Ch.46005 Investigation Record – The Sword Thief of the National Museum (1)

The mafia’s visits hadn’t made a significant difference in my reporting work. No, perhaps things had actually become easier. That fact… had been weighing on my mind.

This week alone, several men had visited our newspaper office twice, giving the editor-in-chief photographs and various materials. The day after each visit, newspapers always sold like hotcakes.

Those men were trying to buy us off. While people can refuse bad things, they can’t refuse good things—they were trying to win us over with exclusive stories and information to make us their pawns.

But what if we didn’t comply? It was either comfortably accept the exclusives they brought us or fight against the mafia… and we were just ordinary citizens who couldn’t fight.

If I asked my father… No, that’s not right. Father isn’t someone who gets involved in such matters. He’d probably just tell me to leave this newspaper and move somewhere else, but I don’t want that.

This era is a golden age. I wanted to be the eyes that witnessed this golden age, and I also wanted to preserve my life at the Golden Age Press. If so, I needed to keep writing stories.

Sitting around makes a person sink. They say good things come from muscles and bad things come from the gut. It felt like I was running away, but I stayed here anyway.

These days, I’ve had much less time to talk with the editor-in-chief. I feel an ominous sensation, as if the place I knew was transforming into a place I didn’t recognize.

“It’s so… suffocating. Don’t you think so, Paulina?”

Everyone was still busy moving about… No, I don’t know why. I can only think of childish fantasies where someone suddenly appears like a comet and locks up all those mafia men.

“It’s been like this since we got involved with them. Why don’t you really contact your father, Rose? I mean… he might have a solution.”

“Come on, you know my father isn’t like that. He’d just worry and say something like, ‘Why don’t you try moving to another newspaper?'”

Checking my schedule hoping to go out on assignment, I found nothing planned for today except meeting with sources for coffee. As I was feeling suffocated, the phone rang.

Memories of last time made my hands tremble, so I steadied my wrist with my other hand before picking up the receiver. Once again, I heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, this is reporter Rose Leafman from the Golden Age Press! Who—”

“Rose, are you alright? I’m sorry for calling so late, but we discovered there was a traitor in our investigation team, so I couldn’t even check on you until now. I’m sorry…”

It was Inspector Leonard. He sounded gaunt, as if the failed plan to catch Giuseppina Proci last time had taken a toll on him.

“I’m fine! Probably… Anyway, are you okay, Inspector? And did you catch the traitor?”

“Yes, we caught him. The traitor was a rookie officer. Remember Inspector Jonathan Pace who took you to the hotel last time? Apparently, someone lured Jonathan outside the hotel claiming there was a surrendering suspect. That’s probably why you were attacked too. The traitor shot Jonathan in the back, but thankfully, Jonathan was quick and shot him dead immediately. Thanks to that, we caught the traitor, and now everything’s fine.”

I made a mental note to apologize later for suspecting him based on first impressions. I sighed with relief that things had somehow worked out well on their end.

“And now, I’d like to give you some safe information… I’m giving it to you because I feel sorry, and it’s completely unrelated to the mafia or gangsters, so it should be safe. Would you like to hear it?”

I couldn’t help but feel a chill run up my spine. Even though my rational mind tried to calm my emotions by saying this wouldn’t be something ominous, my emotions remained as sensitive as a wounded animal.

Suppressing my feelings, I deliberately tried to sound cheerful. They say a good attitude brings good luck!

“Yes, if it’s something safe this time!”

Although Paulina was looking at me as if she didn’t approve, she wouldn’t suspect people. Suspicion itself was the enemy.

“Well, you know the New York Museum? Are you aware of the special exhibition they’re holding now?”

“Ah, I saw it in the newspaper… That’s right! They’re having a special exhibition of legendary swords, aren’t they?”

Before guns that anyone could learn to shoot were invented, there were many legends of magical swords. Stories of swords that could cut through anything in one stroke, or swords that emitted beams of light when swung, and all sorts of magically imbued swords.

From swords said to have been used by ancient kings of England to swords embedded in trees or rocks, many swords had been passed down… but truthfully, after guns appeared, they weren’t used much anymore and became ceremonial.

Honestly, when you can just pull a trigger and pierce through something as sharply as a sword from a much greater distance, who would want to fight with a tiny one-handed sword, no matter how magical it claimed to be?

