Otaku Translation: I! Anomaly Cleansing Agent! C69

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"No, it’s something else…" Isha hesitated, recalling the scene she’d witnessed earlier today and the results of her inquiry into someone named Leon Lion. Pulling away slightly, she looked up at her mother, her expression conflicted. "Mom, three months ago—did Dad… did the military cut off pensions for many war widows early?"

Her mother paused, thinking back. With a sigh, she nodded. "Yes, there was such a decision. You know how strained things have been lately—the kingdom’s finances can barely keep up with the military’s expenses. This year, their budget was slashed by a third. Your father comes home every night sighing over it all. Why do you ask, Isha?"

"It just feels so unfair," Isha murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. Images of the desperate family she'd read about in the files flooded her mind—a family of four nearly driven to ruin. Her tone grew sharper as she continued. "The military has forty-seven departments, each costing a fortune. There are plenty of areas where they could trim spending. So why target the pensions? Do you know who relies on those payments? Many are survivors of the Great Patriotic War six years ago—widows, orphans whose parents died fighting for our country! Some don’t even have the means to support themselves—they depend entirely on those meager funds. Cutting them off isn’t just cruel; it’s like signing their death warrants!"

"Isha?" The warmth in her mother’s voice faltered, replaced by a stern edge. Her brows furrowed as she demanded, "Who put these ideas into your head?"

"No one told me anything. These are my own thoughts."

"But you’ve never thought this way before. You used to—"

"People change."

Her mother sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. After a moment, she spoke again, her tone softer but firm. "I don’t care where you heard this, but please, only talk about it with me. Don’t say any of this to your father."

"Why not?" Isha shot back, frustration evident in her eyes. "Even if he didn’t propose it, he must have at least approved such an absurd decision. If he’s responsible, then—"

"Isha!" The sharpness in her mother’s voice silenced her. "You’re old enough to understand. Your father is under immense pressure this year. Don’t add to his burdens with your complaints."

"And what about when he adds to mine?" Isha retorted bitterly. She thought of the man she’d met earlier today—a gaunt figure wearing a threadbare coat, savoring pudding spilled onto a table with quiet joy. "Mom, today I met someone. His parents died in the war six years ago, but the military only paid out a third of his promised pension. By thirteen or fourteen, he was working to feed his siblings—hauling bags under the summer sun, scrubbing cargo ships in icy dock waters. Doesn’t that sound bad enough? But now, after Dad signed off on more cuts, the rest of his pension stopped too. He has two younger siblings, both barely six or seven. His sick sister stopped taking medication to save money and nearly died in the hospital."

The older woman sighed heavily, guilt etched across her face. She knew the state of affairs within the military all too well. "Your father… he truly had no choice, Isha. What about that family now? I have some savings—I could help—"

"It’s fine. They shouldn’t need it anymore," Isha interrupted, turning her head away. Her voice dropped, heavy with complexity. "He joined the rebels. Now he’s working as a mole inside the Police Department. This morning, he disrupted one of our operations and helped a wanted insurgent escape—a man involved in the assassination attempt on the princess."

Silence hung thick between them.

"So it’s not me causing trouble for him—it’s him causing trouble for me, right?" Isha’s words dripped with bitterness. She sank back onto the couch, glaring toward the door. "Can I ask now? How could he sign off on something so heartless?"

Her mother stared at her, torn between exasperation and sorrow. Despite holding a plush toy, Isha seemed poised like a hedgehog, ready to lash out. Softly, her mother pleaded, "Isha, please listen. Just—"

"Don’t try to stop me," Isha snapped, turning away stubbornly. "He taught me that we should face the consequences of our actions. Isn’t that what he always said?"

"Yes, but he also taught you that some responsibilities outweigh everything else." Her mother placed a hand on Isha’s back, her gaze dimming. "Think about it—I’m not excusing him, but remember, the sacrifices made during the war weren’t just from other families. Your brother and two uncles died six years ago. Even the pension cuts started with us first."

She held up a hand to silence Isha’s protest. "I know we don’t rely on pensions to survive. I’m saying this because I don’t want you to think poorly of your father. To hold this crumbling system together, he’s doing everything he can."

Her eyes glistened as she glanced upstairs, remembering her eldest son lost in the war. "At the start of this year, the previous head of the military was executed for going too far, leaving behind countless problems. Then came the massive budget cuts. Everyone knew the situation was impossible to fix. No one wanted to take on that poisoned chalice except your father. He stepped forward despite knowing the risks."

Her voice quivered as she squeezed Isha’s hand. "The war six years ago broke your father’s heart, and the current state of the military is unbearable. If left unchecked or handed to an incompetent successor, history will repeat itself. He simply cannot walk away. Yes, cutting pensions was harsh, but look at him—he’s aged ten years in less than a year. Half his hair has turned gray trying to keep the military afloat."

"But couldn’t he—"

"Isha, your father has done everything he possibly could." Her mother cut her off, exhaling deeply. "I’ve watched him struggle this entire year. Every possible solution was attempted, but nothing worked. Only then did he reluctantly agree to reduce certain expenditures. And even then, he ordered welfare officers to visit recipients multiple times within two months to ensure they could manage without the pension before stopping payments."

Her voice softened further, tinged with sadness. "But he’s only human. He can’t oversee everything. Despite his best efforts, mistakes happen. Please, Isha, for my sake, go to your room. Don’t make him worry anymore, okay?"

"..."

"Okay?"

"...Fine."

Though stubborn, Isha relented under her mother’s gentle plea. Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be led back to her room. Once alone, she collapsed onto her bed, clutching the stuffed toy. Exhausted, she stared blankly at the ceiling light.

My father, struggling to hold the military together, isn’t wrong…

Me, pursuing insurgents who threaten public safety, isn’t wrong…

Him, forced into rebellion because of injustice, isn’t wrong either…

Then who exactly is to blame?

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