Ch.78Two Face’s Guests – Charles Clichy, the Madman Wrapped in Storm (1)

“But why would the president of a company that doesn’t even make radios want to acquire a radio station? We’re not even that large of a broadcasting station…”

The elf who was writing up the contract looked up at President Clichy. Among elves, who typically give off small and fragile impressions, he was quite an imposing figure.

His piercing blue eyes were filled with something that might have been madness or determination, and his hair, which had started losing its color and now had streaks of gray, gave him an air of experience.

Nevertheless, President Clichy was kind to elves. He responded with a friendly smile to the hesitant question from the director of the radio station he was acquiring.

“You shop for groceries, don’t you?”

“Ah… usually my wife does the shopping, but I do join her on weekends. Yes.”

President Clichy smiled, his piercing eyes crinkling, as if he found that answer quite satisfactory. At times like this, he could truly wear the face of a benevolent person.

“I would have been upset if you told me you hadn’t set foot in a grocery store since getting married. Anyway, do you remember what you usually put in your shopping basket?”

The elf station director still couldn’t grasp President Clichy’s intentions, but he answered politely.

“Well… I always put a package of Gremory Chocolate Company’s chocolates in my basket. Oh, yes. Every morning it’s Farmer’s bacon. And also…”

“Enough. Then, do you remember which company makes those metal shopping baskets?”

The elf director straightened his posture and shook his head. President Clichy clicked his tongue as if scolding a child who could only see one thing and not two.

“Nobody cares who makes the shopping basket. Radio is just that basket. What matters is what goes into that basket. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Well, by acquiring a small station like ours, you can’t really determine all the contents of that radio basket…”

“What do you think a man who started with a corner store and spread his business throughout Texas, with a branch in New York, cannot do? And finding ways to determine the basket’s contents is your job. I don’t believe in the future, but I do know how to invest. How long are you going to delay signing?”

There was weight in his voice. He had the power to make it seem as though buying one small local radio station was designing the entire future.

To the station director, President Clichy appeared like a massive breakwater—standing firmly in the present, withstanding all storms, and allowing one to dream of tomorrow after the waves had passed.

That’s why the station director immediately signed the contract. Clichy knew how to give people a sense of purpose. He could transform someone working merely for a paycheck into someone working with a mission.

Once the signing was complete, Clichy’s lawyer gathered the documents. After shaking hands with the satisfied-looking station director, he opened the door and walked out of the director’s office.

Elves lined both sides of the door. They must be employees of this station. He thought he might have seen some of their faces among the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, but President Clichy paid no attention to their faces.

Purpose is a futile thing. Like a drug, it flows through the veins and drives people to act with enthusiasm, but it’s useful only because it ruins the body less than actual drugs.

More important than the elves looking at him with admiration, drunk on purpose… was the fact that Rose hadn’t called him. Had the detective not delivered his message properly?

President Clichy didn’t doubt him. He wasn’t a man swayed by ideology or purpose. He believed that someone who despises the past and doesn’t fantasize about tomorrow doesn’t make mistakes.

If there was no call from Rose by today, he might have to question even that belief. After naturally getting into his chauffeured car, President Clichy gave a brief order.

“Home.”

There was also a gathering today, so he would need to go out in the evening. The time was 4:32 PM. He had enough time to go home and call Rose. If he didn’t even have that much time, he would delay the gathering.

Since no one tried to block President Clichy’s way, there wasn’t much difference between driving through the city and driving on the quiet roads of the suburbs. After about thirty minutes, the car reached the mansion.

The mansion itself wasn’t important. Even if they built walls around it and placed cannons to make it a fortress, it wouldn’t mean much to President Clichy. More important than the size of the house was the fact that it was home.

The elegant wooden door between marble pillars was opened by the butler, and his loving wife greeted him. She was truly a good person, unlike Ysil who had cursed him and left.

“Ah, you’re home early today. There’s still been no call from Rose…”

President Clichy clicked his tongue briefly and shook his head. Rose was probably fine, and he didn’t want to worry his wife.

“The detective I asked to deliver the message must have made a mistake. I’ll call her myself, so don’t worry.”

He immediately headed to his study. It was nice that this house was spacious, but it was unnecessarily large in some areas, requiring quite a long walk. And now, his knees were starting to feel cold when he walked for too long.

Some of his children were already working at the company, but none showed exceptional ability. He loved his children regardless of their abilities, but the fact that there was no talent worthy of succession sometimes created anxiety.

Swallowing that anxiety, President Clichy picked up the phone in his study and called Rose’s apartment, which he had contracted for her. The connection sound rang repeatedly as the line switched through several states.

The time spent waiting for a family member’s voice always felt long, no matter how brief it actually was, but the call connected after not much time had passed. He heard the voice of the lawyer he had assigned to Rose.

