Entering the building, the first thing I saw was a lobby.
It was spacious enough that, if one were so inclined, a hundred people could have gathered inside to hold a dance party.
From this central hall, corridors branched off toward individual rooms.
Gathered in that lobby were several dozen prostitutes.
Every single one of them fixed their eyes on me as I stepped inside.
Seeing that all of them were reasonably attractive, I reflected that it was entirely fitting for a brothel.
"Is this all of them?"
Turning around, I asked John.
He answered without hesitation.
"Yes, everyone except the three who are testifying at the trial."
"They all look fine on the surface. When rose progresses, it spreads across the entire body, but isn't there anyone in that condition?"
"I found that strange too, but..."
John's expression grew troubled.
In its severe stages, the infectious disease known as rose would cover the entire body in roseola.
If the infection had spread to this many people, it was only natural that several severe cases should have emerged.
Infectious diseases rarely progress uniformly.
Some cases remain mild, while others turn critical.
However, as the overall number of infected individuals increases, a proportional number of severe cases ought to appear—that was simply the nature of an epidemic.
I found the total absence of such cases deeply suspicious.
"Hey, what is this thing really?"
One of the prostitutes spoke up.
She had the sultry, languid cadence typical of women in her line of work.
"The managers tell us it's just bug bites or bedsores, and whenever I ask the customers, they play dumb."
"Is there something on your mind?"
Since she was asking, I replied with a question of my own.
"Well, whenever a girl starts breaking out all the way up to her face, they take her away somewhere."
"What—"
Beside me, John fell silent.
His face made it clear this was the first he had heard of it.
I gave a quiet nod.
"I see."
"What do you mean, 'I see'...? Master, could they have...?"
"He's a man who throws people down wells. It doesn't take much imagination to figure out what happens once it can no longer be hidden."
"...Dammit."
John bit his lower lip in bitter frustration.
Back when we discovered the silencing at the well, John had reacted even more fiercely than Rion.
This cover-up had probably—no, certainly—been going on long before we arrived in Enlil.
The only reasonable thing to say was, "It's in the past, don't dwell on it"—yet I kept silent.
It wasn't something that could be brushed aside so easily.
Turning away from John, I addressed the prostitute once more.
I had deliberately glossed over the silencing just to ask this.
"Do you know where they took them?"
"No idea. But well, it's that sort of thing, isn't it?"
"I see."
I nodded faintly.
While the other prostitutes began buzzing with anxious murmurs of "What does she mean by that?", the woman who had spoken seemed resigned in her own way.
She hadn't been told the facts, but she had put the pieces together.
That was precisely why she had stepped forward now, serving in a sense as a voice for them all.
"Set your mind at ease," I told her first.
Then, I beckoned her closer.
Though slightly wary, she complied and walked up to me.
"What's this? Did you get the urge in broad daylight?"
"Where has it broken out?"
Ignoring her provocation, I got straight to the point.
"You really are a dull man, aren't you?"
"You! How dare you—"
John snapped at her, taking her words as a direct insult to his master.
Normally, anyone would cower before an official who had arrived with a detachment of soldiers, but this woman didn't flinch.
"Well, isn't it true? You're embarrassing a lady here. For an important noble, you don't seem all that interested in women, do you?"
"Heh, perhaps you're right."
When I let out a light laugh and played along with her banter, John backed down.
"Hmm, you're not getting angry."
"If losing my temper would solve anything, I would."
"...Fair enough."
The prostitute stared intently at me for a moment before muttering softly.
She extended her arm, rolled up her sleeve, and revealed the inner side of her forearm.
There lay the blossom-like rash I had grown accustomed to seeing lately—roseola.
It was a rose-colored lesion roughly the size of a circle formed by pressing one's thumb and index finger together.
Showing it to me, she said, "This is the only spot I've got."
"Understood."
With a nod, I reached out my hand.
Apophis.
Inside my mind, I called upon Apophis through the ring.
It was the spirit residing within the Snake Staff, once bestowed upon me by His Majesty.
Well? Can you cure this? I asked.
Apophis answered in a soundless voice, laced with the same mocking undertone that had never faded, even after submitting to my will.
Naturally. It is child's play.
