Ch.34First Entanglement – The Traitor and Blues (3)

The detective asked nothing, and the reporter answered nothing. But the detective knew where to find what he needed to take, and the reporter knew why he had come.

Is it better to have a hostage? A hostage only has meaning if someone wants them to stay alive. In this place, the only person who cared whether the reporter lived was her lawyer.

The detective grabbed the reporter’s neck with inhuman strength. Their eyes met. The lawyer had said she would step out for a moment, so if he used his gun, she would come running. Better to avoid unnecessary trouble.

The reporter tried to make a sound, raising her hand, but the arm not holding her neck easily caught her wrist, preventing her from gathering mana at her fingertips to release it.

“Keck, nngh… Pol, lina…”

Her voice was so faint that even the detective could barely hear it. Rose knew somehow that Paulina would realize she was in danger and come to help, but this time it seemed she would be too late.

No sound would come out. She tried to scratch him with her nails, but the detective’s abnormally tough skin wouldn’t even show a proper scratch.

Her struggles only made her sway like a potted plant. A plant’s movement could never break its pot. The difference in their strength was that significant.

Was there no way out? As her consciousness began to fade, the reporter remembered the camera hanging around her neck.

The detective was ignoring her meaningless resistance anyway, so pretending to reach for his wrist, she placed her hand on the camera. With her last breath and final mana, she infused it into the flash.

The mana flowed into the magnesium in the flash bulb. It was similar to a normal flash, but the mana-amplified explosive power was like a flash grenade. A deafening sound and blinding light erupted, reaching even the corridor.

The elf’s sensitive senses screamed in pain, but the detective’s grip also loosened. Escape might be impossible, but she could at least buy some time.

And the reporter knew very well that buying time was all she needed to do. Hearing the sudden explosion, Paulina in the corridor kicked open the door and rushed into the room.

Though she couldn’t see and an unpleasant ringing filled her ears, the reporter knew Paulina had enough time to enter. So she shouted:

“Paulina! There’s one person with a gun, and judging by the silencer…”

“A professional. I’ll begin physical argumentation. Stay where you are!”

The detective’s abnormal vitality allowed him to recover from the flash twice as fast. This wasn’t what he wanted. All he had done was love life.

Since the lawyer had already entered, there was nothing to hide. The detective immediately drew his gun from his coat. He aimed not at the lawyer who had kicked in the door, but at the reporter crawling on the floor, apparently unable to see.

However, the lawyer was faster at diving in to shield the reporter with her body and shield than the detective was at drawing his gun and pulling the trigger without hesitation.

The detective didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, but the bullet couldn’t penetrate the lawyer’s shield made of bluish mythril steel.

As ridiculous as a lawyer carrying a shield might seem, that alloy shield blocked bullets better than the steel body armor the detective had worn in the trenches.

Blocking a bullet at such close range was impressive, but it would only stop one shot. Once multiple bullets hit the same spot, even that shield wouldn’t hold.

The detective pulled the trigger again. With barely a sound thanks to the silencer, this shot left a dent in the shield that had so steadily blocked the first bullet.

The shield continued to protect its owner through all eight shots—seven in the magazine plus one in the chamber—but with the final shot, a bullet struck the heavily dented area. A crack formed in the shield.

That shield would no longer properly stop bullets. The lawyer, who had been standing with her back to the wall where ricocheting bullets had embedded themselves, rose, still covering herself with what remained of the shield.

This was wiser than continuing to hide behind an already penetrated shield. A lawyer like her would likely be wearing a suit lined with the same mythril steel chain mail.

Having apparently counted the bullets that had hit the shield, the lawyer immediately charged forward. Reloading would have been preferable, but there was a human with ogre-like strength charging right at him.

He tossed the gun aside. After grabbing the shield of the charging lawyer who was rushing forward with her shield up, he twisted her trajectory and threw her aside, then immediately ran toward the chair. He snatched up the bag containing the documents.

The bag was more important than fighting the lawyer here. The lawyer, whose charging path had been twisted, stumbled and threw aside her shield, then kicked the gun the detective had tossed away in the opposite direction.

