en English
en Englishid Indonesian

The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra – Chapter 156 Bahasa Indonesia

Albion’s Pastoral House (8)

“But Kleio, anonymous tips are often ignored. However, named sources will surely be pursued by the crown prince later, so you need a proper route.”

“Right.”

“Now, it’s your turn to applaud me. I know people in both companies that will put the documents in the middle of the editor’s desk so they can’t be overlooked.”

“Who?”

“Some of my colleagues in the Violet Club work there.”

Kleio glanced at her, unsure about Cel’s idea.

“The person we’re going against is Melchior. Your colleagues could suffer retaliation. Isn’t it too dangerous?”

“There’s a limit to the prince’s skill. Even if he looks into the heads of all the people working on Swift Street, my colleagues would be the last ones he’d suspect. One’s a social media reporter, and the other is a fashion column contributor.”

Cel was aware of Melchior’s skills. Before attending this year’s royal New Year’s ball, Kleio had explained it to all of them. Kleio judged that everyone would have some degree of participation in the resistance as their ether level had risen.

“That… Does something like that matter?”

“You, don’t you know that the editors of Swift Street are all the same?”

Swift Street was a media center located at the northern end of the Sovereign district.

“You think a young woman journalist who wears the latest fashions and writes of Krater’s jewelry or Yvette Dupard’s dress gains attention? The editor ignores our colleagues like that, so if she puts a picture under his tray when she’s running tea errands, no one will know who the informant is!”

Despite Cel’s persuasive explanation, Kleio still couldn’t easily accept it.

‘The Violet Club didn’t have that much of an impact in the last manuscript. Could it be that they won’t grab Melchior’s attention immediately…’

Melchior didn’t care about ordinary people’s lives. Would the noble have a blind spot for them? It was a shallow conviction that was little more than speculation.

Kleio nodded with some difficulty. It was a tough decision between saving Arthur and risking the organization Cel belonged to.

In the end, he chose to be involved in the security of this world. It may be a terrible excuse, but if Arthur survived, progress was possible. Ensuring this world continued was Kleio’s most important duty.

“I’m repeating myself, but you have to be really careful. How will you contact your colleagues?”

“Look, today is Wednesday, so there is a group of people working on Swift Street going out for lunch tomorrow. I know which tearoom they meet in, and it isn’t far from here.”

“It sounds nice at a glance. If it’s okay, ask them if they’ll report it.”

“You don’t have to ask. They’ll be happy with this.”

“…Do the members of the club have the same goals as you?”

“Right! They’re my comrades. Let’s prepare the documents right away so they can be handed over tomorrow. I can’t show the letter as it is, so why don’t we edit the content to make it difficult to recognize the sender?”

“Right. I prepared some pens and ink, along with a copier, envelopes, and stationery. If you need something more, I can head out….”

“Alright, sit down. First of all, we’re a junior clerk and a maid meeting for the first time after a long-distance relationship. It’s not long since I arrived, so it’d be strange to go out again.”

“Yes… are we sticking with that cover?”

“We should. You’re my escort. My ether is all tied up, and this collar shines even through the clothing. Your help is essential.”

Cel pointed at the collar of her maid’s uniform. Her attitude had been so casual that he had forgotten. Kleio let out a sigh at his own stupidity.

“If it’s okay, may I take a look? I might be able to solve it if the dean didn’t make it, but if it’s a ready-made product that was released recently….”

Previously, only advanced wizards could make a suppression collar, but now such items could be made since discovering the magic activation formula for tiplaum.

“Ah! This, it’s ready-made! Hurray!”

Cel boldly revealed the device as her hands quickly pushed aside the maid’s collar. Kleio bowed his back and examined the suppression collar, quickly finding the source of the magic.

“So it is.”

“Good!”

Ready-made tiplaum products, whether molded or engraved by a craftsman, were less durable than products developed by a high-level wizard with ether. Not only did it lack the power of the original product made by Zebedee, but the engraved magic was often incomplete, so if the ether were concentrated on the distorted part after applying alcohol, it could be forced to malfunction. He had learned of such a method of dealing with the ready-made suppression tools with Behemoth. It was delicate work that required complete memorization of the magic formula, so it wasn’t possible without Promise. However, with Promise, he had the experience of disassembling six collars as practice.

‘I was prepared for this, but to think it would be needed like this.’

“Then, wait a moment. To turn this off, I need alcohol as a catalyst. I’ll buy some downstairs.”

“It’s good that the catalyst is easy to find, but the owner of the inn here would be convinced that we’re having a good time.”

Kleio stiffened, practically turning to stone, as he heard the creepy statement. His head creaked like an under-oiled machine as he regarded Cel with a tired face.

“Do you want to joke like that even in this situation?”

“If you don’t joke, how do you relieve this dirty feeling?! Anyway, only gin and ale are sold in places like this, so don’t just buy enough for this, but ask for a good drink, darling!”

Kleio quickly left the room, trying not to look at Cel, whose silver eyes glittered with anger despite her witty voice.

.

.

.

The two stayed up almost all night. Of course, the cat slept well enough, as it had been working hard these days.

