Chapter 57

The Blue Wolves.

On the surface, they were labeled a bandit troupe, but in reality, their reach was far more extensive. When first formed, they were a mere gang that stole money, but as their numbers swelled, they branched out into kidnapping, human trafficking, dealing in stolen goods, and even contract killing.

It was more accurate to call them a criminal syndicate.

While they primarily ravaged Isu, they had recently begun surfacing in the other three nations to commit heinous crimes.

By now, neither the detectives nor the knights of any country could grasp the exact scale or headcount of the organization. It was said that they were absorbing independent criminals and smaller bandit groups, expanding their influence even at this very moment.

They would raze a village to the ground, sell the young men and women into slavery, and slaughter everyone else.

They would storm a nobleman’s manor, leave no survivors, and strip the place bare.

They would murder servants to kidnap the daughters of wealthy merchants, vanishing only after extracting exorbitant ransoms.

The list of gruesome incidents perpetrated by the Blue Wolves was endless.

Currently, not only were the detectives and knights of every nation searching for them with bloodshot eyes, but so were influential power brokers and members of royalty.

That was precisely why, if even a single member of the Blue Wolves was found, they would be subjected to relentless, secret torture until they confessed every scrap of information they possessed.

Even so, up until now, the authorities had managed to take down small splinter cells at best; they had yet to deal a fatal blow to the organization as a whole.

“I can’t believe it. To think you were a member of the Blue Wolves all along.”

Kirio pressed a pale finger to her eye, feigning a sob.

“I’m so shocked. Not you, Van…”

“Hey, knock it off.”

I wasn’t in the mood to laugh at the joke. Just as I shifted to confront her with a sour look, a sword was thrust against my throat.

“Don’t move, criminal. Did you forget I’m the one keeping watch?”

The short man gripping the sword spat the words out with pure loathing.

There was something nostalgic about his blatant hostility that almost made me want to smile, but I held it back. I knew that if I laughed, this man would fly into a rage and might actually stab me.

“Calm down, Bob. The carriage is shaking. You’re going to poke me just from the vibrations.”

I spoke to Bob Meijin, a member of the knighthood whom I hadn’t seen since we graduated from the military academy.

“Hmph.”

His face flushed slightly. Bob hadn’t changed a bit since our student days, his breathing still heavy with indignation.

The three of us—Kirio, Bob, and I—were riding in a carriage.

None of us knew our destination. That alone was enough to show how abnormal this situation was. On top of that, I currently had Bob pointing a sword at me. I really wanted him to lower it. If a horse got spooked by something and the carriage jolted, it would be the end of me.

How did things end up like this?

It all started three days ago, when Django suddenly appeared and claimed I was a member of the Blue Wolves.

The accusation carried immense weight, considering I held the position of Assistant Deputy Director of the Shark Royal Detective Agency. Or rather, it should have carried weight.

Fortunately, my superior, Geralt, had been present.

Given that the accuser was a fellow member of the Seven Detectives, Geralt knew it would be impossible to settle the matter quietly through normal channels. Within the day, he moved behind the scenes, pulling strings with the King and Queen of Shark and other influential figures. He flatly rejected the claim, stating, “We will not entertain this accusation unless the evidence is made public.”

The next day, when Django mobilized his entire network to have me arrested, Geralt had already contacted powerful figures abroad.

At that point, Geralt held the upper hand in terms of sheer influence. Geralt was a detective who excelled in political maneuvering, a specialist in resolving matters through diplomacy and power. That strength was exactly why he was one of the Seven Detectives. As long as the battle stayed on that playing field, Django couldn’t beat him.

I had begun to relax, thinking the whole thing would blow over without incident.

The situation flipped just yesterday. Django announced that he would “reveal the evidence of Van’s membership in the Blue Wolves in a public setting.” Geralt’s earlier ultimatum—that they wouldn’t listen unless he made it public—had backfired. It was effectively an invitation: “If you reveal it, we’ll take the accusation seriously.”

Even high-ranking officials from various nations didn’t fully understand the details regarding Django. The same went for his investigative methods. That mystery was supposed to be Django’s greatest strength. Furthermore, this involved the Blue Wolves. If he explained his reasons for suspecting me, that information itself would be highly valuable, and he would have to reveal his methods, the nature of his investigation, and his information sources to some extent.

Because of that, Geralt assumed Django would never reveal his evidence.

Geralt had talked big based on that assumption, only to have the rug pulled out from under him.

That said, the Royal Detective Agency couldn’t just sit back while their Deputy Director was labeled a member of a criminal syndicate. The Kingdom of Shark had its own pride to consider.

To make matters worse, because Django and Geralt had both exhausted their personal connections, news of the incident had spread quite far among the international elite. Since it involved the Blue Wolves, the level of attention was peaking.

As a result, the political tug-of-war between a cornered Geralt and a determined Django turned into a massive ordeal. As the person at the center of it all, I could do nothing but watch in dismay as the situation spiraled out of control.

