Chereads / The Combat Baker and Automaton Waitress, Vol. 3  / Chapter 7 - [7] Chapter 05: Schutzstaffel

Chapter 7 - [7] Chapter 05: Schutzstaffel

Svelgen Avei and Lud Langart haven't realized it yet.

Someone is watching them.

It is understandable that they haven't noticed.

The ex-colonel, with whom Svelgen Avei is infatuated, believes that they aren't important enough for anyone to watch.

And in a way, he is correct.

It actually isn't them being watched.

And that's why it bothers me.

My mission is to watch Svelgen Avei and Lud Langart, and I was told to do nothing more than that.

And "nothing more" means "don't do anything else."

So, I've just been watching.

Earlier, when a Special Forces soldier from August arrived with an all-purpose tank, and when a mechanical soldier from Greyten took over an airship, I just watched them as I was instructed.

So Svelgen Avei and Lud Langart, who have nothing to do with me, can do whatever the like.

But...

* * *

Before dawn on the morning of the sixth day, two figures were walking in the dark behind Tockerbrot.

It was Shylock's two minions, Poracho and Faran.

"Bro? Let's not do this... This is going' too far. It's a crime!"

"Don't be a dunce! Don't you get it? Boss'll lose if this keeps up! Then what'll happen? We won't be able to bring back the boy! And then Boss won't get what he wants the most!"

Poracho whispered as if yelling at Faran, who was like his kid brother.

"Don't forget that we owe a ton of dough to Mr. Shylock and we gotta pay him back!"

Until ten years ago, this pair had been young hoodlums hanging around the backstreets of Berun, the royal capital of Wiltia.

They had been making a living by shoplifting, picking pockets and swiping bags. Then one day they had stolen a bag from Shylock.

Soon after, Shylock's men had nabbed them, but they had already hidden the money.

Shylock grilled them to find out where his money was, but the two continued play innocent and were dragged to police.

They were actually relieved and though, "Take that!"

They believed that the money was theirs.

However, that was only the start of the hell that awaited them.

The police punched them, kicked them, and struck them with batons. They tortured the two to find out where money was hidden.

The police were not enforcing the laws.

They wanted the money for themselves.

There were good police and there were police who weren't always good, but who fulfilled their duties. In Berun, however, the police were all bad apples who would ignore petty crimes if bribed.

They took goods from shops around town saying there were on patrol, didn't pay what they owed and even scrounged for money.

Poracho and Faran finally gave up confessed.

The police kicked them back out to the street without any medical treatment.

Then Shylock appeared.

He had known what the police would do.

That's why he had originally told them, "If you return the money, I won't take you to the police."

They had ignored his warning. They had been badly hurt, and had lost the money. Without scoffing or laughing, Shylock took them to the closest diner, fed them, and gave them money for medicine.

And then...

"If you have trouble filling your stomachs, come to my place. You'll at least be able to earn enough to eat."

After saying this, Shylock left.

"We gotta pay Mr. Shylock back for hirin' us and treatin' us like human beings! We might be losers, but we should be grateful!"

Poracho was holding a liquor bottle.

It wasn't wine or brandy in the bottle. It was gasoline.

"Yeah, but... We don't have to set fire to their shop!"

They were planning to commit arson at Tockerbrot.

"I know! That's why we're just gonna burn the oven in the back!"

The oven was made of stone and highly resistant to fire.

It might burn but without leading a major fire.

The damage would still make it impossible for Lud to continue baking.

"If you don't like it, then run home! I mean, you should go home."

Faran saw the uncharacteristic resolution in Porocho's desperate features.

"After I light this fire, I'll go to the police. I'll explain that I did it and that Mr. Shylock wasn't involved, so you don't need to come with me."

The police department was still a place of painful memories.

The police had punched and kicked them over and over, but the humiliation and bitterness of being trampled on and mocked was worse than the great pain to their bodies.

Poracho didn't want Faran to re-experience that.

His face, slick with a cold sweat, showed his thoughts.

"Bro... I wanna do this with you!"

"You're a moron... But thanks."

Together, they sprinkled the gasoline around. But when they went to light the fire...

