Chapter 10
Raimund and Cosette passed through the grand and sophisticated lobby and entered the interior.
After having their identities confirmed by a security guard—both Cosette’s and the researcher’s—they passed through
a gate for internal personnel and climbed to the second floor. Raimund was once again amazed.
“Someone get that phone! Where’s line 3?”
“Ecuador Shelter. Connecting you now.”
“What happened with the Phenomenon Class change for No. 1476?”
“It’s been upgraded from Lupe to Pesa class. The quarantine team will be moving it to a new containment cell. The
security clearance needs to be updated alongside that—how should we handle it?”
The open-plan space, devoid of any walls, contained dozens upon dozens of desks separated only by translucent glass partitions.
The incessant ringing of telephones. Videos and graphs streaming non-stop across seven screens mounted on one wall.
From the screens came not just the language of the British Shelter, but also foreign tongues, along with Shelter news and urgent updates from internet media, all jumbled chaotically together.
Overwhelmed by the bustling scene, something he’d never witnessed before, Raimund was guided into a small adjoining room.
A room with nothing but a desk, chairs, and a large monitor.
Cosette and the researcher stood by the door waiting, while Raimund sat obediently on the chair.
And a few minutes later.
Two knocks sounded, and someone opened the door and entered.
“Nice to meet you. No. 101. I’m Yokanam. Please, feel free to call me casually.”
The man who walked around to sit opposite Raimund immediately offered a handshake.
He carried a laptop and a file folder of unknown purpose. The man, who didn’t even offer a perfunctory smile, had particularly dark circles under his eyes.
His frizzy hair looked unkempt, and his loose tie gave off an air of exhaustion.
Raimund stood up, grasped his hand, and gave it a light shake.
“I’m Raimund Geppert. Please, feel free to call me casually too. Is Yokanam your real name, by any chance?”
“Everyone I meet for the first time asks that. Please, have a seat.”
Something about this guy seemed like he was pressed for time.
The icebreaker was exchanged in a businesslike, dry tone, devoid of any emotion.
“I heard you spent a few days in the quarantine cell. How are you feeling?”
“Ah, yes. Thanks to the researcher. My body moves well now. My voice is fine too.”
“Good to hear. Well then, shall we get straight to the point? I’m not sure if you’ve already been told, but we heard you were at the explosion site before coming to our side.”
The blinking red numbers.
The viscous sewage entering his mouth.
Raimund tried hard to shake off the memory as he answered.
“Yes.”
“Officially, it was announced as an explosion caused by aging underground water pipes bursting under pressure, which then affected a nearby underground waste processing facility. However, multiple experts hired by the Foundation Alliance have confirmed that it wasn’t a simple accident.”
“Yes.”
“We also received advice from our collaborators, and this incident was highly likely intentional, and we have an internal suspect we’re cautiously speculating about. But you understand that without witnesses and evidence, it’s just a guess, right?”
“Yes.”
“So I’d like you to answer honestly. Mr. Geppert, have you ever heard the name ‘Red Witch’?”
Raimund swore he had never once in his life heard such a ridiculous name.
A witch, fine, but why red? Was it the name of some circus troupe?
Erasing the image of an old woman in a black pointed hat cackling wickedly, he hastily replied.
“No. I’ve never heard of it.”
“I see. The ‘Red Witch’ is the name of a certain group, and true to their name, each member is said to possess at least one red item. Hats, shoes, clothes, that sort of thing.”
“They sound like peculiar people.”
“The reason they carry such markers is that they are an occult group.”
“O-Occult?”
“Of course, having a religion in itself is not a problem. Diversity of faith should be acknowledged, and it’s natural that different cultures worship different gods or objects. But the story changes when it comes to fanatics.”
Yokanam pulled several photos from the file folder he’d brought and turned them towards Raimund.
The photo quality wasn’t great, but it was immediately clear that the person captured in them was himself.
Raimund’s fingertips turned cold.
Yokanam tapped the photos as he continued.
“The Foundation Alliance used your damaged credit stick to track your movements. Before the explosion, you stopped by a café in the Economic Zone, and before that, you used an unmanned tram. Looking at the surveillance camera photo from the stop in the 4th Residential Zone, it’s clearly you. Handsome people like you are rare, after all.”
“Uh, yes.”