I commanded Apophis to proceed.
My hand began to glow. When I turned my palm upward, the light condensed into a liquid.
It was a purple fluid that looked excessively, undeniably lethal.
Its viscosity was obvious at a glance.
"What's that?"
"Medicine."
"Huh. Are you a doctor or something?"
Smiling without a word, I scooped up an amount roughly the size of a copper coin with my fingertip and smeared it over the rose rash on her arm.
"—Ngh!"
"Does it sting?"
"Yeah! Can't you do something about that?"
"Medicine stings a wound."
"I suppose, but still..."
Even while grumbling, she didn't pull her arm away.
She seemed willing to accept the old adage that medicine stings before it heals.
Her expression changed almost instantly.
In less than a minute after applying Apophis's "poison," the rash faded away before her very eyes.
"It's gone... Incredible."
The prostitute stared at her arm in disbelief.
"Any pain or itching?"
"None, but... you..."
"What is it?"
"I'm no doctor, and I don't know much about this sickness, but I've never heard of something that clears up the second you rub ointment on it."
"That reaction is plenty."
I replied with a smile.
Her honest surprise was all the proof I needed that Apophis's poison had worked its cure.
Yet, despite her body's relief...
Once I said "That reaction is plenty," she seemed slightly put out and pouted her lips.
"What is it this time?"
"What's with the cool act?"
"I wasn't trying to put on an act."
"Hmph, sure you weren't."
"Hey! Do you have any idea who you're talking to?! This is an extraordinary person!"
Unable to tolerate her insolence any longer, John shoved his way into the conversation.
"An extraordinary person?"
"Yes, exactly!"
"Hmm."
She looked me up and down, as if taking my measure.
"Doesn't make a difference to me. This is a brothel. Whether it's a god or the Emperor himself, once a man steps through those doors, he's just an ordinary man."
"Wh-What...!"
John was utterly speechless.
She hadn't said it knowing my true identity, but the bold claim that "even the Emperor is just a man in a brothel" left John entirely floored.
I found the whole thing amusing.
"Haha, is that right? Does that mean you treat every man that way? Even your clients?"
"In front of other people, sure."
"You sound as though you're different when the two of you are alone."
"Yeah. A man like you probably wouldn't understand, but around here, plenty of men walk in clutching coins they spent a month or two desperately saving up. My job is to make sure they leave satisfied for every bit of effort they put into it."
"...I see."
I gave a slow nod and turned back to John.
"John."
"Yes, sir!"
Whether he picked up on my expression, the tone of my voice, or something else entirely, John straightened up and replied with utmost gravity.
"Guard Kegna with everything you have. If you let him die before we deliver him to the execution grounds, I will hold you personally responsible."
"Understood!"
John spun on his heel and strode briskly out of the brothel.
"What was that all about? So that bastard really is getting executed?"
"Yes. Because he treated a woman of your caliber so carelessly."
"Wh-What's with you all of a sudden? Sweet talk like that won't get you anything for free, you know."
"That is a pity."
I gave a playful reply before calling out to the other prostitutes who had been watching our exchange.
Summoning them forward one by one, I applied Apophis's poison to every spot where roseola had flared up.
The moment the ointment touched their skin, the rashes vanished without a trace.
Every single woman widened her eyes in sheer astonishment.
Seeing it done on someone else was one thing, but experiencing it firsthand was entirely different.
"The venom of the rose still lingers within your bodies. I'll have oral medicine prepared for you shortly. Take that, and you should make a full recovery in about a week."
With that, I concluded the treatments for everyone in Kegna's brothel.
Right on cue, as if he had been waiting for the exact moment, Rion stepped inside.
"Lord Noah."
"What is it?"
"I was seizing the bastard's assets and found a suspicious letter in his study, so I brought it over."
"Let me see."
I took the unsealed letter from Rion, pulled the parchment from the envelope, and unfolded it to scan the contents.
"'Ensure that Anne cannot return under any circumstances'... is it?"
I read aloud the most jarring sentence on the page.
"Did you say Anne?"
The first prostitute cried out.
"Do you know her?"
"Well... yeah, about that..."
She averted her eyes, wearing a hesitant, deeply conflicted expression.