Semi-Coercive Imperialist

Episode (2)

Underground City – 「Tavern Qwanda」

Elje of Outcast leaned on the bar and sank into deep thought. A mercenary’s uncertain future. The mess on the surface. Most of all, the crushing uncertainty of their revenge.

“Worried?”

Behind the counter, Qwanda wiped a glass and asked offhandedly.

“Worried about what.”

Elje stretched on purpose, big and loose.

Qwanda smirked.

“So I hear even that knight got dragged into this?”

“…No. That knight backed off instead.”

“He pulled out?”

“Yeah.”

That was what Filty’s Super-Vision had caught. Mason Industries had worked the imperial household directly and forced the Sentinel Order to halt its investigation.

“Looks like even knights are no match. Those bastards climbed that high before we knew it.”

Elje gave a dry laugh and swirled her whiskey.

“They’re growing way faster than we are…”

A deep sigh escaped her.

Mason Industries. A monster that had taken up far too much of the western Empire’s economy, and their greatest enemy.

Without a word, Qwanda topped off her drink.

“Well, we knew what we were getting into.”

Elje turned on her stool and looked outside the tavern.

There were people in this underground city too. A lot of them. People pushed out from the surface, or people who had abandoned it themselves, packed together everywhere.

“I’ll keep going as long as it takes.”

The view underground was filthy. Sunlight barely reached it. Still, it was far purer and cleaner than the rotten hypocrisy up above.

At least down here, she could breathe easy.

“Elje. How’s Filty?”

Qwanda asked suddenly.

“I sent her to a hospital. Looks like she had a nervous breakdown.”

She had observed Maximilian for too long. She spent days shivering and saying, “Our eyes met,” so Elje cleared away every brush and sheet of paper.

“I see. Then she won’t be drawing comics for a while?”

“Probably not… What is this? Master, do you like Filty or something? Why do you keep asking?”

Qwanda smirked, then slipped a crumpled sheet over her shoulder.

“Here. The information you wanted.”

“…”

Elje’s face froze.

T24 researchers. Devils who had carried out brutally cruel human experiments on children.

No matter how she looked at it, she could not accept those bastards sleeping peacefully on the surface.

“You planning to do this one alone again?”

“You know my style. If people come with me, they just get in the way.”

Elje, the Cross Serial Killer.

She put real work into studying a target’s pattern and executing the kill. That was why she left no trace at the scene.

The others did not have that level of care, so they only got in her way.

“Haa…”

Elje unfolded the paper.

This target’s name was Gennady Gotel.

“Even his name sounds like trash.”

Back in the T24 days, the researchers were only called researchers, so their real names and profiles were unknown. But this one was different. He was the one her hatred clung to most deeply. A son of a bitch too beastly to call human.

“…Thanks, Qwan.”

Elje pinched the paper between her fingers and lifted her brows.

Qwanda gave a bitter smile and avoided her eyes.

* * *

For imperial knights, cover identities, disguises, and impersonation were all fully legal. So even if your true identity was exposed in the middle of a mission, you suffered no disadvantage. If someone leaked it from inside, that informant was punished instead.

On top of that, this undercover infiltration had been designed in detail. A new identity had been created for me, a distinguished scholar from Imperial Central University, and I had been formally hired with multiple letters of recommendation.

“Mr. Gert?”

Inside Mason Industries’ advanced research building, someone called my fake name.

“I am Senior Researcher Miro.”

“Yes. Nice to meet you. I’m Gert.”

Miro. Not a name I knew. That meant he was either not a war criminal, or had died before becoming one. The latter was more likely. Mason would be in chaos soon enough.

“This way.”

I followed him deeper into the research complex.

Grotesque scenes slid past behind the glass walls lining the corridor.

A monkey convulsing with patches of fur ripped out. A dolphin dying in a tank as its skin melted away. Countless animals caged behind iron bars, suffering as mana was force-injected into them.

Miro laughed softly.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“…Not really. I’ve seen worse.”

“Good.”

Still, there were no humans in sight. Not even traces of human experimentation. Naturally.

Research on humans had probably been handed off to T24 and run in total secrecy.

“We’re here.”

Miro stopped in front of an area marked [Lab Building B].

Hiss. The gate opened. Beyond it was a sterile white space.

“Mr. Gert, your major is… mana studies, correct?”

Miro asked while glancing at my resume.

“Yes. PhD in mana studies.”

“Any other specialization?”

“No. Advanced concentration in mana studies.”

I had actually studied mana theory. It had been a required core theory subject at Empire Point.

