Bermuda

The magestone handcuffs Leonardo Blaine had worn during his detention by the Council were manufactured through an exacting, meticulous process.

That was because concerns had been raised without end that the old-model magestone handcuffs caused instability in magical power control.

The issue truly surfaced around ten years ago, beginning with an incident in which an S-grade mage released from a military prison, driven into control instability, obliterated an entire frontier village.

Among high-ranking officials at the time, it was counted as one of the worst possible disasters. Investigations were conducted not only within the military but on a national scale, yet the concrete chain of cause and effect was concealed.

The reason was simple. If it became known that the catastrophe that wiped out an entire region had been caused by defects in the restraints used by the authorities, the prestige of law and order would inevitably hit rock bottom.

Moreover, at the time, the three military institutions—the Council’s legion, the Imperial Army, and the Imperial Knights—were already receiving roughly half of their weapons and equipment from the same supplier. In other words, even if the scale differed, similar accidents would have been frequent.

Fear of being forced to shoulder responsibility for the same problem grew steadily, and in the end, with that incident as the turning point, the three institutions each designated separate exclusive military suppliers for weapons and restraints.

In the case of the Council, it established a subordinate organization called the Workshop, periodically changing the material combinations used in restraints and developing an optimized state that reduced impact on magical power control. Thus, after five years, it announced the new-model handcuffs and resolved most cases of control instability in prisoners who had worn restraints for long periods.

In addition, it declared it would discard all aged handcuffs, indirectly flaunting its achievements to other institutions and securing broad support by claiming the image of a vanguard of change. However—

“You already know the old-model handcuffs were not all discarded.”

Sparked by Leonardo’s remark that “the handcuffs felt strange,” it became clear that the control instability he had shown on the Peninsula might have been a planned incident carried out under someone’s intent.

“I know.”

Hugo watched the suspect, whose gaze kept slipping, in silence.

The man who finally spoke after the grueling investigation was Castiel Vine, a low-ranking commander assigned to the Council Central Branch, 11th Battalion, 9th Company.

And he was now claiming that he himself had swapped out the S-grade mage handcuffs Leonardo Blaine was made to wear.

“Right after Leonardo Blaine was transferred to Headquarters, on the Company Commander’s orders, I began smuggling old-model handcuffs stored in the Workshop into the equipment management office. After his magical power nature test ended, it would have been exactly 9:53 by Imperial City time. During the process of temporarily detaining him in the underground prison, I arranged for him to be fitted with the old-model handcuffs. I approached the escort personnel. That was probably the first time.”

Hugo turned back the timing Vine mentioned. The image of Leonardo lying on the bed in the magical power extraction room surfaced at once.

The room left in total chaos by the force Leonardo had emitted during the extraction, the ragged, panting breaths, the pale face drained of color—everything remained vivid in Hugo’s mind. So did the voice that had looked straight at him with sinister eyes and declared, “I’m going to kill you.”

Hugo, hearing that, had instructed the legionnaires to transfer Leonardo to the prison in preparation for him lashing out.

Of course, Hugo had not truly believed the boy—limp and spent, murderous only in his gaze—could actually kill him.

He just wanted him away from the commotion for a while. And it ended up becoming the opposite.

As Hugo recalled it, his eyelids grew heavy with guilt at having provided the opening.

“Did you deliberately aim for that moment?”

But the man facing him had no way to read the emotions behind Hugo’s blue eyes. At the cold question, Vine swallowed hard and answered.

“...I’d been watching for an opportunity all along. I judged the right moment would be when the Legion Commander’s attention wasn’t on them.”

“There was an accomplice among the escort personnel?”

“I have no knowledge of that. But I believe Company Commander Servan may have tipped them off in advance.”

“How did you know the old-model handcuffs that were publicly declared discarded still existed inside the Workshop?”

“That, too, was because Company Commander Servan...”

According to the testimony, it seemed Marcus Servan, the 11th Battalion’s Company Commander, was both the instigator of the incident and the primary conduit of information.

The materials that made up the old-model handcuffs included expensive components also used to develop other magic devices and restraints. For researchers working in the Workshop, this was already an open secret, and it was revealed that some had been quietly siphoning off handcuffs slated for disposal to profit from them.

Vine said Company Commander Servan had long been acquainted with those people and often mentioned the relevant knowledge to his subordinates. He even recounted, in full, the specific periods and the amounts gained through embezzlement—nothing omitted.

