Chapter 27
The Demon Hunting Method of the Regressed Inquisitor
The Demon Hunting Method Of The Regressed Inquisitor 27
Pinocchio (1)
She felt nothing.
She suspected nothing.
It was only later that Linnea was shocked to realize the boy was not human.
Dangerous. She had already guessed who he was and spoken it aloud.
Even if she was wrong, he was not an ordinary person.
How he would react was unknown.
Linnea slowly distanced herself from the boy who was staring at her with a blank expression.
And then.
âHello? Sister.â
âHuhâ¦?â
A drawn expression appeared on the boyâs previously blank face.
An innocent boyâs face.
In that gap, Linnea couldnât help but feel momentarily bewildered.
The sense of alienation she had felt disappeared. The fear also lessened.
Could it be her imagination? Had she mistaken an ordinary boy for a machine because of stress?
Such countless doubts began to float in her mind.
Even now, she could hear a sound like gears meshing, a sound that could not come from a human, coming from the boy.
Linea heightened her vigilance to the maximum.
It was strange. This was not a situation where she could afford to let her guard down.
The other person made it so.
Then how?
âLike a real personâ¦â
A figure that perfectly matched the image that came to mind when thinking of a boy of that age.
As if countless samples had been gathered and woven together to create this form.
Why go to such lengths?
âDo you know what this big building is for?â
âItâs a mansion. A place where people live.â
Linea answered honestly.
However, she did not say who lived there. If the boyâs purpose was Geppettoâs life, it could be dangerous.
She only spoke of things that wouldnât matter if said.
âAnd this wall?â
âThe wall⦠is a wall, right?â
What other explanation was needed? It didnât seem like he didnât know what a wall was.
âTo keep someone out?â
âAn outsider, perhaps?â
âIs that so?â
âMaybe⦠yes.â
Linea kept her words to a minimum.
She avoided giving a clear answer about who the wall was for.
âThen am I an outsider?â
ââ¦I donât know?â
This question was a landmine.
A wrong answer could mean pulling the trigger herself.
Linea still didnât know the boyâs purpose. She couldnât answer lightly in a situation where she didnât even know if there was hostility.
âI see.â
Linea gave the best answer she could. She drew a line, as if to say she had no connection to the owner of the mansion.
But the boy seemed to sense the deep-seated fear within Linea and answered himself.
The boy returned to his expressionless state and looked up at the buildingâs wall.
A high and solid wall of separation.
After staring blankly at the wall for a while, the boy trudged away.
ââ¦â¦.â
It was only when the boyâs figure disappeared that Linea could move. This was no ordinary matter.
She had to inform someone. But who should she inform?
âTitan?â
Linea first thought of Titan, the core force of the party.
Should she tell him?
ï¼ï¼There was a trial?
ï¼ï¼Where is he now?
ï¼ï¼I need to check how strong he is.
ï¼ï¼Boom!
No, she shook her head.
Informing Titan without a plan would be like pulling the trigger. There was nothing to gain from provoking an unknown trial.
In that case, she needed someone who could analyze the situation more calmly, even if they were a bit less powerful.
This time, she thought of Lost, who could be considered the center of the party.
ï¼ï¼What? A trial? Are you sure?
ï¼ï¼How can you be certain?
ï¼ï¼Suspicious? That kid? Why?
ï¼ï¼Do you have some strange ability or something?
No, absolutely not. How had she kept this secret until now?
She couldnât create a situation where she would be caught.
Linea shook her head vigorously. Titan was out of the question. Lost was also out of the question. That left only one option.
âClaire!â
âLinea, sister?â
Lineaâs logical circuits were broken.
She knew it wasnât the right decision, but by the process of elimination, Claire was the only one left.
âC-Crisis, itâs a crisis.â
ââ¦What on earth happened in the last 30 minutes?â
Claire stepped back, startled by the extreme change in Linnea, who had been smiling just a moment ago.
âT-Thatâsâ¦!â
Linnea, driven by instinctive fear, began to babble about what she had experienced.
Claire listened to the story with a calm face and came to a conclusion.