My knowledge level would not fall behind scholars. Activated residue analysis itself was a knight’s specialty, and constant self-development, including reading and study, was an obligation for me.

And behind all of it was the virus’s memory.

Any knowledge I had seen, I could pull out exactly when I wanted.

“Perfect timing, then.”

Miro led me farther inside.

“We have something that needs doing.”

He pointed at a booth sealed with special mana-stone glass. Inside was a red crystal the size of a finger joint.

“Take a look.”

A strange mana wavelength pulsed out from the crystal.

“What does it look like to you?”

Miro asked like he was testing me.

The mana particles radiating from the crystal, the chaotic afterimages. The virus inside me accepted that dissonance as a pure flow of mana. In that flow, it sensed something.

“If you don’t know, that’s fine. It’s a very difficult concept…”

Miro mistook my silence for ignorance and was about to start showing off.

“…A living being.”

A mana wave.

A virus pulse.

Heat rushed through me like blood surging into my brain, and certain pieces of information drove in sharply.

“This wave did not come from machinery or nature.”

I stared at the crystal trapped behind glass and spoke.

“It is a mana tremor emitted by a living being’s emotions, pain, and despair.”

Simply put, it was an attempt to recreate human elements through mana.

“Human emotion?”

Miro’s eyes widened.

“…Amazing. You saw that at first glance. Yes, that’s right. We extracted a living being’s emotions into crystal form.”

Emotions ignited mana. The more extreme they were, like negativity, destruction, and killing intent, the more violently that fire burned.

They had scraped up the mana vibrations produced at the instant emotions twisted.

Was this a trace of chasing the illusion called the Mana Engine?

Still, the Mana Engine had been impossible from the beginning. What had formed in this crystal was not the essence of emotion, but only a preserved fake of a moment.

No change, just one interval repeating forever, like a recorder on loop.

“Excellent. Better than expected. Then, Mr. Gert, record and analyze this wave. Schematizing and patterning mana wavelengths is important.”

Even so, if this was what they wanted, I could do the work. For now, I needed to earn their trust.

“Where is my station?”

“Ah, right this way.”

I was shown to a desk. A top-end computer sat on it, but I had no need for that.

I gripped a pen and, through the virus’s intuition, rapidly scribbled out the mana I had read.

“What are you…”

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

In no time, the crystal’s mana wave from moments ago was complete. Drawn by hand.

“I’m done.”

“…”

Miro picked up the paper. He stared blankly, then looked back at me and swallowed.

I gave him a relaxed smile.

“I’m a specialist in this kind of mana analysis.”

“For now, for now I’ll verify this and get back to you. Please keep working.”

Miro hurried off, unable to hide his confusion. But he quickly came back, asked how I had done it, and handed me more work. I schematized that perfectly too.

“What kind of person are you, exactly?”

His voice and gestures were full of disbelief. For some reason, I found it amusing.

“I’m just specialized in this field. It feels instinctive. People call it intuition.”

“…Good grief. I’ve never seen anyone like this. The last new hire couldn’t do this even after spending a full day on it.”

Anyway, I completed the tasks given to me as a researcher…

And another week passed.

* * *

Mason Research Institute, Core Zone.

“The researcher we hired this time is exceptional.”

Senior Researcher Miro set down the documents and spoke. The institute’s chief director, Gennady Gotel, nodded at the results on the monitor.

“Looks like it. The guy who did this finished all of it in one week?”

“Yes.”

“Total maniac. A complete maniac. Shouldn’t we call old man Essenbach? A genius just showed up.”

“He is also verified talent recommended by the Wilhelm Institute.”

Gennady turned off the monitor.

“If it’s a recommendation from Wilhelm, then his background and ideology should be reliable too.”

“Yes. His reputation among the researchers is good as well.”

“Hmm, got it. I’ll check him myself a little later.”

Gennady groaned and stood with his hands behind his back.

“Then I’m off. Contact me if anything comes up.”

“Yes.”

Miro bowed.

Late at night, Gennady left the Mason Industries lab, walked into the dark parking lot, and got into his car.

“Ah, I’m tired.”

He muttered to himself and turned the key.

Grrr.

The engine growled like a beast. As the head of the institute, he kept no driver. He always drove himself. He trusted no one.

Vroooom.

The car glided out of the parking lot and moved onto roads that had emptied out.

“Hoo.”

He took a deep breath and was just about to stomp the accelerator.

“Hello?”

A suddenly chilled, suppressed voice rolled from behind him.

“Move and your neck comes off.”

“…!”

