v2c2 - 2

The Post-War Reconstruction Enforcement Unit of the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency, led by Knight Alberic Gillette—effectively a covert operations team tasked with investigating, handling, and, if necessary, eliminating elements inconvenient to post-war reconstruction—consisted of six members in total.  

The leader, naturally, was Knight Alberic Gillette.  

The deputy was the hulking mercenary Nikolai Avtotor.  

As mages, there were Matteus Callaway and Zita Brusasco.  

The assassin, Vivi Holopainen.  

And then, as something of an outlier—a rather unique member—there was Leonardo Stola.  

But unlike the others, Leonardo had no title.  

He was neither a knight, mercenary, mage, nor assassin. If asked what he was, the members of the Gillette Corps would likely answer, “He’s Leonardo.”  

For better or worse, he was one of a kind, without parallel.  

That was the identity of Leonardo Stola.  

“…Gillette-sama.”  

The voice called out as if perfectly timed, just as Alberic finished his daily sword practice swings.  

It was already night. The scene took place in a small clearing by the roadside, where the large mechanized vehicle April was parked, and the Gillette Corps had stopped for a brief rest.  

The other members were inside the April.  

Likely, Zita, who had been driving, was resting; Vivi and Matteus were preparing food and Nikolai was tending to his wounds from his last battle with Toru. Though the vehicle April was a high-performance, state-of-the-art mechanized vehicle, it still shook during travel. Tasks requiring precision, like changing bandages, stitching wounds, or cooking, were difficult unless the vehicle was stationary.  

“Leonardo, is it?”  

Alberic responded, sheathing his sword, but he didn’t bother with the foolish act of trying to spot him.  

If Leonardo chose to, Alberic could spend a lifetime and never catch sight of him. That was his specialty and the primary reason he was part of the Gillette Corps.  

“Yup.”  

Before anyone noticed—without a sound—a petite boy stood beside Alberic.  

His delicate frame could easily pass for a girl’s.  

There was no trace of ruggedness or sweat about his appearance. The thighs extending from his short trousers were slender and smooth, almost like a girl’s, pale and flawless.  

However, this boy’s slenderness wasn’t sickly with his muscles were honed to the bare minimum, making them unobtrusive. As a result, he had little combat ability, but he could move faster and more silently than even Vivi, the assassin.  

Yet, his most striking feature wasn’t his girlish appearance.  

It was the distinctly beast-like ears sprouting from his head, far more animal than human, or the tail poking out from his trousers with a little pyokon.

(TN : I am sorry as I will be keeping these Onomatopoeias intact.)

Beastman, or perhaps demi human?

Leonardo and others like him were sometimes called such.  

Of course they weren’t an established species. They were originally human. But through magical techniques, their bodies had been “modified.”  

The agility of a beast. The stealth of a beast. The resilience of a beast. The fertility of a beast. Or… various other beastly traits were incorporated into humans to enhance abilities, resulting in this form.  

The origin of this technology, as one might expect, was the nation of the Taboo Emperor—the magical superpower, the Gaz Empire.  

However, Leonardo was not a product of the Gaz Empire.  

The Gaz Empire had been oddly lax in managing the magical technologies it developed. As a result, they quickly leaked out and other nations, using fragmented information, conducted research to replicate and even advance these new magical techniques.  

Subhuman research was no exception.  

As research progressed in various nations, countless experiments were conducted—and in the process, a vast number of subhumans were created.  

After all, in an era where “winning the war” justified nearly any excess, experiments that defied ethics were reportedly common. In Leonardo’s case, he was modified even when in his mother’s womb, born already bearing beastly ears and a tail.  

And—after the war, the post-war fate of these “experimental weapons” became a significant issue across nations. Leonardo had been assigned to the Gillette Corps in what was, in part, a way to get rid of him.  

“Finally caught up with you huh.”  

Leonardo said with a wry smile.  

“I am sorry about that.”  

Alberic returned a wry smile of his own.  

