The Pulsations of Life (3)

Freugne had been enduring vexing days of late.

Having had her clothes stripped while concealing something, perhaps referring to her as the gray-garbed Demonic Tribe member would be more accurate. But for now, she persisted with the ‘man in the white suit’ moniker as she had obtained some information from him.

“It would be wise to answer obediently if you don’t wish to die.”

“Very well.”

“…?”

Contrary to expectations, after his final attempt to escape through death had been thwarted, he complied without resistance.

Freugne had tensed, assuming greater defiance from one resigned to death. However, the Demonic Tribe member calmly continued as if it were obvious.

“Regardless of whether I tried to flee or fought to the death, you would have stopped me either way.”

“I suppose that’s…true.”

“Then why needlessly take the long, winding path?”

Logically, he had a point. But were humans or Demonic Tribe members creatures governed solely by reason? How often did pride or selfishness lead them to upend the board?

However, if he chose to cooperate, there was no reason to refuse.

Her mentality was not so desolate as to sever his limbs one by one, separate from any personal resentment.

As Ulr returned the device he had dubbed the ‘Humility Implanter’ to storage, Freugne posed the question burning most intensely:

“How did you learn of my ability?”

“The Dark Lord himself informed us. There is nothing beyond his knowing.”

“Did he also foresee your capture?”

“That was merely my own carelessness, no fault of the Lord’s.”

Disregarding his words, he resembled the slum dwellers, as if brainwashed by the Dark Lord.

And upon further probing, that description was not entirely inaccurate – the Demonic Tribe was a collective partially indoctrinated by the Dark Lord.

For humans, the title of king was hereditary, passed down to children or, failing that, nephews.

But it differed for the Demonic Tribe. While some nobles still bequeathed their stations to their offspring, the position of Dark Lord had to be seized.

The power to unify the inherently headstrong Demonic Tribe into a nation-like entity.

“In the realm of mind magic, the Dark Lord has attained heights surpassing any predecessor.”

“And you can divulge this to a human like me?”

“You were destined to learn this eventually, so I was permitted to disclose it at my discretion.”

Thus, the Dark Lord was a title bestowed upon one possessing ‘the ability to forcibly unite the Demonic Tribe.’

Not an inherited position, but one directly seized by subjugating the minds of defiant Demonic Tribe members.

“And whether human or Demonic Tribe, the Lord can perceive one’s essence – their abilities, talents, and even thoughts.”

“Quite the troublesome power, it seems.”

“Hence the Lord recognized your talent and valued you highly. I trust this answers your query.”

She understood the gist. As the pinnacle of mind-bending magic among the Demonic Tribe, it was unsurprising the Dark Lord could discern someone’s future-witnessing abilities from the opposite end of the continent.

‘But he does not know everything.’

Such deceptive abilities inevitably harbored flaws.

While the man in the white suit had spoken partial truths, Freugne was almost certain he had concealed several facts.

If the Dark Lord truly knew all, then

he should have immediately threatened to widely disseminate information about her organization as the foremost ultimatum.

To claim the ability to instantly unravel her entire accumulated efforts, to sever all her limbs – even if impossible, such grandiose boasts were the basics of negotiation when dealing with the likes of Demonic Tribe. Yet the man in the white suit had remained silent regarding her organization.

He might know of her ability but not her aspirations. Or if aware, he was significantly underestimating its scale.

Just as she could not glimpse the future of someone distant without physical contact, the Dark Lord likely faced similar limitations.

“You cannot escape the Lord’s grasp.”

“We shall see about that.”

“No, you simply do not comprehend the Lord’s might yet. But if you truly can glimpse the future, you will soon understand!”

“Enough. That will be all for now.”

With those parting words, Freugne departed with Ulr, escorting the Demonic Tribe member to a makeshift prison on the city outskirts.

While she would need to investigate the Dark Lord further, her immediate curiosities had been satisfied.

The Demonic Tribe member’s ominous parting remark did leave her slightly unsettled.

Not so much fearful as…concerned. About the potential repercussions that could extend beyond herself to those around her.

And that was not the sole disturbance weighing on her mind.