Gennady’s breath stopped. A sharp wire stretched from the back seat and pressed against his neck.

Tight.

“Keep driving.”

There had been no sign, no trace. Gennady was shaken, but he gripped the wheel. Breathing fast, he felt the wire biting into his throat.

Tighter.

“Urk!”

He moved only his eyes and checked the rearview mirror. There was a woman in a cap. A face he had seen once before.

A former test subject.

“Khh…”

Her pupils stained dark red. Gennady stared at her. Soon, delight swelled into madness.

So you came here on your own feet after all.

“Ugh… heh, hehe.”

A twisted laugh leaked through Gennady’s teeth.

“Shut your mouth.”

Tighter. Elje pulled the wire harder.

“Heheh, heheh…”

But the laughter bubbling in Gennady’s throat did not stop.

“What are you grinning at? Disgusting. I’ll just cut your neck.”

“Khehhehehe… ha, ha!”

“You sick pervert bastard.”

Elje frowned. Crack. She tightened the wire, about to rip through his throat.

A faint mana wave brushed her mind.

Elje’s eyes flew wide.

KOOOONG!

Too late. A massive impact crashed down, and the entire back seat of the car was crushed.

Elje turned around. Beyond the torn car frame stood a giant monster made of machinery. Falkenrat wore a thin, unpleasant smile.

“…!”

Elje tried to pull up mana and counterattack, but Falkenrat’s mechanical arm was far faster.

Thud!

A single strike. Elje’s body folded like paper and she blacked out.

The situation was settled in an instant. Falkenrat tucked the unconscious Elje under his arm like baggage.

“Ah, my neck… hurts like hell.”

Good thing I had an artifact on in advance. My head almost got ripped off for real.

“Cough. Mr. Falken, how was my acting?”

Gennady got out of the car while pressing his bleeding neck to stop the blood. Falkenrat’s prosthetic eye looked down at him.

“Well, it was fine. Not that you care, right?”

Gennady muttered irritably and took out a crumpled sheet from his pocket. Flick. He tossed it to Falkenrat.

“Here.”

“What’s this?”

“That Qwanda guy, or whatever his name is. It’s the secret account of the tavern owner who runs their hideout.”

Qwanda, the master of the tavern where Outcast stayed.

The man had sold Elje out.

“Money was nice, but he asked us to save his daughter first. Said she has some incurable disease.”

“I’ll send people.”

“Yes. Thanks for your work.”

Leaving the wrecked car at the roadside, Gennady walked into the dark.

Falkenrat bent his knees again.

VROOOOOM!

With that leap, he flew hundreds of meters.

* * *

…I had been working nonstop. At this point I even wondered if I had chosen the wrong approach, but still.

“Um, Dr. Gert. Over here.”

“Could you check this form here?”

“Excuse me…”

At some point, the way people treated me in the lab began to shift.

“Dr. Gert!”

“Doctor.” That honorific came naturally now. I did not know why, but it sounded better than “Sir Knight.”

Maybe because it was a title I had never worn in my life.

“How should we interpret this unstable section of the wave?”

Thump.

The virus inside me reacted to the question first.

“Hmm.”

The virus accepted mana as mana. In other words, it understood mana waves through intuition. But there was a limit to translating that intuition into the language scholars used.

“Instead of forcing this section to connect… why not segment it? In other words, cut the flow.”

Because of that, my advice was easy and simple.

Grounded in the virus’s intuition, it was highly direct.

“…Ah! Segmentation!”

Even raw explanations clicked for the researchers instantly.

“We’ll run a simulation!”

“Oh…! As expected, Dr. Gert!”

It felt like I was helping Mason grow, but it did not matter.

Mason Industries would not survive this year. It would be destroyed, and I would break apart the patents, research data, and organizational structures they had built, then swallow only the useful parts.

“Thank you, Doctor!”

“Yes, good work.”

“Um… Doctor…?”

One researcher would leave in awe, then another would immediately arrive at my desk with a report.

A bizarre situation, and it had happened in less than two weeks since I took this undercover job.

“Dr. Gert, did you come straight from the university? Your insight is incredible.”

“No, not really. I worked at the Wilhelm Society before… and I had many chances to study mana across different countries on the continent.”

I was loosely padding out my background when.

Knock, knock.

Someone tapped my desk partition.

It was Senior Researcher Miro.

“Dr. Gert.”

His voice was lower than usual.

“There is separate work to do.”

“…What is it?”

“A test subject just came in… first, come this way.”

Miro trailed off and gestured. He wanted to speak one on one.

“Yes.”

In my head, I knew the real episode had begun.