I Become a Secret Police Officer of The Imperial Academy

Chapter 8

As I pulled the living out of the underground burrow, a thought crossed my mind.

I’m not some lunatic who enjoys tormenting others.

I don’t take pleasure in “coercive conversations.”

If possible, I’d prefer to solve everything with a smile.

Of course, that doesn’t apply to anything involving demons.

I’m just a little angry.

Angry because I can’t understand why the person I loved most in this world had to die.

I mulled it over, turning it in my mind until I came up with an answer.

It’s because demons are hideous monsters.

That’s it.

Anyone who protects these monsters is a twisted devil in human skin.

If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t be able to accept any of this.

That’s why it’s so troubling that Count Rosenberg doesn’t look like a monster.

I know full well that this is just self-justification, arbitrary reasoning, and illogical nonsense.

But I cling to it anyway.

Because if I don’t, I’ll collapse.

I can’t stop now.

The moment I draped a cloth over Ethel’s face and poured water on her to flush out hidden demons, there was no turning back.

No matter how much I wish otherwise, I can’t return to laughing and playing with Ethel like we used to.

She flinches and wets herself just from hearing the word “water” now.

And that’s my fault.

I did that to her.

I shelved those nauseating thoughts for later.

I’ll think about all that once every last demon in the Empire is gone.

For now, I had to deal with something far more surprising.

I hadn’t expected to find this many living creatures hiding in that tiny underground burrow.

After Count Rosenberg crawled out, his wife followed — along with fourteen demons.

“…Quite a crowd you’ve got here,” I muttered.

“They’re just children.

They had nothing to do with the rebellion,” the count said in a pleading tone.

If he started talking about how “the children are innocent,” I’d blow his brains out on the spot.

I’ve seen it with my own eyes.

A “child” with horns on his head, gleefully using my subordinate’s severed head as a soccer ball.

They’re demons.

Born demons, raised as demons.

Whether they participated in the rebellion or not means nothing.

They just didn’t get the chance to join in.

“That’s something we’ll sort out later.

There’s no need to bind them.

Just follow along quietly.”

I had expected maybe six people to be down here.

I never imagined there would be sixteen.

I glanced at my watch.

Dinner time had already passed.

I’ll have fish for dinner tonight when I get home.

We marched up the stairs, and I lined them up in two rows.

At first, they kept breaking formation, so I fired a few warning shots near their feet.

After that, they marched like soldiers.

“It’d be nice if you all just followed orders while I’m still being kind,” I said.

I walked next to Count Rosenberg, prodding him with small remarks to see if I could get anything more out of him.

You never know what someone might blurt out when they think their world is crumbling.

“Harvest season, huh?

This whole situation must be a real headache for you.”

He didn’t rise to the bait.

Instead, he asked a question of his own.

“I don’t care about the harvest.

What happened to my son?”

Of course.

Sugar cane isn’t as precious as a son.

“He’s alive. Arms, legs, eyes, nose, mouth — all in one piece.”

“…Thank the heavens.”

“Unfortunate about your daughter, though. She was killed by one of the demons she was trapped with. Real shame.”

Of course, Ethel isn’t dead.

I just said it.

People only open up when they’re pushed to the edge — when they think something precious to them might be lost forever.

I watched as the life drained from the count’s face.

His wife, meanwhile, flew into a rage.

Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed her husband by the collar and shook him, screaming at him.

“I told you! I told you we should have left! We didn’t have to protect those demons! Were they more important to you than our daughter?!”

I placed a gentle hand on Count Rosenberg’s shoulder and whispered.

“They weren’t worth it, were they?

If you’re hiding anything else, now’s the time to speak up.”

“…There’s nothing else,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

His hollow gaze didn’t seem to be lying.

But still…

“Demons are everywhere, Count.

Why focus on us hiding down here…?”

“Because you’re hiding,” I said bluntly.

“Easy prey gets thrown to the angry mobs.

The ones that hide? We get them.”

The count didn’t resist, and neither did his wife.

The children followed in silence, as did the demons.

It was all so peaceful that it almost felt like the Rosenberg family could be a happy family again.

They were all still alive, after all.

That’s enough, isn’t it?

Julius only told me where his parents were hiding so he could protect his family — to protect his sister.

I’m sure he’ll understand.

Parents should respect their child’s choices.

They shouldn’t lock them up and whip them like my parents did.

I pressed down on the crow-marked mask, making sure it wouldn’t slip off.

It started to rain.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t brought an umbrella.

The rain soaked my dress, making it cling tightly to my body.

It was uncomfortable.

Embarrassing, even.

“Why did you bother hiding them in the first place?” I asked.

“Because people would’ve killed them the moment they saw them!”

“Well, they’re demons. Of course people would.”

“They worked on my land!

They tilled the soil and helped with the harvest!

I’ve known them since they were children.

Would you abandon someone you grew up with like that?”

The middle-aged man spoke passionately, his voice growing louder with each word.

I listened half-heartedly.

“‘Someone’ refers to a person, Count. No matter how loyal or hardworking a beast may be, if it bites, you put it down.”