Was that a time to say thank you?
“But I understand you live in the 5th Residential Zone. Was there any particular reason you visited the 4th Residential Zone that day?”
So this is what an interrogation feels like.
Raimund racked his brain with all his might.
The fact that they had secured surveillance photos suggested that the organization called the Foundation Alliance likely had cooperation from the authorities.
But if he told them here that he’d been pickpocketing, got introduced to a credit exchange broker, and delivered a bomb?
He’d be tied up in a chain of offenses and end up in a cell for sure.
Besides, that file folder that Yokanam brought. How much information was in there? Surely, besides the surveillance photos of him, they must have collected other stuff too.
Under Yokanam’s sharp gaze, Raimund had to speak carefully.
Otherwise, he’d have effectively already booked his ticket on the express train to rock bottom.
“First off, it’s true I live in the 5th Residential Zone. And it’s true I went to the 4th Residential Zone, like in this photo. Here, I… I was asked to deliver a bomb.”
“You received an order to deliver a bomb? Did you have prior contact with someone else? A handler, perhaps?”
“No, nothing like that! Look, I don’t have a job right now. So I was surviving by taking trash to the recycling center in the 5th Residential Zone and getting credits for it.”
The 5th Residential Zone does indeed have many landfill sites and processing facilities.
All the trash from the Central, Administrative, Economic, and various Residential Zones is moved underground, where it’s sorted into recyclable and non-recyclable waste.
When recyclable waste is sent to the processing plant, they convert it into various resources and supply them to factories and facilities that need them.
Of course, on the surface it looks like a good deed, but underground, conveyor belts laden with stinking garbage rumble away.
Converting trash into useful resources also generates significant noise and pollution, which is why it’s considered a nuisance facility and relegated to the underground of the 5th Residential Zone.
In fact, quite a few people in the 5th Residential Zone make a living this way, collecting recyclables and selling them to the processing plant.
Raimund, however, had chosen pickpocketing as his profession due to its higher profitability, as he had a large family to support.
“Especially in residential zones, trash is frequently generated, so that day I was also scouting around the 5th and then moved to the 4th. But when I got off the tram, I heard a cat yowling loudly in an alley.”
“A cat?”
“Thinking it was just strays fighting over food or territory, I glanced over as I passed by and saw a black cat.”
“And?”
“So I approached and pet it a bit. It wasn’t shy of people.”
“A cat? That’s not something you see every day.”
“Cute, aren’t they?”
Yokanam stared at him incredulously.
But Raimund, his face as thick as iron, met his gaze defiantly.
What? Cats are cute. That’s a fact.
So approaching one absentmindedly to pet it is perfectly plausible behavior.
“…Let’s assume that’s true. And then?”
“Then I noticed something hanging from the cat’s neck. At first, I thought it was a collar. Not many people in the 4th Residential Zone keep pets, so I figured it might be a cat that wandered in from another zone. But there was a note attached to its neck.”
“What did the note say?”
“It said that if I delivered a bag inside a trash can to the Economic Zone, I’d be paid. When I opened the trash can next to me, sure enough, there was a bag.”
“To whom in the Economic Zone?”
“To the security guard at the back entrance of Amos Department Store.”
“But the explosion occurred on the road near the department store. Underground, at that. How do you explain that?”
“The note said not to open the bag, so at first, I didn’t. Of course, the promise of payment was also tempting. But as I entered the Economic Zone and was heading to the department store, I bumped into a pedestrian. Our clothes got caught, and the bag opened. And then—”
Those red numbers.
Raimund paused his breath for a moment before exhaling.
“I saw it. The numbers steadily decreasing.”
“You didn’t deliver the bag?”
“How could I, after seeing that? So I tried to get rid of it, but that day there were so many people. I didn’t know what to do, so I thought going underground might cause less collateral damage… I rushed down.”
Thinking back calmly now, it was a really strange logic.
Even underground, depending on the power of the explosive, the entire Economic Zone could have been blown away.
Then it wouldn’t have mattered if the bomb was above or below ground; many people would have died and been injured. Perhaps it would have been better to quickly turn it over to the Shelter police.
But the deed was done, and he had become an accessory to a serious crime.
Raimund lowered his gaze and added.
“I’m sorry.”
