Chapter 129

Apologies.

According to reports, the entire content of the letter Anais sent to drug addict Leon was an apology from start to finish.

“Is that really true?”

“It absolutely is. Why would I have allowed it to be delivered to Leon if it weren’t?”

At least, that’s what the major pacing in front of me claimed.

…I am sorry for introducing you to the syrup, I didn’t anticipate you’d end up consuming it too, but I understand that isn’t an excuse. I’ve heard you’re now taking drugs far worse than that syrup; ultimately, it’s still my responsibility…

The content of the letter, as reported through the communication device by the major, was apparently along these lines.

Therefore, it passed the censorship.

Currently, the officers personally selected by Victoria herself were in charge of supervising Leon Rothe Dale.

Victoria hadn’t picked the wrong individuals; they had successfully managed Leon thus far. Consequently, Leon had been able to accumulate significant merit in battles against demon worshippers. Enough to earn medals if he were an ordinary knight.

But all Leon ever wanted, past and present, was the drugs.

In reward for his efforts, all Leon had requested was: “Bulongyi and Monglongyi must always be taken together but separately.”

For a while, I had given him a pill that combined morphine, ephedrine, and caffeine, but having accepted his request, I had recently been distributing them separately. The officers were utilizing these drugs to manage Leon efficiently.

Yet, just because of Anais’ apology, Leon lost control.

Did Anais’ mere expression of regret cause Leon to reflect on his drug-filled life and declare abstinence? Or was he unleashing his rage upon the officers who used narcotics as bait to exploit him? Both scenarios seemed unlikely.

“Apologies.”

How could I frame an apology to incite Leon, a severe narcotics addict?

Thinking it through, I could.

I understood the tipping point for severe addicts, the victim mentality they might feel; it wasn’t difficult to provoke them with appropriate phrasing that bypassed censorship.

However…

No matter how I considered it, Anais didn’t strike me as capable of such a strategy.

I wasn’t disregarding her single-minded pursuit of vengeance from the monastery, but something felt off. How could Anais have managed it? It wasn’t as if the now compassionate Siena had ghostwritten it for her younger sister.

At this moment, Sienna, who had been silent, finally spoke.

“It’s my fault.”

“Sienna…?”

“You know, I used to enjoy sending him letters, even occasionally updating him on Leon Rothe Dale’s state. I thought it might further distress him. Anais likely used the information I provided effectively.”

For once, Sienna admitted without a trace of a smile.

Only now did my suspicion dissolve.

Anais could gather external information through bodyguards or nuns, yes, but accurately assessing Leon’s condition would’ve been nearly impossible. My half-sister’s letters likely acted as crucial references for Anais, intended to mentally torment him.

“Looks like I cultivated this.”

Witnessing Sienna’s introspective demeanor was a unique experience, but now wasn’t the time for such analysis. This situation arose because Anais irresponsibly dragged her superior into punishment duty in the first place.

Let’s focus on damage control.

After deciding, I turned my attention back towards the lieutenant colonel from the Military Affairs Ministry.

“Understood. Precisely what’s the situation?”

“Comte, it’s…”

“Spit it out.”

“We’re currently in a standoff with Leon. That’s what I was last informed about. I’m unaware of the current details.”

Standoff.

The situation seemed more serious than anticipated.

…

“Leon Rothe Dale? Her Highness Anais has written to you. If you’d like to read it yourself… nevermind. I’ll read it for you. The Honored one wishes to express her apology to you, so do listen attentively.”

When the supervisor first began this absurd tale, Leon couldn’t care less.

He was aware of who Anais was.

She was his senior from the academy—if one could clearly define their standings. She simply always insisted on being called a senior, likely trying to force the hierarchy.

While Leon was indifferent to the supervisor reading the letter, he remained preoccupied with when to take his medication for the day.

However, one phrase rang especially clear.

“…Alan Medoff is apparently developing a drug ten times more potent than morphine and ephedrine. A drug so strong that it could drive a person insane or even kill them. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure my senior doesn’t come into contact with it. It’s truly regrettable I gained mercy over you becoming an addict. If nothing else, I must at least prevent you from using a drug ten times as toxic.”

A drug ten times as potent. An irresistibly fantastic prospect.

But Leon wasn’t pleased.

Anais was threatening to block it using her royal authority. What a cruel thing to do.

“Evil witch. Why do you hate me!”

In a rage, Leon shot up from his seat.

He couldn’t bear it.

