Chapter 116: The Meaning of Politics (2) The National University of the Progen Republic.
The College of Liberal Arts and Sciences was abuzz with talk of the Empire's cartel liquidation operation, codenamed "Dream Road."
Some argued that even for the Empire, this was a step too far—a tyrannical act that could easily escalate into war. Others found it gratifying, claiming that drugs had been the root of the problem all along, that those Eastern bastards deserved a good thrashing, and that the Empire had simply cleaned up the vermin for them.
Amidst these clashing opinions, Professor Jean Pierre stood at the lecture hall podium.
"Another event has been added to history."
This was for a newly established course: History as Told Through Figures.
"And in the end, it is individuals who cause events."
He opened the lecture with a brief commentary on the recent incident.
"First, let us look at the Sentinels' position."
The Sentinel Knights' official statement was projected onto the screen. The text, written in the original Imperial tongue, declared that they had decapitated the cartel's core leadership overnight as revenge for the torture and murder of a former Sentinel knight.
"'Dream Road' was carried out exactly like a dream. The Berkina government didn't even realize the Sentinels had entered their territory until it was all over."
The incompetence of the Berkina government was legendary. Their corruption, fueled by cartel bribes, had been an open secret for ages, but this time was different.
"The timeline estimated by outside observers is as follows..."
For ninety minutes, Jean Pierre detailed the background and progression of the operation, weaving in his own deductions. The students were captivated by his lecture.
"—Now, having heard all this."
Jean Pierre suddenly raised a finger.
"Doesn't something seem a bit strange?"
The students looked puzzled, but the professor continued calmly.
"This operation was like taking a pinch of salt..."
He opened a salt shaker he had brought from the cafeteria and took a pinch between his thumb and forefinger.
"...and sprinkling it precisely onto a festering, rotten wound."
Flick. Flick.
He scattered the salt into the air.
"An extremely restrained use of force. There were zero civilian casualties. They cleanly erased only those associated with the cartel."
Most of the students still looked like they didn't quite get it.
Jean Pierre arched an eyebrow.
"Let me rephrase. The use of force was extremely controlled, and there was no collateral damage. The knights were clearly fueled by rage, yet their executions were remarkably rational. Because of that, quite a few civilian witnesses were left behind."
He slowly scanned the room.
"You must find the commonality here. Only then can you call yourselves students of history. Your hint: this past spring."
A brief silence followed.
Soon, someone tentatively raised a hand.
"...Could it be Genen?"
Jean Pierre pointed at him and nodded.
"Correct."
The suppression of the Genen Autonomous Region and Dream Road.
The 'nature' of these two events was strikingly similar.
The method of deploying overwhelming force that the opponent cannot resist, yet exercising extreme restraint and control to maximize nothing but pure terror.
"A commander is responsible for designing an operation."
As Jean Pierre continued his lecture, a faint silhouette suddenly flickered before his eyes. The image of a Sentinel knight's uniform shimmered in his mind.
"Whether they try to hide it or not, a unique personality is left behind in the style and pattern of an operation, like a fingerprint. Therefore, if you trace it carefully..."
The figure was shrouded in darkness, but if one looked closely...
"You discover the entity who designed and executed this operation from the start—"
A faint, blonde figure appeared.
"—a historical figure."
Jean Pierre wrote a name on the chalkboard.
[ Maximilian von Ebenholtz ]
The Monster of Ebenholtz.
"The Sentinels have vividly demonstrated the power of the Imperial Knights. Now, not just Berkina, but almost every criminal organization on the continent won't even dare to think of touching an Imperial knight."
Except, of course, for a few insane groups—like 'Gentra.'
"But will Berkina and the cartels themselves actually change?"
Jean Pierre was skeptical.
They wouldn't change. Human greed is infinite, and the cartels were no different. In the vacuum left by the purged evil, smaller, more vicious thugs would scramble to take over and pour out more drugs.
"That is your assignment. Describe from your own perspective how Berkina and its ecosystem will change now that the 'figures' making up the cartel have vanished. Dismissed."
After finishing the lecture, Jean Pierre turned away. The moment he opened the door and stepped outside—
"…!"
He flinched and stopped in his tracks. A blonde student was standing right in the hallway. He was a man of similar height to Maximilian.
"...Professor? Are you alright?" the student asked, looking puzzled.
Jean Pierre shook his head, breaking into a cold sweat.
"Ah, yes. I'm fine."
The memories of that day were still vivid.
The chill he felt the moment the man had offered a handshake and introduced himself. The terror of sensing the 'darkness' lurking beneath that brilliant, beautiful exterior.
It seemed that blonde hair had left Jean Pierre with something akin to PTSD.
Jean Pierre walked down the hallway with a bitter smile.
*
Anton, the Vice Commander of the Sentinels, looked out the window. A long line of vehicles stretched toward the main gate of the Knights' headquarters.
They were all those who had been summoned.
"It's a fine thing," Chiron remarked.
"The Sentinels have eradicated the corruption of the Empire and the drugs of the East. The prestige of our order has never been higher."
