Chapter 40: Chapter 40: Call to Action
The morning unfolded.
Last night, Vikir had dozed off in the inn across the street from the city judge's office after his night shift.
Realizing that, the Chihuahua was there promptly in the early part of the day.
"Hey, sleepy right-hand official. The sun is already up, it's the perfect time for you to go to work... uhhhhhhhh!?"
Before the Chihuahua could finish his morning greeting, he let out an odd scream.
There was blood everywhere.
Blood, blood, blood, splattering down the white sheets and staining the marble tiles on the floor in a macabre pattern.
The walls, the ceiling, the bed, all soaked in blood.
"Ah. Good morning, sir."
Vikir rose from the bed with an excess of nonchalance.
From his tired expression, it was clear he had been sleeping just moments before.
And on the bed beneath him lay a body, head and torso severed.
A blade was clutched in the hand of a dark-clothed man, evidently a professional assassin.
Vikir glanced at the assassin's body on the floor.
"Hmm? I don't remember him; he must have killed me in my sleep."
"Zee, is that true?"
"Of course not. It's a light-hearted jest."
Vikir attempted to make his own joke, thinking, "Can't a 15-year-old be this lively?" but the Chihuahua didn't seem to realize it was a joke regardless.
"Anyway, Your Excellency... What kind of upbringing did you have back home?"
"Was it not much fun?"
"No, it was far from a matter of fun..."
The Chihuahua seemed to be somewhat surprised.
Vikir shook his head with dismay.
"I've been getting a lot of these visits lately."
Two injured arrows, four injured blades, six street ambushes, stabbings, sulfuric acid spraying, assassination attempts, illegal fires, carriage smashing, and so on... All within the last three days.
This was the latest assassin to enter his room, but even he was no match for Vikir.
Every hero who had survived the Hour of Obliteration had become adept at detecting the assassins around them in their sleep, and Vikir was no different.
"Hmph. I guess I should look on the bright side. It means I'm getting noticed, right?"
"You are very brave, sir."
"You're rude to your superiors, sir."
I retorted nonchalantly and went to put on my robe.
The Chihuahua stuck out its tongue as Vikir casually followed her out of the room.
"Seeing you, it's hard to believe you're really 15 years old."
"Where's the blood in that?"
"Even if it is Baskerville blood... I mean, weren't the rest of the Baskervilles like this too, and the former Archon was..."
The Chihuahua continued to prattle, but Vikir was already tuning out his words.
After all, his mind was on the results from his last illegal deals management firm heist.
<Gorge Fly 'Beelzebub'>/Drill
-1 slot: Consume - Cerberus (A+)
-2 slots: Gag - Wicked Buffalo (A)
Slot - 3: Channel - Hellhound (B+)
Enchantment Blade Lucifer.
This peculiar blade, which devours and absorbs the powers of those it kills, was infused with the power of Murcielago the Evil Buffalo, a beast he encountered at the deal house some time ago.
The brute's C+-rated danger ability, Extremely Rapid Recovery, was gone, replaced by the evil buffalo's Tight Throat Breath.
While "Extremely Rapid Recovery" is an ability to repair a damaged body, "Tight Throat Breath" is much more versatile, as it makes the body so tough and resilient that it cannot be harmed even momentarily.
However, the Evil Buffalo was a high-level beast that outclassed a brute, so it was no surprise its effects were superior.
'I didn't realize there was a Class A evil body in the deal house; I'm lucky.'
After consuming it, he was able to easily overpower the assassin who came yesterday.
The assassin who had infiltrated the palace the previous night was a Steady.
Although he was only a low-ranked Slow, Vikir remembered that he exuded an aura that was as raw as liquid.
It was a formidable attack, and the blade barely penetrated my chest.
But thanks to a synergistic combination of the protection of the River Styx and the resilience of the Evil Buffalo, Vikir's body was left with only a faint scar.
The assassin himself would never have known.
"Mu, whose body is so tough...!?
Little did he know that these would be his last words.
"I will find out who's behind these assassins and shut them down."
"That's commendable."
In fact, although he hadn't informed the Chihuahua, Vikir was considering resigning from his position as deputy justice after this mission was completed.
Just like Xindiwendi had advised him not long ago.
Suddenly.
Something ended up supporting Vikir's plans.
The call came from Baskerville itself.
A massive black carriage stood before the city gate.
A luxurious carriage adorned with the Baskervilles' emblem.
Arriving in the city early in the morning was a man Vicky knew well.
Senior John Barrymore, who had come to personally see Vikir.
"Master. It's been far too long."
"I see, Priest. You look well."
Senior Barrymore beamed at Vikir's response.
"Look at that. Didn't I tell you when you left that you could do well?"
The gossip about the rest of the world had reached the main house.
They were about the unexpectedly competent city's new deputy justice.
"Lucky in many ways. The timing was right."
But the gossip himself remained unusually modest.
Senior Barrymore then, revealed the reason behind his visit.
"My lord is looking for you. Apparently, he really wants a detailed report on this incident."
"If it was a report, I would have already submitted it in writing."
"Haha, isn't it different when your child comes and tells you face to face?"