An exhibition showcasing these legendary swords was being held. Now the only purpose of these swords was to spark even a little interest in history among children.

In elementary school, seeing such swords at a museum in Texas and having my eyes light up felt like just yesterday. I wanted to keep sweet memories as my friend rather than face the stifling reality.

“Yes, they’re mostly used as field trip destinations for kids… Anyway, someone has attempted to break in there several times. A thief trying to steal museum artifacts would make at least a bit of a story, wouldn’t it?”

Even if it was a childish exhibition, it was still being held at the National Museum, and a thief trying to get in there… it seemed like a decent story.

Besides, if it was just one thief, Paulina could probably protect me. I nodded vigorously, though it wouldn’t be visible through the phone.

“Yes! That definitely sounds like a safe and good story! I’ll go check it out today! It’ll be nice to revive some old memories too!”

I got up from my stuffy office desk, left a message saying I was going out on assignment, and left the company building. The refreshing feeling I experienced was still unpleasant.

After getting into Paulina’s car, I fiddled with my camera that had been repaired after being damaged last time. Since it had saved my life, I would keep using it even if I had to repair it over and over.

Feeling the car start smoothly, I spoke to Paulina as she drove. She wasn’t the type to lose concentration from conversation anyway.

“Paulina, why would anyone try to steal a sword? I mean, they’d be stealing it to sell it, right? Normally, once caught, they shouldn’t show up again.”

“Well… they might be delusional. They might think they’re a historical figure saying, ‘I’m going to reclaim my sword!’ and come looking for it.”

She threw in a smirk before continuing.

“But they won’t be able to steal anything from the exhibition hall. If there have already been break-in attempts, they’ve probably increased the number of guards and put reinforced glass cases over everything. A lone thief would have to break through that and take it… it’s not worth the effort.”

An incomprehensible thief! If I could uncover something, it would definitely be an exclusive—and not one received from the mafia, but a real Golden Age Press exclusive.

Determined to try to change something, I arrived at the New York Museum with Paulina. Banners depicting knights with swords were fluttering like flags.

Children from nearby elementary schools were gathered at the entrance for field trips, chattering excitedly. Resisting the urge to wave at them, I entered the museum.

Keeping my camera tucked away, I approached the information desk and immediately presented my press card. I couldn’t photograph such places carelessly. The light and heat from the flash could damage the exhibits.

“I’m Rose Leafman, reporter from the Golden Age Press! I heard there’s been a thief trying to break into the museum during this special exhibition period, so I came to do some reporting. Where should I go to get permission?”

Normally, the company would contact them first, but this time I just showed up. I desperately wanted to escape the unpleasant and stifling air in the office.

The information desk employee hesitated briefly before picking up the internal phone to call someone. Soon, a short, pot-bellied man in a suit who looked more senior than the desk employee hurriedly came down and extended his hand to me.

“Ah, so you’re a reporter? I don’t know where you heard it from, but you came because you heard there might be a thief here…”

The pompous man looked us up and down as if evaluating us. I stopped Paulina as she moved her hand toward the shield hanging on her briefcase.

“Golden Age Press is quite good at breaking exclusive stories these days, and… well, if you’re from there, I should grant you permission to report. Honestly, I don’t understand why anyone would do this. The swords here are all…”

Just then, some children passed by. The suited man kept his mouth shut until the children were far enough away, then continued.

“Second or third-rate. Well, Hexenbane, which supposedly slaughtered witches during the witch-hunting era, is somewhat famous… and there are a few common ones, you know. Several flaming swords. That’s all there is, and these couldn’t even be sold on the black market. They’re not national treasures like those in England.”

Was he trying to protect the children’s innocence? He seemed like a good person, but I couldn’t appreciate his choice of words. You can’t use the word “slaughter” for people.

Still, for witches… perhaps it could be an exception. They were people who used sorcery on others.

Magic is rational, but sorcery is not. Magic is human knowledge forged through exploration and research, but sorcery is merely a base and blasphemous act.

No. They may have deserved to die, but still, not slaughter. I was thinking I should correct him, but he gestured for us to follow him inside. I missed my chance.

