Ch.4Voluntary Retirement (4)

# For two days, Kain had been quite busy.

He had to be dragged to executive meetings and face public questioning about how he handled his work, finish writing his statement, and schedule appointments with law professors and graduate students waiting in line outside the Imperial Security Bureau building to prepare for potential lawsuits.

The Imperial Security Bureau exists to serve the Empire and takes orders from the Emperor. This means the Bureau’s power fluctuates wildly depending on the Emperor’s authority.

The nobles, including the Elector, coveted the Bureau’s immense power—specifically the authority to obtain information about the entire Empire—but they disliked being spied on through that same authority.

Therefore, the nobles tried to “tame” the Bureau according to their tastes. The most elegant and sophisticated method was litigation. Consequently, many lawsuits filed against the Bureau involved legally debatable issues.

The ability to argue these contentious points meant good thesis material.

It was no exaggeration but objective fact that waiting one month could yield an ordinary thesis, three months could produce a thesis worthy of presenting at an academic conference, and six months could secure a graduation thesis.

Thanks to the Bureau, the Empire’s professors of law, administration, and political science enjoyed happy days. It was a time of suffering for graduate students, but at least they didn’t struggle with creative blocks or lack of material. The gold mine was right there—they just needed to bring a spoon.

The Empire’s laws became more sophisticated daily, political theories continued to develop, and administrative textbooks reached the point of being completely rewritten every year.

Printers also benefited from the Bureau’s influence. Year after year, law books and textbooks grew increasingly thicker.

Because of this, Kain wasn’t worried about the various lawsuits thrown at him. He just needed to follow the mechanical procedures.

After writing his statement and submitting it to the General Affairs Department, they would erase all sensitive parts, place names, or personal names, and then hand it over to the graduate students waiting outside.

Within less than a month, a plausible legal advisory response would arrive. Submitting that directly to the Imperial Court would end the lawsuit.

This particular case had even experienced professors showing interest. Is the Empire’s criminal duel law beneficial or detrimental from a legal perspective? Is the application of imperial treason laws to knights who abused the criminal duel law justified? And so on.

These were benefits one couldn’t even dream of after retirement. The Security Bureau wasn’t an institution one could simply retire from anyway.

To prevent retired agents from taking fresh information to foreign countries or other nobles, they had to report to a “safe house” somewhere in the Empire for a year—until the information they possessed became outdated. Of course, there were other purposes too.

Anyway, the lawsuit wouldn’t last more than six months. Kain would be found not guilty, Goetz would be released, and those with money but bad reputations would be legally fleeced. Lawyers would be happy, new papers would pour out, and printers would enjoy daily prosperity.

Of course, to make that happen, he needed to properly finish the statement he was currently writing. In the Imperial Security Bureau’s Department 4 office, Kain concentrated on writing. The statement was still blank, and he hadn’t even written his name.

He couldn’t write. Every time he tried to put pen to paper, bitter bile rose in his throat.

Finally, Kain sighed and placed his pen in the inkwell. He leaned back in his chair and drifted into a light sleep.

Had he slept for five minutes?

“Imperial Security Bureau, Department 4, Section Chief Kain?”

A man’s voice was heard. A deep, heavy baritone. Kain answered.

“Yeah.”

“You are hereby summoned for summary judgment.”

It was the same voice as before, but with a subtly different intonation. The difference between white shoes and white shoes. Kain answered indifferently.

“Why.”

“Why? Because if you received a bonus, you should buy us a drink!”

Before he could even yelp, two burly men grabbed Kain and embraced him.

“Oh, brother! I heard you caught Goetz! That’s our brother for you!”

“How long has it been, brother! You’ve lost even more weight! Brother! I’ll set your fine at one barrel of beer and five plates of roast pork thigh!”

With identical voices coming from both front and back, Kain couldn’t gather his wits.

“Let go, you bastards! I’m getting dizzy!”

It had the opposite effect. The men embraced Kain even more vigorously.

“Oh my, our brother has been eating years instead of food, what shall we do about this, brother? Not long ago, he would have easily shrugged this off!”

“That’s right, brother! Isn’t age something to be washed away with alcohol?”

“Why am I your brother?”

“That’s my line!”

The two men couldn’t continue. Kain had gently caressed their sternums with his elbows. Of course, their thick muscles probably weren’t affected at all, but the twin brothers pretended to be in pain for some reason.

Kain looked down at the man on his left. Straw-colored hair, blue eyes, chubby face.

“Boehm.”

He looked down at the man on his right. Straw-colored hair, blue eyes, chubby face.

“Bom.”

Boehm and Bom. Twin agents. They were from central Mirdenburk, famous for its high-quality coal mines. He didn’t know which one was the older brother. They both insisted they were.

“When did you arrive?”

“Just now!” Boehm shouted enthusiastically. “Just got back from the north. Oh my, I thought I was going to freeze to death in those highlands. I was shivering when I returned to headquarters, and wow, everyone was talking about you!”

“Tell us about catching Goetz! What did you use? A sword? A staff?”

Kain looked at the brothers in disbelief.

“Didn’t Whetstone say anything?”

Boehm and Bom glanced at each other and snickered.

“You still don’t know Whetstone? She just said, ‘I cannot tell you that,’ and kept her mouth shut.”

“I tried to pry a little, but she said, ‘Since the section chief was the operation commander, it would be more accurate to hear it from him than from me.’ That kid’s lips are tighter than the imperial palace walls.”

Kain was secretly proud. The virtue of an imperial agent is silence. But at the same time, he was worried. Agent Lily’s silence was almost pathological.

