Advent of the Three Calamities

Chapter 202 He looks [1]

Bremmer, Megrail Estate

"Hmm~ Hmm~"

Atlas walked around the estate, admiring the numerous murals on the walls. Though he had seen these murals since he was a child, only now did he truly understand and appreciate their beauty.

"It's nice, isn't it?"

An older gentleman, bearing a strong resemblance to Atlas but with gray hair and a weathered face, appeared beside him.

Despite his age, his yellow pupils still shone brightly as he gazed at the murals.

In particular, his gaze fell on a mural depicting two massive armies clashing—one composed of humans, the other of monsters.

"It was a brutal fight. I can still recall the amount of blood that was spilled that day. It still haunts me to this day."

Though his tone was calm, the subtle trembling in his voice betrayed his true feelings. Atlas stood silently beside him, absorbing the gravity of his words.

'The Fight of the Seven Nights.'

Those words were inscribed at the bottom of the mural. It was a famous story.

For seven nights, the Megrail family along with their retainers and knights fought tooth and nail against the monsters that plagued the land.

It was one of the largest battles the Megrail family had ever faced, and by the end, their power had been significantly weakened.

But it had all been worth it.

The war was the foundation for the creation of Bremmer, the capital of the Empire, and the site of the largest Mirror Crack.

"Here. This is the item you requested."

Atlas turned his head to see a wooden box extended toward him.

He didn't hesitate to take it.

"Thank you, Father."

"Um. I don't know why you're so adamant about taking this, but since it's a request from my son, I decided to help you. Your brother wasn't too happy, but he trusts your capabilities."

"….Thank you."

Atlas smiled gratefully, understanding the lengths his father had gone to retrieve the box.

The current Emperor, his uncle, wasn't keen on sharing resources with outsiders.

He believed in helping only those directly attached to the Megrail family to retain their power for future generations.

It made sense to an extent, but Atlas wasn't one to care much about the political affairs of his family.

He just did what he felt was right.

…and he felt like giving the contents of the box to someone he knew.

"Atlas."

"Yes?"

Raising his head to meet his father's gaze, Atlas smiled serenely.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"Hmm, he's here."

Atlas's entire body froze. His previous serene expression shifted to one of intense focus and a hint of fanaticism.

"As in…?"

"The one who walks among us."

He paused,

"He has entered our Empire."

"….!"

***

"The Devil walks among us..."

The words seeped from the bald man's dry lips, the cold metallic table constraining his trembling hands.

Sitting opposite him, Inquisitor Hollowe frowned.

.....His role as a temporary Professor at Haven had yet to end.

He was supposed to start a new class yesterday, but an unexpected situation occurred, forcing him to move all the way to the Redknap Penitentiary.

A certain person had been caught.

He was classified as a person of interest regarding 'that' organization.

It was for that reason that he had been called.

Hollowe was the best at his job. He knew exactly what buttons needed to be pushed in order to get the words out of his targets.

"The Devil walks among us...?"

Hollowe leaned back on his chair while drumming his fingers over the metallic table in front of him.

"What do you mean by that? Is that the person that you're working for? The title that you've given to your boss?"

"Oh, no, no, no..."

The man shook his head.

His eyes, hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, concealed any hint of emotion from his face.

"Haa…"

The man let out a long breath.

As he tried to speak, an oppressive feeling weighed down upon his chest, suffocating him with inexplicable dread.

It felt as if invisible, icy tendrils were constricting around his throat, making every breath a desperate struggle.

Yet, despite the fear that gripped him, he mustered the courage to speak.

"The devil lurks within the mundane, concealed by the veil of the ordinary, dwelling in the very hearts of people we cross paths with every day. He thrives... on the weaknesses we dare not acknowledge, feeding on our fragility, our insecurities,"

His voice grew hoarse as he spoke.

Drip. Drip.

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, and his lips were dry as if parched by an unquenchable thirst.

Still, he never stopped,

"The darkness that resides within each of us—our capacity for cruelty, greed, and indifference—it is this very vulnerability that makes us susceptible to his influence."

Then, with a sudden, unnerving smile, he looked straight into Inquisitor Hollowe's eyes.

