第１３１７堀：緊張を克服するには？ (Part1)
Chapter 1317: How to Overcome Nervousness?
Side: Yuki
“...A-and, t-that is, the, the situation...”
Before me, Prol—who had been reporting the situation to me with such poise and confidence just the other day—was stuttering and trembling, her explanation falling into disarray. I couldn't hide my bewilderment.
Fiora and the others seemed to share my confusion; they were staring blankly, completely taken aback.
Wondering what on earth could have happened, I shifted my gaze to Kirika, who was standing beside Prol.
“This is her natural state. You could call the other one her ‘work mode.’ She seems to switch her mindset when she enters that state.”
“Ah, I see.”
Self-hypnosis, perhaps? Intentionally toggling her personality on and off like a switch. It’s common enough among soldiers in the heat of war. I suppose it’s a necessity; one couldn't commit the act of killing while maintaining a clear, rational mind. For Prol, her work mode must serve that exact purpose.
“I-I’m so, so sorry...”
After Kirika’s explanation, Prol slumped, looking utterly dejected.
“No, don’t worry about it. Besides, couldn’t you have just spoken in your ‘work mode’?”
“In her case, she doesn't seem capable of toggling it that precisely. When she’s ‘off,’ this is how she is. The wives are already aware of this.”
“Eh? Fiora, did you know?”
“No, this is the first I’ve heard of it...”
“Oh, my apologies. I meant the other wives, excluding Lady Fiora. Yes, that’s right. Isn’t that so, Lady Ria, Lady Jessica?”
As Kirue directed her gaze toward the two of them, they nodded immediately.
“That’s right. She’s quite stiff with us, too—though perhaps not as much as she is with you, Yuki.”
“I understand how she feels, but Yuki, do you remember when you saved Prol a long time ago?”
“Yeah, I remember. She was an immigrant from the Litea slums, suffering from a pretty severe illness. Lulua called me in to assist with the treatment.”
Prol had been an immigrant from the Litea slums. She was one of those people who had clung to life in Litea, hoping that one day she would be granted medical care. However, Litea at the time was governed by a philosophy of greed; those without money were never given a chance. Consequently, there were many like Prol who had no choice but to wait for death, and a significant number of immigrants were brought out of the slums on makeshift stretchers.
Of course, some of the healthier ones preferred to stay in Litea to receive treatment rather than head to the mysterious Weed, and I’d heard that the current Saint, Alstaire, had intervened to ensure they received care. Well, many people had come to Weed at the urging of the former Saint, Lulua, and since Seraria had kicked the asses of the idiots in Litea, the upper echelons of that city had become somewhat cooperative. That stroke of luck meant Prol was transported here just before she lost her life.
As I was feeling a wave of nostalgia, she spoke up...
“Y-you... you remembered? Someone like me, who is no better than trash...”
For some reason, Prol dropped to her knees, clasping her hands together in prayer as she looked up at me. She even called herself trash. I instinctively recoiled, but I suppose that’s the burden of her slum upbringing.
“No, Prol, you aren’t trash. You reported this crisis to us, and you’re capable at your job. That means you’re working hard for us, for Weed. So, please, stand up. Or rather, let’s sit in chairs and talk this over properly.”
I reached out a hand, hoping she’d take the hint and get up. Being prayed to is, for someone like me who dislikes gods, about the most uncomfortable form of etiquette imaginable.
“Eep!”
Even so, she was far too nervous in my presence to move. Just as I was wondering what to do, Kirue appeared behind Prol, took her rigid arm, and guided her hand toward mine.
“K-Kirue-sama!?”
“Among the wives, you were able to speak to me normally, yet here you are in this state. I understand your feelings, but that is no reason to trouble the Master.”
Man, she’s a Spartan, isn't she? But it was true that we wouldn't get anywhere like this, so I took Prol’s hand, pulled her arm, and helped her to her feet.
“O-oh-my...”
What kind of strange exclamation was that? It was so alien that I almost wanted to ask if she was some kind of mysterious creature.
“For now, let’s focus on what you told me earlier—the group with that ridiculous title, the ‘Anti-Weed Coalition.’”
Despite my surprise at her personality shift, the content of her report had been entirely serious. As a result of creating the new residential district, the number of applicants for immigration had surged to the point where the Resident Services Division was overwhelmed, and among them were members of this so-called Anti-Weed Coalition.
They were currently only sharing internal information about Weed with outsiders, so I agreed with her assessment that moving against them now would likely invite criticism. People are free to hold their own opinions. Whether they harbor resentment toward me, Seraria, or Weed itself, I won’t punish them for their thoughts alone. In fact, I’ve often thought that such people might even become the driving force that pushes Weed forward.
The problem is the people who act without regard for others. Those types love using force, which leads to damage to people, homes, and property.
“However, they haven’t taken any concrete action yet, have they? If that’s the case, we can’t really move against them, can we?”
“That’s true. They haven’t done anything wrong yet, right, Prol?”
“A-ah, yes. A-at the moment, they are only, u-um, exchanging information. We haven’t even confirmed any coordination between the three groups yet. Still, considering this is the situation from the very beginning...”
“We can expect more of this ‘Anti-Weed Coalition’ to infiltrate, right? But we can’t refuse them entry, either. We’re going to be carrying a massive bomb inside our borders, aren’t we?”
Steve was right. If we leave things as they are, we’re essentially harboring a bomb that could go off at any moment. But even so...
“Even so, if we refuse entry or order them to leave, that in itself will become a problem.”
“Mm. It’s difficult to prove they are spies. If we do that, we’ll just be giving this ‘Anti-Weed Coalition’ an opening.”
As Samantha and Cleena pointed out, refusal or expulsion would be problematic. We could explain the situation to friendly nations, but hostile ones would undoubtedly seize upon it to lodge complaints. They’re quiet for now, but poking that hornet’s nest could easily ignite a fire.
“Both sides have their advantages, but naturally, there are disadvantages as well.”
“That goes without saying. For now, I understand the situation. I’ll discuss how to handle those who infiltrate with Seraria and the others.”