“Who is this?”

“It’s me. Is Rose there?”

Paulina turned her head. She could see Rose leaning back on the sofa with an uneasy expression, having taken a vacation after being unable to write an article since the detective had spilled the terrible truth to her.

“She is… No, actually, I think it would be better if you spoke with her directly, sir. I’ll put her on. Rose, it’s your father.”

He now thought he had made a good choice in hiring that ogre half-breed as Rose’s lawyer. Not many contract workers could get along with their employers like friends.

After waiting five more seconds, President Clichy could finally hear his beloved daughter’s voice.

“Yes, yes. Father. Well… um, I’m not in great shape whenever you call… Just, well, I found out something that makes me feel sick. You’ll understand if I say I can’t tell you about it, right?”

So that was why Rose hadn’t called. President Clichy’s expression softened a bit, thinking that the detective hadn’t made a mistake after all.

“Of course. Being a journalist doesn’t mean you have to tell everything you discover. Still, as a parent, I can’t help but worry, Rose.”

Rose said what he wanted to hear. She was quite sensitive and easily broken, but with a little rest, she might recover enough to resume her work.

“Hearing you say that makes me feel better… I want to go home for a bit, instead of just hearing you through this static-filled phone line… But, well, there’s work and all…”

“Then I’ll come to you, and we can at least see each other’s faces. I happen to have business at the New York branch anyway, so it’s better if I come myself. Is that all right, Rose?”

At his words, a smile appeared on Rose’s face. It was the first time in a very long while that joy had appeared on her face. Paulina was a bit uncomfortable too, but she decided to be satisfied with the fact that Rose was happy.

“I’d be grateful if you could do that, but, um, are you really coming for company business? I mean, if I’m being a bother…”

President Clichy clicked his tongue as if soothing a child. He whispered in a gentle voice.

“Family is allowed to be that much of a bother, Rose. It’s not even a bother. In a world full of storms, who else can we lean on but family? I’ll let you know when my schedule is set, and I hope to see you in good spirits. Oh, I don’t want to pressure you…”

Rose’s laughter traveled through the phone line. The sound of her happy laughter made President Clichy laugh as well.

“Father, you’re always so considerate of family! Yes, that sounds good. Let me know when your schedule is set! I’ll even come meet you at the train station!”

It was another satisfying conversation today. As he put down the receiver with a good feeling and a warm heart, President Clichy heard something rhythmic. Footsteps. The sound of shoes with heels.

It seemed his son had already come for the gathering. Unlike President Clichy, who thought both purpose and ideology were foolish, his son was completely immersed in the baseless group called the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn.

Soon the footsteps stopped, and there was a knock on the study door. His grandchildren would just open the door and come in, but he had taught his sons at least that much courtesy.

“Come in. You’re here for the gathering again today, I suppose.”

Only after permission was granted did the door open, and his second son, tall for an elf and dressed in a neat suit, walked in with precise movements. Though he had never served in the military, he was quite good at imitating a soldier.

He approached President Clichy, pounded his chest twice with his fist, then raised his right hand in salute. Most of the empty formalities of the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn were created by this son of his.

Since learning that all these formalities made lower-class elves, who were nothing but society’s garbage, fanatical about the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, he didn’t think it was pathetic anymore… No, it was still pathetic.

They were just trash who felt like they were something when they wore uniforms and set rules only they understood. What was needed was an organization to do dirty work, not these people.

“Since it would be strange for the Forest’s Firstborn, my father, to come alone, I’ve volunteered to be your driver for today as well. Get up now, everyone will be waiting.”

Nevertheless, President Clichy took out a green mask and a long robe from the safe. He put on the outfit, which included a brown cloth draped over the shoulders like a bishop’s vestments.

No matter how pathetic and problematic it was, everything became very simple while wearing this mask. He could burn and hang enemies who needed to be persuaded and subdued, and he could shoot those who spoke annoying words. It was almost like the mask had magical powers… but it would be foolish to be intoxicated by that power. He reminded himself that he needed to know how to use it.

Wearing the robed outfit with the mask, he headed to the garage. He got into the car driven by his son and headed to the forest, the destination of the gathering. The forest is where elves began. The forest is the land of elves. That’s why they gather in the forest.

The elves gathered there, wearing green masks and talking among themselves, created an orderly path as they saw President Clichy getting out of the car.

With a face that seemed full of emotion even through the mask, he pounded his chest and raised his right arm high. He walked through the raised arms. In this moment, he was the Forest’s Firstborn.

After passing through those hands, two elves were waiting for him with a crown woven from branches. He bowed his head briefly, and the branch crown was placed on top of his mask.

It seemed he would have to start another inciting speech, but today one of the followers approached him first. He pounded his chest twice in front of him, extended his hand in salute, and began to speak.

