Chapter 97: Chapter 97

It wasn't only his face that had turned white as a sheet.

At Yaan's sudden barrage of questions, Marek's mind went blank, but Yaan didn't stop there-he kept closing the distance.

"What did you tell them? How much did you find out? Who sent you? How have you been contacting them?"

Yaan's dark pupils, drawing nearer and nearer.

And that emotionless gaze was fixed on him.

Reeling from the machine-gun questions, Marek took a step back, but soon summoned every ounce of will to pull himself together.

'Even without any guards around, I can't beat that guy. Then...!'

With that thought, Marek's eyes flicked toward Ren.

Instantly retreating to open some distance, Marek snatched Ren's body in the blink of an eye.

In his left hand he held a pistol.

"Don't move! One more step and...!"

The one who answered wasn't Yaan-it was Ren.

And the next instant, Marek-who had seized Ren-was soaring through the air.

In that split second, he couldn't even grasp what had happened to him.

It didn't end with simply being flung.

The earthen wall that caught Marek's body couldn't withstand the impact and crumbled, pinning him so thoroughly he couldn't budge.

The agony racing down his spine was more than even he-hardened by long training-could endure.

It felt like taking a direct hit from a colossus's fist.

"Trying to take Ren hostage? Your intel is way off."

"The gap between info you get from looks and the real thing. The maintenance crew used to make that mistake too."

While Irene, who hadn't yet grasped the situation, looked bewildered, Yaan spoke-and Marek, reeling from the unexpected blow, struggled in the rubble.

"This... this can't be happening...!"

"Did you think I brought her along for no reason?"

Buried beneath the remains of the wall, Marek couldn't hide his confusion as he watched Yaan approach.

The 87th Independent Company's garrison, deep in the night.

A guard formerly of the garrison troops flinched at the dreadful scream from the basement and tried to peer inside.

But a Penal Corps member shoved his face in front of the guard, baring his teeth in a grin.

"Sorry. Kinda loud, ain't it?"

"N-no... excuse me..."

Overcome by the inexplicable dread in that smile, the guard shrank back and stared straight ahead as if nothing had happened.

"Too noisy. Maybe next time we'll gag him?"

"Then he couldn't talk."

"Not like he's talking anyway, right? We'll let him loose after three more rounds."

The soldier who spoke-shrugging-sat on a worn wooden table and began trimming his fingernails with an army sword.

"You keep sharpening with that, you won't have any nails left."

"Shut up. Gotta do something."

While the men bantered, Marek-covered in blood and bound to a chair-coughed violently.

"Even after all this, he won't talk. He's no ordinary guy."

"If he's the rat that sneaked into our unit, he's trash anyway."

The two Penal Corps members in charge of the torture smacked their lips; Yaan, watching, tilted his head.

"We've crushed every finger except three, burned him ten more times-amazing willpower."

One of the soldiers approached Yaan and handed him a document.

In his hand were Dandel's compiled personal file on Marek and the latest report.

"Just as expected. That bastard Hiram..."

While Yaan muttered over the papers, the interrogator shook his head and asked,

"Won't work. This won't make him talk. We should just kill him..."

"No. He'll talk now."

Saying so, Yaan stepped up to Marek, who still hung his head, and spoke slowly.

"Marek Starling. What did Belkuth promise you?"

"Bel... kuth? I don't... know... cough!"

Seeing Marek still refuse to open his mouth, Yaan sighed.

There's one sure way to break a man this stubborn and make him a pawn... nine times out of ten.

"Marlen Starling. Lives in Housing Block 22, Vailsar. Your younger sister-right?"

Marek, who had kept his head down without a word, snapped it up at the name.

The chair he was tied to rattled under the strain.

"How did you find out?! No-if you lay a hand on my sister...!"

"She's already dead."

At those words, Marek's voice stopped.

As if time itself had frozen, he sat rigid, unmoving.

"Wh-what do you mean? I saw her three months ago..."

"Estimated date of death: January 19. Our source confirmed it."

"Th-the very next day?"

Marek glared at Yaan as though to say it had to be a lie.

They were using psychological warfare while he was dazed from torture-trying to rattle him with lies.

Even as he told himself that, Marek couldn't hide the flicker of unease on his face.

"L-lies! They promised... they'd treat Marlen's illness...!"

"Mana-core underdevelopment causing mana poisoning. No cure. You were deceived."

To Marek, who screamed denial, Yaan held out a small bundle.

Freed on the company commander's order, Marek offered no resistance; with trembling hands he took the bundle.

Inside were strands of light-brown hair-

his sister's, unseen for three months.

"Ma-Marlen's hair..."

"We recovered it from a Vailsar slum sewer. Said they'd held the funeral."

Yaan handed Marek the papers he'd been holding.

Marek let the documents fall; the Lorenz seal was stamped on them, along with sketches of the scene and his sister's face.

