Tantei wa Mou, Shindeiru - Volume 7 - Chapter 2.8

 The ignorant king

There was a certain custom that the detectives and I had followed for ages: When we resolved an incident, we’d reward ourselves with afternoon tea or a good dinner. We’d discuss the case, reflect on any errors, and learn what we could from it.

Now that we were a bit older, the form of that ritual had changed slightly. Sometimes we had wine or cocktails after our meal instead of tea or coffee. Either way, it was an important part of our work communication, and so we’d gone to a pub, but…

“Haaah. What did that thing in the crow mask want, anyway?” Nagisa sighed, setting down her mug of beer.

Two hours ago, the messenger from Another Eden had appeared on that small boat, then left just as abruptly. Since there was nothing we could do about it, our group had split up. Then, even though we hadn’t resolved the incident, Nagisa, Siesta, and I had come to this bar in the hopes of venting some of our frustration. And Nagisa and I weren’t the only ones drinking…

“Some people say melons are vegetables, but I think they’re fruits, you know. A long time ago, a famous comedian said that if something goes well with mayonnaise, it’s a vegetable, and if it doesn’t, it’s a fruit. So I tried putting mayonnaise on melon, and it was absolutely delish, so guess what? Melons are actually vegetables.”

The white-haired detective was babbling incoherently over a glass of red wine. Her skin was flushed, and her eyes were glazed. As I’d anticipated, she was a little more wound-up than usual.

This was how Siesta usually got when she drank, so I’d banned her from having alcohol…but Nagisa and I had looked away for a second, Siesta had gotten some wine into her system, and now here we were.

“Heyyy, Assistant. Are you listening?” Siesta pouted, trying to pick a fight with me.

“Yeah, you were listing your favorite fruits. Hurry up and tell me your top three.” Casually fielding the drunk detective, I sipped water. If I drank too much myself, I might do something stupid.

“…Somebody’s not really into this conversation. What, drinking with me isn’t fun for you?” Siesta glared at me. “You’ve seemed bored this whole time. You’re barely reacting to anything I say.”

Yeesh. When Siesta had gotten drunk before, even brushing her off like that would have put a cheerful smile on her face. She must’ve built up a tolerance. I hadn’t thought I was being that openly critical of her behavior, but she’d picked up on it anyway.

“About what happened on the cruise.” Setting my glass down, I averted my eyes. “Why did you say that to the enemy, there at the end?”

“…Say what? I don’t really remember.”

If she was playing dumb, that meant she remembered it clearly.

Siesta had said she’d march into Eden and fight to protect the world or her companions, even if it meant breaking a nonaggression pact. That remark of hers was the biggest reason for the frustration that was smoldering inside me.

“The Ritual of Sacred Return is tomorrow. Once that’s over, you and Nagisa won’t be Tuners anymore. You won’t have to deal with Another Eden.”

“We don’t know whether they’ll manage to complete that ritual. Until we settle the unknown crisis the crow-masked messenger and its friends are plotting, I’ll keep fighting. Which part of that do you have a problem with, Kimi?”

Siesta drained her mineral water. The ice in her glass clinked. Her head must have cooled down, too.

“Why do you need to be the one who does that, Siesta?”

“Because I’m the Ace Detective.”

“Technically, you’re still a proxy.”

“I’ll do it even if I’m just a detective.”

“—! Why would you go that far…?”

Our exchange was brief. Neither of us was drunk anymore, but our heated emotions hadn’t cooled.

“Because you two did this for me.” Siesta turned her blue eyes on me, then promptly averted them again. “Long ago, you risked your lives to save me, so I’ll do the same. This has nothing to do with jobs and missions. If anyone tries to hurt something that’s precious to me, I’ll fight with everything I have, and I’ll protect both of you.”

She snapped her mouth shut after that.

The pub’s quiet background music and other customers’ conversations filled the silence between us. It had been a long time since I’d argued with Siesta like this.

Nagisa was the one to break the silence completely. “Okay, that’s enough.” She clapped her hands once, sharply, softening the tension. “And while I’m at it, hiyah!”

