A Cold World (2)
In the final operation that would decide whether humanity lived or died, even the king's name meant little.
"The personnel needed to open the Flower Field are just me, Plu, and Dante."
Thus came the right to choose a hundred people.
"I can give you one hour. Pick your hundred within that time."
A hundred thoughts flashed through people's heads.
The king, politicians, doctors, teachers, family, the poor pushed to the margins of society.
In the end they all carried the same weight.
"Chairman, you should start." When no one moved, Iruki put his pen down and pushed it forward.
"The Grand Commander of the Valkyries."
Lupist leaned back and crossed his legs.
"It's a post you could call at the very top of the heavens, but you underrate people."
Iruki spoke evenly.
"What do you mean?"
"You don't need to step in. Leave the judgment to this friend."
When Lupist pointed at Dante, Plu and Iruki turned their gazes toward him.
Dante, lost in thought, lifted his eyes and said, "Iruki, to be honest, it pisses me off." No answer came.
"Fine. The chairman has given the order, so I have no choice but to make the hard decisions."
Contrary to his words, Dante didn't glance at the pen; he spread his arms wide.
"No one. There are no people to be saved."
At last a smile spread across Iruki's face.
"We drop a bomb on the capital. It will be a massacre—6.5 million dead. If I save a hundred people, that information reaches a thousand, those thousand reach ten thousand...
The operation collapses.
"It will spiral into an uncontrollable region. We were testing whether we're ready to burn the capital to the ground."
They had to all die.
No loved ones, no useful people—no one would be able to survive in Bashka.
"Right. I'm sorry."
Dante snorted.
"You, so single-minded, resorting to such a childish trick. You must be pretty cornered."
"To tell the truth, yes. I'm going to be the architect of this insane massacre. If I'm going to be remembered by history as a devil, I at least don't want to fail."
Knowing what Iruki carried, Dante stopped arguing.
"By the way, is security really airtight? A project this scale can't be known only to us."
"Risky, yes."
Iruki admitted without hesitation.
"As you can guess, not everyone dies. The tycoons who invested huge sums in this project and heads of related agencies have their lives guaranteed. We'll at least spare the targets' children."
"Children, huh. That's ambiguous. If it's the husband's case, you save the wife and kids but not the parents, right?"
"They're not fools greedy enough for that. They know better than anyone what would happen."
They would be made to disappear without a trace.
"Is that something to be relieved about? We organized an assassination unit just in case, but it hasn't been set in motion."
Iruki raised a finger.
"Actually, the ones we had to watch most closely were the unmarried. Some married in haste to save lovers, but the Temple tolerated that."
Lupist asked, "How many were implicated that way?"
"Two hundred eighty-six."
Dante propped his chin and murmured, "Two hundred and eighty-six, huh."
As a security and intelligence expert, that number was uncontrollable.
Iruki said, "I know what you're thinking. So we monitored via numerous channels ourselves. One of them—what they boast as the world's best censorship system..."
'Meireigun.'
Dante knew from Armin that the Great Purifier's listening posts were inside the Temple.
"We monitored twenty-four hours a day. And so far, the number of cases caught by the Temple's filter—"
Iruki gave a bitter smile. "Not a single one."
"Not a single one?"
"Yes. They couldn't even detect a Code Zero — an obsessive-suspicion-level trigger. So from the Temple's standpoint, they can assert that none of the 286 survival candidates leaked information."
"Kek. Kekeke."
Lupist shook his shoulders and lowered his head.
"Perfect."
Normally eager to blurt out even the smallest secret—
'Facing a horrific massacre of 6.5 million...
No one speaks.
They put on their ordinary faces in front of parents and friends, pretending nothing is wrong.
'Ah, humanity.' Lupist's grin split his face; it was impossible to tell if he was laughing or crying.
"Very well."
As if a lie, his expression vanished.
"We are no different from them, after all. The conclusion is 6.5 million dead. The question is sacrifice efficiency—can the Temple really annihilate the demonic forces?"
"If my calculations are right and the strategy succeeds, Hell's armies will suffer a 91.3 percent manpower loss."
A sufficient result.
"Good. Then Bashka is to be abandoned. A king can be replaced, after all—the Lupist sees even the monarch as merely a top-tier component of the state apparatus."
"How will you make up Tormia's losses after the war? Once the capital is gone, self-recovery will be impossible."
The country would be swallowed by its neighbors in an instant.
"The Temple will cover all restoration costs. When a government is established, implement immigration policies. Offer housing and land, and many will come."
Lupist squinted one eye. "Sounds like a dream. Even the Temple will ultimately need funding from other countries. Do you think every head of state will comply willingly?"
