“So, Leo-kun... you couldn't have just used a neck chop or something?”
Isono shone a desk lamp directly into my face. He was sporting a [Military Police] armband today. A Brigadier General getting grilled by a part-time MP—what a world.
Isono was currently giving me grief for knocking the guy out with a throwing technique. I’d have to make him pay for this later.
“Look, Leo-kun, this is a real problem. I don't care if he was an enemy; did you have to hurl him into the toilet? The bowl cracked, and now it has to be replaced.”
My overhead throw had indeed split the ceramic right in two. Apparently, the perpetrator had lost consciousness the moment he hit. Then again, knowing that bastard Isono, he wasn't actually worried about the culprit's well-being.
“I honestly feel bad about the toilet,” I said. “But I was desperate. The culprit is the one at fault here.”
“Come on, man! You're supposed to be a master. Don't you have something more... refined? Like an air throw?”
“I never called myself a master. Besides, things like air throws are more dangerous because you can't control the opponent’s descent.”
I wasn't sure of the formal definitions, but he was likely referring to those nameless techniques people called air throws or breath throws. Those were incredibly lethal if the victim didn't know how to perform a breakfall. At worst, they’d die on impact.
A suplex into a toilet would only result in a major injury at most. I was being kind!
As for the neck chop, if I tried it, I’d probably just snap the guy's neck. How heroes in stories managed to skillfully knock people out with one was a mystery to me. It truly was lost technology.
“So, what about the suspect?” I asked.
“Oh, he still hasn't regained consciousness.”
“And Latarnia?”
“We're considering whether or not to report it.”
“You idiot! Fairy! Send a photo of the suspect to the Latarnia Ambassador! And to Lord Eyens, too!”
Fairy appeared and chirped, “Okaaay~♪” in response.
My interrogation could certainly wait until later.
“Just so we’re clear, this isn't an interrogation; I'm guarding you,” Isono added. “Raven-san and the others are right outside the room. Oh, and I'm a guard, too.”
“That's confusing as hell!!!”
That bastard Isono...
Wait, hold on!
“What about Wifey?!”
“Piggett-san and your other wives are guarding her. Thomas-san is being heavily guarded, too.”
I felt a wave of relief. Immediately after, my stomach growled.
“Hey, Isono... I'm a little hungry.”
“Go eat a nutrient block or something.”
But my heart—and my mouth—was already set on katsudon. It was their fault for cooping me up in a place like this.
“I want katsudon...”
“Are you telling me to go fetch frozen food? You planning to use me as your gopher? You've got some nerve, Mr. Brigadier General!”
“No. I want to cook it... I’m sure there are some already breaded in the freezer.”
They were ones I had prepared myself. I’d even written my name on the package!
“Is there enough for everyone? Because you’re definitely going to be forced to share.”
“Of course! I will accept any challenger!!!”
For some reason, everyone always flocked to the kitchen whenever I started cooking. Nina-san and Kevin were both better at it than me, too.
“Leo... yours has that specific roadside station food court flavor... I get a craving for it every now and then.”
“Isn't that just a polite way of saying it’s heavily seasoned?”
“But that's what makes it good!!! Especially for us athletic types!!! Damn, now I want katsudon, too!!!”
Man, I was starving. Manual laborers in their late teens are basically always hungry. More importantly, I wanted to organize my thoughts while I worked in the kitchen.
Who was it? Who was the idiot who sent an assassin?
Old man Eyens? No way. If it were Lord Eyens, he would have done it much more skillfully. He would have had someone blend in with the locally hired laborers and stopped at simple intelligence gathering. After all, we weren't enemies. At the very least, we’d settled things at the last meeting. He wasn't the type of man to ignore a deal like that.
Latarnia? We weren't enemies there, either. I’d thoroughly researched their religion specifically to ensure I didn't step on any landmines.
Ghouls... but the guy was a Latarnian. A faction of Latarnians who opposed contact with us? That seemed possible. Whenever you try to do something new, there's always opposition. In a society as bound by precedent as Latarnia, there might be vested interests that made a living crushing innovation. That’s the kind of thing that’s completely invisible from a foreigner's perspective. It hides in the social atmosphere.
That was why I was paying advisory fees to the church of Latarnia's largest faction, asking for their input and following proper procedures. Plus, I’d hired lawyers. The Latarnian government even officially evaluated us as 'people who knew what they were doing.'
“Hmm... Hey, Mr. Socially-Adept Isono. Who do you think the culprit is?”
“Don't ask me the hard questions. Figuring that out is your job... Ah, jeez! I'm hungry! If you look at it the simple way, isn't it just internal strife on the pirate side? Someone trying to pull the rug out from under Lord Eyens?”
“Even though if old man Eyens fails, we'll just switch to the Pirate Subjugation Route?”
From the Empire's perspective, either the Pirate Subjugation Route or the Peace Route was fine. As long as this region became peaceful, the goal was achieved. After that, we just needed to trade with Latarnia and the Ogre God Nation and maintain friendly relations. That was all. We had no intention of becoming a hegemonic state. In fact, we didn't have the population to support expansionist policies. The Empire suffers from a chronic low birth rate!
Once we handled the pirates and used the confusion to wipe out the Ghouls, the Empire's security would be guaranteed. We were so close!
“By the way... where did the guy get in from? You haven't let any foreigners onto the ship, right?”
“Maybe just from Latarnia or the Ogre God Nation? We have Latarnians helping with loading and unloading cargo, though that’ll decrease once the factories start operating.”
Actually, Latarnians loved gummy candy. They loved it so much that our entire stock was running out. Specifically, they loved the gaudily colored ones shaped like earthworms—the ones that weren't popular in the Empire. Those mysteriously flavored ones that were incredibly sour and sickly sweet were massive hits. Then there were the cinnamon sweets—everything from hard candy and baked goods to cinnamon juice.
Furthermore, Latarnians were obsessed with root beer flavor... or as we called it, pitch-black compress flavor. Honestly, we only produced those to keep the cultural recipe from dying out, and now we were bewildered by the explosive success. I’d thought we’d just be dumping unwanted stock on them, but they’d requested full-scale production increases. I’d checked with them! I even had the church do a taste test!!! I’d heard the church was now working hard to secure an exclusive monopoly. Scary stuff.
At any rate, it had reached a point where they’d be in serious trouble if we were attacked and decided to withdraw. I’d even offered the recipe to the Latarnian side, but they said they didn't have the infrastructure or culinary culture to make it themselves. That was why we ended up building a factory in Latarnia.
So, what did that mean? It meant a Latarnian had absolutely no reason to kill me. A gummy thief, maybe, but an assassin?
“Ah, jeez, I don't get the motive! I'm just hungry!”
Just as I snapped, a ship-wide broadcast rang out.
“Safety has been confirmed. All personnel, please return to your stations. Brigadier General Leo, please stand by. We are connecting you to a guest.”
They were making a point of letting the entire crew hear it. What did that mean? It meant the Empire was basically saying:
“Hey there, Mr. Assassin. I'm about to NTR your precious little nation. Watch and learn~♪”
Things were getting more chaotic by the second. When was I actually going to get to eat?