50
Don’t Be Manipulated by Emotions
Sebastian remained silent throughout the entire story. In truth, what made me a bit uncomfortable while telling the story was the fact that I was telling it here of all places. This pub was frequented by Security Bureau employees, so it wasn’t an appropriate place for such a conversation.
That’s why I told the story by omitting most of the subjects and changing some words.
“The day I first met you, that morning I was in the countryside. It was… the day when the gates of the besieged castle finally opened.”
To a casual listener, it might sound like a story from an RPG game, but Sebastian recalled when that day was and easily understood the content.
“Ah, right. Were you the one who caught the lord of the castle?”
“My colleagues and I caught him.”
We disguised our conversation just enough so that others couldn’t understand. As long as we could understand each other, the rest didn’t matter.
If we wanted to have this conversation, we shouldn’t have done it here. Sebastian’s house would have been the safest place, wouldn’t it? It would have been even more comfortable to talk there since I’m currently staying there. Yet, we were having this conversation here. Sebastian might not have known that this was Munben Street. He’s someone who moves by car and doesn’t drive himself. But I knew exactly where this was and could have warned Sebastian.
The human heart is truly mysterious. Even when there are things we shouldn’t do, sometimes we end up doing what our hearts tell us. The heart is a powerful motivator, prioritized above all else. Therefore, the company always emphasized that we should never be manipulated by our emotions, but that company abandoned us, and now I’ve completely broken those brakes.
The moment I realized there might be a connection to the Director, I didn’t care about the company anymore. If I could, I’d like to buy that energy bomb and throw it into the Director’s office. Other people might get hurt? Why should I care? Did any of you even blink an eye when my kids were dying?!
Throughout the story, Sebastian had a cautious expression. He listened in small segments and occasionally stopped me to organize his thoughts. His face was expressionless, showing not a hint of emotion.
When I finally finished the entire story, it wasn’t Sebastian who spoke first.
“Isn’t the strangest thing the W that’s supposedly somewhere?”
It was a young bodyguard who looked like he might be the third youngest of the goldfish poop. Apparently, they had been listening intently all along. No, why are you listening when you’re at a different table? You should just eat and chat among yourselves.
In response to the bodyguard who seemed to be about my age or a year or two different, the youngest shook his head.
“I think O is more… He submerges his subordinates like that? I’ve never seen such a method even in SAAD. Besides, I was only in SAAD for two years, but I’ve never seen such sloppy work being done.”
No, I want to hear Sebastian’s opinion. I didn’t ask for your opinions. And this was a story you shouldn’t have heard in the first place!
As I was about to open my mouth in disbelief, Kouri gave a look to the second youngest.
“What do you find strange?”
The second youngest burst into laughter while chewing on the last chicken leg. No, of course— he laughed and then looked at me.
“The ‘narrator’ who’s perfectly alive and hasn’t suffered any disadvantages.”
His face was devoid of any trace of laughter. Kouri nodded in agreement.
“Me too.”
The third and fourth also looked at me with faces that said, ‘Come to think of it, that’s right.’ With eyes that said, ‘We’ve caught the traitor.’
Ah, this is why I didn’t want to tell you! You weren’t supposed to be my inner advisors!
Just as I was about to stand up and point accusingly, Sebastian spoke.
“Actually, I think the same. The strangest person in this story is you.”
Hearing even Sebastian say this made me pause.
I’m strange? All I’ve done so far is… well, actually nothing. I did try. But it was difficult to even find a direction. And if it weren’t for Sebastian, I’d still be trembling with worry about my father and brothers’ safety.
“Did I do something wrong?”
To my question, Sebastian said, “That’s not what I mean,” and then fell silent for a moment. As he was pondering how best to express it, Kouri dropped a greasy piece of meat into the salad plate.
“It’s not that the meat did anything wrong. But it’s certainly strange, isn’t it? It doesn’t fit with its surroundings at all.”
Hearing it that way, I think I understand.
Suddenly, anxiety overwhelmed me. I thought I hadn’t done anything wrong, but what if I had? What if that’s why my team fell apart?
A possibility I had never imagined before ripples beneath my feet. The face of Jay’s fiancée crying comes to mind. What if it’s all my fault?
What if, what if, what if…
As possibilities bare their sharp teeth and try to tear into me, Sebastian casually says,
“But even if it’s strange, it’s probably not your fault. You’re not the kind of person capable of that.”
I should ask what he means by ‘that kind of person,’ but the words don’t come easily. However, as if they understood what Sebastian meant, everyone at Kouri’s table nodded in unison.