âAre you going to tell Mr. Lost?â
âThatâsâ¦â
âIs it a problem with the content gap?â
Claire couldnât be unaware.
The decisive reason Linnea was suspicious of the boy was missing.
She was hiding something.
And she didnât want Lost to find out.
âDo you like him? Such a child?â
Claireâs judgment was strict.
Lost was human trash.
It was an extremely subjective judgment filled with her prejudice.
âLinnea is too good for himâ¦â
In terms of social status, wealth, and even ability, Linnea was too good for him.
Naturally, she had more affection for Linnea, who usually took care of her.
âThen letâs do it this way.â
Anyway, it was not her place to interfere. She was already contemplating whether to kill Lost or not.
âI said I felt suffocated and wanted to go outside, and Linnea, who happened to find the boy, talked to him.â
âOh, is that okay?â
âOf course. You even gave me such a wonderful gift.â
Linnea quietly nodded. It was a pity.
Such a kind child.
Why did she have to live such a harsh life?
âDonât be flustered.â
âOkay.â
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âTake a deep breath⦠and speak calmly.â
âOkay!â
Claire comforted Linnea, who still couldnât shake off the tension from the encounter with the ordeal, and then lay back down.
Somehow, she felt tired.
âWhat is she trying to do here?â
She said she came to Nidavellir to find her weapon. A weapon that Claire, who didnât have the strength to wield a sword, could use temporarily.
Nidavellir had many such weapons. Weapons for the weak.
The most representative one was a gun.
A weapon that could kill a person just by pulling the trigger.
Besides that, there were also many unidentified weapons presumed to have flowed in from the inner city.
So, was Lost looking into those weapons?
âNo, he has another purpose.â
It wasnât a long time, but Claire had figured out something about Lost. He was a suspicious person.
A person full of secrets he didnât tell others.
And he draws people into his plans. So naturally, that they donât even realize it.
He was good at understanding people.
So, he leads them into situations where they have no choice but to comply, even if they know.
âHeâs a villain.â
Claire stared blankly at the ceiling and then turned over.
She saw the test paper that Lost had made.
ââ¦Heâs good at making things like this.â
Unlike the strange scam where she bought a lousy book, the test paper that Lost had organized and made was quite well-made.
It was easy to understand and clear what could be learned through the problems.
It even explained objectively and clearly how the problems could be applied in various fields.
Although not as much as Linnea, Lostâs academic background was much higher than she had imagined.
âBut whyâ¦â
He was a smart person. A person who understood peopleâs hearts well.
Yet, he was a person who built walls.
Like a traveler who only unpacked the minimum luggage so that he could leave at any time.
âTheyâre all just kids.â
Although she was still very young, there was no one in the group who had become an adult.
âEveryone⦠is as immature as meâ¦â
Claire felt her eyes slowly closing. It was a comfortable bed.
âMaybeâ¦â
It might have been to stimulate Geppetto for her weak body.
So, she might have been able to stay in such a wonderful place.
*Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *
Following Claireâs advice, Linea ran calmly and composedly.
âMr. Lost! Itâs a big deal!â
At least, thatâs what she thought.
As she wandered around the mansion, she fell into panic again.
Her heart was anxious because she couldnât see Lost.
Being relatively ordinary, the mere thought of meeting a transcendent made her heart sink.
ââ¦What on earth is going on?â
Lost scratched his cheek as he looked at Linea catching her breath.
He had never seen her overreact like this.
âI, I encountered a trial!â
âWhat? How did that happen?â
ââ¦Claire wanted to get some fresh air, so I took her out and met a strange boy. He looked infinitely human⦠but he was a mechanical device.â
âHmm.â
Fortunately, Linea was able to calm down somewhat as she spat out the excuse she had thought of with Claire.
âWhat did you talk about?â
âWell, thatâ¦â
Lost asked with a cold attitude, as if meeting Lineaâs expectations.
Of course, Lost couldnât have imagined that Linea would face a trial in such a situation.
But itâs not impossible.
After all, it might have been because Linea was a beastman that she could notice the secret of such a boy.
Those with senses superior to others do not come to Nidavellir in the first place.