“It seems rumors about our organization are circulating within the city.”

Ulr, whose routine involved frequenting back alleys for odd jobs that granted intimate access to raw gossip, made this observation less than a week after apprehending the man in the white suit.

“Could someone have leaked information?”

“Our members tend to be discreet, as you’ve demonstrated yourself.”

With the organization’s expansion, Freugne could no longer manage it single-handedly.

While lower-ranking members often had loose lips, they could barely distinguish whether they belonged to the kingdom’s clandestine power bloc or a mere martop cartel.

Any member with a vague grasp inevitably realized divulging information would prove unwise as they became cognizant of the organization’s profound ties to the kingdom’s core.

And for founding members like the Earl of Norton, whom Freugne had personally handpicked, insubordination was unthinkable – their reputations, power, and wealth stemmed directly from the information she provided.

However, there existed entities beyond Freugne’s ability to forcibly silence.

“There is an armed organization operating within Londinium!”

“They will rise together at the Dark Lord’s command!”

Some Demonic Tribe members had defiantly shouted such proclamations amid interrogations, attempting to sow further chaos within the city until their final moments.

While Freugne was uncertain how deeply her tendrils had penetrated Londinium, years of investigation had revealed the organization’s existence in some form.

She had concealed it well enough, but the subsequent cleanup had proven considerably troublesome.

“Mere drivel.”

“Oh? The police seemed unaware as well. Ha, hahaha!!”

“Gag that one. We need to help him regain his senses.”

While the superintendent had attempted a tactful suppression, the Demonic Tribe members’ words had still reached Parliament, causing some officials to visibly flinch.

Capitalists and entrepreneurs who had heard the rumors slightly later reacted similarly.

As Freugne did not convene evil council meetings akin to some nefarious pantheon, her subordinates would gather informally at clubhouses to propose agenda items.

Then, whichever of her confidants – be it Ulr, the Earl of Norton, or Superintendent Baldor – would relay the compiled results, an established protocol within this loosely operating organization.

During this cycle, Ulr reported:

“Some officials and entrepreneurs are growing uneasy.”

“But they lack any real understanding, so there’s no need to be overly concerned about the ramblings of captured Demonic Tribe members.”

“They seem to have some basis for it, making it difficult to simply brush aside.”

However, Freugne was not one to idly accept such circumstances.

“Then we’ll conduct a cursory investigation before attributing it to the Demonic Tribe’s efforts to sow discord. After all, their claims of still lurking within the city are blatant lies, so linking the two would be convenient.”

“Understood.”

While the Demonic Tribe members had not truly divulged everything, swaying public opinion slightly had become necessary under the circumstances.

By contacting the newspaper backed by the Earl of Norton’s influence, the incident was largely resolved.

Thus, after another busy day, Freugne returned home to find Edan unexpectedly present earlier than anticipated.

“I intend to travel to the Belfast Republic for a few months.”

“Ah, for work?”

“Correct. And regarding your living situation while I’m away…”

He seemed to have been dismissed early from the martop to make travel preparations.

So they would be separated for an extended period. Unable to endure three weeks without food, three days without water, or three minutes without air, Freugne – who could not last long without Edan – lightly bit her lower lip.

With the Demonic Tribe openly declaring her a target, his imminent departure left her uneasy.

“Would you perhaps like to join me?”

So when Edan posed that question, Freugne found herself nodding in agreement.

“Come to think of it, there was a promise I made long ago.”

“…Regarding that wager, you mean.”

“Yes. Would it be fitting for an adult to renege on such a vow? It may be belated, but I wish to uphold that promise now.”

The wager where she had staked his failed investment, with the reward being an overseas trip.

Truthfully, she had half-forgotten it, having harbored little expectation.

Yet she did not wish to be labeled an immature child.

While others fretted over their next meal, she had not grown so callous as to brazenly declare victory and demand the promised reward simply because her words had proven accurate.

But if he brought it up first, she could ask for nothing more.

It also seemed an opportune moment to tend to her organization’s burgeoning overseas expansion.

Simultaneously, she could assess whether their combined might could contend against the Demonic Tribe alongside the kingdom.