Chapter 333: Backstage (1)

It seemed a lot had happened while I was down sick.

Thankfully, Ska explained the situation before I even had the chance to ask with my hoarse voice.

First, about the brainwashed hostages.

Not all of them had been brainwashed, he said. But many had come back holding warped ideas. Those ideas spread, causing small internal disturbances among the Badgers.

“The brainwashed ones believe you’re the mastermind behind everything. They claim Black Badger is being deceived by you and your lackeys. That we’re dancing in the palm of your hand.”

A textbook move.

I nodded lazily, thinking that Kyle’s wartime skills hadn’t rusted at all.

When I heard “brainwashing,” I’d assumed magic was involved. But it wasn’t. Kyle had simply done exactly what he would do.

I would have done something similar myself.

If you’re planning to return them anyway, isn’t it better to feed them biased information and stir internal discord?

“But Leeho looked fine.”

“He’s a former intelligence operative. He knows how to resist brainwashing procedures.”

Ah. So that was his background.

I let out a small snort, thinking the job fit him perfectly.

Once I recovered a bit more, I wanted to hear the details directly from that perpetually tired senior.

As if on cue, Ska spoke.

“It’s best to hear the full story from Leeho himself. Once you’re well enough to be discharged, talk to him. He wants to explain it to you personally too.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“No. We should’ve prevented the discord in the first place. Sorry. We realized it too late.”

“This much is just standard warfare, isn’t it.”

The Badgers were only used to fighting Creatures. They hadn’t been trained to deal with this kind of attack.

They didn’t really understand how traditional human-versus-human warfare worked.

Brainwashing? Of course it would stick.

Kyle was a thoroughly seasoned veteran when it came to traditional war.

“The entire Personnel Department, including the Personnel Director, is handling it now. For the time being, don’t meet the hostages except for Leeho.”

“Understood.”

“And about Kyle.”

Ska leaned an arm against the hospital bed frame as he asked.

That feeling stuck in my throat still wouldn’t go away.

I frowned faintly in irritation and looked at Ska. I wanted to sit up, but I didn’t have the strength yet.

The aide—who I didn’t even know exactly where he’d been injured—asked his question.

“Why do you think he didn’t try to extract your memories right away?”

“Hm? That’s what you’re curious about?”

“Yeah. We thought he’d rip your memories out and then cut your throat immediately.”

That’s right.

“But instead, he tried to remove your sixth sense—something time-consuming and not all that useful to them.”

“Yes.”

“You could say it was because he hated you that much. That might even be true. But seeing such irrational behavior from the enemy made me think otherwise.”

Even while hospitalized from a beating, those black eyes were razor-sharp.

The aide stared straight through me.

“That Kyle is drawing a bigger picture than just killing you.”

I understood what Ska meant.

I stayed silent for a moment to organize my thoughts.

Seeing my expression, my superior gave a bitter smile.

“If he were just some idiot satisfied with suicide bombing, that’d make things easier for us. But he doesn’t seem like that kind of person. You get what I’m saying, right? Our war ends when Kyle dies, but their war doesn’t end just because you die, Hilde.”

“Yes. Even if they kill me, humanity’s nukes won’t disappear, and humanity won’t pretend they never knew about their existence.”

“Exactly. That’s why I keep thinking this. What if, this time, they made an offer where they had nothing to lose? Whether you showed up at the negotiation table or not might not have mattered. If you came, great. If they could kidnap you, even better. Torture you, extract your memories, and kill you—best case scenario. But even if none of that worked out, it might not have been a serious loss for them. Because they were preparing something else. This whole thing might’ve just been part of a larger plan. Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

“Yes. Is it possible they planted something in the hostages?”

“We checked them thoroughly, but nothing turned up. Still, as you know, we don’t have any mages.”

“I did eat a few of them.”

I answered calmly, staring at the ceiling.

Looking at the tiles dotted with black stains, I organized everything that had happened.

The current state of Black Badger and Kyle’s side.

The Elders’ position.