Within the Gillette Corps, Leonardo and Matteus often operated separately from the main group. They scouted ahead or gathered information from different angles. This time, Alberic had tasked Leonardo with submitting a report to the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency and retrieving the latest documents. Simple communication could be handled via magical transmission, but paper documents still relied on the postal system.  

While the Gillette Corps visited various cities to deal with vehicle merchants, Leonardo had stayed behind in Del Solant City, waiting for the documents to arrive.  

“So—how did it go?”  

“Well, about that I read them while chasing after you, Gillette-sama.”  

Leonardo shrugged.  

“Surprisingly, there’s almost nothing written in them.”  

“…As expected, huh.”  

Alberic sighed.  

It went without saying that this wasn’t the first time he’d reviewed documents on Chaika Gaz. When assigned to the task of pursuing her, he’d gone through the materials provided.  

But… all they contained, beyond her name, was a description of her silver hair and purple eyes, and the fact that she carried a coffin on her back.  

To begin with, during the Gaz Empire’s capital siege, a vast amount of Gaz-related records—from classified documents to citizen registries—had been lost. In truth, the idea that the Taboo Emperor even had a daughter named Chaika Gaz was barely known to the public, and no one knew who her mother was.  

“Honestly, I wasn’t all that interested in the background details, but—”  

Several unclear points about this Chaika Gaz had come up, as they had in his recent conversation with Zita.  

How old was she, exactly?  

How had she survived these past five years?  

How had she escaped that imperial capital?  

And there were many more questions like these… There were too many aspects that couldn’t be explained by simply saying, “It was the post-war chaos.”  

Thus, Alberic had hoped to review new documents and consider the surrounding circumstances. They weren’t the only ones pursuing Chaika Gaz, and he’d hoped the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency might have accumulated new information—but…  

“It’s little odd somehow. I can’t shake the feeling we’re overlooking something critical.”  

Zita had suggested they might be fundamentally misunderstanding something.  

Alberic found himself intuitively agreeing with that sentiment.  

“Or perhaps…” Leonardo spoke up. “We’re looking in the wrong place.”  

“…What?”  

Alberic blinked and turned to Leonardo.  

“Please forgive a demi human like me for offering an opinion.”  

“I’ve told you countless times—you don't  eed to worry about that.”  

Alberic commanded firmly.  

It might be unusual for someone of knightly status, but Alberic generally didn’t care much for class distinctions. This was partly why he’d been sent to a troublesome, unglamorous post like the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency, but he had no regrets about it.  

“I’m a demi human.”  

Leonardo said again but this time, there was no trace of self-deprecation in his tone.  

“So even if we’re looking with similar eyes…” He pointed to his own eyes. “What I see is probably different from what you see, Gillette-sama. To me, the night isn’t dark at all—the only darkness I know is when I close my eyelids.”  

Leonardo had night vision.  

His hearing range was also far broader than a normal human’s. Sounds too high or too low for Alberic and the others to hear—Leonardo’s ears could pick them up.  

Indeed, it was as if he were seeing and hearing an entirely different world.  

“Even looking at the same thing, if the ‘eyes’ you use are different, it appears differently. The angle, the position—all those things can completely change the meaning.”  

At this point—Leonardo tilted his head, as if gauging Alberic’s reaction.  

Alberic nodded deeply, urging him to continue.  

“I understand. Go ahead.”  

“For example—this is just a random thought.” Leonardo said. “The lack of documents on Chaika Gaz, the unexplained four-plus years she was missing, the things that don’t add up—what if we think about it in reverse?”  

“In reverse…what do you mean?”  

“What if none of it ever existed in the first place?”  

Leonardo said in a singsong tone.  

“What?”  

“Did the Taboo Emperor really have a daughter?”  

“…”  

Indeed—it was a topic that had come up multiple times among those involved with the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency.  

Chaika Gaz. The first confirmed existence of the emperor’s daughter after the war.  

What if she herself was a fabricated figure, created with some intent?  

