District 21’s low-income apartment complex, commonly known as ‘The Hive,’ stood like a massive concrete tombstone.
Neon signs of varying colors flickered from every window, and parasitic pipes clung to the walls, tangling like blood vessels suffocating the entire building.
11 PM. The loudest time of day for this dump.
“Pay up! You think gutting yourself is gonna solve this?” “Ah, come on! I told you I'll pay you back when I hit the jackpot at the casino this time!”
The guy in Room 302 was currently being held by the collar by a loan shark droid in the hallway.
“Babe, if me and that mechanical arm fell into the water, who would you save?” “Are you crazy, bitch? Do you know how much this prosthetic costs? Of course I'm saving the arm!”
The couple in Room 405 was making a racket as usual—hard to tell if it was a lovers' quarrel or a mixed martial arts match.
Ren used all that noise as background music as he climbed the stairs.
The elevator had been ‘under repair’ for three years. It probably wouldn't be fixed until the end of the world.
Room 501.
He tapped his key against the door lock. With a weak beep, the door unlocked.
As soon as he stepped into the entryway, a strange mix of damp mildew and fabric softener hit his nose. A space barely 140 square feet. A single bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. This was Ren's kingdom.
He took off his uniform jacket, tossed it carelessly over the chair, and headed straight for the fridge. Showering could wait; he needed alcohol.
He opened the door, and the dim interior light flickered. A single can of ‘Neo-Lager’ rolled around in the corner. He reached out and grabbed it. It was lukewarm.
“……Hah.”
The fridge motor had died again. These piece-of-junk appliances were experts at testing their owner's patience. Nothing adds to the day's fatigue quite like warm beer.
Ren let out an annoyed sigh, gripping the can. Buying a new one was a hassle. Calling a repairman was even worse. There was only one solution.
‘Freeze.’
He didn't really know any magic, nor did he need to chant a spell. He just pictured the image of forcibly extracting the kinetic energy of the molecules.
White frost bloomed from Ren's palm.
Psssshhh—.
Condensation instantly formed on the surface of the can, radiating a pleasant chill. Exactly 4 degrees Celsius. The perfect temperature for beer.
If an Archmage saw this, they'd faint at the sheer waste of talent, but to Ren, it was just a life hack to save on fridge repair bills.
Crack. Psssh. He popped the tab and took a gulp. The cold carbonation washing down his throat felt like it was scrubbing the dust off his esophagus. He threw himself onto the bed. He found the hologram TV remote and pressed a button. A news anchor appeared in the air.
[Tonight's top story. The evil spirit disturbance at the District 4 abandoned factory was successfully suppressed by the Knights of the Dawn. However, a bizarre phenomenon reported at the scene is causing quite a stir.]
Ren's eyebrow twitched. The screen showed the inside of the factory he and Tom had cleaned and left. The reporter continued excitedly.
[Reports say that the residual malice left at the scene was completely eradicated by a mysterious ‘Holy Flash.’ Experts speculate that this is a miracle born from the latent power of Saintess Elysia, but the Saintess herself is denying the claims.]
The screen cut to Elysia standing in front of a microphone. She was looking at the cameras with a troubled expression.
“……It wasn't my power. There were traces of ‘someone else’ having been there besides myself and the Knight Commander. It was an incredibly… noble and overwhelming power of light.”
[Ah, so humble! As expected of our Saintess!] The reporter arbitrarily interpreted her words in awe. Ren almost crushed his beer can.
‘…….’
Was it too strong?
He had failed to adjust the output while trying to save Tom. He should have just cast a simple shield, but he had been feeling lazy and embedded an ‘Absolute Annihilation’ code instead. That was the mistake.
Noble and overwhelming power of light? Don't make me laugh. That was just a cheap talisman he picked up at a recycling dump.
‘Whatever. Doesn't matter.’
People believe what they want to believe anyway. No matter how much the Saintess denied it, the public would just praise her, saying, “Oh my, our Saintess is so modest.” No one would ever imagine that an anonymous patrol cop was the culprit.
Ren changed the channel. A cyborg comedian was doing physical gags on a variety show. That was much more informative.