“I understand the general outline. But one thing still puzzles me. Even if payment was promised, would you readily deliver a bag for someone without knowing who they were? That doesn’t sound very sensible.”
“The note said I could collect the fee from the security guard at the department store’s back entrance. So I did it. Moving a bag and getting paid for it doesn’t seem like a difficult task, does it?”
“Didn’t you find it suspicious? Judging by your explanation just now, I didn’t get the impression that Mr. Geppert is stupid enough not to realize something was off.”
“I have a family at home. If I don’t earn, everyone starves. So even knowing it was strange, I went ahead with a sliver of hope…”
This should be enough.
This way, it becomes a crime committed by him alone, and he can also garner sympathy for the ‘desperate circumstances of trying to feed his family.’
He’d also given them enough information about the contact method they were curious about. True, there was a bit of a lie mixed in, but he was confident that things like the note would have been completely burned up in the explosion.
Yokanam looked at the visibly deflated Raimund for a moment, then leaned back in his chair.
Two minutes of silence passed slowly. Finally, Yokanam spoke.
“Mr. Geppert, do you know how many citizens were injured in the explosion?”
“……”
“Four people near the blast site suffered serious injuries. Twenty-nine people were injured by flying debris at the time of the explosion. Fortunately, those were minor. Because the water pipes buried underground in the Economic Zone burst, all the shops in the area had to close entirely. The protests from store owners are no joke. Gas pipes burst too, and aside from the gas leak itself, we had a hell of a time preventing a secondary explosion.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“It’s a miracle there were no fatalities. Mr. Geppert, you were incredibly lucky.”
“It doesn’t feel very lucky, for someone who caused the entire Economic Zone to shut down.”
“That’s also true.”
Yokanam’s tone softened slightly.
“If you hadn’t noticed what was in the bag and had delivered it to the department store, or even if you had noticed but hadn’t gone down to the underground water system, no matter how lucky you were, there would have been dozens of deaths.”
That’s probably true?
Suddenly changing the direction of the conversation, Raimund blinked.
Yokanam said seriously.
“Your action to prevent the explosion had meaning. The department store is full of people, and if the building had collapsed, many more would have died and been injured than now. I’m not saying it was good that you delivered the bomb. Do you understand?”
“Oh.”
“It’s important, so I’ll say it again. Just for delivering the bomb, you should be in prison right now. That’s a crime. However, because your judgment reduced the scale of damage, and because you acted recognizing the greater value of public safety over your own, you are sitting in this chair right now. I hope you realize that.”
Yokanam’s slightly rounded eyes narrowed sharply. Man, he actually looks scary.
Having never been scolded by an elder since leaving the orphanage, Raimund flinched slightly.
Before the cowering Raimund, Yokanam somewhat irritably loosened his tie, then pulled a few more documents from that damned file folder.
“This is the compensation amount you are liable for.”
“Compensation, what?”
“Compensation amount. As I mentioned earlier, the Economic Zone will be paralyzed until the water and gas pipes are repaired. The shop owners are protesting fiercely because of this. So, the Shelter government plans to provide them with relief funds—”
“Relief funds?”
“Yes, relief funds. However, they deemed it difficult to place all the blame for this incident solely on you, so while you were in the quarantine cell, our team discussed with the legal department and adjusted it so that you only pay a certain percentage.”
Yokanam extended a navy blue fountain pen, but Raimund couldn’t even bring himself to take it. Instead, he grabbed the document and devoured it, practically pressing his nose to the paper.
Compensation, Economic Zone, water pipe explosion, sewer damage, business suspension. Credits. Average daily profit conversion.
With trembling hands, he flipped to the very last page, where a clear conclusion was neatly summarized in three lines.
“Finished reading already? First, the government will pay 34 million credits. That’s the price for failing to fulfill its duty to protect citizens. And our Foundation Alliance will pay 50 million credits as compensation. Since it’s partly our responsibility for failing to track them if the Red Witch is involved.”
“Th-then, below that—”
“That’s the amount Mr. Geppert must pay to the Economic Zone. A total of 30 million credits. In old currency, that’s about 15 million pounds.”
15 million pounds. 30 million credits.
The amount on Raimund’s own credit stick was barely a few hundred credits at most.
Raimund Geppert was stunned into silence.
As of today, he had become the most indebted person in history.