Anton turned to look at him. Sitting across the desk were High Knights Chiron and Adria. Anton replied with a wry smile.
"I suppose so."
"..."
Chiron didn't seem to like Anton's lukewarm reaction.
"Vice Commander. What exactly are you so worried about?"
"Because they're just going to keep cutting off the tails indefinitely. Isn't that right?" Adria shot back. A hollow laugh escaped Chiron's lips.
"The tail? Is Goebel just a tail?"
"Goebel hasn't even responded to the summons yet. And even if he does, who knows what kind of deals will be made inside?"
She had hit the mark, but Chiron maintained his smile without showing it.
"Are you jealous? There's really no need to be."
"There's no need for jealousy. You lot don't share information with us anyway."
"You lot?" Chiron furrowed his brow. "Since when did the Sentinels start dividing into 'us' and 'them'?"
"Don't make me laugh. You were the one who started—"
"Adria," Anton interjected with a stern voice, stopping her.
"..."
Adria bit her lip and lowered her head.
"Both of you, leave. Commander Eberich has ordered us not to overlook this incident, so see to it that it's concluded properly."
Anton waved them away. Chiron and Adria stood up from their chairs in unison. After a polite bow, they left the Vice Commander's office.
Thud.
As soon as the door closed, Chiron let out a smirk.
"...Adria. Don't obsess over illusions like factions."
"You're the one who created the factions first, Chiron."
"Still, we're all Sentinels. Didn't I share some of the materials from this case with you?"
Chiron had willingly distributed some of the contents from the cartel ledgers to Adria's side. Of course, it was only the low-level stuff that hardly counted as an achievement.
"How shameless. You filled the entire operation with your own people. Did you think I wouldn't notice? That incident, Julian was the one who—"
"How many times do I have to tell you? It was out of concern for information leaks. Oh, and do you know what this is?"
Chiron pulled a piece of equipment from his coat that was folded like a piece of fabric.
"It's a wingsuit. The latest model. We used it in this operation."
"..."
"With just one press of a button, it equips instantly."
"..."
"Want to see?"
Adria stared at him, her face going blank for a moment.
"...Are you bragging?"
"...Ahem."
Chiron cleared his throat, looking embarrassed.
"Just thought you should know. Since you weren't there that day."
"Ha. How incredibly childish. You haven't changed a bit."
Adria shook her head and walked away toward her own faction, Jerome's side.
Left alone, Chiron was approached by Fried, Reynel, and Zionne.
"...What did they say?" Reynel asked with a serious expression.
Chiron tucked the wingsuit back into his inner pocket and smirked.
"Ignore them."
It was only a matter of time. The moment Anton was ousted, their support would crumble, and the central axis of the Knights would firmly tilt toward 'us.'
*
Based on the evidence from the ledgers decrypted in Kanilan, I issued a series of 'Summons,' a prerogative of the knights. I started by rounding up the small-fry nobles of the Imperial Palace whose crimes were particularly heinous, along with their associates, parliamentary officials, and high-ranking civil servants from the Eastern Empire.
These were people who resided in the palace but were neither royalty nor at the core of power—parasites who hovered around the edges, picking up crumbs. Despite their mediocre status, they were the type to be exceptionally cruel to civilians.
Their reactions were a sight to behold.
"I—I—I can explain this money! I swear, it's not a bribe!"
"This is perfectly legitimate! It's the rightful profit from my private business! Please, check the ledgers again!"
I listened to everything they had to say.
"It's money I received from a relative! An inheritance! An inheritance, I tell you!"
"I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry! Please, just this once, forgive me, Sir Knight!"
I listened quietly to their dog-like whimpering.
"Ah~ it might be confusing, but if you look here... it's different. The source of the funds, I mean."
"I didn't know it was dirty money from the cartel. I really didn't!"
Afterward, I delivered the same message to all of them.
"—You will be referred to the Knight Court."
The Knight Court.
In an instant, their faces turned ashen.
Some turned blue and gasped for air, others knelt and trembled before fainting outright, and some even foamed at the mouth in fits... It was a diverse display of disgrace.
"Drag them out."
"Yes, sir."
The clerks imprisoned them in the Sentinel dungeons.
As I organized the documents, I asked, "What about Goebel?"
"Ah, we just received word. He requested to postpone the summons for a few days due to an urgent official schedule—"
"Not even a second."
It was an obvious ploy to buy time, and I had no intention of granting it.
"It cannot be delayed. Tell him that if he does not appear by 15:00 on the 30th..."
I tapped the summons with the tip of my pen.
"...I will go and arrest him personally."
*
"You. Do you even know who I am?"
In a Sentinel interrogation room, Hannah, a first-year rookie knight, pressed her fingers against her temples as she stared at the noble sitting across from her.
"I know. You're Mr. Versen von Dredic."
"Then change the investigating knight. We're not of the same rank."
"I'm a knight too, you know. I even participated in Operation Dream Road."
The man turned his head away with a snort.
"Commoners, get out. I'm not talking to you."
