novelraw Chapter 23 : Chapter 23
Chapter 23 : Chapter 23
Chapter 23
The investigators stared at me as if they were utterly dumbfounded.
As silence filled the area, one investigator looked at me coldly and spoke.
“I do not know what you think you are saying all of a sudden, considering you are not an investigator. Are you not the doctor in charge of Draksan’s counseling? I understand that you care about your patient, but you should know when to step in and when not to—”
“Investigator Turner.”
At that moment, a chilling voice rang out.
Nyxle rose from her seat and continued, looking straight at Investigator Turner.
“Who do you think made it possible to subdue those barbarian rioters so quickly?”
“Wait, that was not me, that was thanks to Erisa—”
“When I was attacked by a barbarian, the doctor saved me as well. And he has helped with investigations several times before. He is not someone whose opinion we can simply disregard. We should at least hear his reasoning.”
Nyxle shut her eyes tightly.
“T-This is unbelievable. To misspeak at a time like this…….”
She muttered in frustration. It was quiet enough that the other investigators could not hear it. Only I, with my sharp hearing, could catch her words.
“It is fine. It did not show much.”
“Really?”
“Probably. I am not entirely certain…….”
As Nyxle’s despair deepened, Investigator Turner looked at me with clear displeasure.
“……Go ahead.”
Thanks to Nyxle, I had been granted the floor.
‘From here on, it is a matter of persuasion.’
The field in which I was most confident.
“The barbarians—more precisely, the indigenous people of the southern Demonic Border region—have a unique ritual. It is performed when selecting a War Chief.”
I quoted Draksan’s words exactly.
—It is a ritual conducted to prove one’s qualifications as War Chief. When a candidate for tribal leader brings back the severed head of an enemy commander, they burn it as an offering and hold a festival of dance and song.
“In this ritual, the offering can be anyone who aligns with the spirit of a warrior—an enemy tribal leader, a Monster threatening the tribe, or even a human who oppresses the Barbarian race.”
Deputy Chief Justin had oppressed the barbarians. At least, from their perspective, that was how he appeared.
“Deputy Chief Justin is a suitable offering.”
“An offering……!”
Someone muttered in shock.
Ignoring it, I continued.
“Moreover, they never intended to kill Deputy Chief Justin from the beginning.”
“He is Chief now.”
“Ah, yes. In any case, as you all saw, the dagger thrown by the barbarian investigator struck Chief Justin’s leg.”
The words spoken by the barbarian who had been subdued and captured were also a clue.
“They said Chief Justin had become a glorious offering.”
They would not have said that without reason.
“Most decisively, what did they shout when they charged the platform? Not ‘Kill Justin,’ but ‘Capture him.’ They intended to keep Chief Justin alive from the very beginning.”
“And the reason for that was to offer the Chief as a sacrifice?”
“More precisely, to offer him as a sacrifice to elevate Draksan as War Chief.”
According to the rules of the ritual, it did not matter who captured the offering.
However, the one who severed the offering’s head had to be the one becoming War Chief.
“In other words, by their rules, Draksan must personally cut off Chief Justin’s head. That is likely why the barbarian rioters kept him alive.”
The investigators began murmuring among themselves.
Investigator Turner closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again.
“Give us a moment to discuss this among ourselves.”
“There is no time.”
“It will not take long.”
The investigators began deliberating.
“So you are saying the Chief is where Draksan is……?”
“This is absurd. That is far too much of a leap. They would not act so irrationally…….”
“The hypothesis that they intend to offer the Chief as a sacrifice has merit. When have savages ever been rational?”
I could roughly tell what they were discussing, but I could not determine where the majority opinion lay.
The discussion, as Turner had promised, did not last long.
Before long, Investigator Turner returned to me.
“I remember your past contributions. You were of great help in that murder case that nearly remained unsolved.”
“I only helped because the Deputy Chief—no, Chief Justin requested it…….”
“Your reasoning is persuasive.”
His tone had softened considerably.
However, his expression remained grim.
“……But sending all investigators to the Joena Mining District would be too dangerous.”
“So you intend to split the forces.”
“Yes. One team will pursue the Chief. The other will head to the Joena Mining District.”
In my opinion, it would have been better for everyone to go to the Joena Mining District, but this was not a bad option either.
‘I understand their judgment. They cannot trust me one hundred percent.’
To be honest, I did not believe my deduction was one hundred percent correct either. I believed it was about ninety-eight percent correct.
“How many investigators are going to the Joena Mining District?”
“Not many. We have selected a small group of elites, including Investigator Nyxle.”
“That will suffice. Let us go.”
There was no time to delay. We immediately set off in our respective directions.
***
‘You are not even my father.’
‘Justin. Listen to me. Please, listen. I had no choice. This father had no choice……!’
‘Shut up! You killed Mom.’
This damned dream again.
Justin wanted to squeeze his eyes shut.
But his eyes, already open, refused to close. The painful memory from decades ago replayed itself before him against his will.
‘Mom was killed by the gang. Instead of seeking revenge, you flatter them and accept bribes? You insane bastard, you are not even human……!’
Justin despised this era.
The so-called “transitional period.”
An era in which one could not rule the world through savagery and violence alone, yet could not protect oneself through law and order alone either.
An era where cunning, underhanded violence and crude, foolish law were intricately intertwined.
Justin’s father had been a corrupt investigator of such an era.
‘Then what was I supposed to do? Tell me, what was I supposed to do! I had no choice. I had no choice!’
Watching his father cry and shout, Justin had felt conflicting emotions.
Disgust, and sympathy.
His father had not wanted to be that way.
He lacked the ability to mend the cracks in the world. If he lived honestly, he would fall behind and be cast aside. So he had merely survived as others did—exploiting those cracks when he could.
