head with the handle of the fire extinguisher. He watched as it collapsed, making whimpering sounds like a dog.

“That’s! Fucking! The rule! What happens to someone who breaks the rules in a gambling den run by Nolls? They cut off your wrist. Same with me. You reached out to that flower-headed reporter girl…”

For the first three times, there was the sound of striking the Nolls’ fur, but from the fourth time Michael brought down the heavy fire extinguisher on a Noll’s head, it sounded like mincing meat.

“So I’m cutting off your wrist. That’s a journalist’s duty. Don’t try to escape the frame. You broke the rules and tried to cover it up with force. Then… it’s only right that you’re pulled back into the frame by force.”

The Nolls screamed. Even their screams were trapped in the frame. Even the blood they shed couldn’t escape the frame. Gunshots rang like shutter sounds.

The article would eventually be published. As always, it would appear on the front page of the morning newspaper, revealing all the facts.