By Zephyria “Good work.”
“Good work, Vice Commander.”
“Vice Commander, you’ve worked hard.”
After the briefing ended, words of praise were exchanged outside the conference hall. The one who received the most encouragement was Shorendo, who had been tossed around here and there. Although he was only a Vice Commander, the heavy responsibility he held compared to his years must have been a considerable burden for him. All the more so because he was in charge of a sluggish and ticking time bomb of a case, rather than any other role.
If the resolution of the case was delayed in a situation where the world’s attention was focused, the Council would inevitably face public cynicism and criticism. In the midst of that, the main target of abuse was the investigation leader, who publicly showed his face at official events.
Nevertheless, Shorendo shook hands with each and every member of the Council who had worked with him, giving them the credit, without showing any signs of hardship.
“Haha, am I the only one who’s worked hard? Everyone has worked hard.”
He didn’t forget to ask the departing newspaper employees for positive articles. They eventually left, offering formal greetings, perhaps because they hadn’t gotten the content they wanted.
As the procession of people lined up to leave was coming to an end, Hugo and the battalion commanders surrounding him appeared last.
“Still, it’s a relief that it ended cleanly.”
“The atmosphere was really fierce at the beginning, but this also somehow wrapped up.”
“Time is the cure. It was too overheated back then.”
“Commander, you’ve worked hard.”
“You’ve worked hard. We’re going back to the original system without an acting authority now, right?”
“That’s already been discussed at the councilor level.”
“Commander!”
While the battalion commanders were exchanging words, Shorendo called out to Hugo in a voice that hadn’t fully relaxed.
Hugo, who had been silent, suddenly turned his eyes to him. Shorendo, who had approached right in front of him, finally let out a sigh of relief as he faced his superior.
His expression, as if he wanted to complain a lot, was quite different from the charisma he had shown on the platform a little while ago. Hugo gave a loose smile, took his hand, and patted him on the shoulder.
“Good work.”
“Ah—, Commander. Please don’t ever retire, even later on. Even if you get an offer for a councilor seat from above, you can’t go? It was only thanks to you helping me from the side that I was able to manage, otherwise I would have been criticized and there would have been no progress…. I would have been really embarrassed if I was alone.”
“Are you elaborately telling me to work for the rest of my life, Vice Commander?”
It was 5th Battalion Commander Verity Sharma who interrupted. The battalion commanders burst into laughter without resistance.
“That’s right, that’s right.”
“That’s too much.”
“No, that’s not what I meant―.”
Shorendo waved his hands, saying that wasn’t what he meant, but everyone added a word or two, perhaps because the reaction was funny. Hugo also let out a low laugh and calmly responded.
“I don’t particularly have any thoughts about a councilor seat, but living as a soldier for the rest of my life is a bit much for me too….”
“That’s right, Vice Commander. How long has it been since the investigation ended, and you’re saying that to the Commander who worked so hard? And if the Commander goes in quickly, we can all leave work and date, right?”
Andreas put his arm around Hugo’s shoulder and added a word. Shorendo retorted with a dumbfounded expression.
“Senior, please stop that now. Your womanizing is a disease at this point.”
“A disease? It’s just that I’m good at it.”
Andreas gave an inappropriately smug smile. Meterion, who had his hands in his pockets, clicked his tongue as if he was pathetic and walked ahead of the group.
Andreas, noticing that the action was directed at him, glared at the back of Meterion’s head. Just in time, Loren, who was watching, added.
“Looks like he doesn’t even think you’re worth responding to today.”
“What―?”
“Okay, okay, let’s not do this here and go eat―. It’s already way past lunchtime.”
At 9th Battalion Commander Maria’s arrangement, everyone turned their eyes to the clock hanging in the hallway. Hugo also happened to look down at his wristwatch and turned his body slightly in the opposite direction.
“You guys go ahead. I have something to take care of.”
“Yes? Commander, you have to eat.”
“I want to finish it while I remember. I’ll do it separately later.”
Hugo nodded and strode away in the opposite direction from Meterion. The battalion commanders stared at him as he walked away, then exchanged glances with each other. They were looking at each other, wondering whether they should stop him or not.
As silence lingered, Loren opened his mouth first this time as well.
“I think it would be better for us to go by ourselves. He must have a lot on his mind.”
“Um… okay. He must be tired.”
In fact, the person who had suffered the most mentally from the explosion was none other than Legion Commander Agrizendro. Everyone knew how dedicated and tormented he had been by this case, even though he didn’t say it, so they couldn’t stop his steps, which seemed to be trying to hide his exhaustion any longer.
