Ch.497Episode 18 – Men’s Club

Stories of overseas travel always feel unfamiliar to me.

Though many modern people claim to find peace abroad, for me, foreign countries were no different from workplaces or job sites.

It’s not that I had no good memories at all. The problem was they were as rare as hen’s teeth.

Anyway.

My overseas assignments were a series of diverse and fantastic experiences, and among them, the most absurd posting was the “Russian Federation.”

Personally, I think it was just as harsh as China, which was my first assignment. For reference, Russia was my second posting. I was assigned there immediately after finishing my China assignment.

When orders came to leave for Russia right after returning home, I was shocked. Even my seniors were surprised. They all asked if I’d upset someone higher up.

Back then, I didn’t understand why they were so concerned.

But wow… once I got there, I understood.

Because surveillance was strict? That’s a fact. That was the ‘only’ fact.

What a godforsaken place.

The US, China, Japan, and Russia were all hellholes.

Calling it “Nigeria with snow” would be too generous. Even Nigeria wasn’t this messed up.

This place was just absurdity upon absurdity. A country of supreme idiots.

Bald, tattooed skinheads would pick fights with me thinking I was Chinese.

(This was the first time I’d experienced such serious and insulting discrimination, so I lured them to a CCTV blind spot and smashed their heads with a bottle)

The shabby accommodations had peeling paint, cracked walls, and were on the verge of collapse.

(The website showed perfectly normal rooms, for fuck’s sake. I still haven’t gotten a refund)

Russian police would brazenly demand bribes.

(Buy your own damn chocolate bars with your own money, officers)

Even minor official business would stall without bribes.

(What kind of bribe do you need to process three pages of documents?)

When I turned on the tap to wash rice, rusty water trickled out like the urine of someone with incontinence.

(My colleague unknowingly washed with rusty water and got kicked out of the lodging)

Muddy unpaved roads appeared just outside Moscow city limits.

(When our car got stuck there, my seniors cursed me, asking if I was Napoleon invading Russia)

And the surveillance was incredibly strict.

I was already irritated enough, but those FSB bastards nearly drove me insane on multiple occasions.

Still, I did appreciate the cheap alcohol and cigarettes. The food was delicious too, which made it somewhat bearable. Sightseeing historical sites was also enjoyable.

Without these small pleasures, I might have resigned long ago.

The experiences I gained in Russia helped me in Africa and allowed me to live comfortably in the Kiyen Empire.

But I can’t deny the undeniable truth that all those memories remain as utterly shitty recollections.

“……”

There was a reason why memories of Russia suddenly came to mind.

The expression of a master confronting a disciple who was burning a cesspool with fire resembled too closely that of my squad leader (a major) when he witnessed rice mixed with rusty water.

“So you have a talent for splashing sewage on children…”

I couldn’t offer any explanation or excuse.

Episode 18 – The Gentlemen’s Club

Despite changing locations and quite some time passing, the Grand Duchess still couldn’t bring herself to speak.

“……”

Considering that she had participated in the Church-Magic Tower War and fought against demons in frozen lands, her reaction might seem exaggerated at first glance, but the reality was quite different.

As her title suggests, Alexandra Petrovna is a high-ranking figure in Kiyen. Not just any high-ranking figure, but actual royalty.

According to “The Imperial Foundation History” (for some reason, the Kiyen Empire always formats document titles related to the Smirnov imperial family this way. Was she actually the Northern “Pig” Duchess rather than Grand Duchess?), “The first Emperor, who received a request from a dragon, defeated an evil dragon and obtained a divine object as a reward.”

According to legend, there are claims like “dragon blood flows in their veins” or “they married a dragon transformed into a human and had offspring” – “nonsense that even the Kim family of North Korea, who desperately hope for a fourth-generation succession, wouldn’t spout.” Like all legends, these were just collections of unverified nonsense, “triple nonsense” that science, magic, and theology all unanimously declared “ridiculous.”

Logically thinking, isn’t that right?

Just as a strange woman lying in a pond distributing swords cannot be the basis of a system of government, “children born from having sex with dragons” cannot be the foundation of nobility. That would just be a half-dog-like life form that shouldn’t exist.

This was the truth proven by the legend of King Arthur, which boasts a brilliant history (since 1975~) passed down from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Even the imperial family knew that “Dragon-Sex” was nonsense, so they never mentioned it except during imperial funerals and coronations.

Of course, suspiciously wealthy people considered this a plausible hypothesis. But anyway.

“……”

Imagine such a person meeting her only disciple after a long time, only to find that disciple splashing sewage around. How shocking must that have been?

If this were a wuxia novel rather than fantasy, she might have died from qi deviation a hundred times over.

The Grand Duchess, who had been opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish, finally began to speak, and that was precisely why.

