WeTried Translations
Translator: Botanica
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ I Became the Slit-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss
Chapter 21
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Blasphemia Branch (1)
Divius called Ortes into his workshop. It was only natural. In order to fit the artificial skin to be layered over his body, it was necessary to precisely measure the wearer’s own physique.
However, Divius had not called Ortes solely for the task assigned to him.
He felt curiosity toward Ortes.
Vassals, beings created to serve a single master from birth to death. Divius believed Ortes was a Vassal created for Karisia.
What kind of thoughts do such beings live with? What manipulation had been done to their brains to make that possible?
Surgery? Prolonged brainwashing? Or interference at the genetic level?
How regrettable. Or was it the kind that could be ‘clicked’ into place with a type of magic that manipulates the mind?
How do they think of the master they must serve for their entire lives?
“What the President wants is simply fake skin that can pass Blasphemia’s skin authentication procedures, correct? Not modification at the muscle fiber level?”
“Of course. I’m also afraid of getting cut in the body.”
It was a ridiculous joke. He had never seen that smile distort even in the midst of a battlefield rampant with blood and blades.
But since he himself had thrown out the words, it could be used to test him.
“Oh? Then which is scarier, an angry boss or a blind knife?”
“The President. Isn’t that obvious?”
Oho, so it’s control through fear?
Divius examined Ortes’s complexion beyond the helmet. But Ortes’s face, even as he was evaluating ‘the President is scary’ statment, he was completely composed.
***
That doctor. I already figured him out from the moment he liked that avant-garde fashion of wearing a white coat over his underwear and just a helmet.
As expected, he’s not in his right mind.
Comparing someone who holds a blade in hand to someone who shoots beams from hand, of course the beam-shooter is scarier.
I answered calmly.
“Isn’t it the same from the Director’s standpoint? That the President is fearsome.”
After all, who is the employer that pays the directors? From an employee’s position, the employer is inevitably a fearsome being.
***
The retort, ‘Are you not also afraid of Karisia?’ was the truth.
Because of the possibility that Karisia’s true identity might touch the upper echelons of the Ten Towers, including her high-level magical prowess.
‘Come to think of it, Karisia and Ortes knew that I once handled Blasphemia’s modification surgeries….’
If so, this was not simply a warning, but a message.
A statement that ‘you should rightly fear Karisia.’ An implication that whatever identity you think Karisia has, she is a more fearsome being than that.
“You got me. Was that taught from the Tower?”
It was a ‘noble’ use of language, to use an old-world metaphor. A delicate warning using metaphorical language. It seemed the direct line of the Ten Towers gave a considerable level of education to the attendants serving them.
“The Tower? Nothing like that. I just learned it through rolling around.”
‘What is this guy talking about.’
The fear of not getting paid by one’s employer is the universal sorrow of all office workers across the world. Ortes shrugged.
***
The results of Ortes’s body measurements were ordinary. If anything, the magic power control seemed high, not a single mana field being emitted externally was detected.
It would be mana compression, an essential technique for high-level combat mages to conceal their presence. Understanding this on his own, Divius brought out enough biofiber to cover Ortes’s entire body.
“If you can hide your mana field to that degree, you won’t be detected due to the sense of diversity with the mana granted to the artificial skin. Still, just in case, would you emit some mana?”
Ortes shook his head.
‘I expected as much.’
Mana attribute analysis results are not shared with just any Tower member unless they are a close aide. Because the unique mana attribute of that mage can provide clues as to what magic they use and how to defeat them.
Divius abandoned his attempt to dig into Ortes and started on his main task. He finely cut the biofiber to size and assembled it as if sewing.
Precision processing at the micro level. He wove the passageways for the power of the seal Karisia would bestow, and the Blasphemia-specific muscle fiber patterns that serve as a kind of fingerprint in inspection procedures.
Between processing the artificial skin, Divius threw questions at Ortes. They seemed like trivial personal questions, but in reality, they were a means to understand the mental structure of the Vassal.
And just in case, the possibility that he wasn’t a Vassal.
“Isn’t it hard working under the President? She seems to be entrusting you with more work than most directors.”
“I consider it a sign of trust.”
An immediate reply that came out in less than a second. Divius revised his thoughts.
‘There’s no way this kind of person isn’t a Vassal.’
‘Is this guy trying to assassinate me? Does he know what happens if I whine to Karisia about not wanting to work?’
