WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Omniscient First-Person's Viewpoint

Chapter 155

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Ta-da, I'm Back

Every road ends eventually.

Even the Meta-Conveyor Belt, endlessly circling the military state, still has a point where you have to get off. Aimless wandering has no destination. Maybe a road is, in the end, something you walk to reach the moment when you can no longer go any farther.

This was the Amitenggrad waystation, the most populated city in the military state, and a mockery of the old kingdom's capital.

When I looked up, the city looked like the exact instant a massive bomb had exploded, frozen in time. Gray and black concrete had grown huge and chaotic in every direction, just to fill empty space. Slabs clung together and kept swelling.

Meanwhile, everything that couldn't keep up with the military state sank and got pushed out. Buildings, people, equipment, trash, all of it piled up on the outskirts and looked like the debris of an explosion.

In fact, it was debris. Parts shattered and flung away by the explosion called the military state.

Ah, military state. This damned country.

The Magician has returned.

I was getting sentimental when the captain finished the formalities and followed me. Drivers came out from a line of motor carriages and glanced at us as we stepped off at the waystation. A few of the more proactive ones even walked right up.

"Captain, welcome. It's quite a distance from here to Amitenggrad. Do you need a carriage?"

Before the captain could answer, I raised my fingers and said, "Four people. Can you take us?"

"Of course! Want me to get one ready?"

"Quickly."

Grinning, the driver led us to his motor carriage. The other drivers looked disappointed and waited for different passengers, while some left to haul cargo instead of people.

The captain looked at the mother and son who got off with us and asked, "Four? You're taking them too?"

"Yeah. Call it fate. Let's ride together."

I made the offer to the pair. The mother looked wary at first, but after seeing how exhausted her child was, she accepted with gratitude.

We climbed into the motor carriage the excited driver brought over. Through the window, I could see massive cranes and dragged-in laborers moving busily. Some had been seized by the military state and forced to work, while the rest had joined for day wages. Waystations were always short on hands.

The son fell asleep as soon as he got into the smooth, quiet carriage. The mother laid his head on her thigh and brushed back his hair. A tender smile floated on her lips, as if she had set all her worries aside for a moment.

With the child asleep, the captain and I rode side by side.

The carriage swayed gently as it rolled along a neatly paved road. As the cityscape that had seemed distant came close enough to take in at a glance, the captain kept sneaking looks at me.

Then the carriage reached my destination.

"Ah! Let me off here!"

I raised my hand and called to the driver. The carriage stopped, and the driver, annoyed that I was getting off so soon, only stuck his head out from the front seat.

"Are you sure? This is District 15, far from the center."

"No problem. I have business here."

"Then the fare..."

"Ah, not me. The others are going farther. Captain Bbi, please handle it!"

Normally, the last person to get off pays the fare. So you need the sense to read the room and get off early.

I was just about to boldly leave payment to the person behind me and walk away.

"Wait!"

I was about to wave goodbye when the captain suddenly grabbed my sleeve. I pretended not to understand and asked back.

"What? What is it, Captain Bbi?"

The captain hesitated, then said, "...You are still under suspicion."

"That doesn't mean I can march into the military police on my own, does it? You weren't actually expecting that, were you?"

"Ugh."

"We agreed to go together only as far as Amitenggrad. You and the military state might deny it, but I faithfully fulfilled my labor duty. If you want to lock me up again, bring a warrant."

"B-but!"

"Why? Is there another reason?"

'This officer must deal with you. Or be dealt with. Someone who knows this officer's identity cannot be left roaming free. But...'

"...Classified."

"Huh? What is it? Do you want to stay with me or something?"

"...! Negative! Why would this officer! I repeat: if possible, this officer wants to erase every memory of meeting you!"

"Then it's better to part ways here, isn't it?"

"Urgh...!"

'But I don't want to die. I don't want to kill. I just want to live normally, pretending not to know. If only, like in that prison... we had just been people who occasionally crossed paths through a golem. That would have been better.'

"...Classified!"

What was I supposed to do with this diligent model student?

Hmm. Couldn't be helped.

There's an old saying.

Stay near ink, and you'll turn black. If you hang around bad friends, bad habits rub off on you. So you should make good friends.

So resent yourself for making friends with someone bad like me, Captain. I'll corrupt you myself.

If both of us want to live, we have no choice but to get delinquent enough to lie with a straight face.

"Can't be helped. I'm not the kind of man who stays put. I can't just ignore temptation like this."

"When did this officer tempt you!"

"If you don't want to part, what else is that? We have a one-week grace period anyway, right? Enjoy a short vacation in the meantime. Come on, this way."

I grabbed the captain's arm and led her toward the exit. Only the mother and son were left behind.

No matter how frugal I was, I couldn't make people with no money pay for me too. That would just be fraud.

I took an alchemical coin from my pocket and held it out to the driver.

"Mister! I'll pay in advance, so please take them wherever they want to go!"