Humanity’s position. Black Badger’s enemies were Kyle and the Creatures. But Kyle’s enemy wasn’t Black Badger—it was humanity itself.

Most of humanity still didn’t even know Kyle’s side existed.

Taking all that into account, I reached my own conclusion.

I couldn’t be sure it was the right one.

“I think there’s a high chance your ominous hunch is correct.”

“Is that so? I expected as much, but it’s still bad news to hear.”

“Still, I don’t think we took a loss in this clash. For Black Badger as an organization, it was the best possible response. Up to now, haven’t we gained more than we lost?”

How history would judge it later was another ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ matter.

Just as the discovery of immortality had been a blessing in the short term but a disaster in the long term. Time overturns evaluations of historical events—but you can’t know in advance how they’ll be overturned. People living in the present can only do their best within present conditions.

At least, that’s what I’d always believed.

Because no one knows the unchanging future.

“We came to the same conclusion.”

That calm voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

Ska looked at me and smiled faintly.

“Let’s be glad about a small victory, but not grow arrogant.”

“Yes.”

“It’s just... your judgment that Kyle isn’t the type to be satisfied with suicide bombing is a bit depressing.”

Knowing what he meant, I gave a bitter smile.

Ska Owen watched my expression closely, then let out a sigh.

“Nothing’s easy.”

Tell me about it.

Suppressing the urge to sigh myself, I turned my gaze back to the ceiling.

If only we could prepare.

I wanted to strike Kyle, then—with Colton’s help—integrate the remaining kin into society.

I no longer thought I could persuade my old friend. Instead of clinging to hopeless optimism, it was better to think of realistic alternatives.

I needed to extract the best possible outcome from the given situation.

Ah.

I just wanted all of this to end quickly.

“Hilde.”

Lost in thought, I heard Ska call my name softly.

I blinked.

“Yes?”

“What’s your final goal?”

Hm?

I looked at my superior, who was quietly observing me, with confusion.

“My goal is to defeat the kin outside and integrate those who surrender into society.”

“Yeah, I know that. Besides that.”

“Besides that?”

What else was there?

“Falcon.”

Ska spoke slowly.

He had rested his arms on his knees now.

“Are you going to kill him?”

I stared at Ska’s poker face for a long time.

As time passed, darkness deepened outside the uncovered window. Jonathan showed no sign of coming in. Only the sound of the medical equipment attached to me tickled my ears.

A hospital room that was surely soundproofed.

I answered slowly.

“Probably.”

At least, that’s my intention for now.

“That’s not an immutable answer. I don’t know how things will change. For now, I need him until the kin are safely integrated.”

“I see.”

“Why do you ask?”

Was it personal curiosity, or organizational business?

Reading the question in my expression, Ska understood.

He smiled slightly.

“Both personal and official. If you’re firmly resolved to take them down, we need to prepare on our end too. I wasn’t even sure if it was ‘them’ or just ‘him,’ so I asked.”

“Spitfire and Sukhoi.”

I answered immediately.

Since he’d asked, I wasn’t going to miss my chance either.

If I let this go, I didn’t know when I’d get another opportunity to ask what I was curious about.

“Do you know what kind of people they were?”

“Want me to recite the raccoons’ history?”

He smirked, so I nodded enthusiastically.

“Please.”

“Then I’ll have to start from the end of the First War. You don’t remember anything after that point, after all.”

Ska stretched his legs out and leaned properly against the bed frame.

After relaxing his body, he began recounting behind-the-scenes stories civilians would never know.

Stories he himself must have heard from someone else.

“The one with the longest career is Falcon. He ascended to the position of Supreme Elder about fourteen years after the First War ended.”

Longer than I expected.

“He only truly reached the pinnacle after the Second War ended. He was already an Elder before that, but until the Second War, he wasn’t the top dog.”

His calm voice explained.

“At the time, the one at the top was an ultra-hardliner among hardliners. His name was Magnus. Do you remember him?”

“Ah. He lived longer than I thought.”

