Chapter 128: The Face of the Empire The terror attack on the Royal Opera House was swept under the rug with unprecedented speed. Media coverage was restricted, and the full scale of the incident was downplayed—all under heavy pressure from the Imperial Palace.
They moved to ensure that Princess Justine's involvement in the incident never reached the public eye.
"Tracking the weapons is a nightmare. If they come from the West, they pass through Atelic; if from the East, Volska is the most likely route."
I am still investigating the remnants of the Gigantes.
However, tracking them is practically impossible. They are disguised as ordinary goods and loaded into containers; bribed customs officials look the other way during clearance, and the moment they cross the border, the documents are destroyed.
The payment also changes hands through untraceable physical assets or alias accounts, so...
Bang!
The door swung open violently.
One of my usually calm administrative officers stumbled in, his face pale as a ghost.
"Sir! The field agent sent to track the leads has been murdered!"
I stopped my pen.
The other officers in the office held their breath.
"..."
I remained still for a moment. The staff did the same.
It was a common occurrence. Nothing extraordinary. It was merely the death of one among the many agents I had scattered across the field.
"...For now, do not leak this to the outside."
The culprit likely didn't know he was one of my men.
If they had known, they would have attempted a negotiation or handled it more discreetly.
"Does he have a family?"
"Yes. A younger sibling and parents."
"Then today, we shall rewrite the protocol regarding staff who die during operations."
These people can die at any time, but their loyalty is forged by how I treat those who have devoted themselves to me and how I acknowledge their sacrifice.
I need people who are truly mine, and they must be willing to die for me.
"One million dollars. A lifetime pension for the bereaved. Full support for tuition and medical expenses for children or siblings. And if the family wishes, priority hiring at any company under my umbrella."
At the very least, until this world ends, those who devoted themselves to me and their families will live well.
"Go to the family and deliver the news."
Everyone nodded with heavy expressions.
".....And sir, there is one more telegram."
The officer handed over another document, shifting the atmosphere.
"The remodeling of the Arte Museum has been completed. Also, the author Victor Heim has finished a new musical script."
Where art was broken, new art takes its place.
The Royal Opera House had been destroyed far more severely than it had been before my regression, but in its place, a more modern facility would rise.
Knock, knock.
The office door opened cautiously.
I looked toward the entrance.
"Ah, I apologize. I know you are busy, but..."
The noble who owned the Royal Opera House and its director stood there, their faces tight with tension.
The noble looked at me, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief as if anxious.
"Well, I was told that you... were interested in purchasing the Royal Opera House, so I came in haste."
The building was half-destroyed by the terror attack. The repair costs were astronomical, and its reputation had hit rock bottom. To them, the Opera House was now a burdensome liability they couldn't handle.
But not to me.
While this was a bribe to get into the Princess's good graces, it was also a calculated move.
I had intended to acquire the place from the moment I anticipated the attack.
"Yes. I am interested."
I held out the documents I had prepared in advance.
"This is the contract."
The location of the Royal Opera House is excellent and spacious. It isn't easy to find real estate of that caliber in the heart of the Empire.
If I strip away the old interior and fill it with my capital, Lorenzo's technology, Dieter's financial management, and Victor Heim's content...
It will transform into a business that is more than profitable.
"What do you think? As a formality, I will leave you a 2% stake."
"Oh..."
The Count's eyes fixed on the amount in the contract. I didn't bother lowballing him. I matched the valuation from before the terror attack.
"This is very, very good. Let's... let's sign right away, Sir Maximilian."
Only those without money—or hyenas—look for weaknesses to exploit. A wealthy man has no need to create enemies just to save a few coins.
"Yes, let's do that."
And just like that, I made another noble my ally.
*
The Arte Museum. With its remodeling complete, it had already become the Empire's newest landmark.
"..."
Justine watched the scene from a car parked some distance away. Even though closing time was imminent, the entrance was swarming with people. The crowds that had flocked there since the opening showed no signs of thinning.
"There are too many people."
She muttered, furrowing her brow. No answer came; Yannick was dozing off in the driver's seat.
".....Fine. Go ahead and rot in your sleep."
He must have been exhausted from being chewed out over this whole situation.
Tick. Tock.
Time passed, the sun set completely, and by the time the last visitor had left and the museum closed...