"..."
He had been pulling this crap for a while now, and her temper was starting to flare. Steam was practically coming out of her head. He'd taken bribes, yet he was acting so damn entitled.
"I told you to get out."
"...Ha. What the hell."
Hannah eventually left the interrogation room. Her desk was right in front of the door, and the clerks and administrative officers were huddled around it. Being a rookie, her workspace was a bit cramped.
"Sir Knight. How is it going?"
"He's completely impossible to talk to. I'm going to go get some fresh air."
Steaming, she walked outside and saw a massive crowd. Summoned nobles, officials, parliamentarians, and even their families.
"Ugh, this is so frustrating..."
Just as she was heading to the back garden, wondering if she should take up smoking, Tiana approached her.
"Hannah? Is something wrong?"
Tiana was the only person in this suffocating Sentinel headquarters she could lean on.
"Ah, Sir Tiana. It's nothing much, and I'm not trying to complain, but..."
Hannah sighed and explained what had just happened. Tiana gave a soft laugh.
"Ah~ I know what that's like. Nobles have a bit of a victim complex."
"...Nobles have a victim complex?"
"I mean, I'm a noble too, but it is pretty pathetic. They're the ones who look down on commoners first, but then they assume a commoner will automatically hate them, so they refuse to be investigated by you. It's not just that they despise you; they're scared."
Hannah scratched the back of her neck.
"So he wants a change, and I'm just going to give it to him. This job is too much trouble."
"Hmm..." Tiana thought for a moment, her eyes sparkling. "Are you just going to let him run away like that?"
"Well, if he'd at least listen, I'd try, but he won't even pretend to."
"If he won't listen to words, you have to give him a taste of hell."
"Hell?"
"Yes."
Tiana pulled out a notebook and pen and scribbled a line.
"Here. My signature. Go show him this. Tell him that since he doesn't want you investigating him, you're transferring the case to someone 'higher up.'"
Hannah took the paper.
"I bet he'll be begging you to investigate him then."
[ Case Transfer Request ]
Hannah looked at the bottom of the simple sentence.
The recipient of the case transfer was 'Maximilian von Ebenholtz.'
*
The Knight Court is different from a regular court. It is a special trial where a judge delivers a summary judgment based on the evidence and opinions collected by the investigating knight, without the assistance of defense counsel or a jury's verdict.
In effect, the knight's will becomes the verdict.
Because of this, the Imperial Palace was quietly turned upside down. They couldn't make a scene out of fear of the Imperial family's reaction, but screams were erupting beneath the surface.
What if the money they had received through various favors was tainted by drugs? Or what if they had unknowingly accepted a bribe from the cartel?
To make matters worse, a summons had been issued to Goebel, the Captain of the Imperial Guard who was closest to the palace, as well as his subordinates.
The palace would obviously be next.
—In Reutern II's villa.
"...Reutern. I've heard rumors that you have a connection with Maximilian."
Thanks to this, Reutern II had been dealing with quite a headache lately, though he also felt a bit of pride.
"Well... I suppose?"
"That you're on... speaking terms, so to speak..."
The palace nobles were coming to him, begging for help.
It wasn't just one or two. If he were to crack the door open right now, he'd see nobles and officials lining up without exception.
"I mean, I guess you could say that, but..."
Reutern II crossed his legs with an air of arrogance.
"Please! Then please, just help me out this once! I was momentarily blinded and made a mistake. I didn't even receive much! It was really just a pittance!"
"No, the thing is... Max. My friend Max is... well, even I find him a bit difficult to deal with. You know how he is. He's not the type to listen just because I say something..."
He intentionally emphasized the name 'Max.'
"If you're the one asking, Reutern, I'm sure he'll at least listen! I believe in you—"
"But more importantly."
Suddenly, Reutern II's brow furrowed.
Surprisingly, Reutern had never taken any money from the cartel.
It wasn't because he was clean.
It was because those crazy, trashy bastards had taken it all for themselves in secret. They hadn't said a word to him and had split it among themselves.
"...Why didn't I know? Such a grave fact—that black money was flowing into the palace."
"Wh-what?"
"Why didn't I know?"
"...Um?"
"I'm asking you."
"Uh..." The other man stammered, breaking into a cold sweat.
"Speak."
"I-I'm sorry. It's all because of that Roel. He said that you..."
"The reason." Reutern asked again, his face turning serious. "I'm asking for the reason. Why was I the only one left out?"
"...Roel... Roel said... that you were loose-lipped—"
"Ha! Whaaaat!!!!"
Reutern II trembled with a sense of betrayal. A sudden wave of dizziness hit him, and he leaned back against his chair.
How dare they call me, the palace's top source of information, loose-lipped?
"...I'm loose-lipped? Me?!"
"No, no. I don't think so, of course. I'm telling you those guys said it! That Roel and the Imperial Guard bastards dragged us all into this!"
"Enough. Get out!"
"B-but Reutern!"
"Before I tell my dad on all of you."
Reutern rejected the plea with a solemn expression.
"You're out!"
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