Chapter 259

Chapter 259

There is an old saying: "Tosa Gupaeng."  

It means that once the hunt is over, the hunting dog is eaten. The meaning still holds true today. That must be why the saying has survived.  

'No matter what anyone says, I am nothing more than a hunting dog in the end.'  

I track. I tear things apart. The nature of my work has not changed much from the past to the present.  

'Once the hunt is over...'  

I looked up. Despite it being night, the sky over Border City was bright due to the city's light pollution. Beams of light swept across the clouds.  

'...the dog is eaten.'  

But in other words, as long as the "hunt" is ongoing, the "dog" will not be eaten.  

Perhaps I am safest as long as I keep chasing Kinuan.  

'I am the only one who can properly track Kinuan.'  

Many want to find Kinuan. Because of this prey, they have no choice but to treat me well.  

It was almost laughable. The greater Kinuan’s crimes and corruption, the more valuable I became.  

It almost felt like Kinuan was protecting me.  

“Hah.”  

A laugh without warmth escaped my lips as I walked through Border City.  

Wuuuuung—  

I arrived at one of the few aerial vehicle terminals in Border City. In Akbaran, such terminals were a dime a dozen, but here, they were rare.  

At the terminal, a personal aerial vehicle awaited me—Ismael's.  

Viiing—  

The door of the six-seater aerial vehicle swung upward at an angle. The interior was clean and pristine. Ismael was seated inside.  

I gave a slight nod as I entered, and Ismael returned the gesture.  

I glanced at the driver’s seat—it was operating autonomously.  

"Destination: Son Seok-jae’s residence."  

- Understood. Destination: Son Seok-jae's residence.  

A mechanical voice answered Ismael’s command.  

We were en route to Son Seok-jae’s home. Ismael turned to me and spoke.  

"Thank you for accepting my invitation, Luka."  

"You also accepted my request for a special lecture, Deputy Minister. If I receive something, I return the favor. I prefer fair relationships."  

Ismael had invited me to a meal with Son Seok-jae. His intentions remained unclear, and he had yet to share them with me.  

'Do not ask about what the other party has not yet revealed.'  

I reminded myself of this rule when dealing with superiors. If it were someone else, I might have probed a little, but Ismael was not the type to leave out explanations without reason. If he was not saying anything, there was a reason for it.  

The aerial vehicle ascended smoothly, defying gravity with ease. As expected of a high-ranking official’s transport, its stability control was exceptional.  

Wuuuuung—

The aerial vehicle floated steadily, maintaining a constant altitude. This space was, in effect, a sealed chamber.  

"Thanks to you, we successfully concluded negotiations with G&G. I’ve submitted a report acknowledging your contributions, so no one will be pressuring you for immediate results—at least for a while."  

"I'm glad to hear I was of help."  

I responded out of formality and briefly turned my gaze to the window. The nightscape of Border City spread out below.  

As we traveled, Ismael shared information about internal affairs. Some of it was true, and some of it was likely false.  

"We have high expectations of you. No one close to the Imperial Household has ever defected before. The Imperial Family is shrouded in secrecy—from the direct bloodline to the collateral branches."  

"Secrecy is the key to divine authority. In the Empire, the Imperial Family is regarded as the descendants of gods. They do not display their human nature."  

"But every rule has its exceptions. Crown Prince Francec, who was placed under house arrest, was one such exception. He was quite close to you, wasn't he?"  

I suppressed the twitch in my cheek. Publicly, Francec and I were considered close.  

'It's not entirely false that I was close to Francec, but if we're being precise, I had more dealings with Ivan.'  

Francec had never been competent enough to meddle in the Empire’s shadows. Compared to other monsters, he lacked the necessary inhumanity.  

However, that very humanity had allowed him to maintain a popular, approachable image. By forsaking his divine stature and stepping down as a man, he had gained his own kind of strength.  

"Francec is nothing more than a candle in the wind now. He’s not someone worth betting on."  

At my cold assessment, Ismael raised an eyebrow.  

"That's unexpected. Many Imperial defectors have supported Francec, and even now, they’re waiting for the right opportunity. Hmm... what did they call them? Ah, 'The Empire’s Blade,' was it?"  

I nearly laughed at his probing.  

The Empire’s brutal shadows had trained me into a refined spy. These games of speculation and manipulation were second nature to me—tediously familiar.  

'Piecing the information together, I can predict that The Empire’s Blade will reach out to me sooner or later. The only question is when.'  

Ismael was subtly observing me. A pointless effort.

"Francec is only alive by the Emperor’s mercy and pity. The moment there’s any seditious movement to enthrone him, he’ll be purged immediately. Or perhaps he’s being kept alive to lure out opposing factions and wipe them out in one strike. As long as Francec exists, dissidents will gather around him. That makes them easier to eliminate."  

I mixed in a bit of truth with my words.  

'Ivan's reason for keeping Francec alive.'  

From what I had seen of the Empire and its Imperial Household, they frequently used bait to flush out hidden insurgents. Francec was likely one such bait.  

"Hmm, so that’s the reasoning? The Empire's rule is truly cunning—so much so that its depths remain unseen. But Crown Prince Francec still holds great value. The Federation, too, hopes for him to become Emperor."  

"A leader desired by an enemy nation is never a good leader for his own country," I replied curtly.  

At my core, I still belonged to the Empire. Ismael wouldn't distance himself from me just because of that. In fact, anyone who abandoned their past entirely and swore blind loyalty after defecting would be far more suspicious.  

"Normally, that would be true, but this time, it’s not so simple. For the peace and prosperity of the entire Planet Novus, an Emperor like Francec is necessary. If war breaks out on Novus, there is no doubt the Empire will be the one to start it. No one would dispute that."  