“Anyway, if you’re going to write an article, I’d like you to mention how thorough our security measures are. We’ve increased the number of armed guards, and we’ve put reinforced glass cases on all exhibits, not just some.”

I entered, looking at the swords hanging on walls or placed in cases. As he said, private security guards in light blue uniforms were standing guard in front of important exhibits, and the cases covering the items were so solid that even a light tap revealed how sturdy they were.

After taking a photo without using flash, I moved deeper into the exhibition hall. The sword he had mentioned, Hexenbane, was right in front of me.

The reinforced glass case surrounding it was so thick that it slightly refracted what was inside.

For all that, the sword was quite ordinary.

It was a plain one-handed sword with an inscription from the God-President’s scripture saying not to spare witches. It seemed to be a sword made purely as a weapon, with no decorations on the pommel or handle.

A weapon that’s just a weapon is uncomfortable to look at. I took a photo of Hexenbane without using flash. I hoped this ominous feeling would disappear when the film was developed.

“Well, your security status is excellent! It seems like no one could break in unless they were a gang of bandits from the Old West!”

I smiled warmly at him, then noticed a security guard who didn’t look threatening without a firearm even greeting the children who had come for the field trip.

“We hired a good security company, so the guards are very friendly too. So, I hope you’ll write a good article… and please remember that your reporting permission can be revoked after we review your draft. Understood?”

Ah, just another person trying to use me as a mouthpiece. I had been suspicious when he gave me what seemed like reporting guidelines… Still, I had received permission to report. I nodded lightly.

“Yes, yes. I understand. Carry on with your work~.”

Trying to erase the unpleasant feeling, I turned my attention back to the security guard greeting a child. Should I take a picture of this too?

No, I’d need permission from the child’s mother to use their picture in the newspaper, and getting permission from parents was much harder than from adults.

As I was thinking I should sit here and wait for someone suspicious to arrive, a man brushed past me so closely that our clothes almost touched.

He was wearing a shabby suit and reeked strongly of cigarettes and alcohol. I didn’t know the name of the cigarette brand well, but it was the one with a red circle in the middle.

There was something… similar about him to that detective I saw last time. I glanced at his face wondering if it was the detective, but it wasn’t him. Of course, such a person wouldn’t come to a museum to look at swords.

However, the man began approaching Hexenbane as if he had come with a specific destination in mind. He walked toward that sword without even glancing at the other swords, as if viewing it was his only purpose.

Maybe he’s just an enthusiast who likes that sword? Despite creating a reason to feel at ease, an instinctive chill ran up my spine, and I followed him with Paulina.

He stood in front of that plain sword as if possessed, reading the exhibit description repeatedly. I examined the description from a distance.

Hexenbane is a sword that cuts through magic and sorcery, blessed by the God-President’s words to cut through even the strongest sorcery and magic in a single stroke…. Doesn’t something like that have some use?

The description seemed practical enough for a thief to target it, so I turned to Paulina.

“Paulina, that… can’t be broken by human hands, right? I mean, that thick glass.”

I whispered quietly, and Paulina nodded. But she couldn’t nod for long. The man raised his fist as if he was going to smash the reinforced glass case.

I immediately raised my camera and called out to prevent him from doing something suspicious.

“You’ll only hurt your hand! It doesn’t seem wise to do such a thing with a reporter right behind you! Paulina, please handle physical arguments if anything happens!”

However, the man just glanced briefly in my direction before turning his attention back to the reinforced glass case. By now, security guards were gathering one by one due to my voice, but ignoring them, he raised his fist.

He struck the case. The thick reinforced glass case shook with an unsettling sound. Not even a scratch appeared on his hand. That was definitely not human strength.

A sense of déjà vu… Yes! Just like that detective last time, he was striking the reinforced glass case with abnormally strong force.

After he struck it twice, the thick reinforced glass case began to crack in a vein-like pattern. It seemed like one more strike would shatter the case.

“Paulina, that guy, he’s like that detective! No, it can’t be him… Anyway, subdue him!”

I felt a mix of joy and anxiety, as if I had caught a story bigger than just a simple museum sword thief.

The security guards pounced on him, but the sword thief, like the detective, used his abnormal strength to shake them off and delivered a third punch to the reinforced glass case. Despite shattered glass pieces raining down, not a single cut appeared on his skin.