The Princess stepped out of the car with Yannick.
"You've arrived."
Director Verdi greeted her in front of the main gate. She nodded silently and stepped inside.
The empty museum.
With all the lights off, the interior was submerged in pitch-black slumber.
"I can't see a thing."
Justine grumbled bluntly.
"Should I have come in the morning next time?"
"...No."
Director Verdi smiled.
"You will be able to see."
Snap.
He flicked his fingers.
Rumble.
The sound of the ceiling opening echoed. No, more accurately, it was the sound of countless mana stones suspended from the ceiling awakening simultaneously.
Like the break of dawn, or sunlight piercing through clouds, natural light settled softly throughout the entire space.
"..."
Justine's eyes widened slightly.
It wasn't artificial at all; it was a warm, soft, perfect natural light that didn't distort the essence of the colors. It was as gentle as if the sun itself had been moved into the museum's ceiling.
"It is the lighting," Director Verdi explained.
"The museum in the morning, the museum at noon, and the museum at sunset each have a different face. This is because the works look different depending on the angle and color temperature of the natural light."
He pointed to a painting on the wall.
"However, one cannot fully enjoy that beauty at night. That is why we introduced this system. An artificial sun that mimics the trajectory of the sun using mana stones."
Indeed.
To Justine, Verdi's words didn't quite add up.
At night, when that beauty cannot be fully enjoyed, the museum is closed. Therefore, such lighting is utterly useless.
Thus, this was a consideration intended solely for the one visitor who could only come at night.
"...Is that so."
Justine looked at the canvas bathed in light.
"You've spent money on something useless."
She spoke as if rebuking him, but her gaze never left the painting.
Director Verdi let out a low chuckle.
"Yes. It truly is, isn't it?"
Justine did not trust people. Rather, she loathed the very existence of humans.
Growing up in the pit that was the Imperial Palace, the lesson she learned was that 'there is no one you can trust.'
She knew now that behind every favor lies a price, and behind every smile, a blade is hidden.
Maximilian was likely no exception. All of this might be his political calculation, or flattery to win her favor.
However...
She walked slowly through the corridor where the light poured down. He had forced his way into the darkness of the night and insisted on making it bright.
At least for this moment, the calculated kindness didn't feel so bad.
*
In a remote back alley of the Volska District, in a shabby inn room without even a proper sign.
Hannah laid out the items she had recovered from the bodies of the weapon dealers.
"..."
Forged passports, fake IDs, bundles of cash, the dealers' terminals, and a few weapon catalogs and contracts they had likely intended to give her.
This was everything.
"Sigh."
Hannah let out a sigh and pulled her hat down.
It was confusing, but she couldn't just stay holed up in the room. She needed to get a handle on the situation.
She went down to the first-floor lobby. The old owner at the counter was fiddling with a radio frequency.
Crackle, hiss—
A broadcast mixed with static flowed out.
[....Suspect in the murder case that occurred in the downtown shopping district... presumed to be an Imperial woman... seeking witnesses.]
That was the gist of it, translated from the Volska language. Since she had learned it from the moment her business trip was decided, she could understand bits and pieces of the words.
Hannah picked up the receiver of the public phone in a corner of the hallway and dialed.
Ring... ring...
—Hello.
A familiar voice. It was Leon.
"Sir Leon. It's Hannah."
—Hannah, thank goodness. I was worried because I couldn't reach you. What's the situation?
"For now...... I have enough bullets to hold out, but have you heard the news?"
With about five million dollars in operation funds, she was confident she could survive in any country.
—I know. That's why an order has been issued for you to return to the home country.
"What about my staff?"
—I sent them back to the Empire safely. Don't worry.
Leon's tone was calm.
—You join them immediately. You still have the forged passport, right? Come to the harbor. I'll be waiting.
Hannah was about to breathe a sigh of relief, then she paused.
"Ah...."
It had leaked.
The meeting place and time she had arranged with those men had clearly been leaked to the 'unknown forces.'
How?
...There was a mole inside.
If so, even this communication wasn't safe. It wasn't that she didn't trust Leon. It meant that the mana waves of this very communication might be being intercepted.
Instead of going to the harbor, she said something else.
".....Sir. Then, when you leave, please stop by the office."
—Huh? Why?
