Chapter 173 - Taboo

On the outskirts of District 13 stood a small, filthy restaurant.

Its cold-eyed proprietor kept his knife razor-sharp, ready to cook at any moment. Yet the dust-covered tables, grease-caked plates, and mold that covered the walls in place of wallpaper would turn away even Level 0 citizens who cared nothing for hygiene. It was practically a barrier designed to repel customers.

What, exactly, did the proprietor cook? Why was the knife alone so keenly honed in this filthy place?

For the first time in ages, customers arrived at the quiet establishment whose very existence invited suspicion.

They clearly seemed to be from another district. The man wore a neat shirt and tie and tipped his expensive hat slightly. A woman in a straw hat stepped lightly in after him.

The relatively well-dressed pair looked disconcerted the moment they entered and saw the filthy walls and dust-covered tables.

“Uh... Bee, are you sure this is the place?”

The woman who had followed him in stiffened her expression before replying.

“Affirmative... No, yes, it is. This off— I was told this restaurant draws crowds.”

“Didn't you get it wrong? We came because you said there was a restaurant in District 13 so good you wouldn't notice if your dining companion dropped dead. Here, we'd both drop dead of food poisoning.”

“Hey, that's going too far!”

As the customers lingered at the entrance instead of coming farther inside, the proprietor slammed his knife down irritably.

The man flinched violently. Glaring at him through his unkempt hair, the proprietor spoke.

“Well? You ordering anything?”

Thoroughly cowed, the man stammered out a question.

“Um, what's your best seller?”

The proprietor grinned, baring a patchy set of teeth with several missing.

“Steak. Dripping with blood.”

“Eek.”

The man seemed better at reading the room. Looking frightened, he hastily grabbed the woman's wrist and pulled. They backed away in hesitant steps, watching the proprietor warily.

“S-sorry to bother you! W-we'll come back another time!”

“Sure.”

Despite losing his first customers in ages, the proprietor looked entirely untroubled.

Because this restaurant wasn't actually a restaurant.

'So there are people who'll crawl into even a dump like this. At least they had enough sense to save me the trouble.'

Restaurants were among the most common establishments in the Military State. They were also places where visits from strangers aroused little suspicion.

That was why organizations set up rendezvous points disguised as restaurants: so their members could make contact or assemble in an emergency.

'The day of action isn't far off. Can't go making trouble today. Good thing I didn't get rid of the corpse...'

The proprietor opened the storeroom door. Instead of ingredients, it revealed a pitch-black space and a wooden staircase leading down.

Only a few days remained before the Shadow overturned the Military State and took control of the backstreets. A mere underling, he didn't even know the date of the operation, but he was ready to turn this country upside down the moment the order came.

A dangerous smile crept across his lips...

“You were right. It's a rendezvous point.”

Outside the restaurant, I took off my hat and murmured. The captain nodded as well.

“There were suspicious signs. An unusual flow of people was observed in an alley that should see little traffic. At particular times, groups would visit this establishment at regular intervals.”

They had probably chosen a quiet backstreet for their rendezvous point to avoid suspicion, posing as a failing restaurant.

But they couldn't have known.

The Military State had communications officers: people who could connect to golems hidden throughout the streets and survey this city as easily as the palms of their hands. For them, a quiet alley was easier to monitor than a crowded main road.

... Well, the only reason they hadn't opened a restaurant on a main road was probably that they couldn't afford it.

It wasn't that they were stupid. I hadn't known either.

Not that communications officers existed, nor that the Military State was that insane.

“You're really amazing, Captain Bee. Picking out suspicious locations from all the countless alleys in the Military State.”

I read thoughts. Even ugly secrets meant to be carried to the grave laid their vulgar nakedness bare before me. A passing brush was enough to expose the innermost thoughts of a spy who could withstand every torture in the world. The depths of a person meant nothing to me.

But when the people themselves were shallow, I became rather useless.

Yes. For instance.

Especially here in the Military State, where people had grown used to serving as interchangeable parts.

