"Damn it… who are those people claiming to be from Rhodes Island?! How can a supposed medical company have so many elite operatives?"
"Lord Cronin, Miss Ceylon is still in their hands…"
"Of course I know that! That girl's been bewitched by them—trying to tarnish the mayor's name and undermine Siesta's prosperity!"
"But, sir… about the volcano—"
"What? Are you saying that our own research data is wrong, and we should trust the word of some shady organization that came out of nowhere?"
"...I wouldn't dare."
"Good. Then go. And bring Miss Schwarz here. She grew up with the young lady—perhaps she can talk some sense into her and make her see reason."
"Yes, sir!"
Once the man in the black suit and sunglasses left the room, Cronin's composed façade finally cracked.
He slammed his fist on the desk, his expression dark and restless.
He knew full well that sending Schwarz would only buy time.
At best.
More likely… she'd be swayed by them, too.
Grimly, he pulled a communicator from his pocket.
The display showed a single contact name: [Boss].
His thumb hovered over the button for a long while.
He hesitated.
Then, gritting his teeth—he pressed it.
There was no turning back now.
Better to gamble everything—than to sit and wait for Herman's inevitable purge.
If he was going to be eaten by a beast, he might as well strike a deal with it first.
———
"You don't have to be so nervous, little one."
Cape—now dressed in a sleek suit—spoke with calm, almost fatherly warmth. His tone was serious yet gentle as his violet eyes rested on the young boy before him.
Mephisto, also wearing a fitted suit—the official Cape Group secretary uniform—sat stiffly in his chair, fidgeting.
The uniform was one of the corporation's signature designs. The Cape Group categorized their attire meticulously: Executive, Supervisor, Employee, Collector… each one signifying rank and purpose.
It wasn't merely for show.
It was a symbol.
A way to instill pride in the wearer—to make them believe they were part of something greater.
To make them devote themselves, body and soul, to "the Cape family."
Mephisto squirmed uneasily, sneaking glances toward the others standing behind him—Faust, Alina, and the intimidating woman with the fierce gaze.
Their presence comforted him somewhat, though he still didn't quite understand why he had agreed to Cape's invitation.
His mind felt… hazy.
"Hmm~ the corrosion still isn't strong enough, is it?"
Cape, sitting across the table with his hands clasped, mused silently to himself.
Mephisto's ready acceptance of his offer wasn't just a matter of gullibility.
Well… perhaps the boy was a little naïve. But that wasn't the core reason.
No matter how kind Cape appeared, no matter how noble his rhetoric sounded—
that couldn't erase the simple fact that they'd only known each other for less than a day.
Mephisto might look like an innocent, wide-eyed youth,
but a boy who had already taken lives… was not truly ignorant.
Still—nothing that Cape offered ever came without a price.
Even if he couldn't embed enough of the Black Snake's will into the digestible tablets to seize full control of Mephisto's body—
he could still nudge his decisions.
Steer his thoughts.
A subtle influence, but enough.
After all, when Talulah turned against him, she'd unleashed a thorough purge of the Reunion ranks—scouring nearly every cell of his influence.
To avoid further losses, the Black Snake had been forced to withdraw part of its will.
The memory of those flames still burned vividly.
But Talulah couldn't stay vigilant forever.
Eventually… she would lower her guard.
And when that happened—
the Black Snake would find its chance again.
But Cape hadn't expected that Mephisto's willpower would prove far stronger than he'd anticipated.
So… Talulah's dear friend really did educate you well, the Black Snake mused silently, its voice echoing deep within Cape's mind. And she's protected you even better.
A low thrill stirred in the Black Snake's heart—an instinctive hunger rising from within.
It was the Black Snake's very nature—
the instinct to taint.
For its authority, its essence, was corrosion.
To stain what is pure white with black—
that, too, was a form of corruption.
Cape's expression softened, his tone shifting from casual charm to something deeper, more resonant.
"Although, in name, you're already part of our Cape Group family," he began, "there's still one little question I'd like to ask you."
He smiled faintly, reassuringly.
"Don't be nervous—this is something I ask every new secretary. It helps me understand each of you a little better."
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier.
His voice dropped, low and deliberate.
"There was once a renowned scholar from Rhine Lab—Doctor Mobius, a researcher dedicated to exploring the essence of terranity. She once posed a question—one that has lingered through the ages."
He paused.
"The trolley problem."
Chen's brows furrowed immediately.
What's he trying to do?
Cape continued smoothly, his tone eerily calm.
"Of course, I've made a few adjustments to make it more relevant to the kind of problems we face here at Cape Group."
The original problem was simple—yet cruel.
Five people were tied to a railway track, and one person to a side track.
A runaway trolley was speeding toward the five.
You stood beside a lever that could divert the trolley, saving the five but killing the one.
You could choose to do nothing—letting the five perish before your eyes... or pull the lever, and take a single life with your own hands.
A question of inaction versus moral responsibility.
No matter the choice—blood was on your conscience.
When Mobius first proposed it, she'd said,
"Don't overthink it. It's only a theoretical exercise."
She never meant for it to be a moral war.
But after she posed it, terranity did what it always did—
they argued, raged, and tore each other apart in pursuit of being "right."
Each side convinced that their choice was the noble one.
Mobius herself?
She hadn't cared much either way.
To her, it was just an amusing question.
———
"Please listen carefully, my little secretary."
Captain cleared his throat and began to speak, under Chen's discontented gaze and Alina's worried eyes.
"There is a group of people—very hungry people. They can't earn enough through their own labor to feed themselves. They lack the wisdom to secure their survival. They are many, and they are on the brink of death."
"And you—have money. Not much, but some."
"There are two kinds of food you can choose from."
"One is ordinary food, at a normal price."
"The other is of terrible quality. It's extremely cheap, but eating it would undoubtedly drain their bodies—think of it as a kind of stimulant, only lasting a bit longer."
"And those people—are about to starve to death."
"You don't have time to distinguish between them… because by the time you finish analyzing each person's unique worth, they'll already be dead."
Captain narrowed his eyes.
At that moment, his smile sent a chill down everyone's spine.
"So, will you choose to save only a few, letting most of them die of hunger…?"
"Or will you feed everyone—but in the end, all you've done is delay death a little longer?"
"The second choice, at least, is fair."
"Of course, there's a third option…"
"That is, save no one. After all, you must think of yourself too."
"For them, that's also quite fair, isn't it?"