“…Well. I should hear the child’s story.”

“Professor…!”

Waaah! Camilla shed tears and snot.

Like a commoner grabbing a magistrate to express grievances, she clung to the Grand Duchess’s trouser leg and began to explain her circumstances.

*

“I see, so that’s what happened.”

By the time the story ended, the snacks the Grand Duchess had brought were completely gone, leaving only crumbs.

Camilla absorbed the snacks prepared for her while continuously shedding tears. The sight of her chewing with a face swollen from mosquito bites while constantly sobbing was a spectacle that would amaze even Chinese researchers studying “the mysteries of the human body.”

I cut a cookie in half and handed it to Camilla. She opened her mouth wide to receive it, and I casually began speaking.

“Waste management has a significant impact on hygiene. In refugee camps housing anywhere from tens of thousands to millions of people, an outbreak of infectious disease would be difficult to manage.”

The Grand Duchess nodded readily.

“I know. It was the same on the battlefield.”

“I suppose…”

The war between the Church and Magic Tower happened 100 years ago, in a distant past when civilization was far behind the present.

It was an era when concepts of public health and personal hygiene were vague, so people disposed of excrement anywhere they pleased.

Camilla interjected.

“Until Florence Nightingale proved it with statistics during the Crimean War in the 1850s, even the British Army didn’t give a damn about hygiene. They maintained military hospitals at the level of public toilets.”

Like a true Brit, she once again mentioned the glorious (and not stolen from colonies!) legacy of the great British Empire.

The Grand Duchess smiled gently, stroked her head, and began to look wistful.

“No one expected or prepared for that many magicians to gather. The first scene I saw… Yes, I remember being troubled because there were dozens of times more people than the uniforms I had initially prepared.”

Lost in memories, the Grand Duchess slightly raised her head and continued.

“We couldn’t communicate, didn’t know who to command. The biggest problem was definitely the toilets. Sometimes I wondered if this was a battlefield or a latrine…”

“Wasn’t that common for all armies of that era?”

“True. Even when I sought advice from generals, I don’t recall getting any clear answers.”

What could the Kiyen army do differently? They instinctively knew that excrement smelled bad and was filthy, but no one knew it was a source of infection that spread disease.

That’s why the generals could only say, “Dispose of it far from the encampment.”

Of course, as is always the case with war, there wasn’t always time to dispose of waste outside the camp.

In winter, they might get away with it, but in summer? What could they do? Disease would spread immediately. In fact, problems arose even when waste was disposed of outside the camp.

“It was summer of the fourth year, I believe. When the wheat was ripening, farmers attacked us with plows. They claimed their crops were ruined by the waste we had left behind.”

“Hmm…”

“Fortunately, we resolved it peacefully, but similar incidents must have happened thousands of times. It was one of the main arguments the Papal States used to defame us magicians. And it was quite effective.”

Camilla lowered her voice slightly and asked, “Black propaganda?” I nodded.

The Grand Duchess’s past stories continued for quite some time. As far as I knew, she wasn’t particularly fond of talking about the war.

She must be considering Camilla’s presence. Camilla loves listening to stories, especially those from the distant past.

After a while, the war stories concluded, and the conversation naturally drifted in another direction. Camilla, licking her lips at the sight of cookie crumbs, was opening a new box when she suddenly asked:

“By the way, Professor, what brings you here?”

The Grand Duchess, sipping a cold drink, rested her chin on one hand. I gave Camilla a disapproving look.

The Grand Duchess was gazing into the distance. Her abrupt, curt responses carried a strange curtness, as if saying, “You’re only asking about this important matter now?”

“I came to see the child.”

“…Ah.”

“Now that your mind has returned from being completely absorbed in snacks, you’re finally curious.”

Camilla, belatedly coming to her senses, wiped the crumbs from her mouth, but the train had long left the station.

The Grand Duchess closed her eyes and shook her head. She clicked her tongue in concern for her pitiful disciple.

As the disciple awkwardly put down the box and tried to read the situation, the master began to explain how she came to this remote place.

“I was briefly disconnected from world news due to urgent matters. When I returned to the castle, I heard interesting stories about you.”

“Stories? What kind of stories?”

“They say you burned a tree. A tree that ate people.”

The Grand Duchess mentioned this casually.

“It seems it wasn’t an ordinary tree. I examined the records of the Imperial Academy, Magic Tower, and Ivory Tower, but found no matches. So it wasn’t a magical creature either.”

The Grand Magician, who had clearly done her research, seemed to have a good guess as she asked her question.

The question was clear and precise.

It was essentially checking the final puzzle piece before completing the picture.

“Was it a demon?”

“Yes.”

Camilla didn’t hesitate, and I filled in the missing explanation.