“…Bite, you say?”

Yeah, he wasn’t hiding anyone else.

If he were, his reaction would have been a little more… defensive.

We continued to walk for a while, passing through the sorghum fields.

Then, perhaps realizing what would happen if they continued to cooperate, two demons — likely the parents of the smaller ones — made their move.

Each of them clutched a child in their arms, and with feral desperation, one of them tore out the throat of one of my subordinates.

Then they ran.

I inhaled deeply and steadied my aim.

With one eye closed, I took my shot.

Bang!

The first shot missed.

I clenched my shaky right hand with my left, steadying it.

Then I pulled the trigger again.

The bullet pierced the head of the father demon.

Unfortunate.

I hadn’t intended to kill him.

The other shots missed.

This is why pistols are so unreliable.

Once the target moves far enough away, they’re impossible to hit.

Even so, the mother demon stopped running.

She sat beside the body of the father demon, still holding her child tightly.

At least she didn’t try to run any further.

She wouldn’t have made it anyway.

If the sorghum fields had leaves, maybe she could have hidden, but the fields were barren.

We could see everything.

Even if I missed, the mage would have caught them in no time.

“Count Rosenberg, one of my men just died because of you.

What do you propose I do about that?”

The count closed his eyes tightly, refusing to answer.

One of my subordinates gently closed the eyes of his fallen comrade.

We wouldn’t be able to carry the body back with us.

We’d have to send someone later to retrieve it.

Was I careless? Or just exhausted?

There was no stench of blood in the air.

Only the wet, earthy smell of rain and soil.

“Drag them in.

If they resist, shoot them.”

“Understood.”

I stood there in the rain, staring at the body of the fallen subordinate for a long time.

Maybe it was the gloomy weather.

Maybe it was the rain soaking me to the bone.

Count Rosenberg muttered quietly, barely loud enough for me to hear.

“…Even if they resist…

Please, just… spare the child.”

I turned to look at him.

Is this man eating his years with his backside?

I stepped forward and slammed the handle of my gun into his jaw.

Crack!

Several of his teeth scattered onto the ground.

He deserved it.

“One of my men just died. Why should I care about the life of some filthy beast?”

Just then, the demons — the mother and child — were dragged back to us.

“Monster! You murderous monster! You’ll burn in hell for this, you—”

She was speaking clearly.

Not growling.

Not hissing.

Her words were clear, like a person’s.

Too clear.

I pressed the barrel of the gun against her forehead.

She kept struggling, shouting at me, cursing me.

I pulled the trigger.

Her body went limp, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

I pressed the barrel of my gun against the child demon’s temple.

“Ugh, this is exhausting,” I muttered.

I hesitated for a long moment, the count’s plea echoing in my mind.

In the end, I lowered the gun.

The little demon glared at me with seething hatred, his tear-streaked face twisted with rage.

“You’ll regret this! I’ll find you! I’ll rip you to shreds, you hear me?! I’LL KILL YOU!”

How adorable.

I’m wearing a mask, and this brat thinks he’ll somehow find me.

Even if he did, what could he do?

This is why demons are hopeless.

Just because I killed his parents, he’s screaming about revenge.

I didn’t see him shouting like this when my little sister died.

And his parents killed one of my men.

But sure, he’s the victim here.

My mood soured, and I fell into a sullen silence.

One of my subordinates muttered a complaint.

“Next time, give us a warning before you start shooting, young lady.

You scared the hell out of me.

Anyway, what should we do with this mess?”

“Sorry. Dump the body by the roadside.”

“Got it.

And what about the kid?

He’s over there yapping about ripping you apart and whatnot.

Want me to literally tear his mouth open?”

“Leave him. The count begged us to spare the kid.”

Capturing demons doesn’t always mean killing them.

There are other ways to “dispose” of them.

We left the sorghum fields and trudged along the dirt road.

Our carriage was waiting for us up ahead.

Now all that’s left is to load them up and move them.

After knocking them out, of course.

The method is simple:

A firm blow to the back of the head with something hard.

If one of them dies, well… that’s just an unfortunate accident.

I’d originally thought there’d only be six people to transport — maybe ten, at most.

Turns out, there were more than I’d planned for.

It looked like a hassle, but it wasn’t my problem.

Moving them was the subordinates’ job, not mine.

“Where should we take them?”

“Take the demons to the mansion’s conversation room.

Take the count to the academy’s conversation room.”

“Understood.

We’ll head there first, young lady.”

I checked my watch. It was midnight.

If I went home now, I’d arrive in the early hours of the morning.

Getting up tomorrow would be a pain.

When I’m this exhausted, it’s tempting to just use a teleportation scroll to warp straight home.

But I hate that method.

It’s much more comfortable to ride a carriage driven by someone else.

I should have just ridden with them.

Then again, the carriage would have been cramped with all those bodies.

After trudging back home, I cleaned myself up and collapsed into bed.

The warmth of the sun woke me up.

I blinked a few times, letting the sunlight fill my vision.

Then, like it was any other day, I got dressed and headed for the academy.

As if nothing had happened.