WeTried Translations

Translator: Botanica

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ I Became the Slit-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss

Chapter 19

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Bikada Traveling Troupe (2)

Bikada swallowed his breath as he saw Ortes, who had somehow already arrived before his eyes.

He was flustered, but it was not unexpected. It was common knowledge among the world's mages that high-ranking mages had strange temperaments.

Was this not the same man who had already announced an unscheduled inspection? If anything, the fact that he appeared so boldly to announce the start of the inspection made him seem better than the eccentric old geezers of the Apex Magic Towers.

Those capricious disasters could rummage through the entire troupe without any prior notice, for no reason at all.

"Now then, Guildmaster. Would you first show me the rooms of your troupe members, one by one?"

"Yes..."

Ortes set aside the fierce aura of their first meeting and maintained a rather gentlemanly attitude. He visited the members' rooms guided by the guildmaster, then sent the guildmaster outside the door for a moment to have one-on-one conversations with each member.

There was no sign of the interrogation using magical means that Bikada had feared.

'Does he have the confidence to figure things out just by looking? Perhaps he's carrying an artifact for tracking Geryones's mana signature….'

Ortes's method of examining each room, each person, one by one, was meticulous but not oppressive.

"Could you step outside for a moment?"

Another expulsion order for a one-on-one meeting with the room's occupant.

"But this one is just an apprentice…."

Despite the weak protest, Ortes's decision did not change. Unable to further defy his mood, Bikada quietly nodded.

"Kid. Tell him everything just as it is. You must never hide anything!"

***

Most of the people in the Bikada Traveling Troupe possessed the average personality of a mage in this era.

Meaning they craved pleasure, were sadistic, and held life cheap.

Wild mages not properly affiliated with a Magic Tower often indulged in the power and ecstasy magic brought, wearing their bodies down as they pleased. Most of the troupe members were exactly like that.

And the member I was now facing.

"W-What is it…?"

Was the exact opposite.

A face that somehow seemed naive. Short, cropped brown hair and a small build gave a youthful impression.

Neat hair and flawless skin. There were no marks from classical syringe drug injections, nor neural ports for electronic drug injection.

A human figure completely different from the overall atmosphere of the traveling troupe. That sense of incongruity halted my feet.

However, it was hard to confirm the other's identity based on this alone.

Similarly, beneath the seemingly ordinary body, finely trained muscles were faintly visible. They could be the daily muscles developed from running errands for the troupe.

I slightly opened my eyes. Some of the functions of this damnably heavy eye stole a glimpse of the hidden truth.

The flow of mana hidden beneath the skin became visualized. I controlled my vision, which tried to illuminate all the mana currents in the world, and focused on the target before me.

I excluded the mana circuits that common humans possess. I searched for traces of artificial modification, not natural talent.

Though it was difficult to control my constantly unruly field of vision, finding the residual scent of magic was simple.

Beneath the smoothly trained muscles, high-grade body modification was faintly visible, reinforcing each and every muscle fiber.

It was not cheap enchant-ware that ruined magic circuits with shoddy implants. It was top-quality ware that had magic imprinted directly onto the raw muscle fibers.

A modification far too expensive for an apprentice-level performer in a wandering troupe.

'Whoa. So it really exists.'

A risk factor I hadn't mentioned to Meconion. It was a unique body enhancement method of Blasphemia, the Execution Squad directly under the Ten Towers.

'How should I use this one?'

Most of the Blasphemia I had encountered so far were assassins targeting Karisia. They came knowing Karisia's abilities or appearance, so there was no time to deceive them otherwise.

'But the situation is different now.'

This one does not know who I am, and does not know that Karisia is behind me.

I can use them sufficiently.

I opened my mouth.

***

"To think I'd meet a comrade in a place like this."

"Comrade? What do you…?"

K17, a member of Blasphemia sown across the world by the Ten Towers to enlighten followers of superstition, was flustered by the sudden words.

She had heard that the man before her was a high-ranking official of a newly appeared Magic Tower in this small city. He should have had no connection to Blasphemia, specialists in eradicating superstition.

An old acquaintance?

That couldn't be. Before joining Blasphemia, she had reportedly been left alone in a burned-down village. No hometown remained.

"Pleased to meet you, Pleshion. I am L13."

'Pleshion' was the term used by those belonging to Blasphemia to address each other. In translation, it was close to the nuance of 'comrade.' The simple designation of only numbers and letters was also the codename given to Blasphemia.

K17's demeanor shifted instantly, and she drew a blade at the man who had introduced himself as L13. The interval from pulling a dagger hidden near her thigh to pressing it against his throat was less than a second.

"This is a relic of old times, isn't it? Our standard equipment. Anti-magical gear forged by the Silver Iron Tower."

"Shut up."

Just as K17, lowering her voice, tried to press the blade deeper, the man pushed the tip of the blade away with his finger, slowly.

"I know. That this kind of action violates the secrecy oath. But Pleshion, listen."