In fact, from the point when Hugo had summoned the battalion commanders and raised the issue of the old-model handcuffs, Servan had, for the prior three months, been a direct subordinate of the 11th Battalion Commander who oversaw the equipment management office. In other words, he could legally access both the Workshop and the Council’s equipment management office—and if necessary, he was in a position to falsify inventory ledgers.

“According to your statement, all of this was done on Marcus Servan’s orders. Why would he have tried to put old-model handcuffs on the victim? Was it an attempt to throw the subjugation unit into trouble through another person’s hands?”

“......”

“Or was Leonardo Blaine’s control instability itself the objective?”

“I... don’t know that, either. But it’s fairly well known within our 9th Company that many of Company Commander Servan’s relatives died in the Turandos War ten years ago. He usually held a negative view of the key figures in that battle, including Leonardo Blaine, and when Leonardo was captured, he looked extremely agitated. Not only I, but all my colleagues would know this. Even during Leonardo Blaine’s trial, he couldn’t participate directly, but he said it was finally time for judgment...”

As if scrambling to find a hole through which to dump responsibility, the man’s answers sped up noticeably. He added that he had followed the orders faithfully out of fear it would harm his prospects for promotion, and that after the situation grew large, he had kept his mouth shut because he feared being forced to bear heavy responsibility.

Hugo studied his facial muscles, his eyes, his steady voice—missing nothing.

It was not obvious, but beneath the table, the man’s clenched hands were straining with force. If he was not tense, that would have been strange, yet he also trembled more than necessary. The faint moisture Hugo had dispersed into the air quietly conveyed those ripples.

Hugo pressed the tip of his tongue firmly against the inside of his mouth.

The tie tightening around his throat was suffocating, and his mind was colder than ever. His solar plexus felt tightly blocked, yet no sigh escaped him. He knew this was the reaction that came when he was truly furious.

Was it because he was hearing the truth of the subordinates he had trusted? Or because he had to acknowledge, like this, the fundamental reason Leonardo’s freedom could never be complete?

Or because he was grinding his teeth at his own ignorance—past and present—for failing to protect him properly?

Hugo tried to loosen the force in his interlaced hands, but instead it looked as though he were crushing the ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ skin on the backs of them. As his large hands went stiff, as if swallowing down emotion, veins bulged.

To the man seated across from him, it looked deeply threatening.

The witness lowered his gaze quickly and fixed it on the desk. Even so, his eyes darted in a tight range, and his lids kept blinking.

After enduring it in silence, Hugo finally spoke a single line.

“Is everything you did truly the Company Commander’s will?”

The man’s eyes froze on a single point, then he slowly lifted his head.

“Yes?”

“Not a single trace of personal desire. Not a shred of agreement. Are you certain you had none?”

When Hugo asked again, clearly, Vine’s throat bobbed hard, and he nodded rapidly several times.

“Yes. Of course.”

Silence hung in the barren interrogation room. For a long while, Hugo only watched him.

His voice and tone were calm, and his responses were smooth. Too smooth—and in his phrasing, a defensive mechanism showed itself, an attempt to evade emotional responsibility.

When the witness’s carefully controlled breathing finally began to falter, Hugo released his clasped hands and gripped the chair’s armrest.

“If you had stayed silent, it would have taken time, but it would have passed as a simple accident. Why are you testifying now? Even if you claim you only followed orders, anyone involved in this will not escape punishment.”

At that, an awkward smile that did not fit the situation flickered at the corner of the man’s mouth. It looked bitter—almost relieved. But when he raised his hand to touch his lips, his expression stiffened at once.

“Anyone would have guessed the Legion Commander wouldn’t let this go.”

It sounded pointed. Especially the way he ended it with “would have,” as if it were speculation, was intensely grating.

It sounded like he was voicing his own thoughts, yet also like he was repeating something he had heard from someone else—throughout his testimony.

“Is that your thought as well?”

“...Yes? Yes, it is.”

“Then do you believe Marcus Servan is the only one behind this? Any accomplices, or anyone who covered for it? For instance, the highest commander of the unit you belong to.”

“I don’t know if there are other accomplices, but our Battalion Commander would not be involved. If you ask why I think that... logically, when an incident happens, the first person to be suspected is the equipment management office’s responsible lead at the time, isn’t he. I don’t think he would scheme when he could become the most likely suspect. In my opinion.”

This time, Vine delivered it while looking straight into Hugo’s eyes. When his voice ended, his gaze fell downward again.

Hugo’s fingertips had been tapping the table at a steady rhythm, until at some point they stopped.

He leaned forward and jerked his chin.

“Fine. You’ve worked hard answering. Rest here for a moment. I’ll come back in twenty minutes.”