"Hm? Hey, Faran. You got a match? I forgot my lighter."

"No, I don't smoke."

They were missing the essential tool for lighting a fire.

"Gimme a break! You smoked until recently!"

"Yeah, but the tax went up!"

The taxes on liquor and cigarettes in Wiltia had been increased three times in three years to cover the cost of war.

"What are you doing?!"

Someone was listening to their banter and watching them with cold eyes.

"Agh! It's the boy!!"

The two thugs cried out in surprise.

Jacob had come out the back door.

"W-what're doin' out this late?"

"I need to use the toilet."

Jacob coldly answered the two thugs, who wre panicking. He sniffed and asked another question.

"That smell... Is it gasoline?!"

For a boy who had grown in a repair shop, it was hard to mistake that smell.

And it was all around the back of the shop.

"What a dirty trick... That old man! What a jerk!!"

Jacob assumed that they were doing this under orders from Shylock.

"N-no, boy! You've got it all wrong!"

"Yeah! We're doing this on our own!"

They insisted loudly that Shylock wasn't involved, but Jacob was furious and spoke with intense hatred.

"What do you mean I've got wrong?! That man is a scoundrel! He would do anything for money and for his own benefit! He doesn't hesitate to stomp on the weak! He's terrible!"

"No! That's not right, boy! Please, just talk with Mr. Shylock! He's nothin' like you think!"

Poracho didn't care what Jacob thought of him. But he begged Jacob to give Shylock another chance.

"You're awfully noisy given the hour!"

It was the voice of a woman.

"Shut up! This ain't your business so-"

Poracho was so tense and distracted that he replied without noticing who had spoken.

If he had been calmer, he would have realized that no matter how loud they were, it was unlikely that anyone would be passing before dawn.

Furthermore, why would that person be wearing a navy blue uniform that was not that of the regular military?

Poracho didn't notice anything until he felt an army knife pushed against his gut.

"W-wagh!! What're you-"

Poracho was in no position to ask questions, and the woman had no intention of answering any.

She made a tight fist and backhanded Poracho in the head.

There was a heavy bonk. The blow didn't kill him, but it had shaken his brain and enough force to make him lose consciousness. It was clear that his attacker didn't care if her victim died.

"What the?!"

Jacob and Faran froze at the sudden appearance of this mysterious woman.

Faran, however, had been through enough dangerous experiences that he recovered quickly.

"Boy! Please, run!"

He shouted to Jacob as he seized the woman.

However, his effort was over as soon as it began.

"Don't touch me, you pig!!"

A few loud sounds rang out-pumf, pumf, pumf!

They were gunshots.

When a shot is fired with the gun pressed tightly against the human body, the target's flesh insulates the sound.

"U-ungh!"

Jacob was trembling. His confused survival instincts told him to get moving before he was killed.

"H-Help-"

He tried to scream so that Lud and Sven would hear.

They would save him from this mysterious and frightening woman.

"Please be quiet."

But his scream was interrupted.

The woman wasn't alone.

A man wearing a mask that covered his entire head grabbed Jacob from behind and punched him in the stomach.

"Uaaagh!"

With a single cry, Jacob lost consciousness.

A blow delivered near the solas plexus between the chest and stomach drives all the air from the lungs.

The body loses oxygen and the brain shuts down, inducing unconsciousness.

"Oh, how kind of you!"

The woman laughed sarcastically at the masked man, who had immobilized her target as painlessly as possible.

"We have attained our objective. Let's go back."

The masked man began to leave.

"Yes. But before that..."

The woman pointed her blood-covered gun in her equally bloody hand at the gasoline-soaked ground.

"Lieutenant?!"

The masked man raised his voice, but the third lieutenant-Schutzstaffel First Lieutenant Hildegard's subordinate, Vanessa-did not hesitate before pulling the trigger.

After a soft pomf, the bullet struck the wall igniting the gasoline and fierce flames rose a moment later.

"Now let's go."

With a nasty smile, Vanessa ran off.

"How cruel..."

The masked corporal glanced briefly at the two men in the light of the flames. He lowered his face as if mourning them, and then followed Vanessa.

* * *

The attic of Tockerbrot was Sven's private room.