“You wouldn’t leave your gun behind and flee. It would have been wiser not to come at all.”

“Only the God-President himself could identify the gun’s owner, so isn’t that an empty threat?”

It was just a common M1911 pistol that any adult American could own. He had worn gloves when firing, so no fingerprints would remain. He didn’t have a habit of engraving anything on his guns either.

“Someone who came to quietly handle business by threatening my client while I was briefly away wouldn’t leave things to chance.”

The lawyer understood the detective’s intentions to some extent. He wouldn’t know the condition of the photos. He had come looking for them after hearing they were taken, not knowing they were barely recognizable.

A meticulous person who came all this way and sneaked in during her absence wouldn’t leave his gun behind.

And above all… she had felt something when the detective grabbed her shield and twisted her trajectory. She felt strength equivalent to two normal humans working in perfect unison.

With that kind of power, he wouldn’t hesitate to fight an ogre hybrid. The detective was likely planning to subdue her, then take the bag and gun before leaving.

The lawyer’s prediction was perfectly accurate. The detective wasn’t afraid of the ogre hybrid lawyer. Yes, it was better to clean up thoroughly, even with a gun that left no clues.

But he wasn’t about to start a fistfight right away.

“You’re getting on my nerves. Are you planning to somehow subdue me in hand-to-hand combat?”

“A man with enough strength to grab and throw aside a charging ogre hybrid wouldn’t choose otherwise, would he?”

They were equals. Two people who thought the same way, handled matters the same way, and lived the same way. The detective let out a small laugh.

“A lawyer’s purpose is to protect their client. Despite firing eight shots, your client is fine except for groping around because she can’t see. Haven’t you done your job?”

The reporter was trembling, pressed tightly against the corner of the wall closer to the lawyer than the detective. She was indeed incompetent and airheaded, but she was extremely irritating.

“Surely you don’t really think that’s where a lawyer’s job ends.”

“Of course not. But think about it. Now I’ll go after the reporter, not you, and I’ll snap that elf’s neck whether you grab me or whatever. This time, I won’t let go because of a flash. Or, you could pick up that gun over there and hand it to me. Then I’ll just take the bag and leave without a word. My only goal is that bag.”

It was a reasonable offer. If the lawyer recognized his abilities, she wouldn’t gamble with her client’s life. A lawyer’s primary duty is to protect their client.

To add credibility to the deal, the detective took out three spare magazines from his coat and scattered them on the hotel floor. He casually turned in a circle to show he had no more hidden magazines.

The reporter, whose neck was already showing bluish bruises in the shape of the detective’s grip, pressed herself further into the corner of the room. The lawyer knew this situation was unfavorable to her.

Elves have fragile bodies. If the detective was determined to kill, she wasn’t sure she could protect Rose. In this situation, the detective had offered her an escape route.

Lawyers don’t gamble—unless they can sue the casino owner. In the end, Paulina decided to protect Rose. That was her job.

“You really are someone who only cares about finishing things quietly.”

“If I’d been paid, there wouldn’t be any deal. This is overtime work. Who would put in effort for overtime without extra pay?”

Paulina removed her suit jacket in return, showing she had no other weapons. She quietly approached the gun she had kicked away and picked it up.

Rose’s trembling hands were still holding the camera, but the internal components had been completely destroyed when she exploded the flash bulb with mana. The detective’s face would remain only in her memory.

The reporter found this unfair. It seemed like the villain’s victory. She, who had unquestioningly believed in the triumph of good over evil, muttered toward the detective:

“Despicable human…”

The detective didn’t particularly care. This deal was quite comfortable for him, too good to break over such words. At least he didn’t have to fight until the hotel furnishings were destroyed.

“Both the lawyer and I are just contract workers. We’re just doing our jobs. You call me despicable, yet you’re gritting your teeth and spitting such words after your life was saved? If you want to judge this contract worker, hire me and give me a job first. Don’t spout nonsense after your life’s been saved.”

The detective’s sharp voice irritated the lawyer as well, but she didn’t want to gamble with her client’s life because of his outburst. She had to protect Rose. That was all.