“It was a plan orchestrated by a cult called Al-Qair. Officially, with the death of Abu Bakau al-Shevar, the ‘Prophet’ who founded Al-Qair and commanded the operation, one ‘tree’ was destroyed, and 53 cultists were arrested by ‘Shamir’ Akande, concluding the matter.”

“And unofficially?”

I let out a slight sigh.

“Despite eliminating 28 additional trees beyond the 2 we directly destroyed, we don’t know how many trees remain. The same goes for the remaining cultists.”

“That matches the Papal States’ explanation.”

“I heard the same story from the Papal States.”

After calmly continuing my explanation, I sprawled on the sofa with a languid expression. With my arm on the backrest, I finished my explanation.

“Being a small religious group, they’ll likely disintegrate soon. With the founder and first leader gone, they’ll lose their center, split into various factions, and gradually collapse.”

“Won’t they be dangerous?”

Dangerous? Well, yes. If the remnants carry out terrorist attacks, some people might die.

But ISIL, after being bombed and having their leader assassinated, can only hide underground and carry out suicide bombings, not rampage like before.

And Aum Shinrikyo, which released poison gas in the Tokyo subway, was forcibly disbanded after its leader was executed, then reformed but remains under intense surveillance by Japanese security.

What does this mean?

It means that once they’ve been thoroughly crushed, they usually end up in coffins.

(Of course, the Taliban, who fled to neighboring countries in a near-death state only to return to Afghanistan and thoroughly defeat the Afghan government, are an exception, as is the Northern Alliance fighting fiercely against them. – Remember that this region is where Britain/Soviet Union/America all amicably fled in their underwear [as of 2021].)

Would the cults in this world be any different?

Thanks to Akande capturing just over 50 people, the fingernail-pulling factory is working hard 24/7 without respecting labor laws, so the remaining cultists will soon be caught.

I expressed all this as positively and concisely as possible.

“The Interrogation Department will handle it well.”

“Those folks certainly will.”

It seemed I had summarized too much, but things worked out anyway.

The Grand Duchess nodded as if she understood and turned to Camilla.

“I’m proud that you defeated a demon.”

“Hehe.”

At the gentle smile, Camilla awkwardly scratched the back of her head. If praise makes whales dance and snacks make Camilla dance, with both praise and snacks present, she looked ready to burst through the ceiling.

But the atmosphere was strange.

Out of nowhere, the Grand Duchess delivered a light knock on Camilla’s crown.

“Ouch! Why, why did you do that…?”

“What are you grinning about? Your exploits have spread across global media.”

“…?”

As Camilla tilted her head in confusion after receiving the unexpected knock, newspapers came fluttering through the air and spread out on the table.

Everything finally made sense. The protagonists adorning the front pages of each newspaper were none other than our group.

My hand trembled as I picked up a newspaper. Beside me, the Grand Duchess sighed deeply.

“…I taught you ancient magic, delighted that you used the Azure Flame. But I forgot that before making you a magician, I should have made you a proper person first.”

The master lamented upon witnessing her disciple’s conduct.

Ah, I taught her wrong! I should have taught morality before magic.

Claiming there wasn’t enough time, I messed up the curriculum, and now a psychopath (not really) serial arsonist (accurate) has been unleashed upon the world!

“Hmm…!”

The Grand Duchess’s expression fluctuated wildly. Brightening then darkening. Improving then worsening.

Her nephew (Emperor Nicholas VI) was surely the one with dementia, yet she seemed to be the one suffering from it.

As her low groans continued, Camilla grew increasingly restless. Regardless, I waited eagerly for the Grand Duchess to speak.

And finally!

After a long wait, the Grand Duchess opened her mouth.

The solution that came from her lips was as brilliant and innovative as to slap Solomon the Wise four or five times across the face.

“…Good! Let’s do this.”

*

The scorching midday sun.

Wind fiercely races across the heated sand.

Without a single cloud or shade, the earth has absorbed tremendous heat. But if you asked if the earth was the only thing heated up, the answer would be absolutely not.

-Kieeeek!!

-Sissssst!!

-Kyaaaak!!

Under the hot sun, numerous monsters gathered on the sandy field. Trapped in yellowish, translucent spheres, unable to escape, they looked no different from being confined in jars.

I couldn’t help but exclaim:

“Wow…”

Camilla scolded me:

“Don’t admire it!”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t!”

I put my hand to my ear and bent down.

“I can’t hear you well~”

As I concentrated and listened carefully, hoping for a response.

Instead of words, I heard wailing.

Among the sounds of ferocious monsters.

-Kiyaaaak-!!

-Shishishishishishi-!!

“Gyaaaak…!”

Inside the barrier set by the Grand Duchess.

Trapped alongside the monsters the Grand Duchess had brought, Camilla was frantically running away from them with her magical powers restricted.