"And that's what makes him all the more fearsome. He can touch anyone… Everyone,"

He repeated, his voice now trembling like a leaf in a storm.

"There doesn't exist a human whose influence he can't reach. For all of us have flaws."

He suddenly laughed,

"Hehehe."

His laugh brought an uncomfortable chill to the room.

"How do I know?"

The man's hand trembled, the sound of clinking chains echoing in the tense silence.

Clank. Clank.

He lifted his sunglasses with deliberate slowness, unveiling two hollow white eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness.

"...Because I have seen that very devil."

*

Clank—

"...."

Inquisitor Hallow emerged from the room, his expression unreadable.

"How was it? Did you find anything?"

Awaiting him at the entrance was someone dressed similarly, the Senior Inquisitor and Hallow's superior.

"No..."

Hallow's response was unusually flat, catching the attention of his superior.

"What's wrong? Did something happen in there? You're not usually like this."

"Ah, yes..."

Hallow responded lightly, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the scene from before over and over again.

From the words, he spoke to the expression on his face.

'The Devil walks among us...'

What did that imply?

Was it suggesting that his boss was hiding in plain sight?

'From the way he talks, it seems like this boss also thrives upon the weakness of the heart.'

A sudden realization struck Hallow.

'Could it be that he's an Emotive Mage? ....And a very powerful one at that?'

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

The Devil wasn't real.

.....All the words he had heard were nothing but the ramblings of a fanatic.

'That's right, it's all nonsense.'

The most likely explanation was that their boss was an extremely powerful Emotive Mage.

"Yeah."

Hallow muttered aloud.

'It can't be...'

And yet,

Yet...

As he stared at his hand, he felt his throat constricting.

'Why... Why is my hand trembling so much?'

***

"Whoo~"

A gentle whistle resounded in the air.

Donning a gray blazer, and a gray top hat, the man casually walked around the streets of Bremmer.

There were people everywhere he looked.

....It was a busy day today.

"Whoo~"

His whistle continued to echo in the air.

It was subtle, and yet, strangely alluring.

But soon, his steps came to a pause as a ball appeared beneath his feet.

A child came running after shortly after.

"Is this your ball?"

Picking up the ball, the man handed it to the child. It was a young child, about eight years of age. With brown hair and green eyes, he looked to be a child from a well-off family.

"Yes."

"Is that so?"

Smiling, the man handed the child the ball.

"Do be careful with it. You might accidentally hit someone with it."

"....Oh, yes."

The child was quite polite, nodding in understanding as he took the ball from the man's hand.

It was only brief, but their hands touched.

And the moment the child touched the ball, he stopped.

"What's wrong...?"

The man bent over and stood at eye level with the child.

Drip! Drip...!

Tears started to drip down from the child's eyes all of a sudden.

"Please don't cry."

Taking out a handkerchief, the man handed it to the child to wipe his tears.

"If there's something going on, you can tell me. I have a little bit of time."

"Sniff... Sniff..."

Wiping his eyes, the child looked at the man.

His eyes locked onto that of the man, and words started to flow out of his mouth.

"Nobody wants to play with me... Hic..."

"Is that so...?"

"Y-yes."

"Why do you think so?"

"B-because my family is r-rich... They said that they want to hang out with me."

"Is that what you think?"

"....Y-yes."

"It's not because of you, right?"

"Me...?"

The child blinked while looking at the man.

The tears had long stopped flowing.

"Money should make children want to play with you. If you have money, you can use it to attract the other children to play with you. Why is it not the case for you?"

"A-ah... That's..."

Smiling, the man placed his hand over the child.

"They don't want you."

His tone slowly started to change, growing colder and chilling.

The child looked up in a trance.

".....They just don't like you. You're not wanted."

His words quietly made their way and seeped into the child's mind. Gradually, the child's expression changed.

His eyes turned hollow, and his face lost all semblance of emotion.

"Since they don't want you, why should you want to play with them?"

The man's voice continued to echo.

"What is the point of playing with people that think you're worthless? Are you truly worthless? Or are they the ones who are worthless for not wanting to play with you?"

"...."

"Remember this."

The man removed his hand from the child's head.

"Beneath every expression lies the potential for a scream."

With a smile, the man's voice faded.

".....How about you check it on them?"

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