There was a rack on which she hung her favorite waitress uniform, a bed, and a small desk with a few utensils where she did a little writing.

Sven was "sleeping" on the bed.

She was an android who didn't need to sleep as humans did.

However, if she let others know that she never slept, they would realized that she wasn't human. Or they would at least grow suspicious and start asking questions.

So, instead of sleeping, she set her output as low as possible and used her AI programming to collate the different events that happened that day, and at the same time she performed self-maintenance, such as addressing the abrasion of biological parts and repairing squeaks in her frame.

Nonetheless, that didn't mean she wasn't also vigilant.

She activated backup circuitry, ran various sensors, and collected external data for immediate start-up in case of emergencies.

"-!"

Tonight, she awoke to consciousness when her sound and thermal sensors detected unusual noises and a rapid increase in temperature.

"What is that sound? Gunshots? And that heat... Fire!"

She analyzed the data and concluded it indicated an emergency. She sprang out of the bed, dressed in a hurry, and jumped from the attic down to the first floor.

"Master! Wake up! There's a fire!"

As she jumped down, she shouted at the door of Lud's room.

"What?!"

Lud had experienced plenty of war zones.

He was trained to respond quickly when enemies unexpectedly attacked camp.

"Where's the source of the fire?!"

"Over there at the oven!"

Sven hadn't seen the actual fire yet, but with her thermal sensors, she could clearly identify where the temperature were highest.

They rushed to open the door to the oven room, but the fire was already raging.

"Oh no... How did this happen?!"

Lud was more careful than most when handling fire, since he used it in his work.

He ground his teeth at the reality of what had happened.

"This isn't natural flame... There's a slight impurity in the smoke... Oil! Did someone spread gasoline?!"

"Let's go out back! If this continues, other houses will catch fire!"

They raced through the shop, left through the front entrance, and went around back.

There they found Poracho and Faran lying on the ground.

"What in the world?!"

The two certainly weren't sleeping.

Sven, who could see more than any human, immediately spotted liquor bottle lying next to their feet that smelled gasoline.

"What were... How dare you?!"

Murderous rage filled Sven.

Tockerbrot was the fulfillment of Lud's dream.

How much had he emotionally invested in this bakery? How much had he suffered? How much had he struggled? How much had he longed, day after day, to please the people of this town?

"How could you?!!!"

The word fury couldn't begin to describe her rage.

Angry enough to devour gods, Sven prepared to attack the two thugs.

"Stop, Avei!!"

But first, Lud shouted.

"-!!"

Sven involuntarily froze.

Avei had been her name when she was a humanoid Hunter Unit.

It had been her personal code when she was an Iron Giant sharing the name of Silver Wolf with Lud, before she gained human form.

"M-Master... What did you just say?"

Stunned, Sven had forgotten her anger toward the two thugs and the fire burning before her eyes.

"Sorry... That just slipped out."

"Huh...?"

But his answer was extremely offhand.

"My old partner lost herself when she was angry the way you just did now, so..."

"Oh, I see... Really?"

Lud had never mentioned that Avei, Sven's old self, was AI for a Hunter Unit.

If Sven wanted Lud to think of her as human, she would pretend to be convinced by his answer.

"Anyway, there's no time for anger. Call someone right away. It would be a disaster if this fire spreads! And these two appear to be injured, so call a doctor, too!"

"A doctor... For these jerks?!"

They should just abandon them. If she couldn't kill them with her own hands, she at least wished they would suffer and die.

"This is no time for that!"

But Lud didn't want them to die.

And she knew that.

More than anyone else, she knew he was the kind of person who didn't wish anyone harm, even his enemies.

"Understood... I'll be back right away, so don't do anything reckless!"

Sven turned on her heels and ran off into the predawn town.

Argh! What's with me?!

As he ran, Sven felt her heart skip a beat.

Ever since she had returned to Lud as Sven, she had put Avei behind her.

But Lud had called her by that name... Even in such dangerous circumstances, she felt joy at hearing him call her Avei, the name he had given her, which she considered his first present to her.

* * *

"Well, I must do whatever I can!"

