[409] Task Force (1)
Magic Association.
Investigator Sakiri of Inspection Division 3, who had previously interrogated Kanis and Arin, was heading to the special criminal detention facility beneath the Association.
At his side walked Blenner, Third Director of the National Intelligence Agency.
The NIA's Third Bureau—the Grand Kingdom Intelligence Administration—is a covert organization made up entirely of black-ops agents whose ranks are not disclosed to civilians.
The reason the head of such a department had come personally to the Association was to obtain one thing that could stop Gaold's plan.
Namely, a confession from Third-Rank Grand Mage Izabel.
"Anyway, she's a problem, a real problem. Gaold—what a disgrace to the kingdom. I never liked him from the start. Making everyone suffer and then sneaking away alone."
Sakiri wasn't fooled by Blenner's genial expression.
Everyone in the oversight bureau knew that Lufist, the acting head of the Association, had put in a request to Blenner.
"If you ask me, that Izabel is vicious too. Pretty face and all, tsk tsk. Mages—what can you do."
Being on the receiving end of gossip about mages was never pleasant—especially when the target was a publicly respected Third-Rank grand mage you had once admired.
Sakiri, however, didn't show it. He sometimes shut his emotions off as easily as that when the situation required it.
"I've heard you're the best at this sort of thing. Do what you must. I'll take care of the fallout. Make sure you get her to talk."
"That won't be easy. Even if she's non-combatant, she's still a grand mage. She's the sort who won't lie simply because she's afraid of pain."
"Heh. That's precisely why I called you. Sakiri of Inspection Division 3—you're the one who leaves no criminal standing once you catch them. Do your best."
"I'll do what I can."
Sakiri answered halfheartedly and let his thoughts drift.
Acting Chairman Lufist had long regarded Gaold as an eyesore. If he could, he would throw the Association's full weight into removing Gaold.
But things hadn't gone as planned.
He'd found an opportunity to settle a long-standing grievance, but the problem was that Gaold's reputation inside the Association wasn't as bad as expected.
A madman, but pure; foul-tempered, but stronger than anyone else.
And that was outside Lufist's calculation.
Izabel's risking her life to defend Gaold at the national emergency hearing had left many Association mages uneasy.
Someone other than Gaold's guard had declared him innocent.
And when that someone was a publicly recognized Third-Rank like Izabel, the standard of judgment wavered regardless of the facts.
Lufist, on the verge of seizing leadership, became desperate.
He needed a pretext to mobilize the Association's forces to remove Gaold, so he reached out to Blenner, Third Director of the NIA.
'That's as far as I could infer. But…'
Questions remained.
Forcing a public mage to perjure herself and torturing her was dangerously risky, even for the national intelligence service. How had this been approved?
'Who's behind this?'
Sakiri probed Blenner's intentions casually.
"How much of a confession do you need? That Izabel was actually part of Gaold's guard and defended him—would that be enough?"
"Hmm. It needs to be stronger than that. Enough to show she actively orchestrated an assassination attempt on His Majesty. Whether she designed it or laundered the funds, that's for you to determine."
'They intend to completely destroy her.'
No one must know what would happen in the basement today. They planned to cut every branch they could.
That was why Sakiri alone would conduct the interrogation without observers.
"Do whatever it takes so long as she doesn't die. I've installed recording devices. Reset the Obscura B and bring it to me afterwards. You'll get a special promotion."
'So that's it.'
The last piece of the puzzle fell into place in Sakiri's head.
The torture of a beautiful grand mage would be recorded in full. What better snuff for the aged politicians who gathered in depraved social circles?
That was the whole point.
Outside, the attempt on the king's life was unfolding; the chairmanship of the Magic Association was on the verge of changing; the world teetered on upheaval—yet someone was simply indulging a hobby.
'Perhaps that is merely human.'
Sakiri understood. If a person could do something, people tended to do it.
When they reached the special criminal cell, Sakiri fixed his gaze on the iron door.
Blenner, either uninterested or politely distant, did not peer inside.
"All right. Handle it as quickly as possible. I want that confession within forty-eight hours."
Forty-eight hours.
"Don't worry. He got this far because of this one thing."
Blenner patted Sakiri's shoulder as if reassuring him, then turned away.
Only after the footsteps in the corridor faded did Sakiri lay his hand on the door's security lock.
As he stepped into the Spirit Zone, the lock read his personal data and clicked open.
He pushed the half-open door and entered. Izabel sat on a row of bolted chairs against the dim cell wall.
Once the model employee of the Association, always proud of her neat appearance, she now looked like a pitiable criminal: hair disheveled over her face, wrists bound by mana-control cuffs, hands folded on her knees.
Two recording devices flanked her; a third was set off near the iron door—three in all.
Only the central recorder's red light blinked, recording Izabel's condition for days.
"It's strange to see you here."
Izabel didn't respond.
