[159]
“…You need me?”
A fake Guide?
Throughout his life, January had never thought of himself as someone particularly necessary anywhere. January was an easily replaceable being. After all, anyone could play the role of a fake Guide as long as they had the drug.
So how could someone like him be of any help to a “real” Guide?
“The Espers who visited establishments offering fake guiding weren’t experiencing life-threatening situations. They simply used illegal drugs to receive a feeling similar to guiding. In that process, they exploited civilians.”
The lips of January, one of those exploited civilians, trembled slightly.
Luka was silent for a moment. He was trying to select appropriate words.
But he was ultimately bound to fail.
Abuse and exploitation, no matter how nicely packaged, are still abuse and exploitation.
“It means some Espers treat Guides and guiding as mere playthings.”
January lowered his eyes.
Not because he didn’t want to hear it, but because he agreed with those words.
That’s right. He was a plaything.
Something like a toy that could be dragged out and used conveniently. Even when he said he felt sick from taking the drug daily, he was forced to come to work.
There wasn’t even a need for separate threats.
Just the debt that choked him. That debt made January move voluntarily.
“…I think I understand what you mean.”
He regretted his choice to touch the guiding drug and pretend to be a Guide to earn money.
The real culprits were elsewhere. Nevertheless, January felt his own shame weighed heavier than their sins.
“I’m sorry.”
Luka’s apology came quickly.
“No need.”
January answered in a gloomy tone.
“So… you want to expose the existence of me and other fake Guides, and the Espers who use such establishments. To show that these Espers aren’t receiving guiding because they’re ‘desperate’ as they claim.”
Luka affirmed with silence.
Now it was January who became quiet.
“Does it seem like a strange plan?”
“Rather…”
January hesitated to answer Luka’s question.
“…it’s quite radical.”
This was the most honest feeling January had after hearing everything.
“I know.”
Luka nodded.
He had somewhat anticipated this kind of reaction from January.
Who in the world could immediately agree with someone they just met today?
Moreover, the burden January would have to bear if he agreed to Luka’s request was significant.
At the very least, he would draw the ire of some Espers.
“But, if I have value to be used.”
He slowly met Luka’s pink eyes.
“It sounds like I should trust you a bit more.”
Luka’s pink eyes widened slightly.
“…Good.”
He wanted to say he would help even if there was no value in using him.
But one cannot unilaterally offer help that the other person doesn’t accept.
Luka had learned this from past experience.
“Let’s try to use each other well.”
The fake Guide, who had been staring blankly at the hand extended by the real Guide, took his hand.
January whispered in a somewhat low, subdued voice.
“…I look forward to working with you.”
***
“Mayor, please look this way.”
“Mayor!”
Martha Chafnil, who had stepped out of the car, straightened her back.
She was spry despite her age—rather, her posture and gait were more upright and perfect than the middle-aged lawyer beside her.
Her perfect formal attire and solemn face embodied Martha Chafnil, the beloved mayor of Babel City.
A barrage of camera flashes burst upon her face, which looked more reliable than ever.
“Please give us a comment. What do you think about today’s trial?”
“Since when did you know about the existence of stowaways hiding underground? There was a major crackdown on the black market recently, please comment on that!”
The surroundings were noisy.
Martha slowly turned around. She looked at each reporter surrounding her, meeting their gaze one by one.
As if the commotion just now had been a lie, it instantly became quiet.
The mayor had that level of charisma.
“I have always served the city.”
Her quiet voice resonated.
It wasn’t a particularly loud voice, but that made people focus more.
“If I, Martha Chafnil, have done something wrong, I will certainly face the judgment of justice.”
Her firm tone and clear pronunciation had a way of making people receptive to her words, even if they were lies.
“I hope to see you with smiling faces on my way back.”
The elderly woman, who smiled faintly and asked for more pictures to be taken, turned around gracefully.
Martha Chafnil walked into the courtroom, surrounded by the defense team she had personally assembled.
“Mayor! Mayor!”
“Please look this way! Mayor!”
As if released from a spell, the reporters shouted at her retreating figure.
The mayor of Babel City was attending court because of the abandoned factory district case.
She had been under investigation for weeks regarding allegations of exploiting stowaways under the pretext of city policies.
‘It’s alright.’
Martha had brought the existence of the black market to the surface for this day.
Those stowaways were parasites trying to suck up the abundance of the spring continent.
Abigail Chung, one of Martha’s close aides, had said the jury would be somewhat swayed.
Martha, who had spoken to reporters as if she would attend the trial as an ordinary citizen, walked down the courthouse corridor.
Ordinary people think they will make cold and rational decisions when important matters arise.
But they are wrong.
Martha Chafnil knew how easily humans are influenced by their surroundings.
News read in the morning paper, food eaten for lunch today, a sudden headache—any of these could affect their choices.
Shaking others was one of Martha’s talents. This had been a great help in her becoming mayor.
‘Those Thorns Order guys. Being difficult.’
Martha had summoned the leader and demanded they clean up the situation that had been caused by them.
She meant for them to manipulate the jury’s minds to clear her of the charges against her.
But the leader wasn’t completely compliant. He repeatedly emphasized that securing Guides had become difficult after Rosenhauser’s downfall. Because of this, Thorns Order was also restricting the use of abilities as much as possible.
Martha barely restrained her desire to kick his behind whenever she saw the leader’s face, and used threats, persuasion, and appeasement.
In the end, she was able to get what she wanted.
The mental Esper from Thorns Order said they couldn’t manipulate the jury’s minds. Instead, they could find out what they were thinking and what decisions they would make.
‘They clearly said there was no one who opposed me.’
Having gone through the final confirmation, the mayor of Babel had no choice but to be more confident than ever.
But during the trial, an unexpected event occurred.
“…We will take a brief recess.”
The judge had declared a recess.
Just before that, someone had knocked, entered, and whispered something to the judge.
Martha was gripped by an ominous feeling as she recalled the judge’s eyes looking at her over his glasses.
The judge, who had declared the recess and risen from his seat, had still not returned.
‘What is going on?’
Sensing the stir among the jury, she turned to her lawyer.
One of them quickly scribbled with a pen on the back of a prepared document.
“…What are you talking about?”
Martha unwittingly asked aloud. The gazes directed at her became more intense.
Feeling the tangible criticism, she gestured.
The lawyer who had shielded her, as if they were having a conversation, manipulated a terminal to bring up a screen.
On it was Abigail Chung, dressed in a black formal suit.
Standing in front of microphones, she looked somewhat haggard.
The sound was muted, but subtitles were scrolling.
Martha opened her mouth.
A silent scream raged within her.
‘No.’
Martha Chafnil thought inwardly.
‘It’s going to be okay. I can still get out of this.’
Thorns Order had handled the evidence and witnesses. They had erased the connections sufficiently.
So nothing could be done with just the testimony of one Abigail Chung.
“How dare… how dare she…”
Martha muttered.
‘How dare this rat betray me?’
Her eyes were bloodshot and reddened.
Slowly raising her face, which had been terribly distorted, she discovered that the lawyer looking at her had an expressionless face.
He wrote again with his pen.
“I told you everything.”
Martha let out a hollow laugh, ruffled her hair, and rose from her seat.
“At least what you needed to know.”
How could she entrust her intimate secrets to someone, even if they were her lawyer?
All she needed to give the lawyer was the information necessary to win the trial.
“…That’s what I was hoping for.”
Martha straightened her back.
The more cornered she was, the more upright she needed to appear.
As if she had something to rely on, in others’ perception.
Above all, Martha still didn’t think she would fall.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
