Chapter 15 The Truth Doesn't Always Explode
Kimblee remained reclined in the chair, studying Doctor Marco's face with a mix of genuine interest and restrained amusement. The silence between them was not uncomfortable; it was dense, heavy with ideas yet unspoken. At last, Kimblee broke the stillness with a crooked smile.
"You've already given me a fairly clear lesson, Doctor," he said calmly. "Now tell me… why am I here?"
Marco interlaced his fingers on the desk. His eyes never left Kimblee's for even a second.
"I need to know, firsthand, where the Philosopher's Stone is," he replied. "And I also want to learn about your research on explosive alchemy. It's no coincidence they call you the Crimson Alchemist."
Kimblee let out a brief laugh.
"They call me the Crimson Alchemist because I like the crimson of blood," he corrected without hesitation. "Titles are always born from truth, even if many are uncomfortable admitting it."
Marco did not react. He had already learned that Kimblee was not trying to provoke; he was simply stating what he thought.
"Then let's return to what matters," the doctor continued. "The Stone. We know you had it. We know you used it."
"And you also know," Kimblee replied, "that I no longer have it."
Marco frowned slightly.
"Several witnesses claimed they saw you swallow it."
Kimblee nodded casually.
"Indeed. I swallowed it."
The doctor raised an eyebrow.
"And then?"
Kimblee turned his face to the side, as if mentally reconstructing the scene.
"Then something appeared… a creature made of shadows. It attacked me. In the middle of the chaos, I took it back out. After that, I left it in the coat of the Silver Alchemist. He was wounded, nearly dead. I thought he wouldn't last long."
Silence fell like a slab of stone. Marco processed the information slowly, weighing every word, every pause.
"So," he said at last, "according to you, the one who possesses the Philosopher's Stone is that old man."
Kimblee stood up from the chair and walked a few steps around the office, studying the shelves packed with documents.
"Exactly," he replied without looking back. "Not me."
He then turned toward Marco, his expression curiously serious.
"So… what will you do now?"
Marco hesitated. It was only a fraction of a second, but Kimblee noticed it.
"And how do we know you're not lying?" the doctor asked. "Everything you're saying could be a well-crafted story to save your neck."
Kimblee smiled, but this time there was no mockery in it—only something harsher.
"It wouldn't benefit me to lie," he said. "If you send men after an old man and find nothing, who do you think you'll blame?"
Marco did not answer.
"Me," Kimblee continued. "You'll kill me without a second thought. And it wouldn't be difficult. If you had the ease to pull me out of a prison and bring me here… you also have the ease to execute me right here, in one of those circles I saw outside."
The doctor studied him with renewed attention. Kimblee was not begging. Nor was he negotiating. He was laying out a simple, brutal logic—impossible to ignore.
"I gain nothing by deceiving you," he added. "The Stone has already fulfilled its role with me. If it still exists, it's in the hands of someone who barely understands what he carries."
Marco rose slowly from his seat and stepped in front of Kimblee.
"You are aware that your knowledge is valuable," he said. "But you are also replaceable."
Kimblee held his gaze without blinking.
"Everyone is, Doctor. Even you. The difference is that I don't lie to myself about it."
Marco turned away and approached the wall where the incomplete diagrams of the Philosopher's Stone hung.
"Your explosive alchemy…" he murmured. "It's unstable, but extraordinary. You've created destruction without the need for external circles, without extensive preparation."
"Beauty lies in immediacy," Kimblee replied. "An explosion shouldn't ask for permission. It should simply happen."
The doctor remained silent for a few more seconds. Then he spoke, his voice lower.
"If you're telling the truth… we'll go after that alchemist."
Kimblee inclined his head.
"I hope so. Because if you don't, I'll be the only one who pays."
Marco gave him one last look before heading for the door.
"You'll return to your cell for now," he said. "But don't think this ends here."
Kimblee smiled broadly.
"It never does."
When the door closed behind the doctor, Kimblee was left alone. His thoughts were not filled with fear, but with anticipation. If they went after the old man, something would break. If they didn't, something would explode. Either way, the world would start moving again.
And for Kimblee, that was always good news.
(End of Chapter)