“Those Military State's Shadow fellows operate in cells whose members have never even met one another, so I was having trouble finding them too. No matter how hard I shake them down, they don't know a thing. Takes all the fun out of it. I couldn't have found this place without you, Bee.”

“Negative. Your praise is excessive. I merely did what I was supposed to do.”

“I'm praising you because you did it well. Finding a rendezvous point on our very first attempt is quite an achievement.”

Really, she couldn't dig as deeply as I could, but a detection ability covering such an enormous area was certainly a power I didn't possess. The captain was impressive for managing it, too.

At my praise, she caught the brim of her straw hat and pulled it down, murmuring.

“... Negative.”

'... This is too much praise. This is the first time I've been praised for my work... All I did was fulfill my duty.'

She didn't show it, but inwardly, the captain was deeply touched. Elated, she strode ahead with newfound enthusiasm.

“We will proceed to the next suspicious location. Follow me.”

However, the next suspicious location she had identified turned out to be a restaurant renowned for its food even in District 13's backstreets.

What consoled the dejected captain was the special recommended by its kindly proprietor. Her eyes shone at yet another new flavor, and she polished off two plates.

The Military State's Shadow was less a network of cells than an octopus festooned with lizards' tails for bait.

When a few members of the true organization, the Kingdom's Shadow, displayed their power, street punks flocked to them, dazzled. Then the Shadows enticed those punks with sweet promises.

Let's join forces.

Let's overthrow this terrible country.

Once we rule the backstreets, we'll leave this district to you.

The clueless punks believed every word. Since the Shadows killed any who refused to believe and resisted, they didn't have much choice.

Punks, thugs, idlers, and people at rock bottom trusted and followed the Shadows without knowing who they were or where to go to meet them.

Proud to belong to such a dangerous organization.

“Tsk. No real clues here either. It is a rendezvous point, but that's literally all it is. A place.”

I had used mind reading to gather information at every rendezvous point we found, but nothing useful had turned up.

Everyone here was a disposable pawn, nothing more than bait that could be severed at any time like a lizard's tail.

The captain murmured as she organized the information we had gathered.

“Over twenty rendezvous points alone. Estimated manpower available: approximately four hundred... Including the rendezvous points I have not discovered and the Shadows who form the core, I estimate the total exceeds one thousand at minimum.”

A thousand gangsters causing trouble in unison would constitute a rebellion, or at least a riot. I made a fuss over the staggering scale.

“A thousand people causing trouble at once? If other malcontents join in, that'd be more than your average riot. Aren't we in serious trouble?”

“Negative. The likelihood of this situation escalating beyond a certain scale appears slim.”

But the captain dismissed it flatly. Even the prospect of a thousand outlaws rioting throughout the capital failed to alarm the communications officer.

I asked,

“Why? Because the military police could slaughter a measly thousand people in no time?”

“I affirm the statement itself, but that is not the reason. As you say, it might be different if a thousand people caused trouble simultaneously... but they lack the ability to do so.”

“By ability, you mean organization?”

“Affirmative.”

After a moment's consideration, the captain explained, organizing her own thoughts as she spoke.

“Our investigation found that the group calling itself the Military State's Shadow is scattered in small bands throughout Amitengrad's teen-numbered districts. Their small size makes them difficult for the state to detect, but it also hinders the subversives calling themselves Shadows from issuing orders. Their means of communicating with one another must be extremely limited.”

“That's true.”

If it were so easy to issue orders to street punks scattered across the capital, why would the Military State invest enormous resources in training communications officers and building magic golems?

“Furthermore, my firsthand observations during our visits revealed... that most of their rendezvous points were in poor condition and inadequately maintained. We cannot expect untrained individuals to execute coordinated operations.”

“They did look like a disorganized rabble.”

The Market and the Family alike had gathered people with common concerns for a reason. An organization needed a central focus and a shared sense of identity to bind its members together.