Perhaps it was the unique home education method of the White Blood Knights Commander. Absolute obedience to superiors. Following orders without question. ‘There was no need to raise a child like a wind-up machine, though.’

“By the way, brother. I heard you haven’t even bought Whetstone a meal?”

Boehm reproached him. Kain’s eyes narrowed.

“Who should buy whom a meal?”

“Come on, brother. That’s too much. You know how Whetstone looks at you, right? Do you know what Whetstone said earlier? Standing at attention like this, she said, ‘I cannot tell you that,’ and grinned. Like this.”

“Ah, hey. You don’t need to imitate her expression too.”

Bom threw a punch at Boehm. Of course, Boehm dodged it easily. But Bom didn’t give up trying to probe with his subtle tone.

“Brother. What’s wrong with our Whetstone? Her family is solid, her chest is solid, her bottom is solid. What’s the problem?”

“Her cheeks are a bit plump too.”

Boehm chimed in. Bom shook his head.

“Hey, that’s all baby fat. At twenty-two, or at most by twenty-five, it’ll all be gone. She’s only twenty now. Brother, do you dislike women taller than you?”

“No.”

“Then do you dislike women younger than you? Is an eight-year age gap burdensome?”

“No.”

“Well, then what’s the problem?”

“Your catastrophic sense of language.” Kain folded his arms. Boehm and Bom held their stomachs and cackled.

“Why? This humor worked really well with the northerners! Jokes that were popular in the Empire ten years ago are a hit there! We received all the pre-mission education before going.”

‘It must have been an infiltration mission,’ Kain thought.

News of northern pagans showing signs of forming an alliance had arrived recently. Boehm and Bom probably went to establish connections. Gathering informants, forming friendships… a month-long mission shouldn’t be too burdensome.

“Brother. It’s a perfect picture, isn’t it? The marriage between the second daughter of the White Blood Knights Commander, from a prestigious imperial fencing family, and a promising elite of the Imperial Security Bureau.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Come on, get married while the girl is interested. Girls like Whetstone are rare. Tight-lipped. Stubborn. Yet doesn’t cut corners. Deep and passionate inside. When a girl like that changes her mind, wow, she never looks back. I know because I’ve been rejected by such a woman.”

“You’re both crazy.”

Despite his words, Kain pulled open a drawer with a clatter. He lifted out a wallet containing currency.

“Your way of speaking needs to be treated with alcohol and meat. Hey, Boehm, where are you going!”

Boehm dashed off. Bom grinned.

“It’s the department’s first dinner in two months, so we should bring Whetstone too. That’s obvious, right, brother?”

Should he stop him? Kain decided not to say anything. Talking about retirement while sober wasn’t ideal anyway. It would be better to speak after getting them moderately drunk and well-fed.

* * * * *

Restaurants in busy districts tend to have good soundproofing. Not because they cater to regular customers who need to keep secrets, but because they’re often located in places that were once fortresses, armories, or powder magazines.

The walls are thick, the ceilings low, but thanks to the hearth and the constant flow of customers, the room is warm. The warmth reaches even the Department 4 people occupying a four-person room.

“So, I opened the letter from the mail coach. Quietly. Secretly.”

Boehm picked up a well-cooked pork thigh. It was cooked with dark beer, removing any gamey smell with heated alcohol and balancing the richness with the distinctive tangy flavor of dark beer.

“And do you know what was written inside? ‘There’s a flea in this letter. If there’s no flea, it means someone opened it.’ I thought I was going crazy. I opened it in dim moonlight, so I couldn’t tell if there had been a flea or not.”

“So what did you do?”

“I took off all my clothes and searched everywhere, but there wasn’t a flea to be found. I had no choice but to search through the hay in the stable and catch one to put in. The itching nearly drove me insane.”

“Pfft.”

For the first time, Whetstone burst out laughing. She had been smiling without saying a word until now. Bom grinned.

“Hey, that’s funny, right? Want to hear something even funnier? You’ll probably be catching fleas with your top off next year too! Of course, no one knows if it’ll be in the north or east. Maybe the west or south.”

“The year after next,” Kain corrected. “Whetstone’s only been here for six months. Foreign dispatch missions require at least a year of experience. Before that, she’ll perform missions within the Empire.”

“Come to think of it, this was Whetstone’s first mission, right? Though as a trainee. How was it?”

Kain was about to answer instinctively but closed his mouth. Whetstone’s eyes sparkled.

“You did… well.”

Kain muttered without realizing it. Whetstone’s face flushed bright red. Boehm and Bom smiled meaningfully.

“Oh, brother. Why so boring? Hey, Whetstone. You tell us. Do you think you did well or not? Objectively.”

“I was quite lacking.”

There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation. Boehm refilled her glass and asked.

“Really? Why do you think so? Out of modesty?”

“No. I didn’t do much in the Goetz arrest operation. The section chief did most of it, and my duty was just surveillance.”

“True, you were lacking. Your haircut and shave skills weren’t very good.”

Kain casually agreed. Whetstone’s ears were now red too.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Whoa, hey, hey! Why is this kid so stiff? He was just joking. Loosen up. Have a drink. Come on, a toast to Department 4!”

Boehm led the toast, and Bom raised his glass. Kain and Whetstone clinked glasses too. Kain’s eyes grew slightly moist.

When should he tell them? What should he say?

While pondering, he missed his timing.

“Well, anyway. Whetstone. Um… you know.”

Boehm lowered his voice. Whetstone’s eyes sparkled again. Kain grew anxious once more.

What nonsense is he going to spout now?