Flynn's voice rose and fell with practiced ease, every beat perfectly placed. In the dim, silent cargo hold, the way he told it gave his words an oddly compelling pull. The captain found himself following along almost in spite of himself, slipping into the story as though he were living it.
By the time Flynn reached the final question, the answer nearly came out on instinct.
Of course there's something wrong.
And because it all felt so real, the captain realized the next instant what that meant.
The story was absurd.
Absurd in exactly the way a true story often was.
No, more than that, it had to be a true story.
Certain of it, his face darkened at once. He took a sudden step forward as if ready to rush in and settle things by force, but the moment one foot crossed the threshold, he stopped dead. Then, grinding out each word, he said:
"You... played me?"
Flynn's expression did not change. But the sword in his hand was already unsheathed, its point hanging steadily downward over the stack of cargo beside him.
That was why the captain had stopped.
He was confident he could take Flynn and Escoffier down, but those crates and the bottles of Sinthe packed inside would not withstand a blade. If things went badly, at least thirty percent of the cargo in this hold would be lost.
And in the captain's view, this ship was his domain, his absolute home ground. On the other hand, the two of them were already trapped beasts in a cage. In a place like this, even jumping overboard to gamble on survival was impossible. Since victory was in hand, he had no desire to take excessive losses. Delaying a little longer cost him nothing.
Flynn naturally understood his thinking. But whether it was the situation itself or the man's assumptions, he had no interest in correcting any of the errors in them.
As for stalling for time...
Well, that happened to be what he wanted too.
"I played you?"
Shadowed by the gloom, Flynn lowered his eyes slightly.
"All right, all right."
"Actually, I have a special kind of perception. Ever since I boarded, I've known everything you and your men have been saying to each other. How's that explanation?"
Something shifted in the captain's face.
That explanation sounded far more credible, but after the complete nonsense Flynn had spouted earlier, he did not take it seriously.
"Is that so?"
His answer was noncommittal.
"Then I suppose you also know why I set my sights on you?"
If he had believed Flynn, that might have been a probing question.
But he did not believe him, so it was only an offhand reply.
And yet...
"Of course. Escoffier."
Flynn casually spoke the piece of information the captain had been certain he could not possibly know. Then, with clear mockery in his tone, he continued:
"Even I didn't expect that running into a bunch of scum smuggling Sinthe would somehow connect to the serial disappearances of young girls from back then."
Clack.
The sound came from the lantern in the captain's hand.
He had not expected Flynn to be telling the truth, nor that he would know this much. For an instant, his composure slipped, and the movement gave him away.
But someone reacted even more strongly than he did.
"The serial disappearances of young girls?!"
Behind Flynn, Escoffier went rigid in shock.
That case was widely known in Fontaine. Its impact had been enormous. It was just that no new leads had surfaced in years, and people only brought it up now and then as old gossip. She had never imagined she would run into one of the suspects here.
And worse, that he had chosen her as the next target.
"Flynn, you mean he's the murderer behind the serial disappearances?"
Escoffier kept herself calm with the help of Cryo, showing no rashness at all. Her first instinct was to confirm the accuracy of the information with him.
"Mm..."
Flynn paused briefly, then shook his head.
"Not exactly the murderer. At most, an accomplice."
"As for the one behind it all, I doubt he knows."
Escoffier's thoughts stirred.
Because of the understanding between them, she felt at once that his words were not as simple as they sounded.
I doubt he knows did not mean I don't know.
Still, since Flynn had chosen not to say more right now, she had no intention of pressing him. She merely continued gathering Cryo in silence, ready to unleash a freezing strike at any moment.
On the other side, the captain quietly let out a breath of relief, then almost found the whole thing laughable.
All he had done in the captain's cabin was tell his men that Escoffier was one of the names on the "high-quality list" from above, and that she had to be captured unharmed and delivered as ordered.
He must have said a little too much. That was probably how Flynn had pieced together the link to the serial disappearance case from those details.
As for the identity of the one behind it all?
He did not know it himself.
How could Flynn possibly know?
But once he calmed down, the last of his patience vanished.
Considering how seriously those above treated secrecy, this counted as a leak no matter how it had happened. If he failed to handle it properly, the punishment waiting for him when he returned would be unimaginably brutal.
So to avoid complications, there could be no more delay.
He had to subdue them quickly.
"Mr. Flynn, in this world, knowing too much is often not a good thing..."
His voice turned low and heavy as he took another slow half-step forward, now fully resolved.
Flynn behaved as though he had not seen it. The hand holding the sword did not move in the slightest, and his tone remained as easy as ever.
"Thanks for the reminder. Unfortunately, I already know it, and I can't exactly forget it now."
"Luckily, I'm a cautious person. I'm very tight-lipped. I know what should be said, and what shouldn't."
The captain gave a cold laugh.
"Oh? That's not the impression I got."
A trace of regret entered Flynn's voice, light and almost playful.
"That's because your level is too low, probably. The things we were just talking about, for example, aren't really the kind of secrets that matter all that much. Saying them is no big deal."
"What, you don't believe me? Can't help that. If your name happened to be Zandik or Dottore, I wouldn't mind reciting something interesting on the spot to prove it."
"But sadly, there is no such if. Though for me, that's actually something worth being grateful for. Maybe for you too. Oh, and don't ask who Zandik or Dottore are. Trust me, you do not want to know."
The captain did not answer at once.
He was waiting.
The men who had already arrived outside were making their final preparations.
A little over ten seconds later, everything was ready. Only then did the captain finally speak again.
"Since you know so much, then you should also know what kind of fate awaits you next."
"One last warning. Put down your weapon and come out obediently. If you do, I might consider sparing you and Miss Escoffier a little suffering. Otherwise..."
Flynn let out a faint sigh.
"Otherwise what?"
The captain's tone remained unchanged.
"Then it seems you've made up your mind to refuse the toast and drink the forfeit instead..."
"Ah, hold on..."
Just before the captain could give the order to attack, Flynn suddenly lowered the sword in his hand and raised his other hand in a gesture to wait.
"Oh? What is it, thought better of it?"
A cruel smile curved onto the captain's lips at what looked very much like surrender.
"We can discuss that in a moment."
Flynn, however, showed no concern at all for whatever fate supposedly awaited him. He had already slid the sword back into its sheath, and he went on calmly:
"Just like I knew you were stalling for time so your men could get ready, you must have noticed, right? I was stalling too."
"So, do you want to guess what I've been buying time for?"