He justified his misdeeds and pettiness with that so-called inevitability.
A corrupt society creates corrupt individuals.
By granting them plausible justifications for corruption.
And the weak become its victims.
They either become prey to the corrupt, or become corrupt themselves and exploit those weaker than them.
From that moment on, Justin’s goal had been to fill the cracks in the world.
‘In recognition of your significant contribution to eradicating narcotics, we present you this plaque of appreciation.’
‘Congratulations on being selected as Outstanding Investigator, Chief!’
‘Thank you. Thank you for avenging my daughter…….’
It had not taken long for him to rise to Deputy Chief while patching the small cracks of society.
He had endured trivial death threats from gangs along the way, but Justin had not even feared death.
The only thing he feared was becoming moderately corrupt like his father.
‘Deputy Chief Justin, no matter how I look at this, this is not right. There is no need to go this far……!’
The problem began after he became Deputy Chief.
To confront the great evils—the vast chasms in the world—he needed methods different from those he had used before.
Unofficial methods.
There were times when crossing the line was the only way to combat true evil.
Justin fought great evil even if it meant disregarding conventional morality. He believed it was right.
Yet he did not do so without anguish.
‘At this rate, you will only become evil, fighting evil!’
Would the Public Security Bureau not become just another organization like the gangs, fighting over interests and territories?
Even if he filled every crack in the world, one crack would remain.
The crack is called Justin Dunham.
What would he do then?
When all other evil had vanished and Justin Dunham alone stood as the world’s sole great evil, what would he do?
The answer had not taken long to find.
***
“Mm…….”
Justin opened his eyes.
His hands and feet were bound, and his head felt as if it would split open. His leg was nearly numb.
He remembered being struck by the dagger thrown by the barbarian investigator.
‘Damn it. I never thought Hoian would betray me.’
Hoian had been the name of the barbarian investigator who attacked him.
‘He did seem dissatisfied with me ever since the Draksan incident. Still, I never imagined he would side with the barbarian rioters…….’
He should have noticed earlier. At the very least, he should not have assigned Hoian to the inauguration ceremony.
It was a meaningless regret.
Justin looked around.
Ignoring the barbarians surrounding him, he focused on assessing his surroundings.
‘I see no other buildings. I do not hear any carriages……. Faint bird calls and mechanical sounds.’
A rhythmic ‘THUD, THUD’ echoed.
There was also the sound of something collapsing.
‘A mine.’
There were many mines in the Kingdom, but only one the barbarians would bring him to.
A place that had once been their sacred ground, later exploited as a site that oppressed them, and now served as their settlement…….
“The Joena Mining District.”
“You are awake, enemy of the barbarians, Justin Dunham!”
The man standing at the head of the barbarian rioters shouted.
Barbarians were generally large, regardless of age or gender.
But this man was small. Even his back was hunched.
His distinctive appearance made it easy to recall his name.
“Dermento.”
A notorious figure.
A shaman who led the barbarian rioters, and a first-class terrorist wanted by the Lumentea Kingdom.
Justin was suspended atop a wooden pole, his limbs bound.
Below him lay scattered animal carcasses and blood.
The meaning of the scene was unmistakable. Justin knew barbarian customs.
“You intend to offer me as a sacrifice. For your new War Chief, no doubt?”
“Heh heh.”
Dermento smiled slyly at Justin.
He then turned to the gathered barbarians and shouted.
“Brothers and sisters! For too long, the position of War Chief of our Rock Hunter Tribe has stood vacant! Ever since Yuricah, hero of the Joena Mine Revolution, returned to the ‘Warrior’s Stone Mountain,’ we have found no worthy successor!”
“Woo, woo!”
The surrounding barbarians responded in a chaotic mix of low and high voices.
The sound sent chills down one’s spine.
“Now, our Rock Hunter Tribe once again teeters on the brink of slavery under the schemes of a wicked mage and his lackey, Justin! Now more than ever, we need a War Chief!”
“Woo, woo!”
As the ritual proceeded under Dermento’s direction, Chief Justin thought.
‘If I die like this…….’
Yes. Perhaps it would not be so bad.
The ideology of the dead is beautified. With time, it is even praised.
All the more so for a symbolic death.
Justin believed his death today would be symbolic.
Kidnapped by barbarian rioters on the day of his inauguration as Chief, and slain as an offering in their savage ritual.
How symbolic it was.
It would undoubtedly be remembered for a long time.
‘And through my death, my beliefs will be proven.’
Barbarians are different from humans.
They generally struggle to control their anger. At times, they even lose their reason entirely.
Even those who appear gentle are no exception.
It is etched into their blood.
“Sabina, the God of Swords and Axes, has personally granted us a candidate for War Chief!”
“Woo, woo!”
He was not advocating open discrimination.
Rather, for the stability of society, barbarians and humans must be treated separately.
There was ample justification.
Just looking at the statistics of the Barbarian race’s high crime rates—especially assault and murder—was enough.
It had merely been left unattended because the opportunity and justification had been lacking.
‘Today, my death will provide that justification.’
Justin smiled in exultation.
And then—
“We present the one who shall become our great War Chief! The hero who saved Sauhin Village! The revolutionary who stood against the tyranny of the Public Security Bureau! The warrior who fought Monsters at the risk of his life!”
The smile vanished from Justin’s lips.
The candidate for War Chief stepped forward, crossing through the barbarians, an axe in each hand.
“Draksaaaaan—Caliguuuuus!”
Draksan Caligus.
The barbarians chanted, “Woo, woo!”
“……No.”
At the sight of that face, Justin’s complexion turned pale.
Click. Click.
His teeth chattered with fear.
“D-Draksan. Reconsider. This is not right. This is…….”
“…….”
Draksan looked up at Justin without a word.
His grip tightened around the axe.