“That’s right, Mr. Riegel.”
“Oh my, look at his expression change with just one word.”
“How did you work at the Security Bureau with that kind of face?”
“Ah, but I’ve heard of Armin Schnieke too. Isn’t he the Rotman Cerberus?”
My pounding heart stopped as if it had caught on something. Cerberus? What, the hellhound that guards the gates of hell?
As I turned my head, the second youngest who had mentioned Cerberus looked into my eyes and asked, “You didn’t know?” With a face that found it more surprising that I didn’t know.
“I’ve heard the term ‘hunting dog’ quite a bit…”
How did it escalate to a hellhound?
As I frowned, the second youngest found it amusing and turned to Kouri.
“Looks like they call him a hunting dog internally.”
“The way they talk about that hunting dog who’s saved their asses so many times…”
Kouri snorted. I could sense his hostile feelings towards the Rotman Security Bureau in his attitude. I knew he was being nice to me, but to this extent?
Finding it a bit curious, I stared at him, and Kouri clinked his glass against mine.
“The four of us were originally one team. In SAAD.”
Ah.
Only then did I realize that the four of them… looked like they were of similar ethnicity. That is, Middle Eastern Asian features. Ah… I see.
It’s never a good sign when team members retire simultaneously. Whether SAAD cleaned up the team or the team left, it means an insurmountable problem occurred.
“That… must have been tough.”
I didn’t intend to dig too deep, so I just said it must have been tough, but the youngest muttered in a tone as if spitting,
“Fuck, it’s a relief to be out. At least we don’t have to do shit like canoeing anymore.”
Ah, canoeing.
It’s not something our Security Bureau does, but some places do… But wasn’t SAAD not really related to canoeing? Or has it become a trend without my knowledge?
Canoeing refers to shooting someone in the head, creating a V-shaped fracture that looks like the bottom of a canoe scraping a sandy bottom. I hear some special forces guys like it, but in our department, it’s a bit… well, there was a bastard who did it once. And our director, Madam Spider, got so pissed she almost destroyed that guy. He did it to a Canaris corpse, and the director said,
“Stop doing unnecessary things. You’re a professional. You’re paid to do a job. You should do your job accurately and quickly, not mutilate corpses like this. Forget about it being a crime, this is meaningless and if this corpse is exposed, we’ll have to face unnecessary criticism and crisis! Who are you to put everyone in such danger? You want to do this? Then take off your uniform. Do it with your own gun. Then we’ll catch you right away and execute you. At the very least, don’t get paid while indulging in your dog-like hobby, you shameless psycho. Got it?!”
That’s roughly what she said. It would have been hard enough to hear this in private, but I heard he was chewed out in front of everyone after a major operation. Moreover, Nina Volkari, the chief of Department 2, was accompanying Andrea Dill at the time, and as the director left huffing and puffing, Volkari followed and drove the final nail in by saying to the guy, “Just die. You’re wasting air.”
What was even more unfortunate for him was that he was later transferred to Department 2, and unable to withstand the harassment from Department Chief Volkari, he eventually retired. The fact that it took only half a year to make a madman who even did canoeing retire due to stress shows what kind of person Volkari is.
Ugh, thinking about that suddenly makes me want to get up and leave. If I were to meet Volkari here,
“Mr. Schnieke?”
Why is it that the voice you absolutely shouldn’t hear always comes so clearly at the worst possible moment?
I don’t want to turn my head. Ah, I wish I could just die here. I wish I could sink into the ground. I wish someone would shoot me. Why did I bring Sebastian here? Why did I do that? Ah, the company said it. Don’t be manipulated by emotions. I should have done that. Fuck, I should have done that.
“Mr. Armin Schnieke.”
Volkari was calling me in a bright voice. Ah, I can feel her smiling brightly. And in that voice, there’s a shadow as deep as the brightness of her tone.
I turned my head to look at Volkari and was about to make an excuse, saying, “Let me explain how this happened.”
My father used to say, if you’ve done something wrong, apologize quickly. The first person to apologize has the highest chance of being forgiven.
“I can explain everything.”
Even to my own ears, my words didn’t sound convincing at all. It sounded like the senseless words of an amateur con artist caught in the act.
Volkari smiled broadly.
“I’m sure you can. …Director.”
At those words, I blankly stared at the woman entering behind Volkari. A woman slightly shorter than Nina Volkari, with an even smaller face, long straight black hair, and glossy black skin, Director Andrea Dill, was entering, saying, “Oh my, this is exciting.” With eyes from which ice seemed to be dropping.
