Chapter 427: I’m Friends With Sewer Rats! [I]
Chapter 427: I’m Friends With Sewer Rats! [I]
"I’m never going with you anywhere ever again," was what Michael said to me as soon as we left for home.I couldn’t stop laughing at him.
He had both his arms crossed over his chest like a chaste maiden after a scandalous night out, faint red lipstick stains all over his clothes and skin, and a look of burning betrayal directed entirely at me.
"Oh, come on. I’m pretty sure I heard you purring by the end there. You were starting to enjoy it!" I said, smiling accusingly.
Michael was aghast. "I was not!"
"What’s the harm anyway?" I asked. "Lily and you are broken up anyway. And as someone somewhat experienced in these things, let me tell you the quickest way to get over a breakup — getting laid."
Instead of getting flustered as I had expected, he recovered his cool and gave me a sidelong glance. "Hmm, so why did you come with me? Surely not because you were worried for my mental health."
"Hey, maybe I was!" I insisted, sensing this talk wasn’t going where I had thought it would.
"Sure," Michael snorted, rolling his eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "You don’t have an altruistic bone in your body. What was your agenda?"
"My agenda—" I made air quotes before throwing one arm over his shoulder, "was strictly therapeutic. A little merrymaking to remind us that we are young, attractive, and alive. You’re welcome, by the way."
Michael stiffened under my arm but didn’t push me away. "Now, how about you stop deflecting? Something obviously happened between you and Julia."
Wow.
Either I was getting really easy to read or this guy was getting less stupid.
With a bit of reluctance, I recounted everything.
From start to finish. How I manipulated her into the Rexerd situation, made her make a vow in the Slate of Ten Commandments, and ultimately dropped my guard. Everything.
By the time I finished, the early morning air was crisp, and the sky was just beginning to bruise into a pale lavender.
Michael had quieted down over the last ten minutes of my rant, the lingering flush on his face from his own wild night finally fading into a weird, thoughtful expression.
He looked sober, but in no mood to use his voice. I had to nudge him with my elbow when he didn’t say anything for a while even after I was done speaking.
"Well? Say something," I prompted. "Tell me she’s a psychopath. Validate my completely reasonable desire to lock her out of the house. Or at least tell me to not play her game and get the fuck away from her."
Michael stopped walking. And just when I thought he was about to answer me, his hand went over his mouth.
"You guys killed Professor Rexerd?" he breathed shakily, his pupils blown wide and trembling. "You killed him and now you’re confessing?"
I was about to tell him he was focusing on the wrong subject when he looked up, jerked away from my hold, and grabbed both my shoulders to shake me.
"Sam, you stupid idiot!" he hissed, looking around to make sure the street was empty like we were discussing something conspiratorial, his hushed voice a frantic whisper that cut through the quiet dawn. "He was a generational genius! He perfected the mindscape drug and created countless Essence Refinement Potions! There’s a whole brew named after him! He was the world’s best alchemist!"
I swatted his arms off me so he’d stop shaking my body, my bones thoroughly rattled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, and he was also a kidnapper and a thief, a predator and a rapist, a groomer and a traitor, a torturer, murderer, spy, and a member of the Syndicate."
The poor guy before me seemed like he didn’t know how to even begin to process all that. "Wh... What?!"
I sighed and, with a bit more reluctance, broke the news to him.
By the time I finished detailing the depths of all of Rexerd’s crimes, the sheer gravity of the revelation had clearly shattered whatever remaining peace of mind Michael had left.
I laid out the timeline of Rexerd’s atrocities — all the missing Cadets that were written off as rogue beast attacks on missions, the illicit experiments in the hidden laboratory of his personal Dimensional Chamber, and the fact that he was directly feeding all kinds of logistical data to the Syndicate.
Oh, and also how he helped the Nameless Lords in hollowing out Ishtara, spreading addiction and rot and corruption there while planning its downfall.
Michael’s hands dropped to his sides as he stared at the pavement. "That’s... I don’t even know what to say. He... gave me an endorsement letter for a private workshop when I last saw him. Usually the professors reserve the seats for nobles. But he never discriminated between peasants and gentry. And to think... he was..."
"Yes, well, a wolf doesn’t show its teeth until it’s ready to bite," I said. The fact that he was trusting me at face value didn’t go unnoticed by me.
Another stretch of silence drew, unbroken until he dared to ask, "So how many?"
"Hmm?" I was confused.
"How many like him, how many spies, are there in the Academy?"
I gave him a look. "Why do you think there are more?"
"Are there not?" He returned my look. "If someone even as celebrated as him was compromised, then there ought to be others. You wouldn’t have dirtied your own hands if there was an alternative. So you’re planning something. Which means there is still an active threat that needs you to plan against, right? In the Wilds, you did mention that Princess Alice and Prince Willem are due for an assassination attempt soon. Apex’s security should be impossible to breach, unless..."
Oh.
Look at that. The protagonist was connecting the dots without me even having to hold the crayon for him. His intuition was always something to behold, really.
It was almost a beautiful sight — if the picture he was painting wasn’t a total apocalypse.
I nodded simply, as if that was an answer enough for now.
"You know you can talk to us, don’t you?" He said. "At least to me, if you don’t want to reveal what your... visions showed you to everyone else."
For a second, I did entertain the idea of telling him everything I knew.
Then I imagined if he would’ve said this to me, if he had treated me the same way he was treating me right now, if he knew the reality of what I’d done in Ishtara.
Aside from misleading him and everyone else, I slaughtered half a city for a Divine Artifact and a chance at stopping a world war... a war which seemed as if it was going to happen now anyway.
Would he weigh the pros and cons with the same logical clarity as mine? Would he analyze the situation using the same lens I used?
Or would he also claim that I had no right to play god?
Would he tell me that in my blinding arrogance, I took a gamble with thousands of lives that weren’t mine to wager? A gamble that didn’t seem like it was going to pay anymore.
"Does that mean you finally believe my words?" I asked. "About my revelations, I mean. My visions of the future."
He responded with a shrug, then repeated his previous question. "How many more are there?"
Wouldn’t I have liked to know that too?
"I have no idea," I answered honestly. "But what I do know, and can tell you, is that as things stand now, the Academy will be breached easily."
NABC