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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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[Currently, the Holy Cross Brigade, under the escort of the Republic’s Air Force, is landing at an airport adjacent to Saint Francis as it enters Bostanian airspace.]
[Look at this crowd of citizens! Everyone is welcoming our Holy Cross Brigade!]
[The first person to step out of the military transport aircraft is Major General Heinz Bismarck, commander of the Holy Cross Brigade.]
[Major General Heinz Bismarck is a war hero who served at the ‘Graveyard’ Fortress, where the most dangerous and fierce battles against the Titans took place in the past Great War. He has inherited the will of the now-retired legendary war hero Major General Luthers Edan to continue the endless peace and tranquility of humanity….]
Click.
Werner Grimm picked up the remote and turned off the TV screen.
“They only call me a war hero at times like this….”
“You’re right about that.”
At Werner’s remark, Lieutenant Colonel John Hobbes clicked his tongue in agreement.
John had already risen to a position of great responsibility in the Strategic Security Agency.
As the loyal pillar of Director Werner Grimm, he often set the organization straight.
As the head of the busy Security Agency, who was often out on business trips, it was natural for troublemakers to emerge within the organization.
Lieutenant Colonel John Hobbes, who held the position of chief of staff just below the director, caught those troublemakers one by one and sent them off to other units.
However, there was one person even he couldn’t handle.
“Director, are you in?”
“Tsk, that Rudolf bastard.”
“As expected, you’re with Chief of Staff John. I apologize for the interruption.”
“No, it’s fine, come in.”
“Then I’ll come in.”
As the door to the director’s office opened, a man with neatly combed hair entered.
Lieutenant Colonel Rudolf Lössman, the head of the Operations Planning Office of the Strategic Security Agency.
He was one of the high-ranking officials who had parachuted into the agency from above when the Security Agency was promoted to a brigade-level unit.
Not only did he hold a key position in the Operations Planning Office, which was equivalent to the operations department in other field units, but he also didn’t bother to hide the fact that he had entered the Security Agency on the President’s orders, making him a very difficult person to deal with.
“I’ve organized the data you requested. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”
“Nothing for now.”
“Hmm… It seems that other departments are constantly receiving work, except for the operations department, which is the most important and busy. Have I done something wrong…?”
Rudolf Lössman asked, pushing up his black horn-rimmed glasses.
“It’s not like that, so don’t worry.”
Werner waved his hand, dismissing his question.
“…Are you being sincere?”
“I’m not playing favorites, it’s just that your ability as the head of the office is excessively superior compared to other department heads. You should think about your subordinates, shouldn’t you?”
“Director, if you keep going like this, I’ll have no choice but to report it to the higher-ups.”
“Report? I’m your superior, so who are you talking about reporting to?”
Werner, who had tried to let it slide with a reasonable attitude, stood up from his seat, his eyes flashing.
Just a single glare was enough to freeze the air with an overwhelming presence.
Lieutenant Colonel Rudolf, who directly faced that murderous energy, quickly averted his gaze and stepped back.
The dignity of a war hero tempered through tens, hundreds, thousands of deaths.
It wasn’t something the President’s parachute could easily endure from the beginning.
“Think straight. Who are you closer to right now, Lieutenant Colonel?”
“…”
In the end, the one who backed down this time was also Lieutenant Colonel Rudolf Lössman.
From the very beginning of his appointment, he had clearly opposed Werner, but he had never gained the upper hand even once.
It meant that the name of Werner Grimm—the legendary Lion of Defense and the Empire’s Watchman, Luthers Edan—had a firm grip on the Security Agency.
In the first place, the fact that Werner had accepted them who were not on his side without question demonstrated his confidence.
It was also to prevent the President from easily finding fault with him.
Even if he blatantly appointed his own people, he would only growl and not actually make a move.
That fact alone could be used as a card to restrain the actions of Mikhail Bismarck, who was incurably suspicious.
Being too subservient was suspicious.
Reacting too much was also suspicious.
The minimum right exercised by Werner Grimm as the director of the Security Agency, not as the war hero Luthers Edan.
This much was enough.
Rudolf silently saluted Werner and disappeared the same way he had come in.
The documents he had claimed to have completed were not even put down before he disappeared, so the documents were just for show.
John, who had been watching the scene, gritted his teeth.
“That crazy bastard. Doesn’t it seem like his interference is getting more and more intense?”
