Otaku Translation: I! Anomaly Cleansing Agent! C47

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Muttering vaguely to herself, her gaze tinged with loneliness, she let the smile slip from her face. She tilted her head back and drained the glass of water in one gulp. Then, like someone overcome by intoxication, she slumped forward onto her desk, unmoving. Soon, soft, steady snores filled the office.

And as those snores spread, tiny creatures hidden throughout the six floors of the building—from the second floor all the way to the topmost level, where every window and vent had been sealed to block out light—began to emit faint, barely audible snores in unison.

…

"Something like THIS is actually happening?!"

After finishing the records detailing Char Waterworks Company’s illegal operations, the editor-in-chief of The Daily Digest’s social affairs section furrowed his brow in anger. With restrained frustration, he lightly pounded the restaurant table before whispering fervently:

"They’re contaminating the public water supply… These bastards only think about money! I absolutely must expose this scandal!"

"Mm…"

Leon, his fingers lightly resting on the sheep’s head artifact, looked at the editor-in-chief’s furious face. A flicker of deep disappointment crossed his own, quickly masked by a stoic expression. He nodded silently, stood up, and began gathering the documents scattered across the table.

"Since you’ve agreed, we’ll leave it at that for today. I hope you follow through on your promise when you return."

"I will! You can count on me!"

Grabbing Leon’s wrist, the editor-in-chief rose to his feet, his eyes brimming with enthusiasm.

"Leave it all to me! Once I get back, I’ll write an exposé that ensures those bastards face justice! But…" He hesitated, glancing at the materials. "These documents feel a bit thin. At best, they might force Char Department Store to pay compensation, but the real culprits could still wriggle free. Do you have anything else that directly implicates those three families?"

"Not at the moment."

Leon’s gaze hardened as he studied the man’s soul—no trace of genuine anger, only panic, schemes, and malice. A wave of disgust flashed briefly in his eyes.

Suppressing the urge to punch the man in the face, Leon, still disguised, brushed off the editor-in-chief’s hand. Without expression, he carefully returned the documents to their folder and stood up.

"Mr. Editor, since you believe the evidence is insufficient, I’ll take these back to organize further. Once I gather enough proof, I’ll contact you again."

"What? No need, no need!"

Seeing Leon preparing to leave, the editor-in-chief grew visibly anxious. He hurriedly grabbed Leon’s arm, pleading earnestly:

"The victims are waiting for compensation! Though incomplete, these materials should be enough to raise awareness. Why don’t you leave them with me? I’ll rush out an article immediately!"

"No need."

"Why not?" The editor-in-chief snapped, losing patience.

Leon finally yanked his arm free, his voice icy.

"Because if I give these to you, there’s no chance this story will ever see the light of day."

"…"

Hmph… So he’s figured it out. Looks like this kid isn’t as dumb as he seems.

The editor-in-chief’s eyebrows twitched slightly as he met Leon’s frigid gaze. He knew his intentions had been exposed, and there was no way Leon would hand over the documents now.

With disdain, the editor-in-chief gave Leon another once-over—his gaunt frame, tattered coat, and black veil obscuring most of his face. Just moments ago, he’d praised Leon effusively, but now his lips curled downward in contempt. Without another word, he sank back into his chair and called out:

"Waiter!"

Waving over a nearby server who’d been discreetly observing, the editor-in-chief pointed at Leon with an air of casual authority.

"Close the door and call two security guards. This man just stole something from me. That thing in his arms is mine."

"Yes, sir! Close the door outside!"

The waiter glanced at the impeccably dressed editor-in-chief—his high-end Frock suit, silk pocket square, hat, tie, watch, cane, and polished calf-skin boots. Then he looked at Leon, clad in an ill-fitting, threadbare coat, his face obscured by a black scarf.

It took less than a second for the waiter to decide what to do.

Even though the two had entered the restaurant together, even though they’d sat across from each other without physical contact, and even though the item in question had clearly been in Leon’s possession from the start—it didn’t matter.

The customer was always right, and it was obvious which of the two wasn’t a patron of the establishment.

"…"

Leon frowned as four security guards blocked the booth exit, summoned by the waiter. He turned to glare coldly at the editor-in-chief, who was leisurely adjusting his tie.

"You’re resorting to force?"

"Not force," the editor-in-chief replied smoothly, leaning on his cane. "I’m saving your life—and sparing the poor soul you’d eventually choose next."

Having smoothed out the creases in his tie, the editor-in-chief stood and sauntered over, his movements deliberate.

"Though you keep your face hidden, judging by your voice and demeanor, you’re quite young, aren’t you? Your sense of justice is admirable, but you clearly don’t understand how society works."

He raised his slender cane, wiping off some mud from its tip against Leon’s trousers, then smiled thinly.

"Our nation functions like a body. The royal family is the heart, the nobility the organs, the parliament the brain, the factories the strongest muscles, and merchants the bones that continuously produce blood. As for the rest… they’re nothing more than skin that sheds and regenerates, or hair that grows and falls in endless cycles."

Leaning closer to Leon, his smile faltered, replaced by a look of disdain. Lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear, he whispered:

"Tell me, when a strand of hair takes issue with an organ, should the tongue—that’s me—shout it out loud, stirring up foolish hairs and skins into pointless chaos? Or should I act smarter, silencing that troublesome strand and teaching it to close its damn mouth?"

His words hung heavy in the air, dripping with condescension and menace.

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