Looking around, the iron bars between him and the supervisor had somehow shattered, and a sword was in his hand—though he couldn’t remember from whom he had taken it.

…

“Leon Rothe Dale. Drop your weapon!”

It was the same thing he had been hearing for hours.

The officers acting as supervisors gripped the hilts of their weapons nervously.

Leon merely laughed it off. The bulongyi he had consumed just two hours prior was still taking its effect; how could they intimidate him with mere blades and guns?

And yet, Leon did possess a weapon.

They had many methods of restraint, of course.

However, they were holding back for now. Violence was wrong after all.

“Ah.”

Leon understood better: the reason bulongyi always needed monglongyi was that monglongyi grounded bulongyi’s frenzied tendencies. It was also thanks to that balance that Leon hadn’t yet lashed out at the aggressive behavior of the officers.

Indeed, bulongyi. Truly, monglongyi.

Not to mention, a drug ten times more potent…

“This is unbearable.”

Resentment for Anais’ interference swelled within him. With a sigh, Leon took a step forward.

“Leon! It’s your misunderstanding. The content was about the drug being ten times more toxic, not more pleasurable.”

“More potent means greater efficacy too, right? And Anais is going to selfishly block it! Haven’t I worked hard though? Been obedient, killed demons, even those preparing rituals to summon demons? So, could someone please convey to Anais, senior or junior, to stop blocking this…”

“Don’t advance further. That’s your last warning!”

“Warning? Why?”

Leon didn’t understand.

Why were the officers trembling while gripping their weapons? Why were they retreating in terror, staring at him with frightened eyes? Above all, why did they dare belittle a hard worker like him, denying him access to superior drugs?

Leon merely wanted to ask politely. To persuade them to dissuade Anais from her misguided intentions.

It was so unfair they refused to understand.

“Stop coming closer! This is your final warning!”

One officer finally drew his sword.

So they refuse to listen.

Leon resolved to subdue them, carefully avoiding any accusations of insubordination.

“It’s just a request, after all.”

In the next instant, a blinding light illuminated before the officers’ eyes…

…

Leon had only intended to neutralize the situation.

“Huh?”

The supervisors were the ones who provided him with medication, not those who took it away. Unlike the previous representatives from Medoff Pharmaceuticals who had been strict, these officers were generous, doling out three and four pills at a time as long as Leon behaved.

Why kill such kind people?

Except, Leon hadn’t successfully controlled his strength.

“Captain? Major?”

When called out softly, the supervisors, already in no condition to respond, lay scattered and unrecognizable across the floor. Even if all three existing saintesses were to arrive, reviving them would be impossible—they were undeniably dead.

Leon understood.

He had killed, inadvertently—four officers in total. Two were experts, but even then, they couldn’t survive a master swordsman’s killing strike. Leon pitied and regretted the sorry state they had ended up in.

“Really, I only wanted them to drop their swords…”

It wasn’t his first kill, though.

The only humans Leon had killed thus far were demon worshippers. Volunteering their bodies as vessels for demons’ manifestations. Killing them allowed him to receive more bulongyi and monglongyi, making it doubly beneficial.

But the officers? They were good people.

And they were dead, nonetheless—an unintentional accident, albeit still a grave wrong.

“Captain, this isn’t what I intended. It’s because Princess Anais planned to prevent Mr. Pharmacist from giving me any drugs. I was simply asking them to stop her. Major here thought I was being insubordinate, drew his sword, and then…”

Leon muttered, explaining himself.

But there was no one left to listen.

Everyone who might have listened now lay dead. The approaching soldiers from outside seemed unlikely to be interested in his explanation, being unfamiliar with him.

What to do then?

Feeling aggrieved, helpless, angry, deprived, and tinged with guilt, Leon was distraught.

In times like these, it boiled down to drugs.

Leon consumed one monglongyi and one bulongyi he retrieved from the supervisor’s corpse.

The effects were disappointingly minimal.

He was aware it didn’t take effect immediately, understood there was still 24 or 25 minutes to wait, yet it all seemed futile now that he knew better drugs existed, that Anais was trying to keep them from him.

He must clarify this. And procure superior medication.

A good idea emerged in Leon Rothe Dale’s mind.

“Confront her personally!”

He must ask Anais to reconsider and negotiate with Mr. Alan for the drug.

Which meant heading as quickly as possible back to The State.

After ingesting an additional bulongyi, Leon Rothe Dale promptly set into action.

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