Otaku Translation: I! Anomaly Cleansing Agent! C107

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Chapter 107: A Person of Sufficient Weight

Critic’s Paper: Lion Blood Night: Over a Hundred Officials from Nine Departments Dead or Wounded.

New Industry Journal: Massacre of Lion Family's Middle Management; Arms Company May Cease Operations.

Royal Mail: In Deep Mourning for the Fallen Members of the Lion Family.

Corner Lane Gazette: Has the Lion Heart Fallen? The Kingdom’s Two Pillars May Be Stepping Out of History.

The Sun: Shocking. Last Night, the Lion Family Was Massacred—And the Killer Is…

“…”

A simple investigative mission almost wiped out an entire clan? Is this how you put my mind at ease?

After flipping through the front-page headlines of over a dozen newspapers, the red-haired chief felt her blood pressure spike. Her head swam as she leaned back in her chair.

It was nearly the end of the year—the time for annual performance reviews.

A mass casualty event like this, especially involving nobility, would send Virgo Bureau's modestly improved performance metrics plummeting straight to last place.

But compared to the nosedive in performance stats, there seemed to be even worse news on the horizon…

Looking at the front page of The Sun, where a photo showed Leon lying in a pool of blood yet still reaching toward Bobby Lion’s corpse, with bold letters identifying him as the murderer, the chief sighed deeply and rubbed her temples. She felt as if her headache had doubled in size.

Though it was only The Sun, not Capital Times or Royal Mail, how did a routine investigation land one of his own in death row?

---

“What? The Lion family is gone? And it was… that rebel scum who did it?”

“Sit down, sit down.”

Seeing the female officer spring up from her seat upon hearing the news, the scar-faced giant frowned and gestured for her to calm herself.

“The Lion family isn’t gone, but they lost nearly two hundred key members and some high-ranking relatives in one night. The old duke has been struck ill by the shock, and it looks like collapse is imminent. As for the culprit…” he paused thoughtfully, “it’s not necessarily that rebel. Something about this whole situation with the Lions smells fishy.”

Taking a long drag from the cigarette dangling from his lips, the scar-faced man continued:

“While it’s true that rebel appeared on the scene and killed the first-in-line heir, Bobby Lion, there’s no evidence of any other intruders in the estate. One man alone couldn’t possibly have wiped out all those middle-tier members of the Lion family in a single night.”

“Moreover, according to the old duke’s testimony, he was woken in the middle of the night by a maid holding scissors to his throat, forcing him to abdicate in favor of his younger brother, Bobby Lion. If you ask me, what happened last night looks more like an internal power struggle than an external attack.”

“I see.” The female police officer let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her eyes darted around uncertainly before she asked, “If it was an internal conflict, why lock up that rebel instead of investigating further to find the real killer?”

“Isha,” the scar-faced man tapped his temple with his index finger, “you need to learn to think more critically.”

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he explained calmly:

“Whether or not that rebel named Leon is guilty doesn’t depend on what he actually did. It depends on which narrative fits better: ‘Rebel Attacks Noble House’ or ‘Noble House Engages in Internal Strife.’”

“I don’t understand…”

“In simpler terms, truth doesn’t matter. Benefits and positions do.”

Stubbing out his cigarette on the glass tabletop, he pointed a nicotine-stained finger at the stack of newspapers.

“Notice anything? Aside from The Sun, which is just having fun with sensationalism, none of these papers take a definitive stance. They either mourn the dead, describe the situation, or focus on its impact—but none declare whether it was internal strife or an external attack. These outlets aren’t avoiding the story because they’re waiting for our investigation. No—they’ve been advised by their backers not to pick sides until the winds shift.”

“Winds?”

“The prevailing attitudes of three major forces: the old nobility represented by the Lions, the reformists led by the princess, and the loose coalition of new nobles, big merchants, members of parliament, and the prime minister. These are the true power brokers in the kingdom. Whatever consensus they reach after their tug-of-war will determine the official narrative.”

Having clarified the concept of "winds," the scar-faced man lit another cigarette and spoke lazily:

“The reformists, led by the princess, want this incident framed as noble infighting. That gives them an excuse to cut down the old guard and relieve pressure on the defense minister. Meanwhile, the merchant-backed coalition prefers labeling it a rebel attack. Rebels causing chaos disrupts business, affecting merchants, then members of parliament reliant on their support, and finally the prime minister who needs their votes. So if it’s ruled a rebel attack, they can push the other factions to prioritize dealing with the rebels to stabilize the environment.”

Isha furrowed her brow, trying to process everything. After a moment, she ventured:

“And the old nobility? What do they think?”

“They don’t care.”

At this, the scar-faced man smirked, revealing a sardonic grin.

“Whether it’s infighting or a rebel attack, it’s equally humiliating for them. An ‘internal conflict’ gives the princess ammunition to dismantle them, while an ‘attack’ exposes their inability to handle rebels, costing them political ground to the members of parliament. Either way, the Lions are already the biggest losers here.”

“…”

Who cares about winners or losers?

Despite listening intently, Isha still didn’t know what fate awaited Leon. But asking directly felt too forward, so she clenched her fists nervously before tentatively probing:

“So, Chief, how do you think this will play out? What’s going to happen to that rebel?”

“That’s not up to me.”

The scar-faced man glanced at the crumpled edge of Isha’s uniform, then turned back to the window, puffing on his cigarette nonchalantly.

“It depends mostly on the princess. The members of parliament and merchants carry weight, but their coalition is too fragmented. If the reformists led by the princess hold firm, the others will eventually back down. So the real question is whether someone influential within the princess’s camp steps forward to solidify her resolve to take action against the old nobility.”

Someone influential… I see.

Moments later, when the scar-faced man extinguished his cigarette and turned around, Isha was already gone.

But her abrupt departure didn’t seem to bother him. With slow, deliberate steps, he returned to his desk and unfolded a map of the capital.

“Let’s see… Next month’s plan is to blow up the theater in the southeast district. To keep things under wraps, I should start by deploying defenses to the west—a little distraction never hurts…”

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