“He probably intends to poke and prod some more. If the President really did release the Titans that were being cultivated in the underground of the Armaments Bureau into Saint Francis… It must bother him that I’m from the same unit as Charlotte.”
“What should we do? Should we just dunk him? Director, I think you could cleanly make it look like an accident—.”
“Don’t say that, even as a joke.”
Werner raised his hand to calm John down.
A true predator stalks its prey and holds its breath only for the most optimal hunting opportunity.
It wasn’t time yet.
In the first place, not all the pieces of the puzzle had come together.
Swift action, decisive result.
A complete operation.
Even if he failed, he still had one more chance left.
As always.
Because he would selflessly throw away his life this time too to achieve the best possible outcome.
Werner, who had been silently snapping his fingers, soon got up from his seat and put on his coat.
“Where are you going?”
To the chief of staff’s question, Werner answered simply.
“Red Street.”
The night in the middle of the day.
Whether it was winter or summer, Werner headed towards the red-light district of the capital that constantly drew in masculine energy.
It was to meet Dorothy, one of the cornerstones of the tombstone.
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The capital of the Empire.
Hoenbaren.
The cradle of the Empire’s culture and the starting point of history, producing countless artists and giving birth to outstanding figures.
But they say where there is light, there must be shadow.
Hoenbaren was the original base of operations for Don Matteus the so-called Godfather, one of the cornerstones of the tombstone.
It was also the main stage where the Murder Ghost Legorodo was active, and the city where the still-unsolved Friday the 13th Massacre incident perpetrated by Legorodo took place.
It was also in Hoenbaren where the White Captain Saloca blossomed his abilities and began his work as a proper information broker.
The light of the Empire, which had remained steadfast even in war, had shadows that were just as deep and dark as its light.
Dorothy, the Empire’s top pimp and drug dealer, also had her largest nest in Hoenbaren.
The entire street was painted with red lights.
Inside the glass windows set up in various stores, which showed everything clearly inside, women in attire worse than being naked were seducing males with captivating dances.
And that wasn’t all.
A musty fragrance wafted from various places, not only smoking drugs in the form of cigarettes but also “zombie drugs” that sucked the spirit of love right out.
People with empty eyes staring into the void, holding a syringe in one hand, were sprawled on the ground.
It was truly a gathering place of twisted desires.
Werner slowly walked down the street with his hat pulled down low.
The prostitutes who had been seducing him with all sorts of vulgar gestures turned their heads in unison.
Some stood in a stiff posture, completely devoid of any sexiness, while others hurriedly turned around and disappeared from his sight.
Because they could die if they weren’t careful.
Of course, not by that man, but by the fox who was eyeing that man.
At that moment.
A man, either intoxicated by drugs or alcohol, staggered towards Werner.
“Hey, you fucker…! Who are you, you bastard! If you come here dressed so neatly, do you think the prostitutes will treat you better?!”
It was a common occurrence in the red-light district.
Men who were intoxicated by something couldn’t control their moods and picked fights over strange things.
Having visited Red Street more than once or twice, Werner simply walked on his way without even sparing a glance.
Yeah.
Normally, the other party would have given up by this point.
At most, they would just shout obscenities at him as he walked away.
But for some reason, today a fly persistently stuck to Werner.
“You son of a bitch! Can’t you hear me?! You fucking… Do the prostitutes and customers all think I’m a cockroach?!”
The man pulled out a small pistol from his pocket.
As the onlookers who recognized its shape immediately screamed and scattered in all directions, Werner could no longer ignore it.
If the police rushed in because of the gunshot, it would disrupt today’s plan.
“Wh-what, you fucking bastard! Are you scared now that you see the gun? Hehehehehe…!”
Werner’s eyes flashed.
He naturally moved his body and picked up a pebble lying on the ground.
He was about to throw the rock at the man’s forehead or eyes and then approach him right away….
“!?! K-kugh, gaaah—.”
The moment Werner was about to make his move in earnest.
A large man who appeared behind the man threatening with the gun fiercely strangled his neck.
The man struggled in pain as his breath was blocked, and his flailing legs soon went limp.
“I apologize, Director. You had to witness an unsightly scene.”
Drake Brown, no, a man who was even bigger in size, smashed the swiftly subdued man onto the ground and bowed his head towards Werner.
Red Bear Rosenwald.
He was Dorothy’s closest aide and the de facto manager of Red Street.
“Please come in. Madam has been waiting for you eagerly.”
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