There was a dull thunk as her fists connected with my head and Siesta’s.

“Ow! Hey, Nagisa…!”

“…That was mean. What was that for?”

Siesta and I turned accusatory looks on her, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she heaved a big sigh. “I’ll double-kill you both. Well? Did that calm you down a bit?”

…If that was what she’d been trying to do, the clap at the beginning probably would’ve been enough. Sheesh.

“Sorry. I guess I had a little too much to drink. Blame it on the alcohol, okay?” I apologized to Nagisa.

“I’m sorry, too, Nagisa. Blame it on our assistant this time.”

She was so damn mean. I glared at Siesta from under half-closed eyelids, and she snubbed me.

Nagisa sighed again. “Haaah. Geez.” And then… “But I guess that’s where it’s at for both of you,” she murmured quietly, gazing at the ceiling. “C’mon, Siesta. Let’s head back to the hotel. Can you stand?” Nagisa helped Siesta up, and they turned to go.

“So you’re just leaving me here?”

“If you’re together, you two will just fight again, right? A little distance is a good thing sometimes. Besides,” Nagisa added, “you have another job to do, right, Kimihiko?”

…Yeah, I did. It was a job Siesta had asked me to handle. In preparation, I relocated to a seat at the bar by myself. “Okay, Nagisa. Take care of Siesta.”

Siesta had her back to me. I could tell she’d heard me, but she left with Nagisa without giving me another look.

“Even I’ve never seen Daydream like that before.”

How long had he been there, watching us? The old man was sitting three seats away, drinking whiskey, wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier.

Bruno Belmondo. The person I was waiting for.

“I arrived a little early. Your lively dinner was a nice show to go with my drink.” Bruno smiled. I’d stayed behind because I needed to talk with him a little more. I never thought he’d been watching us the entire time, though.

“Sorry you had to see that weird infighting.”

“No, no. It was novel to see her display that sort of emotion. Still, I imagine she did it because it was an earnest exchange with someone who required honesty. I don’t think it was wrong.”

Bruno set his glass down on the bar. At some point, all the other customers had left the pub. The only sound was pleasant jazz playing softly in the background.

“Now then, could you tell me why you called me here? You said this talk would be confidential.” Bruno drained his whiskey, then looked over at me, a few seats away.

“Yeah. Bruno, why are you so set on fighting this unknown crisis?”

This was the same thing Siesta and I had just argued about.

It might have seemed strange for me to ask him about that now. However, as the assistant, getting the answer out of him was my job.

“Why would you bring that up now? Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

“I thought it might be a hard question to answer if Noel was around.”

Because they were family. There are some things that are hard to say to someone precisely because you trust them. That’s how it works for me, anyway.

“Because I am a Tuner. Because it’s a hero’s natural duty. Isn’t that answer enough?”

“I’m not asking about your profile.”

During a job just the other day, I’d learned you can’t assume you know somebody just because you’re familiar with their social status, job title, and career.

“—Long ago, I traveled.”

Bruno seemed to have given in. Still facing forward, he began telling his story. “As a young reporter, I left on a rambling journey to learn about the world. In the midst of my travels, I was drawn to a certain country’s culture and ended up spending many years there.”

What I was hearing was the past of an extremely learned information broker who’d lived more than a century. I listened carefully.

According to Bruno, while the country was small, it had plentiful energy resources and was quite wealthy.

“Its abundance was bait for invaders, however. Before long, the neighboring military states pressed the country to sign a series of unfair treaties. The country’s king accepted all the terms they set. He believed he had no choice if he wanted to protect his people.”

Bruno had been against that policy, but at the time, he’d been a mere traveling journalist. He didn’t have the power to make a country do anything.

“Contrary to my expectations, the country’s peace was preserved. It wasn’t as wealthy as it had once been, but at the very least, its people weren’t ravaged by war. The king’s wise decision had protected the country. I felt ashamed,” Bruno murmured.