“True or not, we’re talking about a monster said to have lived three hundred years, right? Isn’t it possible he felt no need to have children?”  

“Then—why?”  

If there was no such daughter as Chaika Gaz to begin with?  

For what reason, then, was this figure constructed?  

What was the purpose of that silver-haired girl posing as the Taboo Emperor’s daughter?  

Or perhaps…  

“You can come up with any number of hypotheses.” Leonardo shrugged. “For example, what if the Gaz Empire’s remnants fabricated a convenient figurehead to rally around?”  

It wasn’t an implausible idea.  

Rebuilding a nation was no simple task.  

Especially a nation held together by a “monster” like Arthur Gaz. Once the “monster” binding them was gone, his followers would likely scatter, unable to unite.  

Thus—they needed it. An heir to the Taboo Emperor’s authority.  

If Leonardo’s speculation was correct, the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency was being played by their fabrication.  

In fact… the 〈Kleemann〉 Agency had already captured several “Chaika Gaz.”  

But if they were fabricated, fake princesses, replacements could be produced endlessly.  

For instance, the remnants might have multiple “Chaika Gaz,” using whichever was convenient at the time. They were a group capable of creating demi humans, so altering appearances to match or grooming unaware war orphans as stand-ins would be simple enough.  

“…No way.”  

If Leonardo and Alberic’s guesses were correct, it would be a profoundly callous act, treating human life and dignity with utter disregard. Alberic furrowed his brow in displeasure.  

“That’s unforgivable.”  

“No no, Gillette-sama it’s just a spur-of-the-moment idea.” Leonardo hurriedly clarified. “As of now, since there's no evidence.”  

“…That’s true, but…”  

But still… if so, it would explain the current situation.  

Perhaps the Chaika Gaz they were pursuing was herself just a pitiable victim, believing she was the real thing.  

“In any case, we won’t get answers until we capture them.”  

“Well, it’s a dull conclusion, but that’s how it is, right?”  

Leonardo shrugged.

Ratison City was a relatively small town.  

Cities typically fall into two categories with those with a lord’s main residence, which serve as the seat of governance, and those without such a central authority. The former are, by their nature, heavily fortified during times of war, providing a secure place for residents to gather in times of crisis. As a result these cities tend to grow larger in scale over time benefiting from greater development, including well-maintained roads, sturdy city walls, and other critical infrastructure that supports both governance and defense. In contrast, cities without a lord’s main residence often host only a secondary residence or estate, lacking the same level of strategic importance or investment. Consequently, these cities tend to remain smaller in scale, with fewer resources devoted to expansion or fortification.

“But… for a place like that, this town’s got a lot of energy.”  

Leaning against the side of the Svetlana’s chassis, Toru muttered.  

(TN : The chassis is the structural frame or base of a vehicle to which other components are attached. It serves as the backbone that supports the engine, wheels, transmission, and body.)

He was in the parking area of the trade exchange, a feature common to most cities. Various carriages, oxcarts, and mechanized vehicles of different sizes were parked around, and judging by their designs, merchants from all over seemed to have gathered here.  

Apparently, trade was thriving in this town.  

“Actually… something feels off. I can’t quite place this feeling?”  

Toru said, looking around.  

“Mui?”  

Chaika, standing beside him, tilted her head.  

“No, I mean the whole place. It’s too chaotic, somehow—but it doesn’t feel like the security’s bad either. So… ugh, this is such a pain. How do I even explain it…?”  

After hesitating for a moment, Toru pointed toward the trade exchange.  

“Look at that building.”  

“The exchange?”  

“Yeah. Check out the area around it. No officials, right? Normally, places like this or even at the city gates, like when we came in...there’d be officials directly under the lord, all high and mighty. Taxes are basically the lord’s bread and butter, so naturally, they tightly control things like tolls, tariffs, or trade taxes. They don’t just leave it to common folk.”  