But I saw nothing of the sort in the Military State's Shadow, that collection of punks.

I nodded in agreement.

“It is strange. Riots like this grow as people gather. Even someone whose blood boils enough to join a thousand-person riot would probably drag their feet if told to split up into groups of ten. The more people there are, the less afraid they feel.”

The Military State's Shadow was a disorganized rabble of punks. They were extremely unlikely to obey a simple order. Especially if that order amounted to a suicide mission.

“Even if their goal is to spread chaos, would they attempt such a complex operation with a rabble? It does make you wonder.”

Oh, couldn't even one Shadow show up somewhere? I could figure it out so easily if I could just read their thoughts.

This was why mind reading wasn't all that great. Shadows or whatever, if the people skulking around never showed themselves, I couldn't read their minds. Ugh, how frustrating.

If I could at least learn what they intended...

Ah.

“Bee. Do you happen to know about a taboo?”

By now, the captain had grown used to being called Bee and answered without finding the name the least bit awkward.

“A taboo? Your sentence lacks sufficient components. Please elaborate.”

“My source wasn't reliable, so I'd forgotten about it until now. I just thought I'd ask.”

I'd kept it to myself because sharing it would violate professional ethics, but under the circumstances, I had no choice.

Sorry, Neru. I'm giving your information to the captain.

“Neru told me that Umbra Wolfen knows a taboo of the Military State.”

“... A taboo of the Military State?”

“Yes. She dropped a hint as if it were some incredible piece of information, but I had no idea what she meant, so I forgot about it. It just came back to me.”

As I casually brought it up, I took a little peek at her thoughts. Now, how much did a Military State communications officer know about taboos...?

'Difficult to determine. There are too many possible items to narrow it down to one.'

I knew it. This insane country.

You people have no right to arrest me. At least when I'm arrested, I know exactly what my crime is.

Instead of trying to identify the taboo, the captain gave up and turned her suspicion toward Neru.

“By Neru, do you mean the cat beastkin who runs a magazine...? She appears to warrant investigation.”

Ahaha. I knew this would happen. Sorry, Neru.

Feel wronged? Well, there's nothing I can do. They say husband and wife are one, don't they? You should've expected it to reach her the moment you told me.

Anyway.

“You really can't think of anything?”

“Affirmative. Umbra Wolfen was confined in Tantalus for twenty years. He had been isolated there since before my assignment and never left once until his escape. He had no opportunity whatsoever to access high-level classified information such as the Military State's taboos.”

She'd said he'd been imprisoned since the Military State's early days. In that case, Wolfen couldn't have learned anything trapped down in that bottomless pit.

No, wait. There was a blind spot in that reasoning.

We couldn't be sure Wolfen had discovered the taboo himself, could we?

“What if Wolfen heard about the taboo from someone imprisoned in Tantalus with him? That's possible, isn't it?”

“The possibility of an exchange of information...”

At my words, the captain's expression stiffened.

“... Please wait a moment. Something raises my suspicions.”

A book opened in the captain's mind, its pages fluttering. A list of those who had passed through the bottomless pit flickered past and vanished.

Recalling the trainees' personal records one by one, she found one individual.

'... The ringleader of the escape, former Colonel Lankart. The youngest-ever commander of the magic corps, and a traitor who dealt with the Federation to sell off arcane secrets.'

One person's record unfurled. Since this was information she had encountered only on paper, it was difficult to recall until something prompted her. But once her thoughts reached it, related information followed in a chain.

'The Military State's genius mage, its youngest promotee. And a survivor of Hamelin.'

Hamelin.

The moment that word entered her mind, the captain's expression grew more grave than I had ever seen it.

'Level 5 classified information. That incident in Hamelin. If Lankart, one of those directly involved, revealed the truth hidden behind the incident...'

“... I retract my assessment. I was wrong.”

The captain spoke, her body trembling with a chill.

“The Military State's Shadow isn't their tool. It's a deadly poison meant to make the Military State kill everyone in the backstreets...!”