[358] The Magic Association (4)
Shirone was too out of breath to answer. He'd been watching the situation from afar and had sprinted over at full speed once it turned urgent.
"If you start killing people out of nowhere, what do you expect us to do? I don't know what's going on, but you can sort this out by talking," one of the operatives snapped.
"What? Kill people? How dare you reduce the glorious work of the revolution to murder!"
Aria recognized Shirone's face—the boy she'd taken a liking to in the carriage a few days ago. There was no time now for that kind of thought.
Her face streaked with tears and snot, she clutched at the only person she could hope might save her.
"Please—please spare me! Please, let me live!"
"Shut up! The revolution has already begun!"
When an operative pressed a sickle to Aria's throat, Shirone reacted on instinct. He braced the metal box at his side under his arm, reached out, and shouted.
"Wait! Then take me as the hostage instead!"
The operative's hand faltered just before the sickle would have cut her throat.
They had trained three years to carry out their great cause, but none of them had ever seen anything like this. Who gives their life for a total stranger?
"Take you as a hostage?"
Shirone pulled a Magic Association staff ID from his inner pocket and held it out, thumb covering Plu's photo.
"As you can see, I'm a Magic Association employee. Taking me hostage will be far more effective than taking a civilian."
One of the operatives finally saw through the boy's move.
It was clearly a stall. None of them had ever seen a Magic Association ID up close, and there was no way to verify it on the spot.
"Hah! You a Magic Association employee? A kid like you? Do you think I'd believe that?"
A terrorist watching from the window spoke up.
"Hey, bring that kid over."
Everyone in the Gold Tower looked at him. His hood hid his face, but the room could feel the curiosity.
"Boss, are you seriously going to believe that kid?"
"Believe it or not, he is a Magic Association employee. Akim Trading House already confirmed it. If a Magic Association employee is taken hostage, our demands will be far easier to enforce."
One of the operatives passed the boss's word through the window. It came from the boss—there was no reason to doubt it.
"All right, the boss said so. Bring him in."
The operative with the sickle clicked his tongue, shoved Aria roughly aside, and pointed the blade at Shirone, making a slicing gesture.
"Walk over here slowly. Try anything funny and I'll kill every hostage here."
"I know. That's why I'm becoming the hostage."
To avoid suspicion, Shirone set the metal box down. The sickle-wielding operative, tense and prickly, asked.
"Wait. What's that?"
"Something I bought at the alchemist's shop."
When the operative turned to check, the boss fell into thought. He hadn't seen it himself, but it was clear the kid had stopped at a shop to buy something.
"That'll do. Tell him to bring that too."
The Black Revolutionaries had no use for currency; a wad of notes bought little on the black market. But items were different. If it was something ordered from the Magic Association, it could be traded for a significant quantity of weapons.
"Carry it above your head and come this way."
Shirone lifted the metal box with both hands and walked toward the Gold Tower.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, three operatives closed in. One snatched the box, another bound his hands behind his back, and the third forced him to his knees and pressed a greatsword to his neck.
"Be quiet. Resist and you die."
Shirone said nothing; he scanned the scene.
The hostages were gathered together, guarded by three terrorists. Only Aria had been kneeling beside Shirone, separated from the rest.
Relief finally washed over Aria. She looked at Shirone—who had saved her—with a jumble of emotions: guilt, awe that he was from the Magic Association, gratitude.
"You're a mage?"
Shirone managed a bitter smile without turning. Even if he was a mage, the magic-dampening device inside Gold Tower was active, so he couldn't enter the Spirit Zone.
'I didn't expect the magic-dampening device to be on. Well, it's natural for a foreign exchange bank. But how did these people infiltrate it?'
He glanced at the huge hole in the Gold Tower's floor. They must have tunneled in—something that would have taken months. This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment crime.
'This could get dangerous.'
While Shirone was lost in thought, the terrorist with the flail approached. His bulk showed even under a robe.
"Kukuku, the Magic Association bastard I hate most has come. What should we do with him?"
His voice was a low, abnormal rumble—clear but coarse.
He crouched, seized Shirone's chin with a huge, wood-rough hand, turned his face left and right, then seemed to hit on an idea and drew a dagger from his sleeve.
"This'll be fun. Hey, girl."
Aria watched him with terrified eyes. There was no way he'd called her over to tell her to go home and study.
The terrorist spun the dagger deftly, then gripped the blade with his fingers and thrust the hilt toward her.
"You saved him, so you owe us. Right?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Then repay us with a stab. The thigh would be fine."
Horror flooded Aria's face. She went white; her jaw trembled.
