Episode 27: Red Star (5)
The air reeked of blood. Headless corpses littered the floor. The lone survivor, half-drenched in blood, knelt before his broken broadsword, clutching his bleeding neck, muttering in disbelief.
“This… this can’t be…”
If it had been a close fight, he might’ve mustered the will to resist. But being slaughtered so one-sidedly—by a single strike—changed everything.
His eyes no longer saw me as human. Were these the eyes soldiers on the northern front cast at great demonic beasts? Eyes beholding the incomprehensible. Barely clinging to sanity, he growled,
“What kind of monster are you…?”
I wiped the blood from my eyes, drove my reinforced armament sword into a nearby headless corpse, and kicked his broken broadsword away. Removing his mask revealed a middle-aged man with a massive scar across his left eye and forehead.
“You’d know, so I’ll ask,” I said.
He gritted his teeth, swallowing blood and spit, glaring at me with his last shred of pride.
“The Star… will… crush monsters like you…”
“Yeah, yeah, I figured you’d say that. I can guess the rest, so shut it.”
I shoved the ledger in his face, filled with dozens of code names for delivery destinations, some referring to human organs. He clamped his mouth shut, vowing silence.
“What are these, and where do they lead?”
No response.
I didn’t expect one. If he’d talked easily, I’d have been more suspicious. Undeterred, I moved to the next question.
“Where are the dissected organs sent?”
“What’s the profit for handing over corpses?”
“Are the corpses used for bio-experiments?”
“Documents or evidence linking to nobles or higher-ups—where are they?”
No answers, as expected. I shifted from broad to specific questions, narrowing the scope, observing his reactions to tighten the net. I studied his physical cues, comparing them to his responses.
It was like feeling an object’s shape with closed eyes, groping to understand its form. I asked varied but subtly related questions. The goal wasn’t to extract information directly.
My aim was to leak what I knew, letting him realize I didn’t fully grasp the organization. Then, I hit with the real question.
“Do you know the Luos Dukedom?”
His eyes flickered briefly before hardening into a poker face. That momentary tremor was undeniable evidence.
“They’re receiving bio-experiment tech from the south,” I pressed.
No reaction.
‘Was I wrong? Or did he hide it too well?’
I kept throwing information, mixing what I was sure of with guesses, gauging his reactions to sort truth from lie. Accuracy wasn’t guaranteed—I relied on his responses.
‘He reacted, but it might’ve been to my leading question. I’ll hold judgment until the next.’
“Was the procedure meant to artificially induce Aura use?”
Realizing my tactic, he erased all expression, closing his eyes as if refusing to see or hear.
“Just kill me already,” he said.
More questions yielded the same response. I pulled my sword from the corpse, its blade blackened from absorbing blood and flesh. Feeling its enhanced power and Aura, I drove it through his thigh. Forcing his eyelids open, I asked again.
“Did you know the emperor was already aware of your group?”
His face stiffened. I’d confirmed all I needed. Smiling faintly, I withdrew the sword. The wound collapsed like a deflated balloon, the blade having consumed his flesh and blood.
“As you wished.”
Fear finally hit him, and he struggled, but the sword cleanly severed his neck, rendering his efforts futile. I dragged out the worker called Number 11 to locate more evidence. A safe was found, but he didn’t know the code. So, I cut it open with a Wave.
Inside were documents, transaction records, and delivery schedules linked to nobles—solid evidence tying to the higher-ups.
‘Grounds to raid the estate are secured.’
To uproot the Red Star, cutting off middlemen and sowing distrust wasn’t enough. The bigger secrets lay deeper. My plan was to storm the noble estate at the heart of the Red Star and secure evidence.
I moved to rendezvous with Astier at the warehouse. After dealing with the workers and guards, I checked the sealed containers in the corner. As the workers had said, each box held dissected corpse parts. Some, marked with red labels for immediate transport, had unverified contents. I carefully broke the seal.
The top was piled with flour. Brushing it aside revealed a discrepancy—the box’s interior was larger than it appeared externally. A double structure. Prying open the false bottom with my sword, I felt a chill. Inside was a remarkably preserved corpse, showing no decay, as if it had just died.
I recognized the face—a soldier from the northern front, one who’d fought in the subjugation. To end up like this…
I examined his wounds. A deep gash ran diagonally from his left shoulder to his side, piercing his heart—a testament he never retreated until death.
I didn’t ask for much. Respect for the dead. Honor for those who fell protecting others. I believed they deserved that and more.
“…”
Even in death, his dignity was stolen, reduced to experimental material, a priced commodity discarded in this warehouse corner. A laugh escaped me, its meaning unclear even to myself.
I checked the box’s base. A carved brand read: ‘LVN-Lower Hybrid 012-Southern Line’.
Clear evidence. Proof of the Red Star’s connection to the south.
‘It’s confirmed.’
I cross-referenced some code names from the ledger with the brand. There were matches. The Red Star’s dealings with the south were no longer speculation but reality.
Astier appeared moments later, nodding calmly as always.
“The documents?” I asked.
“Secured. And you?”
She handed me a red-covered official document and bloodstained papers. I flipped through the document. It listed the Red Star’s first contact with the south, test subject inventories, and encrypted noble sponsor codes—some matching the ledger.
Astier offered me a candy, a habit and part of her routine, and asked quietly,
“What now?”
I closed the ledger and popped the candy into my mouth.
“They’re already reacting. If we delay, the evidence might vanish.”
“I’ll follow your judgment, Duke.”
“As planned, we destroy the corpse disposal site and head straight for the Luos Dukedom.”
As I drew my sword, raising a Wave—
“!”
Astier’s body slumped into mine. Blood seeped from her, clutching evidence of the Red Star. Cold sweat drenched her neck. Inspecting her quickly, I saw her pressing her abdomen.
“W-Wait—”
Ignoring her, I lifted her robe. A stab wound was revealed, surrounded by countless others. Her makeshift first aid was crude. Even if she held on, she had two hours at most.
Blood still leaked despite her pressure. There was no time or need for deep thought. Seeing her injuries, I made my decision.
“We’re pulling out.”
“No… we have to finish…” she protested.
I ignored her cleanly. She’d said she’d follow my judgment. Despite her weak resistance, I hoisted her up.