Luckily, the oven area had been constructed of flame-retardant brick and stone that prevented the fire from spreading. But if the wind blew sparks from the flames, there was still a danger of burning down the whole building.

First, Lud headed for the well in the back to get water to put out the fire.

"No, wait... There's a fire extinguisher!"

He had bought a fire extinguisher in case of emergencies when he first opened the shop, even though it had been fairly expensive.

But, he had placed it next to the entrance to the oven.

Lud would have to go back inside the shop, but the fire was burning around the back door.

As he turned around and headed toward the front, he stopped.

"H-Help..."

Poracho, who had been unconscious and was more dead than alive, grabbed Lud's leg in desperation.

"Stay calm! We're calling for help! A doctor's coming, too!"

Their injuries were serious. If he moved them, their conditions might worsen.

His first priority was preventing the fire from spreading so it wouldn't further endanger them.

"Help... Help... There's a big problem..."

"What happened?"

Lud stopped after seeing Poracho's eyes.

He didn't look someone worried about his own life.

Poracho's eyes desperately indicated that there was a more important danger.

"The boy... He's been kidnapped!"

"The boy... You mean Jacob?!"

* * *

Meanwhile, at the hotel in Saupunkt...

Shylock was awakened by a phone call from the front desk.

"Don't call me this late, you dimwit!"

He yelled at the operator, but then he realized that the voice on the phone was shaking.

"The caller says she is in the Schutzstaffel."

"What?"

Shylock understood because he did business with the military industry in the royal capital, Berun.

However, he felt mild disgust at the Schutzstaffel for discovering where he was and calling him this late.

"Put it through."

After a moment, the voice changed.

"Sorry to bother you at this hour, Chairman Shylock."

The voice was a child's... No, a woman's.

Either way, the caller was young.

"Can you come to Organbaelz right away? Do you know the mine there? Baelz Mine. I'm sure you know it. I'll be waiting for you."

Her tone was high-handed, if polite enough, and it didn't hold an ounce of respect for the person to whom she was talking.

Instead, she was being polite for the sake of appearances, which further jangled Shylock's nerves.

It was feigned courtesy.

"Save your sleep-talking for when you're asleep!"

The best way to handle someone like this was to completely shut her down.

Shylock answered curtly and was about to hang up.

But the woman's next words stopped him from moving.

"Your grandson will die."

"What are you talking about?"

Shylock didn't know that his underlings had tried to set fire to Tockerbrot, and that the Schutzstaffel had kidnapped Jacob.

His face broke out in a sweat.

"You want me to explain? The child you were trying to get hold of with your absurd sideshow is now in our hands!"

The woman on the phone was no longer pretending to be polite.

The malice in her tone was clear.

Shylock restrained himself from making another angry outburst. Without a doubt, this woman was dangerous.

His instincts as an experienced businessman warned him against speaking to her any further.

"Don't you trust me? Then I'll let him speak!"

Shylock heard a faint voice through the receiver.

"Stop... Stop..."

A weak voice... a child's voice and then a kicking sound.

There was no doubt that it was Jacob.

He must have refused an order to beg for pity, so the woman on the phone had kicked him to make him scream.

"I understand."

Shylock was not free to make any other choice.

"I already gave you the location, I'm sure I don't need to say this, but don't tell anyone, and come alone. If you break this promise... well you know."

Cruel laughter inflected her voice.

She was enjoying herself.

She was forcing someone to act against their will and obey her.

And that gives some people more pleasure than any drug.

This woman...!

However, Shylock sensed something that was even darker behind her cruelty.

Someone who found pleasure in making others surrender had a past in which someone had made her surrender.

Whether it was through money, authority or violence, someone had once broken her heart. She tended her scars by watching others tremble in fear and humiliation.

"Let me ask you one question. What is your name?"

The woman on the phone paused for a moment at Shylock's question.

Either she didn't want to answer, was questioning herself when she disclosed that she was from Schutzstaffel.

If she didn't want to reveal her name, she could just come up with a false one.

The simplest way to say, "You don't need to know." and hang up the phone.

However, after pausing, she answered.

"Hildegard von Hessen. And I'm someone to whom the likes of you ordinarily isn't allowed to speak!"