"In addition, we will hand over all technology and data on the elemental bomb to Tormia."
Lupist's eyes flashed. "For connected industries, I'll keep the core tech to myself. Use it to check other nations or as a bargaining chip. Above all, I'm from the Kingdom of Tormia. I won't let my country fall."
That last line moved Lupist.
'Well, Iruki's family is included in the 6.5 million.'
If he weren't mad, he'd take responsibility even to the point of selling his soul before he died.
"Fine. We'll follow the Temple's will. When the detailed strategies are issued, I'll hand over full rights to use the Flower Field."
Iruki turned to Dante. "There's no time to say it aloud. I'll issue it through the 'Rope.' You're the overall manager, Dante; it's the safest method."
Lupist nodded and stood. Plu and Dante followed him toward the door.
At the doorway Dante turned back. "What if we'd written and submitted a list of a hundred ourselves?"
"…They wouldn't have been allowed to leave alive."
"In short, you were seriously underestimating it. You thought it was possible?" Iruki dodged the question like a slippery snake.
"Anyway, you didn't write it."
Dante gave a short, hollow laugh.
Hearing Bashka's horrific future and still being able to laugh made him feel like a lunatic.
It was that unreal.
'For you, Iruki, it will be reality.'
The face Dante watched no longer belonged to someone truly alive.
'Annoying bastard.' The one who'd rubbed him the wrong way since royal magic school was now half a corpse.
"Take care of yourself. You'll really die if you keep this up."
Unable to answer "yes," Iruki offered only a weak, rueful smile.
"Dante."
At the call, Dante turned again.
"Yeah?"
"When the war's over..."
Iruki's eyes, cautious even to speak those few words, looked unbearably lonely.
"Let's have a drink together."
Despite the lump in his throat and the crack in his voice, Dante—
"...All right."
He had no choice but to say it.
To hide reddened eyes, Dante opened the door and left immediately.
'What an idiot! Does he think he's some sort of hero?'
As Dante strode away, Plu lengthened his steps and fell into step beside him.
'Now the battlefield has shifted to Tormia. The Association will be at the forefront. We need to identify Sion's key elements.'
But Plu fell silent after reading the emotion in Dante's eyes.
'A rational man... but such rage.
'Damn it! Those fucking demons! Kill them all!' Noting the blood flowing from Dante's fist, Plu asked nothing.
The Flowerfolk refuge.
Lupist had struck a deal with Plarino in exchange for seeds of living flowers.
They rescued three hundred of their kin who were suffering around the world and gave them a safe home.
Plarino, once the Spectrum's Minister of Defense, now lived as an ordinary Flowerfolk woman.
"Good morning, Ms. Plarino."
A man of the Grass lineage greeted her with a composed smile and a bow.
"Yes, good morning."
The Violet Tiara lineage—said to be the most beautiful and fragrant among the Flowerfolk—shone all the more under the sun.
"Today's sunlight is truly sweet. On days like this, it's best to sit in the Garden and do nothing." Plarino covered her mouth and laughed.
"That's right. Nothing beats receiving the sun without thinking of anything. Would you like to join me?"
"Haha, of course."
Plarino opened her arms and watched the sunlight filter through the branches.
"I love this place. No one comes to harm us, and above all, it's peaceful."
"It's all thanks to you, Ms. Plarino. Everyone who gathered here is grateful."
"Oh, no, I—"
Plarino's pupils trembled as someone approached from a distance.
"What's wrong?"
Where she looked, Lupist and Dante were walking side by side.
"Lupist..."
Plarino shivered.
"You're here. Perfect timing."
Lupist strode up to her and cut straight to the chase.
"Where's your chieftain? Take me to them."
The deal had been sealed; Lupist had promised not to interfere in Flowerfolk life.
"W-what is this about?"
"No time to talk. It's urgent. We need to use your Small-World Creation ability."
Plarino cried, "You promised! You took all the living-flower seeds! We only want to live in peace!"
"Peace?"
Lupist grabbed Plarino by the collar and hauled her close, thrusting his face in.
"Look at me. Look me straight in the eyes."
The Flowerfolk man went thud, and Plarino's jaw trembled.
"Do I look sane to you? What do you think I came here for? Do you want everyone to die?"
"Hhu... hhuuu..."
The Flowerfolk trait of extreme passivity kicked in; her mind went blank.
'How can anyone have eyes like that?'
They were the eyes of a predator at the apex, capable of doing anything to get what it wanted.
"This is your last chance. Lead me to your chieftain."
Plarino's head dropped like a stringed puppet.
"...Yes."
If you asked her what the scariest thing in the world was, her answer would have been, without question: humanity.