The battalion commanders, led by Loren, continued walking towards the dining area. Shorendo, who had been staring at the Commander’s broad shoulders, hesitated and followed his colleagues.
At that moment, Hugo, who had stopped walking, turned around and said.
“Oh, submit all the overdue reports by this afternoon.”
Sighs that sounded like groans echoed from the end of the hallway.
The leather-clad door of the Legion Commander’s office opened and closed silently. Hugo, who had returned to his office, deliberately did not turn on the indoor lights.
Rather, he went straight to the window and drew the curtains to darken the interior. As the deep wood tones filled his vision in the quiet atmosphere, his mind became much more at ease.
He approached the large desk that took up almost an entire wall. He pulled the heavy chair back, turned it 45 degrees, and collapsed into it as if falling.
The large and sturdy chair gently enveloped Hugo’s body, which had been stiff. As he entrusted his whole body to gravity and slumped down, his upper body, which had recently bulked up to an excessive degree, swelled greatly. The full chair creaked and groaned laboriously.
He closed his eyes and emptied his mind for a moment, then groped the desk with his left hand. What Hugo picked up was the first news article about the case, which had just finished announcing the final investigation results. As he stared at it with lowered eyes, a knock was heard from the door connected to the adjutants’ space.
Knock, knock―
“Commander, may I come in?”
Hugo put down the newspaper, straightened his posture, and replied.
“Come in.”
Flynn quickly opened the door and came inside. In his hands were a wooden tray holding a teapot and a stack of documents.
Flynn crossed the spacious room and approached Hugo, placing the documents on the desk. Then, he lifted the teapot with the heated bottom, held it over the teacup, and tilted it.
“Herbs are supposed to refresh the mind. I thought this would be good for you today.”
The clear scent of herbs spread subtly into the air along with the hot steam. Hugo nodded without replying. His hand, which had already grabbed a pen, mechanically signed the documents and repeatedly turned to the next page.
However, that action did not last long. This was because a document requesting permission to close the investigation into the explosion was placed before his eyes.
As the tip of the pen paused above the signature line, Flynn, who had been watching, cautiously added.
“Even though we’ve been holding onto it for quite a while, no evidence has come out. The announcement has also been made, and I think you’ve done enough.”
Flynn’s voice was calm, but on the other hand, it contained a nuance of concern. Hugo, who couldn’t possibly not know that, couldn’t press down on the pen tip for a while.
Shorendo’s concise briefing suggested the conclusion of the case, and within the Council, it had already been concluded as an accident with the agreement of all the battalion commanders and councilors. However, Hugo still had too many unresolved questions. A prime example was the cause of Richard Duncan’s death.
The burned man Hugo and the knights had witnessed on the terrace was, according to the forensic results, the last appearance of the late Richard Duncan.
He hung precariously on the 2nd floor railing, then fell headfirst, dying instantly at the scene from brain damage and a fractured skull. The corpse with the broken head was so gruesome that it traumatized many people during the recovery process, and the extent of the damage was so severe that it was not disclosed to the bereaved family.
One question was that the scene just before his death was quite unnatural.
In Hugo’s eyes, the way his head had been turned in an instant seemed like the result of some external pressure, not his own will. For example, his head was pierced by something that flew at high speed.
‘But….’
No bullets were found inside the body or around the scene. The extent of damage to the skull and cerebral cortex due to the fall was so severe that it was difficult to determine the exact cause of death.
The blue eyes dryly scanned the forensic results contained in the document.
Some, after hearing Hugo’s eyewitness account, suggested that Richard Duncan had lost his footing while writhing in pain. It wouldn’t be strange if he suddenly had cardiac arrest, since his facial skin had been completely peeled off in the explosion.
It wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t a definite assumption either. And there was one more such unclear assumption.
“Flynn, one of the final three people the Count’s servant picked out. Have the investigation results come out?”
“Ah, that.”
Flynn went out to the adjutants’ work space and hurriedly returned with a two-page paper. It wasn’t an official document, but it contained the details of the investigation that Hugo had personally ordered.
As he looked at the small letters that read ‘Henry Digliff,’ Flynn raised the brightness of the desk lamp with the embedded light stone and replied.
“He’s a vassal relationship that Baron Penrod appointed as a knight as soon as he received his title, but as you know, he’s not a formal knight. When I showed the servant the photo listed in the personal information documents at the time of the appointment, he only repeated that the face seemed different. He didn’t remember the exact impression.”