Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 252: The Country of Steel and The Faceless Men (1)

Fortunately, the story of the collaborator didn’t end in the farcical way of the spy being caught and exploited.

The Princess insisted, waving her hands, that the collaborator had truly been assigned a mission by the Resistance, was fervently vengeful against the Military State, and that she had even seen him in person.

Though still dubious, our destination was set.

The alchemic steel refinery.

A place where the screams of steel and humans were heard in harmony.

We arrived there.

Clang-. Clang-.

Dry, heated sounds echoed throughout the place.

The sound of refining molten Alchemic Steel into ingots.

The Military State must have been alerted to our attack through the Signallers.

Other places were on high alert, with forces pulled out or doors locked, but this place was like a solitary island.

It wasn’t quiet, but indifferent and unrelated to what was happening outside.

Despite the arrival of an unregistered automaton carriage at the factory entrance, no guards or laborers showed up.

It was somewhat disappointing.

Only the echoing screams of steel asserted where we were.

"...Tch. This place is always so eerie. It’d be better just to pass by."

The Regressor muttered in a weary tone, then noticed a shadow hovering at the door.

The suspicious figure hesitated before approaching us.

Reflexively, the Regressor raised her sword but lowered it when she saw the figure had no hostility or wariness.

"Someone's coming up ahead. Doesn't seem like an enemy. Could it be the Resistance collaborator?"

The answer came from Shiati.

She surprisingly showed a rare look of delight.

This person seemed to be one of the few remaining people she cared about while focused on destroying the Military State.

Despite her condition, she approached the man with evident joy.

Just before they met, Shiati, recalling the past and to ensure safety, confirmed a pre-arranged code.

"Where are we?"

The man stopped and replied.

"Still beneath the riverbed."

"You're safe, Kerapald."

"You too, Shiati."

They greeted each other with a brief shoulder bump.

There was a deep sense of camaraderie that only those who faced death together could share.

At least for Shiati, this feeling was very strong.

After the brief greeting, the man, called Kerapald, looked at the people who had followed Shiati.

"There are a lot of non-Resistance people here. Are they our collaborators?"

"No. We are the collaborators."

"What? What’s going on... Wait. Who are they?"

Seeing Historia and me, the man made an exaggerated expression of surprise.

He had a remarkably neat and featureless appearance.

In a good way, he looked decent, but in a bad way, he was nondescript, the kind of face you'd forget by the next day.

Acting like he knew Shiati from the beginning, he greeted us with a cheerful smile and began to approach us.

"Historia? Huey? Is it really you? How did you get here...!"

One surprise after another.

Despite his apparent delight, Historia looked less than pleased.

?I barely saved you from drowning in that river, and now you’ve gotten yourself into this dangerous place. Do you all have a death wish? Why do you all keep...?

To Historia, those she couldn't save were regrets, and those she did save were her hard-earned achievements.

Seeing them risk their lives so recklessly turned her displeasure into visible disdain.

Historia twisted her lips and avoided eye contact as she walked past him.

Kerapald retracted his outstretched hand awkwardly and glared at her.

"She hasn't changed at all. Historia still pretends we don't exist and doesn't see us. She’s really something."

As if he knew her well, he grumbled.

I stepped in to defend her since she left without saying anything.

"She's not pretending she doesn't see you. She's letting you be. From Ria's perspective, the Resistance is the enemy."

"Even so! What’s with her ambiguous attitude? Shouldn't she decide if she’s on our side or theirs?"

Kerapald huffed.

That attitude is typical of Kerapald.

The narrow-mindedness that categorizes people based on a childish dichotomy, the pettiness that expects more while relying on others’ kindness.’

He displayed all the traits of a small-minded, resentful civilian.

Despite this, he turned to me with a friendly smile.

"But anyway, Huey, it's been a long time. Knowing you’re here is reassuring."

He smiled as if he really knew me, even introducing himself just in case I didn’t recognize him.

"You remember me, right? It’s me, Kerapald!"

?I am Kerapald. The last survivor of Hamelin. A member of the Resistance, and your guide.?

Of course, I remembered Kerapald.

He was one of the few children who survived Hamelin.

As an aspiring Mage Officer, he had ambition and talent but unfortunately had to contend with a monstrous peer named Lankart.

A light too bright blinds others.

He might have become an officer had he sought another path, but with his narrow vision, he failed to escape Lankart's immense shadow.

Yes. I knew about him.

But…

"That day, you vanished without a word. Chento was disappointed, and Shiati was furious. But I knew. I knew you couldn't stay with the Military State. I was sure you'd join us one day, just like when we defeated Nicholas together!"

?Immerse in the role. Stay true to the character. Deceive {me}. I am Kerapald.?

...I don’t know who this madman is.

A person who strongly identified as themselves was usually a bored philosopher.

This man didn’t even resemble Kerapald.

But everyone saw him as Kerapald.

Shiati, who knew him best, and Historia, who saved him from the riverbed, recognized him as Kerapald.

"Kerapald. This is no time for that." freewёbnoνel.com

"What? The Princess herself here...?! Shiati, what’s going on?"

"There's a reason. Just calm down and listen, Kerapald."

"How can I stay calm? And who are these people?"

Cognitive dissonance set in.

Shiati, Historia, and the Princess clearly recognized him as Kerapald.

They kept projecting their perception onto his indistinct face.

But I knew better.

There was no room for doubt.

This person was a lunatic who identified himself as Kerapald… Ironically, this meant he was acutely aware that he wasn’t Kerapald.

Oho… Interesting.

This guy switched identities.

His skill level is impressive.

He seized the moment, introduced himself, and naturally brought up shared experiences to make everyone believe he was Kerapald.

This wasn't just a trick from a few years of practice.

Building familiarity.

A common tactic I used in my scams.

The difference was that while I merely ‘imitate’, he could ‘transform’.

Without exception, everyone saw, felt, and acted as if he were Kerapald.

This was... something close to the Arcane.

An utterly deceptive ability.

If I had this, scamming would have been so much easier.

It was unfair.

Fortunately, I had mind-reading.

If I hadn’t seen through her, I’d have followed this mimic pretending to be Kerapald right into a trap.

Like sirens luring sailors with songs or mimics enticing travelers with treasures, I would have followed this friend-faced impostor.

So, what to do?

"Okay. I decided."

"Hmm?"

I made my decision.

Calming myself, I used my mind-reading to mirror him.

He is Kerapald.

He is Kerapald.

He is Zigrund disguised as Kerapald.

No.

Don't read too deeply.

She'll notice I've figured it out.

She is not Zigrund, the Shadow of the Military State, Head of the Ministry of Public Safety.

She is not the darkness that is necessary for the stars to shine.

The dark matter that exists yet unseen.

She is not the Watcher... She is the Camarilla, Zigrund.

He is Kerapald, my friend from Hamelin, who survived to become a member of the Resistance, rejoicing in finally seeing his efforts pay off.

"...Since Shiati was here, I suspected it, but it really is you, Kerapald. It's been a long time since I’ve seen so many familiar faces."

It is not pleasant, because I don’t know him.

But I put on a bright smile like someone reuniting with an old friend and arrogantly said to ‘Kerapald’.

“Sorry, but the honor of destroying the Military State will be mine first.”

I’ll imitate the exact reaction she expects.

When is a person most off guard?

When they’re sound asleep?

When they’re awed by beautiful scenery?

No.

It’s just before they sink their teeth into the prey’s throat.

When all tension in their body was released and when they were immersed in the inevitable triumph.

The night of deceit and hunting has begun.