Just as he finished his beer and closed his eyes, idly thinking about stopping by the side-dish shop tomorrow, his device vibrated.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Caller ID: [Chief Bargo]
A call at this hour. Ominous. Ren seriously debated ignoring it and going to sleep, but thinking about the nagging he'd get tomorrow morning, he pressed the answer button.
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“This is Ren.”
Ren pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Reason? Did a magical beast spawn or something?”
Ren narrowed his eyes in silence. This was the scenario he wanted to avoid the most.
The priests of the Holy Church were sharp. The Inquisitors, especially, were masters of lie detection. The moment that idiot Tom opened his mouth during the investigation and blurted out, “Huh? The talisman Ren gave me flashed,” Ren's three years of peaceful extra life would meet an instant apocalyptic end.
“……We just cleaned the floors. We didn't see anything.”
Click. The call ended.
Ren stared blankly at the dark screen of his device. A formality?
According to the setting of the novel
What if she came as the investigator tomorrow? What if Tom ran his mouth?
‘I'm screwed.’
Ren tossed the empty beer can into the trash bin. A perfect swish. But he didn't feel any better.
7 AM tomorrow. A face-to-face meeting between the world's strongest extra and the lie-piercing heroine was scheduled. Ren sprawled out on his bed, glaring at the ceiling.
“Should I calculate my severance pay in advance...?”
It was going to be a sleepless night.
*
The next morning.
The air in the District 7 Patrol Office was different from usual. The usual musty smell was gone, replaced by the heavy scent of incense. Instead of random junk, a spray bottle filled with holy water and a paper inscribed with prayers sat on the desk.
“Hey, Ren. Did you wash your face? Wash your hair?”
Chief Bargo asked, smoothing back hair that was three times greasier than usual. His uniform was ironed so stiff it could cut glass.
“I did my usual routine.” “This punk still doesn't get it! Do you know who's coming today? The Saintess herself is gracing us with her presence! The number one candidate for the next Pope! If you give off even a hint of a stench in front of someone that noble, our entire department could be branded as heretics and sent to the stake!”
Bargo freaked out, spritzing Ren with the holy water spray. Ren grimaced and turned his head. It was probably just tap water with a blessing slapped onto it, but it still felt gross.
“Where's Tom?” “Went to the bathroom. Said his stomach's acting up from nerves. Tsk, tsk. Country bumpkins, I swear.”
A moment later, Tom walked in, his face pale, rubbing his belly.
“Ugh... Ren. I think I'm dying. Just the thought of meeting the Saintess has my stomach doing backflips.” “Just keep your mouth shut. Only answer what they ask.” “You think it's that easy? Oh, right! Where did you get that talisman yesterday? What do I say if the investigator asks?” “…….”
Ren's eyes sharpened. Because Tom had blurted that out so loudly, the other patrol cops nearby perked up their ears.
“Shh. Lower your voice.” “Huh? Why? Is it important?” “Just say you picked it up on the street. Or that you don't remember. I'm warning you, don't cause unnecessary trouble.” “Eh, is that okay? They say you go to hell if you lie to the Saintess.” “If you tell the truth, I might just send you to hell myself.”
As Ren let out a low growl, Tom flinched and shut his mouth. Somehow, it didn't sound like a joke. Ren's eyes held a chilling coldness, like he really could make a person quietly disappear.
Three years ago, Ren used to skip shifts and cause a ruckus, but lately, he'd been handling jobs with bizarre, terrifying efficiency. Ignoring him could lead to serious consequences. Tom naturally swallowed hard, realizing he needed to watch his tongue.
Just then.
Screeeech—.
The old iron door of the office opened, and priests in white robes filed in. And through them walked a woman with dazzling blonde hair.
Saintess Elysia.
The moment she appeared, it was as if the dim, dreary office was suddenly bathed in bright light. The patrol cops all stood up in unison, holding their breath. Chief Bargo bowed so low he was practically kissing the floor.
“O-Oh, you've arrived! For someone so noble to visit such a humble place...!”