"I'll ask again. The Belkuth contact who was to meet you-where?"

Yaan's face twisted as he tried to continue.

Marek, clutching his hair, had lost all the resolve and will that had endured torture; only tears streamed endlessly.

Holding his sister's hair to his chest, Marek sobbed as if he could hear nothing more.

"I was wrong. He's broken."

The greater the heart that seeks to protect or cherish, the deeper the loss when it is gone.

Watching Marek cry like a madman, the Penal Corps members quietly clicked their tongues.

After gazing at him for a moment, Yaan drew a pistol from his holster.

"C-Company commander! He's just a man tricked by Belkuth-killing him...!"

Irene, who had entered the torture chamber with the commander, shouted urgently, but a weak voice cut her off.

"If you do that... I'll tell you everything."

It was Marek's voice, sounding as if he had let go of everything.

"With your link to Belkuth severed, I'm willing to use you as an informant. Won't you join us and take revenge?"

At Yaan's final question, Marek slowly shook his head.

"No. Without Marlen in this world... nothing matters."

When Marek answered Yaan's question in a flat voice, Irene, hearing it, clenched her eyes shut.

Unlike her, who had chosen the option Yaan offered, he had refused it.

Marek, his spirit broken and life abandoned, could no longer remain in this unit.

Saying so, Yaan raised the pistol and aimed it at Marek's forehead.

"...Southern Runes, Pier Three. That's the rendezvous point."

"Zurk. A middle-aged man in the Liberation Army. Blond. Scar on his left eye."

Marek's lips opened toward Yaan, who raised a question at the unexpected affiliation.

"More precisely, an Imperial merchant backing the Liberation Army. He supplies them with ammo and metal raw materials."

"Wasn't he on Belkuth's side? Why would he support the enemy, the Liberation Army?"

"I don't know that far. One thing's certain-the money he uses to back the Liberation Army comes from Hiram Belkuth."

Hiram is backing the Liberation Army from behind.

Whether for political reasons or some other purpose.

'A mere informant. And one from the Penal Corps-Marek's testimony will carry no weight, so there's no need to hide it from him?'

The information Marek gave cannot politically pressure Hiram.

But at least the fact that Hiram is inciting the colony rebellion has reached Yaan.

"From the Belkuth family's standpoint, one disposable trash has simply vanished-no big deal."

After infiltrating an informant using family as leverage, the family used as bait had long since been killed.

This was the moment the virtuous, noble façade of Belkuth was stripped away.

"Let me tell you one thing for certain. Marek Starling."

Speaking slowly, Yaan addressed Marek, who had lifted his head.

"Because of the information you gave, every Belkuth puppet infiltrated in this colony will die."

At Yaan's words, Marek's eyes widened.

His face looked as if he couldn't believe it.

"At least a thousand men. Your unit of fewer than fifty can't handle that..."

"Think it's impossible?"

Saying so, Yaan smiled at Marek, who nodded.

"Believe it. The Belkuth scattered through the colony will be destroyed because of you."

With those words, Yaan pulled the trigger at once.

No last words, no final message needed.

A single gunshot, and Marek's body collapsed.

Marek's face, breath gone, wore a faint smile.

"Dispose of the corpse."

The Penal Corps members nodded and began collecting his body.

Watching with bitter eyes, Irene followed Yaan as he left the room after gazing at the scene.

Lighting a cigarette, Yaan exhaled smoke from his lungs.

Following the rising smoke, a large moon shone clear in Rubran's sky.

"You look unconvinced. Like earlier today."

"You don't have to accept it."

Cigarette burning, Yaan spoke to Irene while looking at the sky.

"I told you before. You have to get used to this kind of work."

At his words, Irene nodded, and Yaan looked at her.

"But that doesn't mean you have to agree with my methods. Following a war-loving brat like me, who only knows this way, won't get you anything."

"But, company commander, you always get results. Even the intel we gained today..."

They had uncovered the link between Belkuth and the Liberation Army, securing the infiltration route.

In one stroke, they had obtained a path to strike at the core of the Liberation Army.

"I always achieve results the worst way possible. That's my limit."

Saying so, Yaan gave a slight smile.

Using the sister's existence to endure pain, he had shown her death and shattered his mind.

Not petty sympathy to reveal the truth, but planned deceit after torture.

The one who had broken Marek's mind for information had been Yaan himself.

"I and those who follow me are all villains. But you and Dandel are different."

Torture, assassination, kidnapping, massacre.

Veterans from the Kerdan front who had done every dirty job, and new recruits culled from vicious criminals.

Among them, Dandel and Irene were somewhat alien.

"I and those guys have no future, but you do. So think carefully."

Saying so, Yaan patted Irene's shoulder a couple of times and returned to quarters.

"Company commander..."

Irene called Yaan softly, but could only watch his departing figure.

Continued in the next episode.