"What? Uh, how could I—"
Even stabbing a stranger would terrify her. Inflicting pain on the person who'd become a hostage to save her was unthinkable.
A second terrorist with a double-headed axe stepped forward, eager.
"Kyakyakya! Perfect. Come on, do it fast! Or I'll kill you first!"
Their voices overlapped, low and high.
Startled by the threat, Aria took the dagger, but she couldn't bring herself to stab Shirone's thigh.
"Huh? As expected of a Magic Association employee. Not even a twitch of expression in a situation like this."
Shirone stared calmly ahead.
Any reaction now would only please the terrorists. Being stabbed might hurt, but that was a future that hadn't come yet.
At the operative's words, Aria lifted her head to look at Shirone. From his still, impassive face came words that eased her guilt.
"I'm fine. Protect yourself."
The flail-wielding terrorist lost patience and barked.
"Hurry up! Stab him! Before I smash your head!"
When the flail swung, Aria burst into tears and reached for Shirone's thigh.
"I—I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."
The hilt, upside down, quivered in her hands. She couldn't imagine the sensation of steel piercing flesh.
Sobbing, Aria pressed the dagger's tip to Shirone's thigh.
Even then Shirone's expression didn't change. They wouldn't actually kill him now—he was their most valuable hostage.
"You are surrounded! You are surrounded! Release the hostages and surrender immediately! Refusal to comply will result in a full-scale sweep!"
All the terrorists' heads snapped toward the windows. The Tormia counter-terror unit had arrived and surrounded the Gold Tower, erecting barricades.
Rapid-response squads of prosecutors, the mages' special suppression team, an explosive ordnance disposal unit of alchemists, and a sniper corps of gunners had all been deployed.
The flail-wielding terrorist spat curses at the lost opportunity to humiliate the despicable Magic Association scum. His voice was so low it was unintelligible—maybe not even human language.
To the Black Revolutionaries, nothing came before the cause. Regaining their composure, one operative gripped Shirone by the back of his knees, hauled his legs up with brute force, and carried him to the window.
"We are the Black Revolutionaries! Release Deputy Director Kanimar and our comrades now or the hostages will die! We'll execute one person every ten minutes!"
The counter-terror unit didn't flinch. Meeting their demands would invite even bigger demands next time.
But they couldn't simply sacrifice the hostages. If any high-ranking noble was among those trapped in Gold Tower, it could become a political crisis.
"You miserable bastards! If you want to die, do it yourselves!"
The unit commander glared and ground his teeth. They had no choice but to strike, but the critical question was when to minimize casualties.
It could be now, or five minutes from now. How much time to give them was his decision alone.
At that moment a thunderous crack split the air and a woman landed, staff like a pike in hand.
Plu, who had flown straight from the Magic Association, took in the scene the instant she arrived.
"The counter-terror unit is here, and the civilians are out. But that kid—?"
Given how close the alchemist's shop was, someone should have been watching from nearby. Yet Shirone was plainly here, held by the terrorists.
Plu's gaze snapped to the Gold Tower's front entrance. Seeing Shirone held by the terrorists, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
"What are you doing over there, you idiot!"
Her outburst made the counter-terror unit turn.
"Ah…"
The commander frowned.
"Who are you? You teleported—are you a mage?"
Plu straightened and stepped forward with authority. She wasn't officially on the cooperating team, but this was Magic Association jurisdiction, so she had standing.
"I'm Plu, Chief of Security for the Magic Association. What's the situation… huh?"
Plu clutched at her chest, then looked down in dismay. The staff ID that should have been hanging from her neck was gone.
Realizing belatedly, she clicked her tongue in frustration.
'Oh no—I gave it to that kid.'
The commander watched Plu's face change every second. If she hadn't teleported in, he might have written her off as some crazy local.
"Chief of Security for the Magic Association? Then why are you here? The suppression unit's already in position."
"Ah, well—I thought I might be able to help…"
Plu's voice had gone small, cowed by the missing ID. The commander, irritated, faced forward again.
"Go back. We have enough forces to take them down. The problem is the hostages."
Plu wasn't new to terror scenes either.
Neutralizing terrorists is hard because they use random vulnerable people as human shields.
But she couldn't leave Shirone behind.
'The more I think about it, the angrier I get. What were you thinking letting yourself be captured? Magic doesn't even work in there.'
Suddenly Plu's eyes flashed.
'Wait—magic?'
Shirone being captured might be an opportunity.
With a plan forming, Plu cut through the counter-terror unit and rushed to the commander.
"Sir! Sir!"
The commander sighed and turned.
"Now what? We're busy."
"There's a way. A way to rescue the hostages!"