"All right. Leave it to me."

The driver grinned at the extra tip. As I got out with the captain, the mother, with her son still inside, bent at the waist to thank me.

"Thank you. I don't know how to repay this kindness..."

"Come on, no need for that. It's fine."

I waved at the mother, smiling brightly.

"Think of it as the remaining balance you were supposed to get. Your plan got messed up because you couldn't collect all your money from them, right?"

For a moment, the mother couldn't process what I said and asked blankly, "...What?"

"Oops, look at me, blocking the way. We're getting off now! Take care!"

I shut the carriage door. Too late, the mother realized a secret she had meant to take to her grave had been exposed, and she immediately tried to get off after me. But on her thigh slept the heaviest paperweight in the world, breathing softly. To her, he was probably heavier than Jizan.

Unable to do anything, she leaned out the window and shouted.

"Wait...! Please, I'm sorry! Forgive me...!"

But whatever. The motor carriage moved on mercilessly. Her desperate cries faded away.

The captain, still unable to grasp the situation, was full of questions.

"Question. What do you mean by remaining balance?"

"It's nothing much. That woman was actually a Resistance collaborator."

I stated it calmly. The captain flinched and stared at the motor carriage driving away.

"Question. How can you prove that's true?"

I couldn't. I'd only read her mind.

But I could still piece together a reasonable explanation. I walked leisurely as I explained, like some detective of the century.

"Containers loaded onto the Meta-Conveyor Belt come in three sizes, but they all have the same design. They have to, so cranes can lift them."

"Affirmative. This officer also knows that."

"Then how did the Resistance identify the fur cargo and jump down from the cliff while hanging by ropes? What if they picked the wrong one?"

That was the problem with boarding the belt from a cliff by rope. If they got onto the wrong cargo, everything was over.

It wasn't like they could run against the Meta-Conveyor Belt, so the Resistance had to identify the target cargo precisely.

So that raises a question. How did they tell it apart? Did they use a communications officer? Did they run faster than the Meta-Conveyor Belt?

No chance.

The captain caught my meaning and her mouth fell open.

"...Collaborator. Did that mother and son signal them from beside the cargo?"

"More precisely, only the mother. The signal was probably a lamp."

If you overload a lamp in a certain way, it gives off a red glow visible even from far away. The Resistance probably taught her how to do it, then used that light as the signal to launch their raid.

After learning the truth, the captain said in a daze, "But they said they lost the lamp..."

"They didn't lose it. She put the lamp on the target cargo. She probably meant to stay beside it, but the kid was too exhausted, so she moved to the windbreak."

You can borrow warmth from a lamp, but you can't conjure a windbreak out of nowhere.

Being a communications officer, the captain connected the information piece by piece in her head. She organized it in silence, then noticed one missing piece and asked:

"...Impossible. Then why did the Resistance attack the side where we were?"

Ahaha, about that.

The truth was, after reading her thoughts, I overloaded my own lamp. Then I placed it a little away from the windbreak.

So the Resistance waiting somewhere would see it clearly.

I just didn't expect them to come down from the mountain!

But I couldn't be bothered to explain, so I gave her a harmless smile and said, "It's a secret."

"Tell me!"

"No. I don't like putting a halo on myself."

Ah, mother. Caring for your son is admirable.

But there was no way a casually placed lamp would stay upright in that wind and vibration.

If things had passed quietly, she would have faced Resistance retaliation for sure. Taking the money and running was one thing, but there was also a high chance she'd report them to the military state.

If you think about it, I actually helped her.

Ten Resistance members ended up dead, but that's just how it turned out. Well, try to understand. That was really just your bad luck. Maybe you could've succeeded if Peerless Spear hadn't been there?

Realizing she'd been sitting beside a Resistance collaborator just moments ago, the captain clenched her fist and glared at me.

"You just said remaining balance. Then does that mean you financially supported a Resistance collaborator?"

"So what will you do? If you chase that carriage right now, you can catch one collaborator. Will you do it?"

"That is the law and the rule. Rules must be followed. Those who break the law are punished, and those who break rules are sanctioned. That promise is what keeps a nation upright."

The captain spoke as stiffly as the military state's formal script in a manual.

"The same applies to you. Financial support to a collaborator. The moment your conditional intent is recognized, you are punished as well!"

"Then what about the child?"

For a brief moment, the captain faltered. In her mind, the face of that sleeping child surfaced. Pain and guilt flashed across her expression.

This was why they needed windowless rooms. If she had to face people directly, even an almost pure-white communications officer could be tainted.

But the captain was used to enduring pain. Enduring even the ache in her own heart, she said coldly, "No problem. The military state operates orphanages for children without guardians."

Right. Those orphanages that make kids work from age six under the name of vocational training. I know them well.

And Captain AB knows it too. That's why she couldn't say anything more and fell silent.

Back in my hometown, I made my way through familiar streets. The captain, lost in thought, followed me in silence.

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