Truth be told, when they entered Ratison, they had paid a nominal entry tax. The amount was minimal, almost negligible, and the person who had collected it wasn’t an official guard or a noble’s direct subordinate but merely an ordinary worker sent out from the city’s exchange office. Typically in situations like these, especially in towns that see frequent trade activity, such taxes are expected to be somewhat flexible—easily manipulated, even. It’s common knowledge among merchants that these minor levies are open to negotiation or quiet omission, and because of this, most lords respond by dispatching their own trusted retainers or direct agents to oversee the collection strictly and ensure there’s no loss in revenue. However, in Ratison, no such enforcement was in place. There was no sign of a watchful noble’s eye, no commanding presence keeping things in order. It painted a picture of a lord who was either indifferent or willfully uninvolved in the governance of the town, someone who, for whatever reason, maintained an unusually hands-off approach to rule.

“Understood, understood.”  

“…Man, you really are clueless about the world, huh.”  

“Sheltered. Proper lady.”  

For some reason, Chaika puffed out her chest proudly with an ehhen.  

“I kinda get it, you’re a princess afterall?”  

“Vigorously affirmative!”  

“But then… how have you even survived this long?”  

“Virtue.”  

Chaika pointed to her chest as she spoke.  

“If that’s all it took, nobody would struggle.”  

Whether someone was good or evil didn’t matter to bandits, thieves, or swindlers were the types who didn’t care either way.  

“For that matter, how’d you escape? While the Gaz Empire’s capital was in the middle of a war?”  

“Escape. Didn’t.”  

“Huh? What's that mean?”  

“Abroad. From the start.”  

“…From the start? Oh, so you just happened to be abroad at the time?”  

“Ui.”  

Chaika nodded firmly.  

That made sense as it was easier to explain her survival. Hiding her identity and living quietly abroad was far simpler than escaping the Gaz Empire’s capital, surrounded tenfold, twentyfold by the allied forces.  

But—  

“Alone?”  

“…Ui.”  

Her expression clouded just slightly as she gave a small nod, the hesitation in her movement betraying the uncertainty she couldn’t quite hide. She was a painfully easy to read girl, her emotions flickering across her face with no effort to conceal them, and that alone was enough to stir a faint sense of concern. Toru narrowed his eyes, frowning as he observed her reaction more closely, sensing that something was being left unsaid. The subtle shift in her demeanor hadn’t escaped him, and he pressed further, unwilling to let the matter drop so easily.

 “You didn’t have any attendants or anything with you?”  

“Alone. From the start. When I realized.”  

“…”  

When she realized, she was alone? Alone from the start?  

What did that even mean?  

“No way…” Toru leaned in, peering at Chaika’s pale face as he spoke. “Are you perhaps saying your memory’s gone?”  

“…Affirmative.”  

Reluctantly, Chaika nodded.  

As Toru questioned her in detail, it became clear that… Chaika only had memories from about a year ago.  

Before that, her only memories were from when the Gaz Empire was still flourishing, of life in the imperial court. Because several years were missing, she couldn’t tell how old those earlier memories were… or so it seemed.  

“Silence—apology.” Chaika said, looking down. “Opportunity. Missed. Explanation.”  

In other words… saying something like “I’m missing parts of my memory” would instantly make everything she said sound suspicious, lowering her credibility. She’d meant to tell them eventually but kept missing the chance to bring it up.  

“Well…It's not like I’m not gonna complain about that now.” Toru said, scratching his cheek. “It’s a good messy situation, huh.”  

“Ui…”  

Chaika nodded.  

What could have caused Chaika to lose part of her memory?  

Or perhaps—  

(Seeing her father’s death firsthand gave her trauma, maybe that’s why?)  

The lord of Del Solant had looked at Chaika and said, “You were supposed to be dead,” his voice was steady with conviction. He was one of the so-called “heroes” who had taken part in killing Arthur Gaz and claimed a portion of his remains. If that was true, then he must have seen Chaika during the assault on the Gaz imperial castle. That would mean she had been there, present in the capital during its final siege. Could it be that witnessing her father Arthur Gaz’s death, the shock of such terror and grief, had shattered her memories and left her with amnesia?