The table in the room was cluttered with empty glasses, sandwich crumbs, and office supplies. Among them was the document the two had prepared overnight. It excluded all contents of Hydra’s poison and was carefully stripped of an identifier to its author. The contents of the letter were written in a similar style as Baronet Asel’s informant, Sylas Merchant, to help further obscure Fran’s name.

It stated that the Brunnen knights assaulted the military camp guarded by the sincere border lord, inflicting severe injuries on the knights while yelling for a noble’s treatment. It was a clear border violation and military provocation.

‘When this matter is released to the public, both Brunnen and Albion will need to make a clarifying statement. It’s not enough to start a war, but if their relations deteriorate, it might not be far off.’

Kleio was also able to create a copy of Fran’s photographs, creating a document that could incite anyone.

‘If it were only a report document, it might be ignored, or they may spend time cross-verifying it, but with such a clear picture, there can be no doubt.’

The original documents and photos were tucked safely back into Kleio’s bag.

“Done. This is perfect. Thinking about saving that copier, what a wonderful idea.”

“I used it before, but I’m glad I didn’t get rid of it. Rather, where did you learn how to write with both hands?”

“I’m originally left-handed, but my mother corrected me to be right-handed. Normally, I use my right hand, but I can use my left when writing documents like this.”

“…Sometimes, your mother appears to be of tremendous help, and other times, not at all.”

“Shall I say she was helpful today?”

Tired of the suppression collar, Cel watched the snoring cat for a while before she nodded up. Kleio couldn’t sleep properly at all, afraid that Arthur might be hurt. It was well past dawn when Cel got up and washed her face in cold water before reshaping her wig. Her skill was good, and soon it looked like real hair. She put her uniform back together, and Kleio had healed her overnight, so she applied more makeup to her pale red cheeks. In the meantime, Kleio roughly brushed his hair and put his tie back on.

“The morning is gone, and the evening is already approaching. Are you trying to head out?”

“Yes. It would be most effective to publish this article tomorrow morning. Even if the king’s deputy orders a stop to the publication overnight, suspicion will grow even more.”

Cel had an odd expression of appreciation as she listened to Kleio’s exhausted voice. He was thin, even more so than when he had seemed a little boy, but he was calm even in a crisis.

“How did Arthur find a guy like you? The more I consider it, the more amazing it is. Anyway, you’re meeting the prince today.”

“Right.”

“But you want to go with that hair? It’s obviously a hasty job made for a secret escape.”

“…It looks like that because you know what’s happening.”

“Hey, could you fool that viperish prince’s eyes? Sit down here. I’ll give it a rough trim and even it out.”

Cel picked up the office scissors from the table and brandished them threateningly.

“Meoow! (Yeah, trim it!).”

With Behemoth against him, Kleio had no other option but to allow them to trim his hair. Cel boasted considerable skill even with such small tools.

.

.

.

After giving a note to Behemoth, he told him the location of the tearoom so he could go there in advance.

“Miss Harris is a cat lover, so if such a handsome cat knocks on the door, she will bring him in and feed him anything.”

Cel had assured them. Now, two envelopes waited in the basket Cel brought instead of a cat. The two met each other’s eyes as they stood before the room door.

“Later, then.”

“Yes.”

As soon as they stepped into the hallway, Cel’s normal appearance was nowhere to be seen. She stayed a step behind him, walking with a shorter stride, with her hands clasped tightly together. The two left the inn and headed for the tearoom, mixing with the workers heading off to their jobs.

At the far end of Swift Street were Miss Harris’s tearooms. Miss Harris was already at work, as Cel expected. She examined Cel’s face through the glass frame of the store’s door before quietly releasing the clasp even before opening hours. Inside, Behemoth was lapping at milk, his mind overwhelmed by food so that he could only glance at Kleio.

“Thank you, Miss Harris.”

“No, Cel, you can come anytime. I saw the note this clever cat brought me. Is this kid your friend?”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yes, no need to make a fuss. Any friend of Cel is a friend of mine. Head up to the second floor.”

“Thank you.”

After Miss Harris disappeared into the kitchen, Kleio turned to Cel with a whisper.

“She’s not surprised to see you.”

“She’s used to me changing clothes in the backroom here.”

‘…It feels like I’m learning the secrets of some social affairs I shouldn’t have seen.’

The store filled with the smell of cookies as Miss Harris started baking in the back. A pamphlet of the Violet Club was placed in the tearoom, the walls decorated with green plant patterned wallpaper.

Kleio looked at the menu. The tea was affordable, and all desserts seemed to be made by Miss Harris. Cel grabbed Kleio as he looked around the strange but cozy space, opening a hidden side door.

“Here, change into proper clothes and come out.”

.

.

.

The frock coat and pants were subtly short in length. Cel, still clad in the maid’s uniform, laughed at him.

“I want to make a phone call from a place that won’t be tracked; the Rayton Hotel is the right place, but the entrance is restricted, so I have to wear this.”

Kleio defended himself in a cheeky tone.

“Okay. I think you can trick the doorman’s eyes. That way, you’ll make an appointment to meet with the prince in question. How are you going to tell me the news?”

The key to this operation was to get the attention of low-ranking newspapers on Melchior while Kleio was preparing more evidence. If that didn’t work, their efforts would be in vain. Melchior’s intervention had to be prevented.

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Chapter List