After speaking, Barrymore stroked his mustache and squinted his eyes.
"You're so resilient. I've never seen you smile like that."
* * *
Hugo Les Baskervilles.
He was currently seated at his patriarch's desk, his expression somber.
But Vikir could sense an otherworldly quality emanating from him.
It was.
"Extraordinary, lad."
It was unusually warm.
Hugo placed the current morning newspaper directly in front of him.
<Longshot City's favorite person among residents is Vikir, ranked number one>.
<Vikir, the most trusted person by merchants in Longshot City, ranked number one>.
<Vikir is the top pick of the workers of Surprisingly Competent City, ranked number one>.
<Vikir is the most admired person by children in Longshot City, ranked number one>.
<Vikir is the top choice of intellectuals in the Longshot City, ranked number one>.
<Longshot City's most wanted assassin to kill is Vikir>.
...
The results of the residents' popularity survey were on the front page of the newspaper.
"You
've worked hard."
"You did what you needed to do."
"There are plenty of slackers out there who can't do what they should do."
Hugo looked at Vikir, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Slave trading is a crime deserving of death for both buyer and seller. Your actions have been recognized by the High Court."
"I'm honored."
"This is your chance to dispel the myth that Baskervilles are only skilled with a sword and lacking in intellect. You've done well."
Vikir's outstanding leadership, his dedication to upholding the law, set a precedent for all the cities under the Baskervilles' influence, and even for the noble family itself.
Hugo's unconventional approach was rewarded by Vikir's exceptional performance.
One of the Baskervilles' customs is to reward diligence and discipline.
If you do well, you get rewarded; if you don't, you get punished.
Vikir had indeed worked hard and deserved to be rewarded accordingly.
And today, Hugo had brought Vikir to the main house to discuss the reward.
"Admission to the Academy."
The Colosseo, the Grand Academy, where every noble in the realm aspired to enter.
Upon hearing that, Vikir inquired.
"Isn't it customary to enter the academy at 20 years old?"
"Assuming that you're good enough, there's no age limit. You can be an early bird or a late bloomer, as long as you meet the following conditions: at least 25 years old when you enter and at least 30 years old when you graduate."
"... I will meet your expectations."
Vikir responded with a short affirmation.
Hmm?
Hugo, who would normally have concluded the conversation at this point, showed an unusual eagerness to continue.
"I'm sending a few people, including you, to the Academy, but I haven't finalized the selections yet."
"...?"
"Do you have any close relatives who should go with you?"
The question was quite unexpected. Didn't it sound like something a father would ask his son?
"Uh-oh. You're a father.
But then Vikir remembered something he had forgotten himself.
He is Hugo's son, after all.
He hadn't been treated like a son for so long that he had forgotten.
Vikir hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
"I'm close friends with the triplets, Highbrow, Middlebrow, and Lowbrow."
What difference does it make if they're close friends, if you want them around, they're close friends.
"... Is that so?"
Hugo's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he nodded in understanding.
"I'll remember that."
That was the end of the conversation about the academy.
Vikir had just finished his chaplaincy and was about to leave.
"Oh, by the way. Son, wait a moment."
"...?"
Vikir halted abruptly and turned around, and Hugo rose from his seat as well.
Then he spoke in a gentle tone.
"I've been studying the laws of your city."
"They are... young."
"You've made many changes to the provincial regulations. You've done a very commendable job."
"That's very flattering."
Vikir had once overhauled the laws governing the vast estates on the outskirts of Surprisingly Competent City, in the area where the Red and Black Mountains met in the lower reaches and vast plains.
In addition to the ruby mines, there are numerous fields of sugarcane, tobacco, cotton, and other crops.
They were mostly worked by savage prisoners.
Is that why? The savages who occasionally crossed the border often allocated farms on the outskirts of Longshot City.
Hugo said.
"Could you take a brief tour of the area before you enter the Academy? See if the laws you've laid down are being adhered to. It would be valuable experience."
"As you wish."
Vikir agreed, though somewhat reluctant to comply.
Then.
Hugo, who had been watching the scene with satisfaction, suddenly asked.
"By the way, are you going alone?"
"...?"
Vikir scratched his head.
So he's going on a regional tour alone?
Again, just as Vikir looked at Hugo with a puzzled expression, he sank back into his seat and spoke in a casual tone.
"This is a joint operation."
At Hugo's words, Vikir remained silent. It meant he needed a bit more explanation.
Understanding that, Hugo became more serious.
"Do you remember the plan you devised when you were eight years old? The one about the ruby mine."
"... Of course. I seem to recall it involved leasing the Ruby Mines area to the Morg and driving the savages toward it, keeping the two groups separate and blameless."
Also known as the massacre plan.
The idea was that in order to expand their territory, they'd have to deal with the monsters anyway, so they might as well use the Morg to get rid of them.
Hugo's mouth twisted into a wry smile.
"The plan worked."
"And by 'worked', you mean...?"
"The Morg made the initial proposal. Incredibly smooth."
Hugo hadn't looked this pleased in a long time.
He turned to Vikir.
"They're discussing a joint operation to burn it down."
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