“Paulina is not a contract worker! She’s my…”

The lawyer approached and handed the gun to the detective. He very politely accepted it, even giving a slight nod of his head, then sneered at the reporter who was about to say something cliché.

“Right, I don’t know how many monthly installments, but she’s a friend you bought yourself. Isn’t that so?”

The detective didn’t dislike people who believed friendship could be bought with money, simply because such people easily became regular clients.

The detective briefly checked the contents of the bag. The police case files were there, and generally all the necessary documents were inside. Most importantly, the photo of himself taken in front of the gnoll restaurant was there too.

If the photo had been this blurry, he wouldn’t have done this unscheduled overtime work. He clicked his tongue in regret at having come just in case, then stretched the elf-sized strap to fit himself and slung the bag over his shoulder.

Though he had entered like an assassin through the window, he didn’t leave the same way. He walked out proudly through the room door.

To avoid meeting anyone in the ascending elevator, he took the stairs down to the hotel lobby and slipped out onto Fifth Avenue through the empty, dimly lit lobby where there wasn’t even anyone to smell the gunpowder. After briefly looking up at the night sky, which had the fantastic colors of a drug addict’s hallucination, he got into his car and headed to Giuseppina.

Paulina felt guilty. Her incompetence had prevented her from protecting Rose, and she felt she had shown a bitter side of herself that Rose wouldn’t have wanted to see by making the deal.

However, Rose’s reaction was uncharacteristic. Despite being insulted that her friendship was bought on installment, she wore a smile on her face.

The reporter pulled out a draft article and several photos from inside her clothes. All the photos needed for the article, including those she had shown Paulina, were there.

“I was so nervous I hid them on me… I got him good, didn’t I?”

A smile rose to Paulina’s face as well. She knew her client, though innocent and pure, was not a stupid person.

“You didn’t quite… get him, I think. That man seemed only interested in the photo of himself. But you’ll definitely get the mafia good, Rose.”

In truth, she had saved the article purely out of anxiety. Being the type of person who easily became anxious if not holding something close, she had hidden it inside her clothes. It was a blessing in disguise.

It wasn’t time to celebrate yet. The reporter took a short breath and looked up at the lawyer.

“So, then the police…”

“They were probably mafia people. Damn, they must have fled to buy time for that man to enter. Let’s leave, just the two of us.”

There was something they needed to do first. They had been attacked even in the hotel they thought was safe, so there was no guarantee they would be safe on the way. It would be better to make contact so they wouldn’t be treated as having vanished.

“Paulina, let’s contact the editor-in-chief first. He might not even know where we are. Right?”

“It would be better if someone knew. Are you going to call directly?”

Rose’s voice was a bit raspy. It was probably due to the detective’s brutal grip on her throat, strong enough for even Paulina to notice. However, the reporter nodded.

“Yes! I’ll do it myself!”

The reporter dialed to find the newspaper’s number and made the call. After the connection tone rang about seven times with no answer, the editor-in-chief’s voice finally came through.

“Ah, who could be calling at this hour…”

His voice was trembling. Wondering what was happening, she immediately started to explain herself. No, wait… could something be happening there too? But the detective came here.

“Hello? Editor-in-chief! It’s me, Rose. I’m still at the hotel, and…”

Someone cut her off. It wasn’t the editor-in-chief’s voice. It sounded like an animal growling, but she could clearly tell it was a gnoll’s voice.

“Ah, so you’re Reporter Rose Leafman. I’m the one who’d like to be called Miss Proci.”

A chill ran up her spine. Yes, if the detective had come here, it was obvious where the gnolls would have gone.

“Giuseppina Proci…”

A hyena-like cackling sound came through the phone. She was chuckling.

“Such a pretty name doesn’t suit her. Why not call her Giuseppina Proci, the mainland way? Don’t go to the printing press, come here. There seem to be some errors in your article… let’s resolve them through conversation.”

The feeling that her last possibility and final trick had been blocked choked her. But the reporter had no choice in the matter.