I muttered before I could stop myself.

“I remember.”

He had followed the Ice Emperor’s will more faithfully than anyone. Blind, therefore foolish—and because he was blind, dangerous. A disgusting, troublesome man who excelled at dividing sides and forming factions.

I remembered planning his death before the war broke out.

The moment I recalled that extremist who couldn’t tolerate our existence, revulsion surged, and I muttered,

“Did Falcon take him out?”

“Yes. A man who, despite being a hardliner, had consistently argued that even foreign species should be given room to breathe—he overturned a throne that hadn’t wavered for fourteen years.”

One cannot kneel to Titans.

But there were those who argued that if Titans knelt of their own accord, they should be allowed to live on Earth under strict surveillance. Those so-called moderates among the hardliners finally drew their swords after the Second War ended.

Colton only shows his blade when he’s ready.

Magnus and the extremist hardliners lost their lives at Falcon’s hands.

“They were trapped inside an electric car and burned to death.”

They say not even ashes remained.

“That’s when Black Badger’s Supreme Commander was replaced too.”

My eyebrow twitched.

Pretending not to notice my reaction, Ska continued.

“The first Supreme Commander was a former soldier—and Magnus’s puppet.”

The first Supreme Commander, known to the public as having died of old age.

They say Yehyeon and Saul were aides to that puppet at the time.

“From then on, Yehyeon became famous for footage of killing a tenth-class Creature, and people predicted he’d succeed the first Supreme Commander. But that was just a rumor. In reality, a successor had already been chosen. Magnus’s puppet, version two.”

“But Magnus died, so puppet version two couldn’t take the seat.”

“Right. There was a bloody purge. Afterward, Falcon took the top and installed Yehyeon as Supreme Commander.”

I barely suppressed the urge to sigh.

Then I snorted as I thought of Colton, who had secretly maneuvered even while Magnus held power, successfully integrating the kin into society.

Working with him hadn’t been pointless.

Yoow must have suffered a lot.

“Was installing Yehyeon—who wasn’t his puppet—as Supreme Commander due to public opinion?”

“Exactly. It was to ensure a smooth transition of power. And to show he wasn’t another Magnus.”

“Black Badger must’ve had a rough time for a while.”

Even if Yehyeon wasn’t a complete puppet, he couldn’t exactly rebel outright against Colton, who’d put him there.

Ska smiled bitterly.

“So I hear.”

In fact, they only became able to resist the Elders’ influence after starting the territorial reclamation campaign and pulling in money.

It hadn’t even been ten years since they’d secured a comfortable space free from interference.

“For reference, the zombie incident happened about nine years ago.”

Ska murmured, looking at the IV line stuck in the back of his hand.

“Since then, Falcon’s occasionally let Jaeyeon rampage without locking him up.”

“Ah... I understand now.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

Now I finally understood why Yehyeon kept getting beaten senseless by Jaeyeon—and why Ska was hospitalized here.

I should’ve guessed. Even if Jaeyeon was a lunatic overflowing with hatred and on par with Lee Seunghyun in skill, he was still Colton’s hound, moving only with Colton’s approval.

A being with no real freedom, unable to act without Colton’s permission.

That crazy bastard Colton was unleashing Jaeyeon as a tool for venting frustration and exerting control.

He always used traditional methods when keeping things in check.

Thinking back, it was the same then. The moment Yehyeon announced he’d gotten his hands on me, Colton released Jaeyeon.

He must have been furious beyond restraint.

A control-freak psychopath bastard.

“He kept his promise, which is commendable—but we can’t just leave him there quietly.”

I sneered into empty air.

“At the very least, I’ll drag him down from the pinnacle.”

I’d make him kneel and kiss my feet.

Even if I had to kick the backs of his knees, I’d force those knees—never bent in decades—to bend. I’d smash his head down and make him bow.

And then I’d take what I couldn’t take before.

A kiss of submission.

Pressed against a Titan’s foot.

The kiss of humiliation he’d hate more than death itself.