Elysia smiled gently and raised a hand to stop him.
“Please, be at ease, Chief. We're simply here to ask about the small miracle that occurred yesterday.”
Even her voice was pure and clear. But Ren wasn't fooled. Her blue eyes were smiling, but deep inside them, a sharp, probing light was gleaming.
The Eyes of Truth. The mystic eyes that sorted out lies were fully active.
“Shall we begin right away? The ones who remained at the factory scene until the very end...”
Elysia's gaze swept over the patrol cops. And stopped exactly on Ren and Tom.
“It's you two, isn't it?”
Tom was so frozen he couldn't speak, only nodding his head. Ren gave a light, expressionless nod.
“Patrolman Ren of the 7th Department. This is Tom.” “It's a pleasure, Officer Ren. Officer Tom. I am Elysia.”
She approached. Up close, she was unrealistically beautiful. But to Ren, that beauty only looked like a blaring ‘Red Alert.’
“Did you two happen to witness anything unusual at the scene yesterday? For example, an intense light... or the presence of someone else?” Elysia asked, looking at Tom.
Tom's pupils shook like there was an earthquake in his head.
“Uh... th-that is... um...” “You can speak comfortably.”
As the Saintess took another step closer, Tom's face turned as red as a tomato. He shot a glance at Ren. His eyes screamed, ‘Can I say it? Do I tell her? What do I do?’
Ren gave a microscopic shake of his head.
“U-Um! I didn't see a light! I just felt a flash...!” “You felt a flash? What kind of feeling was it?” “It was... warm... and cozy... like a mother's embrace...?”
Tom started babbling nonsense. A mix of fanboying and sheer panic had short-circuited his brain. Elysia tilted her head.
“A mother's embrace... Usually, one doesn't feel that when an evil spirit is eradicated...”
Her eyes narrowed. Suspicion. She had detected the erratic fluctuations in Tom's heartbeat and mana wavelength.
“Are you... perhaps hiding something?”
Elysia's voice dropped a tone. Soft pressure. Tom looked like he was about to cry.
“N-No! Absolutely not! I... I...!”
At this rate, he was going to spill everything within sixty seconds. Ren swallowed a sigh and stepped forward.
“Saintess.”
Elysia's gaze shifted to Ren.
“My colleague seems to be very nervous. He's always admired you from afar... Seeing you in person seems to have scrambled his wits.”
Ren gripped Tom's shoulder. It wasn't a simple touch. Through his palm, he sent a microscopic wave of ‘Mental Stabilization.’ It was closer to physical force forcibly calming the brainwaves than actual magic.
“Hup...!”
Tom's body gave a violent jolt, and then, like a lie, his breathing steadied. The earthquake in his pupils stopped.
“Th-That's right! It's an honor to meet you, Saintess... I was just too nervous! I apologize!” Tom answered robustly.
Elysia stared at Tom for a moment before looking back at Ren. She must have felt Tom's wavelength suddenly stabilize. But she couldn't have noticed that Ren was the cause. He was hiding his presence flawlessly.
“I see. Pardon my intrusion, then.”
Elysia smiled. But her eyes still held onto their suspicion. Her next target was Ren.
“And you, Officer Ren? Did you not see anything either?” “Yes. We were too busy scrubbing the floors. We didn't even know there was an evil spirit. We just thought it was some static electricity sparking.” “Static electricity?” “The factory is old, so electrical shorts are common. It's dry in there, too.”
Ren lied effortlessly. Elysia's ‘Eyes of Truth’ tried to pierce through him. But all she saw was the ‘truth of an ordinary, incompetent patrol cop’ that Ren intentionally projected.
A self-hypnosis, or a mental barrier, that made lies register as truth. For Ren, it was as easy as breathing.
“……Hmm.”
Elysia stared intently into Ren's eyes. She felt no agitation, no wavelength of deceit. He was perfectly ordinary. So ordinary, in fact, that it was bizarre.
“Strange. The residual mana at the scene definitely belonged to someone who was there...” she muttered, almost to herself.
Right then, the cigarette pack poking out of Ren's uniform pocket caught her eye.