Massive Adjustment (2)
Shirone, who had been staring down the corridor Plu had left, turned at exactly the right moment.
"Let's talk."
Lupist felt the moment had come.
'You can't keep deceiving them forever.'
He had hoped they'd never find out, but as allies, once asked they had no choice but to tell the truth.
"All right."
They entered the meeting room in the Tormia district. Albino was already waiting.
"What are you hiding from me?" Lupist exhaled.
"Okay. It was a rushed decision. We're going to use Plu as a honeytrap."
"Did she accept that too?"
"Of course. Even if she's a subordinate, you don't just ignore someone's opinion and force them into something like this."
Shirone knew Plu.
"Wasn't there another option? This isn't the way I want to handle things."
"It's too late. It's already underway. You saw it yourself."
"We can undo it."
"This is a state-level strategy."
"But it's a strategy made without consulting me. If you act like this, you won't be able to save Tormia."
Even Lupist—who prided himself on being the coolest head in the Magic Association—couldn't let that go.
"Are you threatening me?"
"No. I'm stating facts. You can't pursue Ultima with something that's not sincere."
"Fine. Then we'll have no choice but to give you up."
Lupist raised his hand.
"I'll bring Plu back."
"Why you? Plu is my employee. You can't interfere like this."
"I'm doing what I believe is right. I've done so until now, and I will continue to do so."
Lupist slammed his palm on the table.
"What's your problem!"
"Calm down. Calm down."
As voices rose, Albino slid off the table and into the sofa.
"You know where we are! Other nations are doing worse than this! You expect to go up against them with nothing but high-minded honor? Do you still think you're a Magic Academy student? First year, Class 3?"
Shirone fell silent.
"Listen. We're sitting here because we've always taken on the tasks others refused. Sure, some of it was noble—effort, training. But do you think that's all there is? Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty to win. To solve problems."
"First year, Class 3."
Albino fixed his gaze on Shirone.
"The people who once dreamed bigger as children—who believed they could change things and worked for it—those are the ones sitting here now."
Memories flashed through Shirone's mind like a slideshow.
Archivist for the Ozent family, Class Seven, Five, Four at the Magic Academy, up through graduation.
Looking back it felt so young, but it was a time he wasn't ashamed of.
'I fought with everything I had.'
Even if it seemed childish, even if the adults were angry—he believed it was right.
'I had the courage to do that.' Had everyone simply cowered, pale before the monster called the world, and forgotten?
'We all dreamed.'
Where did those huge kids go—the ones who could easily brush aside the temptations that monster held out?
"If even one percent of them had kept their convictions, the world wouldn't have turned out like this."
"Exactly. The fact that that one percent is missing—that's reality. Everyone wants it to be there, but no one wants to be that one percent themselves. That's how the world is. You know that. You're not a child—stop acting childish."
"Childish?"
Shirone's brow twitched.
"Since when did values humans must protect to the end become childish? Ordering a subordinate to do something like that isn't childish, so it's admirable?"
"Not everyone is like you. Do you think I take you lightly? I gave up personal gain to serve the state. Plu did the same."
"Then I'll do it myself! No matter what sacrifices are needed—the unified mental system—"
"You can't do that!" Lupist interrupted, saying what he'd kept inside. The words hit Shirone hard.
"You never believed in me from the start?"
Lupist leaned on the desk and lowered his head.
"Shirone, humans aren't that great. Resources are limited and people are still clumsy with desire. We're only a little more civilized than hunters and gatherers; we're still primitive apes chasing money."
He stared at Shirone.
"Don't you trust you? No—I do trust you. You're humanity's strongest mage. If you'd said we should wage war, I would have bet my life—or the lives of all Tormia—on you. But not on a unified mental system. What I can't trust isn't Yahweh—it's people."
Shirone's lips trembled.
"You don't want to hurt Plu. Fine. Bring me a solution. Not airy promises—a clear, concrete solution. Doing your best won't be enough."
Lupist pointed at the table.
"Face reality. What happened to Imir's Ultima, our only hope? The synchronization failed. It means you couldn't fix it. Because you couldn't, I have to try."
Shirone ground his teeth.
"You have two choices: create something more here, or give up. Plu will be okay for now. I'll give you one day." Without answering, Shirone turned and left.
When the door shut behind him, Lupist sagged in his chair.
"Ugh."
Albino finally spoke.
"You sounded more worked up than usual. At a kid, too. There are plenty of ways to coax someone."
"She's not a kid."
Lupist pounded the desk.
"She knows things. She's the one who experienced all of humanity's history through Omega. She probably understands human nature better than I do."
"Hmm."
"And yet she wants to fight for humanity. That contradiction causes conflict. It makes me wonder if maybe she's right."