"I think I left something important in my desk drawer because I left in such a hurry. Please check it for me."
—.......
Leon was silent for a moment. He, too, seemed to have grasped her intent.
—Understood.
Click.
The call ended. She hung up the public phone. She went back up to her room and examined the evidence.
"..."
Hannah's gaze drifted and landed on the catalog the weapon dealer had brought. A list of products they likely intended to show her.
Rustle. Rustle.
She paused while flipping through the catalog.
Photos of rifles and explosives printed on crude paper. The designs looked very familiar.
She peered closer, tracing them with her hand.
".....What was this?"
She hadn't seen them in person, but through textbooks. A crude but sturdy finish. A level of completion that couldn't be mimicked by amateurs.
A spark of realization struck Hannah.
".....Gigantes."
Slide.
Just then, she felt a presence outside. Hannah's brow twitched. She quietly closed her eyes. In that state, she spread out her sensory perception.
Step. Step.
They were hiding their footsteps, but the faint clinking of steel reached her.
Step. Step.
Hannah backed far away from the door.
A door is not a wall. Therefore...
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Rifle rounds poured in, riddling the door with holes. Hannah held her breath, gripping her dagger.
Ssshh.
The sound of people approaching through the debris.
The moment they all stepped inside, Hannah moved in a flash and slit all of their throats.
.....
In the dark night. At the border of Volska, in a corner of the pier where a damp sea breeze blew, Leon received a message from his family.
".....Is that so?"
He asked back dryly.
—Yes. From now on, the Direct Agency will take over. It's a mission more suited to them anyway, and a Knight has greater things to do.
His father's voice came through the terminal.
Leon was silent for a moment, then asked back with an indifferent tone.
"Then, what about the rookie?"
—Leave her. Since when did you care about a mere commoner like that?
"I suppose, but..."
Leon pursed his lips.
"Hmm."
The Askar family was a prestigious house in the Empire, but it seemed the opponent was even higher than them. Someone who could make such a demand of his father...
"An order must have come down from above."
The Imperial Palace, or an even greater Great House.
.......
His father was silent as if displeased, but he didn't deny it.
—You will understand someday.
Click. The communication cut off. Leon gave a bitter smile.
'I heard the Imperial Palace folks were wiretapping the Knights.'
The rumors were true. Eavesdropping was real, and this operation had been leaked from the start.
The mastermind behind the weapons wasn't far away. Rather, it was inside the Empire.
"..."
Leon looked at the night view of the city where Hannah was hiding.
A spitfire who had earned ten thousand dollars with nothing but her bare body in the Imperial backwoods. Someone like her would surely be able to make it out alive.
"Yes, well. Confirmed."
Leon turned around. Standing there were men in grey coats. Two agents from the Imperial Direct Agency. One of them scratched the back of his neck while putting away a terminal.
"Actually, Sir Leon. We are rather suspicious of that person named Hannah."
".....Of Hannah?"
"Yes. She received a huge sum of five million dollars from Sir Maximilian, and a murder occurred during a transaction that only the parties involved knew about."
The agent continued.
"Five million dollars from Sir Maximilian, and a strange murder case."
Leon smiled for a moment. It was a habit of his.
In an ambiguous situation where his expression might crumple, a smile usually worked.
"If that Knight got her hands on five million dollars and their weapons, wouldn't that be enough to start a small revolution?"
"Knight Hannah is a commoner. She has neither the guts nor the scale for that."
At Leon's rebuttal, the agent dug into that very point.
"Hey. Because she's a commoner, she's more likely to do it. A commoner without any backing being a Knight of the Sentinels in this day and age—something was strange from the start, wasn't it?"
Leon asked back nonchalantly.
"Are you a noble?"
At that moment, the agent's lips twitched.
"Haha...."
The agent forced a laugh and replied.
"I am not, but we also show courtesy to the nobility. To people like you, Sir Leon."
Leon read their disgusting desires. He hid a sigh behind his smiling eyes.
The Imperial Guard and the Direct Agency. The two groups were slowly merging. Commoners were gathering, coveting the privileges of the nobility, wielding power, and trying to act like aristocrats themselves.
There was no longer any point in talking.
"I understand for now."
Leon shrugged his shoulders.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Read 33 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
https://noveldex.io/series/semi-coercive-imperialist
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━