“But…” Chaika murmured softly. “Woke up. Already over. Father—dead.”  

“…I see.”  

Somehow, Toru felt he understood why Chaika was so fixated on collecting her father’s remains for a proper burial.  

Whether or not Chaika was actually at the scene of Arthur Gaz’s death, for her now, with her lost memories, her father’s death was just hearsay.  

“Your father died.”  

“Your country fell.”  

“The war ended.”  

Being told after the fact that it all happened without her knowledge—she couldn’t possibly accept it. The frustration of having her future decided without her input—Toru understood that well.  

The remains of her father, Arthur Gaz.  

By collecting them all, filling the blank years—at last, she could face tomorrow.  

“…Toru?”  

“It’s nothing.”  

Toru said to Chaika, who looked up at him with a curious expression, then turned his gaze toward the exchange.  

Just then, Akari was returning, having finished the parking procedures. For now, while they shopped for food and supplies, the Svetlana had to stay in this parking lot.  

“Good work.” Toru called out to Akari. “How’d it go?”  

“No issues with the procedures. Parking fees are cheap.”  

“The entry tax was low too, right?”  

“About that—”  Akari tilted her head slightly as she spoke. “I heard something interesting.”  

“Something interesting?”  

“The lord apparently has no interest in this town and mostly leaves it alone.”  

“…No interest?”  

Toru furrowed his brow.  

“They don’t even bother collecting taxes properly.”  

“…That’s…”  

What was going on?  

“Good or bad, there’s almost no interference, so the town’s effectively run by a local council. Because of that, there are hardly any tariffs, which has led to thriving trade…”  

“A free city, huh? But…”  

A free city was a policy to boost trade and gather external information quickly, even at the cost of reduced tax revenue… but in truth, it wasn’t as simple as removing all restrictions on city access. It allowed spies and informants to enter freely, so lords typically placed “eyes” and “ears” to indirectly monitor the situation, even if they didn’t interfere directly.  

Yet, around this exchange, there were no such personnel in sight.  

“It’s less a policy and more like they just don’t care, or so I heard.” Akari reiterated. “And the reason is a bit…”  

“What is it?”  

“This area apparently went a long time without a lord, and after the war a new lord was appointed from the central government.”  

So, even if the lord had no interest in governance, the local council could manage the town as it had before.  

But—  

“This lord… Dominica Škoda, according to rumors, massacred a large number of villagers in her previous territory.”  

“…”  

“…”  

Toru and Chaika exchanged glances.  

If Guy’s information was correct, this Dominica Škoda was one of the “heroes.”  

It wasn’t unusual for someone to receive a new town as a fief as a reward after the war. But the talk of massacring villagers suddenly cast a dark shadow over the story.  

“Anii-sama.”  

Akari narrowed her eyes and spoke.  

“Staring at each other pointlessly is forbidden. It’s too late once she get's pregnant.”  

“She’s not gonna get pregnent!” Toru snapped, then crossed his arms again. “But that… it’s definitely an interesting story.”  

Putting aside the villager massacre for now—if the lord had no interest in governance, especially in collecting taxes, could it be because she already had ample wealth?  For example—something like the remains of Emperor Gaz, an unparalleled magical power source.  

“I roughly asked about the lord’s residence. It’s as that Guy person told you, Anii-sama. She’s set up a mansion in the forest so it will take half a day’s travel by mechanized vehicle.” Akari said, looking between Toru and Chaika. “What do we do?”  

“It’s not like there’s no chance it’s a trap…”  

So far, Guy’s information had been entirely accurate, but… he hadn’t mentioned a word about Dominica Škoda’s “villager killer” rumor.  

Was the “villager killer” story just baseless gossip?  

Or—  

“No, hesitating here probably won’t get us anywhere.”  

Toru said, pulling away from the Svetlana’s chassis.  

“Once we finish buying food and supplies—let’s head out. Time to pay a visit to this ‘villager killer’ lord’s face.”