Then, today, without any explanation of how the talks had concluded, a direct order came from the King: I was to board a carriage and head to a designated destination.

Accompanied by the court physician, Kirio Rahura, and guarded by the prominent Shark nobleman, Bob Meijin.

“Bob, do you know where this carriage is going?”

Bob looked down at me with an expression that suggested he was staring at a total moron.

“I told you, I’m your guard. Do you really think I’m just going to tell you?”

“Ah, so you don’t know.”

“There is no way I wouldn’t know. Don’t waste your breath with such pathetic provocation.”

Contrary to his words, Bob’s eyelid gave a tiny, rhythmic twitch.

“You definitely don’t know. I mean, you are Bob, after all.”

“It’s the hideout! Django’s hideout!” Bob screamed, his face turning beet-red in an instant.

“Let me tell you something—this matter has become far more serious than you seem to realize. Django’s hideout, which has never been revealed to any official and which no nation has ever been able to locate, is finally going to be exposed. Do you understand? The stakes have ballooned; this isn’t just about you anymore.”

“So, because Django wagered the location of his hideout, the Kingdom of Shark had to put up something of equal value?”

“Exactly. Our national prestige is on the line. With the story having grown this large and every other country watching, imagine what would happen if the conclusion is that you really are a member of a bandit troupe. It would be a national disaster. Therefore—”

The color suddenly drained from Bob’s face as his eyes narrowed into slits.

“—If it turns out that you really are one of them, I’ll kill you myself before the other side can confirm it. We’ll have no choice but to leave the truth buried in the dark.”

“You’ve certainly changed since our student days.”

The honest thought slipped out before I could stop it.

I didn’t know what kind of life Bob had led since graduating from the military academy, but for a split second just now, I had felt a flash of genuine bloodlust.

He might actually be a handful.

“There’s no need to be so prickly. There’s no way Van is a member of the Blue Wolves,” Kirio chimed in with a strangely carefree voice. “Right?” she added, flashing a smile in my direction.

“Yeah.”

“See? Van says so too.” She turned her face toward Bob.

“As if the culprit would ever just confess—”

Bob suddenly froze.

I couldn’t see Kirio’s face from my angle, but Bob’s expression began to twitch violently.

“W-well, for my part, I don’t truly believe a former classmate is a bandit either…” Bob stammered, his face pale and his cheeks spasming as he tried to walk back his statement.

“I thought so.”

Kirio spun back to face me. Her expression was the same breezy, nonchalant one from before.

“Anyway, I wonder where Django’s hideout actually is. Is the carriage driver the only one who knows?” I asked, quickly changing the subject to hide the fact that I’d clocked his terror of Kirio.

“Yeah. The driver was provided by Django’s side, so basically, all we can do is sit here in silence. We’re even forbidden from having anyone tail us. However…”

The look of terror vanished, replaced by a smug grin on Bob’s face.

“In reality, our knighthood has a pretty good idea of where Django’s hideout is located.”

“Oh?”

That was a detail even the Royal Detective Agency didn’t know.

“The knights occasionally coordinate with the knighthoods of other nations for business—joint training exercises and the like. We’ve been exchanging information about Django there. The regions where he was active early in his career, the fact that no country could find a base, the tracking logs from various nations… when you synthesize all of that, you can make a solid guess.”

“Hmm. But if that’s the case, why hasn’t the guess been confirmed?” Kirio asked, raining on Bob’s parade.

“Because the suspected location is incredibly difficult to investigate. That’s exactly why no country has found it yet,” Bob spat out bitterly. “The Blackwood, located in the border region between the Kingdom of Shark and the nation of Pace. My guess is that the hideout is in there.”

Hearing Bob say “my guess” while casually taking credit for the knighthood’s work made me want to chuckle; some things truly never changed.

Still, the Blackwood.

It was a dense, lightless forest where the canopy was so thick that sunlight rarely touched the floor. It was crawling with monsters, and the oppressive darkness played havoc with one’s sense of direction, making it easy to get lost. People rarely ventured inside.

Because of that, the Blackwood itself served as a natural border between Pace and Shark.

“That forest would certainly make an ideal hideout. I suppose if you used some kind of marking system, you could manage to move through it in a straight line.”

“Yeah. But even if you can figure out your direction, it’s meaningless if you don’t have a specific destination in mind. And that forest is vast. If someone decides to hide away in there, they’re untouchable.”

“But because of that, aren’t both Shark and Pace supposed to be strictly managing the perimeter, even if they can’t control the interior?”

“That is…”

Bob faltered at my half-remembered observation before turning his cold, narrow eyes back on me.

“Exactly. That’s why the knighthood has long suspected that Django has a collaborator—someone among the nobility of either Shark or Pace who is facilitating his passage into the woods.”

“I see.”

I finally had a lead on why Bob seemed so personally invested in this case.

“If there’s a mole on the inside, it’s going to be a disaster.”

When I said that casually, Bob looked at me with eyes that looked ready to commit murder. Tension spiked within the carriage.