He said it had been a mistake for him to weigh the country’s wealth against its citizens’ lives. That king was beloved by his people, and he’d lived out his life happily until his death from old age.

“What country are we talking about?” I asked. His story had ended happily, and I was curious about what had happened after.

“It doesn’t have a name,” Bruno said simply. “In today’s world, it no longer exists. Fifteen years after that king passed away, the country’s economy collapsed. It was carved up by the alliance and vanished off the map.”

Considering Bruno’s age, this had happened about a hundred years ago. There probably wasn’t anyone else on the planet who could give a firsthand account of what had happened. It was a true story only Bruno could tell.

“The great king died in ignorance. He passed away beloved by his people, unaware of his crime.”

Bruno’s eyes narrowed, as if he was faintly remembering a distant day. I didn’t know what to say.

“The moral of this story isn’t that we must take up our weapons and fight; only that we must search for a way to protect the world, and that our efforts must be constant.”

I couldn’t find the words I needed to say. Even so, I could tell that Bruno’s philosophy wasn’t wrong.

“If the world is approaching another turning point, we must act with purpose. At the coming Ritual of Sacred Return, we must demonstrate our determination to protect the world, even if the unknown crisis is an attempt to get in our way.”

This was Bruno Belmondo’s resolution: a great will which had nothing to do with his title or profile, formed by the history he’d lived through.

“Therefore, boy, I would like you to pay more attention to Noel than to me. Protect the young person who has a future rather than an old life that’s nearing its end, won’t you?”

I wasn’t a detective, but I was human, and that meant I had to grant Bruno’s request. Except…

“What if I save both of you? Won’t that work?”

I knew it was an arrogant suggestion, but I made it anyway. That was what my partners would have said if they were here, I think.

“You’re right. The Ritual of Sacred Return should take place. The detectives and I will guarantee that it does, so would you let us handle things tomorrow and spend the day somewhere safe instead?” I took a certain object out of my bag. “This is the origin text, and I swear to take it to the ceremony.”

“…I see. Did the young Oracle entrust it to you?”

Mia Whitlock, the Oracle who saw all futures, had handed me the reins of tomorrow’s fate.

“The Oracle has already lost her power, though. There is no one in the world who can truly predict the future.” Bruno shook his head, refusing to change his answer. “Can you bring about the tomorrow you wish for in the midst of such uncertainty?”

“But instead of the future, you know everything about the world, right?” I pointed out.

Silence fell for a moment… But only a moment.

“Yes, that’s true. I know. I know everything. However, I merely know it. I can’t necessarily deduce the right answer. I may even give a wrong one.”

That was Bruno’s calm analysis of his own position and abilities. He said that simply knowing, simply having all the data, didn’t guarantee that people could come up with the right answer on their own.

In my case—I’d always had someone who could show me whether I was right in those moments. If I went way back in time, the man who’d called himself my teacher had been that person. Then it had been Siesta. After she was gone, Nagisa had come along. Now I had lots of friends who would help me search for answers.

But Bruno was supposed to be all-knowing. What if he got an answer wrong? If that day came, what then?

“If I give a wrong answer someday, no doubt someone will appear to correct it. That is how the world is kept in tune.” Bruno drained the last of his whiskey.

“You really think someone who can correct the world’s wisdom will come along?”

“Yes. What do you suppose a person like that would be called?”

I didn’t have a clever answer for that question.

With a merry laugh, Bruno got to his feet. “Ha-ha. There’s no way I’d know. After all, such a person would be beyond me.”

Then, walking with the aid of his cane, Bruno left by himself.

Liquor made us human again.

Both the detective and the sage, the maiden and the old man. Everyone, equally.

When everyone was gone, I stood up to leave, too. Just then, my phone, which was resting on the bar, lit up. It was a notification from my messaging app. I had a text from Nagisa.

“When you get back, want to talk for a bit?”

Just as I picked up my phone to respond, a call came in from a withheld number.

“Coincidences never happen alone, huh?”

Should I respond to Nagisa’s text or take the call?

I hesitated, and then I—