Otaku Translation: I! Anomaly Cleansing Agent! C89

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As the policewoman trembled slightly, visibly shaken by the story of the female prisoner’s husband—a tale both tragic and absurd—the black goat residing in Leon's mind couldn’t help but burst into raucous laughter. Its voice echoed inside his skull like a cackling crow perched on a stormy branch.

So he went through all this trouble, running around like a headless chicken, and in the end… nothing changed! That poor cripple’s death was just about the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. What an idiot—ouch! Why are you kicking me?

Leon pressed his foot down harder on the invisible goat’s head, ensuring it wouldn’t squirm again. With a small sigh of relief, he muttered under his breath, Keep an eye on that bandage. There’s something off about it.

Hmm? You think it’s another anomaly?

Through the lens of soul vision, the black goat scrutinized the strip of cloth wrapped tightly around the woman’s wrist. A strange sensation prickled at its senses. It tilted its ethereal head, curiosity gleaming in its glowing eyes.

“Well, would you look at that—it does have a vibe to it. So how did she manage to get caught with one of those things? Anyone wielding an anomaly usually has enough tricks up their sleeve to evade regular humans.

She… probably let herself be caught, Leon murmured thoughtfully.

He reached for the badge pinned to his chest—the insignia of the Virgo Cleansing Bureau, shaped like a dung beetle. No heat radiated from it, no warning hum. The badge only reacted when faced with rogue Contaminated Individuals who hadn’t mastered their powers. If it remained silent now, it meant the woman before them had full control over whatever power her bandage held.

Though Leon didn’t know exactly what the bandage could do, judging by the fate of its previous owner, it was unlikely to possess any benevolent abilities. And considering their destination—the Lion family estate—it wasn’t hard to guess her intentions.

She likely intended to infiltrate the Lion family, using the cursed object to exact revenge for her husband’s death.

With the black goat’s soul vision, Leon examined the swirling crimson flames hidden beneath the calm exterior of her soul. Her spirit churned with violent energy, confirming his suspicions. He exhaled deeply, weighing his options.

So… should I intervene?

---

While Leon hesitated, torn between stopping the “dangerous individual” or simply ignoring her—or perhaps even fanning the flames further—the policewoman finally broke her long silence.

“You’re not just some ordinary rebel, are you…” she said softly, her gaze piercing as she studied the other woman.

The prisoner’s pupils contracted sharply, but the policewoman continued, her tone layered with complexity.

“I’ve arrested and interrogated countless rebels. Most of them come from the lowest rungs of society—the dregs of the capital. Their education is spotty at best, and their experiences leave them rough around the edges. When they speak, their words tend to be blunt, raw expressions of emotion. They revel in triumph, hurl insults, or rail against their misfortunes. Even when we break them during interrogation, their stories often lack coherence, filled with tangled logic and fractured sentences.”

Her voice softened, almost contemplative. “But you’re different. Despite having no time to prepare, your account was smooth, clear, and detailed. Aside from a few brief pauses to recall specific moments, there was no hesitation in your words. That’s not something an ordinary person can do.”

“My husband—”

“No,” the policewoman interrupted gently, shaking her head. “I’m not talking about the honorable gentleman you mentioned earlier. I’m referring to you.”

After a moment’s reflection, she bit her lip, her expression darkening further. “There’s more. Whenever you attempted to use complex or obscure vocabulary just now, the words flowed effortlessly from your lips without hesitation. You seemed practiced, as though manipulating conversations like this is second nature to you. Clearly, you’ve received excellent education and are accustomed to addressing large audiences.”

She paused, then added pointedly, “Not to mention your familiarity with the inner workings of the military—the changes in high-ranking officials, the delineation of departmental responsibilities… You’re part of the rebellion’s upper echelon, aren’t you?”

“… It seems like I’ve underestimated you.”

The prisoner rubbed the bandage on her wrist absently before nodding, acknowledging the truth in the officer’s deduction. Her tone carried a hint of surprise. “I assumed you were just another naive young lady, easily swayed by ideals like my late husband. I never expected you to see through me so clearly.”

“It wasn’t that you’ve underestimated me,” the policewoman replied quietly. Her fingers tightened on her own arms until her knuckles turned white. “Until recently, I believed that doing what I thought was right was enough. But after meeting someone else—a rebel whose file I reviewed—I began to realize…”

Her voice trailed off, drowned out by the noisy hum of the boiler behind them. The prisoner frowned, leaning forward slightly. “What did you say?”

“Nothing…” The policewoman shook her head firmly, regaining her composure. She clenched her fists, resolve hardening her features. “What I mean is, while I may lack experience and sometimes act foolishly, I take my duties seriously. Whether it’s the Lion case or the circumstances surrounding your husband’s arrest—if the investigation proves wrongdoing, I will ensure justice is served.”

“By the time the investigation concludes, you’ll already have been transferred elsewhere.”

The prisoner sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. Exposing her true identity had ruined her plans, but she seemed unfazed. “Miss Isha, you really are adorable… naively so. Brave souls willing to challenge nobles exist in abundance, but not everyone shares your privileged background. Go ahead and investigate if you wish—but remember, without your surname shielding you, your fate might have been far worse than my husband’s.”

She glanced at the policewoman, whose expression had dimmed noticeably, and snorted derisively. “And even if you succeed, don’t expect my opinion to change. Your success won’t be yours alone; it’ll merely reflect your father’s status. My husband and I didn’t seek pity disguised as salvation from above. What we wanted—and still want—is simple retribution. Blood for blood.”

“…”

Perhaps you’re right… but…

The policewoman bit her lip, her thoughts drifting to the image of her father burdened by the weight of the military’s failures. His once-straight back had begun to stoop, and streaks of gray now marred his once-dark hair.

Father… I think I understand you a little better now…

Gripping her fists tightly, she took a deep breath and met the prisoner’s cold stare for the first time. Though her voice was barely audible, it carried an unwavering determination.

“It might seem meaningless, but as long as someone keeps trying, it’s always better than giving up completely.”

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