She hung like a corpse and breathed hollowly.
Sakiri ignored her, unbuttoned his sleeve, and checked the recording devices.
"Do you know what's the scariest thing about life? That humans are granted infinite freedom. It's true. People can do the most absurd things simply because they can."
After confirming the left recorder was off, Sakiri moved along the right wall.
"Is it impossible to strangle the child you love so much it would hurt to put them in your eye? If you think so, isn't that a foolish belief? No matter how much you love someone, you can still do that. That's human freedom."
Having checked the second device, Sakiri peered into the lens of the one facing him.
"Reset the Obscura B to save the recording."
He pressed a button; the device powered down and prepared to restart.
Only when all three devices were off did Izabel lift her head. Her hopeless eyes found Sakiri's face.
"Come to think of it, tomorrow is the anniversary of my eldest son's death."
Sakiri was now a father of two daughters, but he had once had a son as well. The boy contracted Trice's disease at two—his body rotted—and he died two years later.
Sakiri was an exception to the rules.
"Well, I suppose that's life. Shall we begin?"
He flipped a switch on the wall and the ceiling lamp flared on, flooding the cell with midday-bright light.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Panels in the walls opened in sequence, and the cell extended along the length of the corridor.
Every torture instrument and apparatus a human could imagine had been laid out.
"Torture rooms are usually kept dark, but I prefer bright. Torture is a kind of communion. Seeing your body break will feel filthy—just accept it."
Sakiri held a pair of scissors, blade ready to cut the prisoner's clothes.
"What shall we start with? What are you weak to? Pain? Foreign objects? Fear? Bodily alteration? Shame?"
Izabel answered in a calm voice.
"How thoughtful of you, Sakiri."
"I'll take that as two curses in one. No point provoking you before we start. Water torture first, I think. For the show it's better if the body is clean."
"Then… why are you hesitating?"
The hand that had been clicking the scissors stilled.
"Hesitating?"
"If it's you, you should know. No matter what you do to me, I won't retract my testimony at the hearing. But your regulation-exempt 'Scales of Truth' is an exception. I don't know its activation conditions, but there's no need to waste time on that childish display, is there?"
Sakiri stared at the scissors in silence, sighed, and turned away.
"Hah. Both of them love to talk."
Clang!
The scissors clattered back into place.
Sakiri, who had been standing motionless, slowly pivoted and looked down at Izabel.
"…Why did you do it?"
Izabel tilted her head as if she didn't understand the question.
"Why Gaold? You're not part of his guard. Lufist, Gaold—both of them use the Association for their own ends. Lufist took the Association for power; Gaold became chairman for revenge. So why defend Gaold?"
Izabel's answer was simple.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"Sakiri, I honestly don't know. It wasn't a decision I thought through. Yes, as you say, Gaold and Lufist are both self-serving. Still, the reason I chose Gaold was…"
She paused and gave a wry smile.
"I just liked Gaold a little more than Lufist. That's all."
"..."
Sakiri's jaw clicked.
Then, turning back toward the shelf of implements, his face twisted as if in pain.
'Damn it. There was such an easy way.'
Since when had the name "mage" become a politician's lapdog?
Had those who fought with iron reason to make what was right no longer remained in the Association?
"…Forty-eight hours."
Sakiri picked up a spike-like instrument about twenty centimeters long.
"In forty-eight hours, Lufist will ignore public opinion and move the Association. Of course, if you perjure yourself in there, the time will shorten."
Izabel hadn't even considered such a thing.
"Forty-eight hours. That's tight."
"That shows how anxious Lufist is. He'd like to become chairman with the support of the majority, but as long as Gaold lives his position is precarious. In short, the longer you hold out, the more time Gaold can buy."
Sakiri prodded the spike between his fingers, then turned and met Izabel's gaze with a cold look.
"As a human, as a woman, I'll at least let you keep some last dignity. Not because I have any fond feelings for you. I just don't want to cater to the perverse tastes of certain mage degenerates. But the pain will be considerable."
Izabel didn't flinch. She simply looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought, as if oblivious to the horror ahead.
'Heh. Gaold. How many people are you going to inconvenience?'
Yes—why had she defended a man who had nothing to do with her?
'Maybe I, too, was bewitched by your madness.'
The recording devices rebooted and their lights came on.
Sakiri activated the remaining two devices and stood where the three lenses converged, announcing the official start of the interrogation.
"From this moment, I will begin the interrogation of Izabel, former custodian of the Magic Association's magical archive."
For the first time, life returned to Izabel's eyes.
'Go, Gaold. Beyond good and evil, beyond the future of mankind—go to the ultimate state a human can reach.'
Sakiri grabbed Izabel by the hair and roughly hauled her up.
His eyes widened as he looked at the delicate nape of her neck.
'From now, forty-eight hours. Hold on.'
Screams echoed down the detention corridor.