Ortes seriously wondered if Divius disliked him. Was that guy strong in his desire for power? Is he seeing me as an obstacle to his advancement?
‘Well if he wants to be the closest aide, I could hand it over...’
Imagining someone other than himself existing as Karisia’s close aide, Ortes felt an unexpected displeasure.
His goal was to quit someday and live well and eat well. If he quit, he would naturally have to separate from Karisia. So what was the problem?
‘Ah.’
It was not yet time to quit.
‘It’s 2076 right now. I can’t say I’ve completely prevented the possibility of the world being destroyed when the protagonist who will resurrect in 2077 clashes with Karisia, so I can’t quit for a while.’
Nodding his head, Ortes added a remark.
“It’s not that I like the work either.”
Hearing that, Divius added a line to his notes.
<Vassals are presumed to show unconditional affection and loyalty to their master.>
***
An unexpected dropout occurred in the Bikada Traveling Troupe. It was Niobe, who had met Ortes.
“No. For what reason do you want to leave, so suddenly?”
Bikada, who had heard directly from Ortes that Niobe ‘had talent in magic,’ was planning to sell her off for a high price someday.
Since she was an orphan who had been dazzled by the flashy appearance when she first joined the troupe, saying she didn’t want to starve, she was an asset that would leave no trouble even if sold secretly. He even had a solid self-justification that life in a Magic Tower as a researcher would be better than this wandering life.
But if she openly said ‘I’m leaving’ in front of the other members like this, it was hard to forcibly hold her back.
“I’m scared. That man.”
She was talking about Ortes, who had visited last night. Was she terrified after seeing a high-ranking mage for the first time in her life? Of all times. Bikada frowned.
“It’s already over. Don’t do that. Even if you leave, leave with us and at the next city-”
“That man will be watching! You saw him too, Uncle! That creepy…”
“Shh, shh!”
Hydra Corporation’s power is strong. It’s possible there is still surveillance on them, who were considered Geryones’s associates. If she says the wrong thing, sparks might fly.
“I’m getting out of here. I’m leaving here.”
With such strong resolve, Bikada could no longer make excuses to hold her back. Regretting the money he might have earned by selling Niobe, he let her go.
Of course, Niobe wasn’t leaving because she was afraid of Ortes.
Far from leaving Etna City, Niobe went to the Hydra Corporation building.
To meet the senior Blasphemia agent, Ortes.
***
“She really came.”
My impression upon seeing the kid looking around the company lobby on CCTV. She’s not a little kid waiting for her dad’s office, but she looked around with curiosity, seeming quite naive.
The Blasphemia mages I had clashed with constantly were never so defenseless.
“Hmm. She looks quite young. Is it a disguise?”
“No. She seemed to be genuinely around that age. It appears she’s a new recruit conscripted after the conflict with us.”
“Then please take good care of the guest. Or rather, you’re the one going to be received, right?”
I nodded. Since I’m following that kid to the Blasphemia branch, technically I am the guest.
“Give me a generous travel allowance.”
Karisia let out a short ‘ha’ and waved her hand.
“If things go wrong, you can flip it over. Just come back without getting hurt.”
***
“Director Arabel, are you ready?”
“Ah, seriously….”
Arabel swallowed the curse that was about to escape. Modify an already small drone to be even more stealthy.
So that it won’t be detected even when infiltrating a secret organization.
Preferably within one night.
‘What kind of unreasonable request is this….’
Sighing, Arabel handed over a small box.
“It’s the smallest one I have. It will turn on by itself the moment you open the box. From then on, I’ll be controlling it directly, so release it near the database.”
***
Niobe, who had been looking around the Hydra Corporation lobby, heard clear footsteps in her ears. Click, clack.
Neat footsteps and undisturbed breathing. The unique gait of those who have received professional training.
“Have you waited long?”
Looking at the senior who seemed decades behind the times, Niobe nodded with a proud expression.
“Not at all! Let’s hurry and go report our return!”
She had heard many times that as most of Blasphemia’s most senior members disappeared, the organization’s tacit knowledge had been severed. Though this senior was a scatterbrain who had been stranded for decades, a senior was a senior.
If she returned this senior, who held the old Blasphemia’s know-how, to the organization, she would receive a great reward. Filled with hope, Niobe hurried her steps.
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