"That's unusual. Someone at the top of the world sacrificing everything—that's not something humans generally do."
"Yes."
Which only made it more regrettable.
"Of course our stance won't change. If Tormia can become the leading nation, we'll do whatever it takes. The problem is... she always asks that final question."
"A very unsettling question."
"Yes. Perhaps..."
Lupist looked out the window.
"I wonder if Shirone is humanity's last chance." Outside the meeting room, Shirone stood dazed, unable to move for a long time.
'What more do they want me to do here?' No matter how much of his power he threw at it, the world didn't budge.
"Damn..."
He wiped at his eyes, but the ache didn't ease.
'Why won't it work?'
Is a way for everyone to be happy even possible in this world?
'It must exist.'
Shirone moved on.
'There's no time to be discouraged. Think. More ideas, more sacrifice, more responsibility...'
Hot tears blurred his vision.
Travis, who had hidden the huge sum of one million gold at home, headed to his shop.
"Heh heh. Heh heh heh."
He couldn't stop laughing.
'Now I'm really living. I can live like a noble. You hear that, you bastards?'
He couldn't forget his wife's face when he opened the coin pouch—the look like her heart had stopped.
His son bounced with joy, and he'd even promised to put him in school after they moved.
'Go ahead. I'll give you everything.' Travis hadn't yet imagined how heavy that chain would be.
He turned into the narrow lane of Edia No. 2 and saw the usually busy red-light district quiet in daylight.
"Aaah!"
A woman's scream.
"What is it?"
At first he didn't pay it much mind, but then he recognized the voice—it was from his own place.
"Yeah! Hit him! If you have money, then hit me!"
"Isn't that Candy?"
Realizing the voice belonged to the woman who worked for him, Travis moved quickly.
Inside, a drunken man in his thirties had grabbed Candy by the hair.
"You crazy—!"
A killing look entered Travis's eyes as he seized the man's wrist and pulled.
"Let go! Let go!"
As the man dropped to his knees, a palm the size of a pot lid struck his cheek mercilessly.
"Hey, you bastard! Is this the Colosseum? Why the hell are you beating someone? Do you want to die?"
Candy yanked Travis back.
"Oppa! Don't! If you go to jail again, what'll happen?!"
"It's fine. If I go, that'll be that."
The man clutched his aching wrist and shouted,
"What business is it of yours! We're in love! Candy betrayed me!"
"Oh, really?"
He raised a fist, not a palm, and Candy shoved him away.
"Just go! You're gonna kill someone!"
Gang members who'd come running grabbed the man's arms and hauled him out. When things calmed, Travis asked,
"Hey. Who the hell was that? Is he really your—?"
"No!"
Candy, a thin cigarette between her lips, exhaled slowly.
"Just a customer. A fallen noble. I gave him credit because I felt sorry for him."
"Credit? I never heard about that."
"I paid for it out of my own money. His drinking just got worse every day and now he's begging me to marry him."
"What a madman."
Travis glanced down the alley.
"Hey, that's your problem too. Whether he was ruined or not, what does it matter? Mind your own life."
"Ah, fine. I don't want to talk about it."
Candy took another drag and murmured,
"He wouldn't really kill himself over this... would he?"
"Hah."
It wasn't hard to understand. How many people working in places like this get the chance to pity someone?
"Tsk tsk, pathetic."
He snatched Candy's cigarette and waved.
"Hey, everyone, gather round."
As the working women and gang members assembled, he produced a heavy pouch.
"Take it. Split it evenly."
The thud sounded serious, but people assumed it was at most silver.
"What is it? What other work do you have, oppa?" As Candy opened the pouch, everyone in the room went wide-eyed.
"Gah!"
The dazzling sheen of gold coins—
"Boss, what is this? These are large gold coins!"
Candy overturned the pouch and quickly spread the coins across the table.
"How much is this? Oppa! Explain!"
"Puahahaha! Surprised? Did you really think Baekgu would rot away in a place like this his whole life?"
"Oppa! You did it!"
Now that they could see the money, reasons didn't matter.
"Yeah. We're going legit. Candy, you wanted to be a singer, right? Do it. I'll back you."
"Boss! Congratulations!"
As the gang members bowed properly, Travis's neck stiffened even more.
Even the steady Baekgu grinned from ear to ear, and Jokjaebi—the one always thinking of backstabs—had fire in his eyes.
After all, they'd been the only ones to follow him for twenty years.
"Oppa! You're the best!"
The women who'd suddenly struck it rich rushed him and hugged Baekgu's frame.
'Money really is wonderful.'
Just spending one percent of the fortune he'd received from Myron brought this kind of treatment.
A hot flame rose in his chest.
'This isn't the end. I'll go higher—up to the very top.'
He basked in it, golden and satisfied.