“Forest’s Eldest Son, we have found a journalist who infiltrated our gathering today! She is a traitor to our race who has written articles multiple times calling our actions for fellow elves evil deeds!”

Today would be simple. After hearing those words, he climbed onto the prepared platform in the forest, where an elf with her mask removed was trembling with oil poured over her body. She was a journalist he knew.

Usually, she took what she was given and wrote it down well, but what made her try to infiltrate here and become a hero? Charles Clichy approached her and grabbed her hair with his gloved hand.

“What a strange race! An elf born in the forest, lived in the forest, and spread with the forest, betraying the forest! Let me ask one thing: do we appear evil to you?”

The Forest’s Firstborn removed the gag from the journalist’s mouth. The journalist, unable to maintain composure, began to spew words. She began to pour out hatred.

“Do you even know how many people you’ve burned to death? How many you’ve hanged from trees…”

“Enough! They were all traitors to the elves. They are the ones who stole the forests, the elves’ homeland, and expanded only the vast concrete forests where elves cannot live, pushing us elves to the bottom of society. If we are evil, why does none of us have to sleep in dirty alleys covered with newspapers anymore? If they are good, why did they make us unable to even have confidence!”

The elves gathered in front of the platform let out thunderous cheers. They were all lower-class people. Garbage. Those who had tasted the bitterness of society and given up. Hope was sweet enough to lead them.

Charles Clichy gave them jobs. He gave them money and something to believe in. After that, it was simple. If he took one step forward, the lemmings would rush forward whether there was a cliff ahead or not.

“That’s… that’s just a common misfortune in this era! Not just elves suffer…”

“No! It is a misfortune only elves suffer. Small and fragile elves driven from the streets after facing society’s storms have no way to live. Cold and loneliness are not the end. Everyone looks down with contemptuous eyes, and evil orcs, who are no better than vagabonds themselves, chase us around wielding violence as if they are somehow better! That’s why we found a way to live. Is the struggle for survival an evil deed!”

The Forest’s Eldest Son gathered mana in his hand. The journalist, smelling the scent of ozone, tried to escape despite being tied up, but a teal light began to shimmer over her body. It was a sign that lightning would strike.

The Forest’s Firstborn showed no mercy. As he clenched his fist and activated the mana, there was a momentary flash. For an instant, it was as if a river of light connected from the sky to the ground. Only a lump of charcoal remained on the ground.

It was just a lump of charcoal that had lost both elven and human form, burned to ashes. The Forest’s Firstborn lightly stepped on the charcoal, crushing it. Cheers erupted from the elves gathered in front of the platform.

His son climbed onto the platform with him and began to shout. Though he was a foolish son, he definitely had talent for incitement.

“Behold the fate of this traitor! We can build a thousand-year kingdom for all elves, but this elf was tainted by foolish talk of coexistence and kicked away her chance to board that ark! We will swallow our tears, but even as we swallow our tears, we will punish the traitors! Just now, the Forest’s Firstborn did it himself, but now it’s time for us to do it with our own hands!”

The elves in front of the platform roared again. Two followers in robes brought a box they had placed behind the platform and opened it, revealing shotguns that even these followers could fire.

“Today! Let the sound of purification by our hands ring as loudly as the storm wrapped around us by the Forest’s Firstborn! Let it ring like the lightning that just struck! The Forest’s Firstborn is watching you! The one who will give us the safe and whole world that we elves yearn for wants this! Who are we!”

“We are those who follow the Forest’s Firstborn! We are his followers!”

Voices erupted as if they were having some religious experience. Everyone raised guns and ropes, and the son standing before them added fuel to the fire.

“Your voices are too weak! Is that the extent of your desire for the future! Who are we!”

“We are those who believe in his ideals! We are the masters of tomorrow!”

Fanaticism. President Clichy looked down at them with dignity. He understood but did not empathize. Masters of tomorrow. All he saw were foolish people who had been incited.

The original plan was to use these fools where needed anyway, so he didn’t need to worry much. The only sincere part of what he had said to the dead journalist was about the struggle for survival.

He would use even all this madness if it was necessary for the struggle for survival. I don’t know the future. I’ve abandoned the past. If this mad belief is needed to survive in this roaring era, I will gladly use it.

President Clichy’s son, already half-crazed, gave direction to the followers who were spewing hatred and disgust. He was clearly a talented child.

“And who do we want? Don’t we want the Forest’s Firstborn who will return the forest of the World Tree to our embrace! Let’s make our tomorrow grow like a forest! Let’s make thunder roar today! Let’s go to the city!”

That night, dozens of innocent orcs were killed. It was a common occurrence. What mattered was that two orc entrepreneurs who had tried to interfere with President Clichy’s meat processing industry were coincidentally among those dozens.