"Do you know how many of our oaths you've already broken? Take your own life and preserve your honor!"

With an unblemished smiling face, he pulled a chair from the room and sat down leisurely. His demeanor even seemed casual, with no wariness or hostility to be found.

K17 felt a sense of uselessness from that defenseless appearance. Such a relaxed attitude! Such irreverence, throwing away the great mission entrusted by the Ten Towers!

"First, have a seat. I go by the name Ortes here. And you?"

"...Niobe."

“Nice to meet you, Niobe. Are you having a hard time in a remote area with your Pleshion friends?”

"Hardships? You who occupy a key position in a Magic Tower?"

Niobe glared at Ortes as if she found him absurd. From Niobe's perspective, Ortes was an irreverent man who had abandoned the Ten Towers mission and clung to an outer Magic Tower for luxury.

"Listen well. I have my circumstances. Even if you go back to the Blasphemia branch and search for my serial number, you probably won't find it."

Ortes brought up an old story. Starting with a very old order to investigate Kaicel of Pithos Tower, who was suspected of being a follower of superstition.

The history of past events flashed through Niobe's mind. Kaicel, if she recalled...

"That was decades ago!"

"I came to this city chasing Kaicel, but I failed to lure him out of hiding. Even so, would it not go against our policy to leave a genius who had passed through two of the Ten Towers unattended?"

He recounted the schemes he had carried out over the decades to entice Kaicel. Hacking into Pithos Tower, covert support for Lernian or Geryones.

"And who do you think spread the rumors about the artificial Ten Commandments in this city back in the day?"

But despite all those schemes, Kaicel did not appear.

"I had no choice but to request a return to headquarters. About ten-something years ago."

"At that time..."

Ortes nodded gravely.

"There was that sin committed by the most fanatical follower we failed to capture."

The Flash Mage, once designated as the highest priority for eradication by Blasphemia.

Clashing with Blasphemia for years, he left a massive scar on the entire organization, and was never captured in the end.

It was said that Blasphemia's elite forces had mutual destruction in the Screaming Desert, but their bodies were never found.

"The branch I sent my return request to was one of those destroyed in that chaos. There was no way for a reply to come."

"So. You kept doing your existing mission in Etna City all this time?"

"Exactly. I thought headquarters just didn't answer, so I was to keep on with my work. It was only recently that I learned such a catastrophe had occurred."

The repeated attempts to lure out Kaicel grew in scale, eventually leading to the establishment of an entire Magic Tower. Ortes's explanation was absurd, but...

'It's convincing!'

Niobe herself had been newly recruited after the Flash Mage incident had drastically reduced Blasphemia's manpower.

Even now, Blasphemia had not fully rebuilt, and it was frequent for members performing missions in remote areas to find their reporting branches gone, leaving them bewildered.

The duration was a bit long, but in any case, it was not an impossible story.

"I've lost all means to contact headquarters now. So, would you kindly get in touch on my behalf?"

"Uh, umm..."

Niobe hesitated. She had her own mission as well.

After a moment of thought, Niobe realized something strange.

"Wait. How did you know I was Blasphemia?"

***

She asks the most troublesome question. What would be good to tell Niobe? After a brief thought, I decided to mix truth into the lies.

"Because I know our organization well. Niobe, aren't you infiltrated to verify whether this Bikada Traveling Troupe are followers of Bacchus?"

"...That's right."

"I expected that Blasphemia would naturally dispatch a Pleshion to oversee those committing such superstitious acts. And a Pleshion is bound to remain with a sound mind in the midst of this pleasure and decadence."

It was an answer that combined Blasphemia's modus operandi with flattery directed at Niobe personally.

I know quite a few of the signs used among Blasphemia, but with all that's happened, those signs might have been changed.

Though mages ages cannot be judged by appearance, judging by her actions so far, Niobe was clearly a rookie with little experience.

A rookie who hadn't even received proper mental conditioning. If she were a full-fledged Blasphemia, she wouldn't have disguised herself in a way that revealed such a sense of incongruity.

If this one, with such a human touch compared to typical Blasphemia, was likely to like this answer, which would satisfy the unique need for recognition of a newbie.

***

"Mmm, mmhm!"

Niobe nodded. It was a pure joy she had had difficulty obtaining amidst those who indulged in drugs every night and satisfied sadistic sexual desires with androids.

"Right! I've been trying not to forget my duty as Blasphemia even in this pit of decadence. I really worked hard!"

The pleasure of being recognized by a senior in the same line dulled Niobe's thinking.

A seasoned Blasphemia agent might have read the implication in Ortes's words 'I recognized you because you kept a sound mind', that she had 'failed to disguise herself properly.'

"Impressive. It seems this is your first mission..."

"Yeah. This is my first… someday, I'll become a refined one of the Ten Towers too!"

Niobe was a beginner who had just completed her training.

Seeing Niobe's naivety, Ortes was confident of success.

'Blasphemia is one of the organizations with the most information on divinity. Therefore.'

They were the most suitable people to be used for tracking sacred relics.

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