He was right. In reality, the Empire was actively preparing for war.  

"The Federation is preparing for war as well, isn’t it?"  

I tossed out a foolish question. Ismael let out a short chuckle.  

"To prevent war, one must prepare for it. If Francec ascends to the throne, diplomacy will be far easier than it is now. His rule would present an opportunity to reduce the futile arms race across Novus, even if only slightly. War is a means, not an end. If it can be avoided, everyone would prefer to do so."  

I was beginning to get a sense of what the Federation wanted from me.  

"You expect more from me than I had thought…"  

"I’m merely sharing our perspective. The Federation is ready to provide substantial support if it means placing Francec on the throne. At this moment, it's the most viable way to prevent the inevitable war. Cybernetic bodies grant long lifespans, and that means an Emperor’s reign lasts longer. If Francec ascends with the Federation’s backing, at the very least, a century of peace would be guaranteed."

If an Emperor were enthroned through the influence of a foreign power like the Federation, no matter how capable Francec was, he would never gain the support of the Empire’s people.  

‘That’s why he needs backing from an internal organization like The Empire’s Blade.’  

The Federation planned to support Francec indirectly by aiding seditious factions from within the Empire.  

"It would be ideal for me as well if that plan were to succeed, but the chances are slim."  

"I understand. This is, after all, just a hopeful scenario. Running a nation requires pursuing multiple plans simultaneously. We prepare countless contingencies and lesser evils. However, Francec’s ascension to the throne is one of the best alternative solutions we have. I hope you’ll keep that in mind, Luka."  

I nodded.  

The conversation had mostly run its course. Ismael manipulated the holographic interface, accelerating the aerial vehicle.  

After taking a sip of water, he caught his breath and changed the subject.  

"You might find this hard to believe, given Son Seok-jae’s usual conduct, but he actually comes from a very respectable family. His father is an engineering doctorate with multiple patents, and his siblings work in corporate and government research institutions."  

"That is unexpected."  

I meant it.  

"And he’s an incredibly shrewd individual. As you probably already know, discrimination against alien species exists not just in Border City but throughout the Federation—even among the upper class and high-ranking officials. At some point, Son Seok-jae made a bold move to win their support. Thanks to that, he rapidly expanded his influence."  

Son Seok-jae’s xenophobia wasn’t just driven by personal prejudice—it was a calculated strategy.  

"The Federation was well aware of this yet tolerated his presence, using the pretense of a hands-off approach to Border City."  

"He was useful enough. Some alien factions have a knack for slipping through legal loopholes. There are those we simply can’t punish through legitimate procedures. That’s when we rely on groups like Sonsu Industries."  

"Hah, every place needs its own 'cleaners,' I suppose."  

I let out a wry chuckle.  

Any large-scale organization, especially on a national level, was bound to be hypocritical and ruthless. That was inevitable.  

"The issue is that Son Seok-jae now wants to step into the light. But he’s stained with too much blood for that. To make matters worse, there are people in high places who welcome him—likely thanks to his years of lobbying. He is destined to become a stain on the Federation."  

"So, in short, Son Seok-jae is someone who doesn’t know his place."  

"…His ambition is excessive. But given his track record of delivering results and the number of powerful figures backing him, it’s not entirely unjustified."

Ismael spoke in a roundabout way.  

"If there’s anything you need me to do, just let me know. I’d like to maintain a good relationship with you, Deputy Minister."  

"One day, Son Seok-jae will cross the line. When that time comes, I trust you’ll handle it appropriately, Luka."  

Ismael looked at me steadily, as if confirming whether I understood. His demeanor was strikingly bureaucratic in moments like this.  

If Son Seok-jae committed an illegal act that exceeded the protection of his high-ranking backers, and I happened to witness it… that would give me the justification to dispose of him—whether by killing him or otherwise.  

'Since Son Seok-jae has poured a fortune into lobbying, Ismael must be hesitant to deal with him directly. The Federation’s government must have its own internal factional struggles.'  

Knowing that he was making a difficult request, Ismael added another incentive.  

"I’ll arrange for you to be transferred to Bellato City at an appropriate time. Compared to Border City, it’s an entirely different world. There are far fewer alien species, and it’s much safer. Even the Emperor of the Empire wouldn’t be able to exert direct influence there. I can also secure you a reasonable position as a military advisor to the Federation Army."  

It was a tempting offer. Bellato City was the capital of the Federation—a chance to distance myself from Ivan’s influence.  

'Or… it’s an opportunity to move closer to the Federation’s core as a member of Akies Domini.'  

If I were to search for Giselle, where would I take her? Bellato City could serve as a viable destination.  

"…I’ll consider it."  

I felt the aerial vehicle descending as I answered. Ismael didn’t expect an immediate response.  

Son Seok-jae’s residence was in an affluent neighborhood—a two-story mansion with a yard, surrounded by high walls.  

The aerial vehicle landed in the yard, which doubled as a landing pad. As soon as the door opened and we stepped out, Son Seok-jae emerged from the house to greet us.  

"Right on time! Deputy Minister! And Luka! The braised short ribs have turned out wonderfully tender!"  

Son Seok-jae tossed his cigar to a servant and strode toward us.  

'Tarfa?'  

I flinched and stared at the servant who caught the cigar. He was holding cigar accessories and an ashtray… and he was a Tarfa—his skin was blue, and he had horns.  

I shifted my gaze slightly. There were security guards stationed around the mansion, and they weren’t human either.  

Srrk.  

Even the guards protecting the mansion were Equessians, dressed in black suits.  

"See? Son Seok-jae is remarkably shrewd. He knows how to separate business and personal matters."  

Ismael whispered as he led the way forward.

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