The city full of noise is only painful for them. Even if they do come, most of them are people who know how to control their senses.
There are not many fools like Linea who wander around with all their senses open in a noisy and headache-inducing place.
âAnd in the end⦠they asked if they were an outsider and then left.â
âThatâs ominous.â
âYes! Itâs ominous! Do you think I did something wrong?â
If her words were to bring a great disaster to Nidavellir, she wouldnât be able to bear it.
Hadnât she hidden everything about herself to fit in with people?
Such fear was constricting her body. As if it were a fate she couldnât change no matter what she did.
She felt as if she would be despised by people.
âCalm down for now.â
Seeing Linneaâs fox ears trembling with anxiety, Rost clasped her hands together.
Then, as if praying, he held her hands tightly.
Whether it was the gentle touch that calmed her, Linneaâs breathing began to relax along with her ears.
âItâs nothing serious. If a few words from you could cause problems in Nidavellir, it would have happened long ago.â
âDo you think so?â
âThere was no malice in the first place.â
Rost closed his eyes as usual and lit a cigarette. It was Rostâs ritual to calm his mind.
The way to control fear with another fear.
He dedicates himself to the ritual to keep his mind sharp.
âThe child is so anxious.â
Rost, looking at the flickering flame at the end of the cigarette with blurry eyes, quietly turned around and asked.
âWouldnât it be better to say something? Master Geppetto.â
Geppettoâs complexion was beyond pale, almost white. He was so agitated that he couldnât hide his expression.
Maybe he was lucky. Because it was a situation where he couldnât make excuses.
âIf my guess is correct, they came to see you.â
Geppetto closed his eyes tightly.
Rost was right.
The âOne Who Draws the Futureâ came to see him. Moreover, it was impossible to hide it now that he had shown such blatant emotional agitation.
ââ¦Miss Linnea, how did that child look to you?â
It was something that had never happened before.
The âOne Who Draws the Futureâ came to find him. Or maybe he just hadnât noticed, and the child had been waiting, blocked by a wall, all this time.
âWellâ¦â
Linnea swallowed dryly as she watched Geppettoâs desolate expression.
The worry that she might have caused a problem had disappeared. Therefore, she could objectively judge the past events.
âIt might have⦠looked lonely.â
But she wasnât confident.
The boy was smiling.
Just like a child of that age.
Thinking it looked lonely was just because the question felt that way.
Unfortunately, Linnea couldnât feel any emotion from the boy.
Even so, she gave such an answer because Geppettoâs expression seemed so desperate.
âYes, I see. That would be natural.â
Geppetto, who had been trembling while looking at his hands, finally seemed to decide something and spoke with wide-open eyes.
âAs you said. The child called ï¼The One Who Draws the Futureï¼, Deus Ex Machina, was created by me.â
Geppetto assured that it must have been a miracle.
âAnd itâs my fault that the child turned out that way.â
âWhatever it is, letâs correct the subject first.â
Lost spoke as he watched Geppetto, who seemed to be vomiting out words. He hadnât come to blame Geppetto.
It was all for the sake of resolution.
Defeating or denying the other was not the only solution.
The saint she respected always lived like a fool. Did that seem foolish? No, it didnât.
That attitude towards life should be respected more than anything.
âThe relationship that makes you so miserable, that must have been a deep one. Then, there must be a name you gave, not the one given by ignorant people, right?â
Not a grand name like ï¼The One Who Draws the Futureï¼ or Deus Ex Machina, but the name that shakes the heart of the dwarf Geppetto.
âThat child isâ¦â
Geppetto lowered his head.
It was something unimaginable.
Until now, no one had cared about the real name of the child who came to be called a trial.
Maybe thatâs why.
âPinocchio.â
It was the secret he had been bearing alone.
Then the man smiled faintly.
âIt sounds like a name that would have worried your parents.â
At such a casual remark, Geppetto, as if recalling a forgotten past, answered with a trembling voice, tears welling up and a bitter smile on his face.
âYes⦠He was a reckless oneâ¦â
And so, the gears that had been halted in Geppettoâs mind began to turn.