Chapter 10: A Traitor’s Reckoning

In the dead of night, the Councillor drove alone, making his way home from the suburbs.

His mind was abuzz with the hectic schedule of the coming days. He had to host Adelie, the Teuton leader from Purburg, coordinate the new government’s relocation south, and much more.

His scattered thoughts were abruptly interrupted. A fragile figure suddenly appeared directly in front of his car, startling him into slamming on the brakes.

His body was violently flung back against the seat by the sudden inertia, letting out a muffled thud.

‘Damn it!’

Annoyed, he rolled down the window, intending to scold whoever’s child was aimlessly wandering into the road. Instead, he saw a fair-faced, blond-haired youth standing by the roadside, clutching the corner of his clothes and gazing at him with a wronged expression.

“Councillor sir…” Fran’s eyes brimmed with tears as he lowered his gaze, complaining pitifully. “After your father heard the broadcast, he scolded me terribly again. I’m quitting. Please give me my wages. I… I’m going home…”

“Ah, this…” The Councillor was somewhat astonished to find Fran here. He stepped out of the car, looking around in bewilderment.

‘Hmm…’

Though a flicker of doubt crossed his mind, he felt little apprehension facing the seemingly frail youth before him.

He wasn’t particularly concerned about his father’s affairs, but retaining Fran would be ideal. However, it seemed the youth had had enough of the old man’s temper. If he couldn’t be persuaded, there was no point in wasting too much time on him.

“Are you truly quitting? I could pay a bit more. Oh, right, let me settle this month’s wages for you first.”

The Councillor turned, ducking back into the car to retrieve the money.

“Click—”

The crisp click of a safety being disengaged sent a jolt through the Councillor. Suddenly, a dark muzzle pressed against his back.

A cold sweat immediately beaded on the Councillor’s scalp. With his back still to Fran, he slowly raised his hands, attempting to shift his body.

“Don’t move!” Fran’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding.

‘Wh-what’s happening…?’

‘This child, how could he be pointing a gun at me?’

“Fr-Fran, wh-what are you doing? Don’t… don’t joke around, alright…?”

“I’m here to avenge the old man. You’d best cooperate!”

The youth behind him was as cold as frost, utterly devoid of any previous gentleness. His voice turned sinister and terrifying, making the Councillor’s body tremble uncontrollably. Of course, the primary reason for his fear was the gun barrel still pressed against his back.

“Wh-who sent you? Are you… alone? Or Alina? Or…”

The Councillor urgently needed to understand who had sent this individual. How could a mere caregiver be involved in an assassination?

Fran, however, didn’t respond to his questions. ‘Does it matter if it’s one, two, or several people?’ he thought.

“I represent the heroes of Francis, here to purge those who betray the nation!” Fran shrieked, his voice laced with furious emotion. “Councillor sir, your collusion with the Teutons is already enough for me to pull this trigger. Not to mention, your father! Your father demands we continue fighting, yet you commit such acts!”

Fran’s emotional outburst turned into a furious roar. Noticing the youth’s loss of control, the Councillor was momentarily stunned. ‘How… how did he know about my connections with the Teutons?’

“You searched my belongings?”

“Yes, indeed. Beneath the flowerpot, I found your complete correspondence with the Teutons. Do you have anything more to say? Don’t tell me you’re trying to play the ‘save the country through indirect means’ card; you haven’t just been busy for a day or two…”

Listening to Fran’s words, the Councillor scoffed, his expression unchanged. Still with his back to Fran, he sneered derisively:

“Ha, how utterly laughable! You’re as ridiculous as the old man! The war wasn’t lost by my hand, so why come after me? All of you, with your heads filled with notions of ‘the nation,’ don’t you ever consider securing your own futures? The old man, fine, he doesn’t have many years left. But you?”

“All I know is that if your father learned of your treasonous collusion, he would be the first to slaughter you!”

“Ah, then he’d have far too many people to kill. Fran, in the entire Congress, who *doesn’t* have ties to the Teutons?!”

“Wh-what?”

As Fran stood momentarily lost in surprise, the Councillor suddenly spun around. He reached out, aiming to snatch the pistol from Fran’s hand!

The Councillor had seen Fran’s gaze waver in the rearview mirror—that fleeting instant was all he needed. He immediately turned to disarm him.

Beyond seven paces, a gun is swift!

Within seven paces, a gun… a gun is both deadly accurate and swift.

The Councillor had almost gripped the barrel, but Fran reacted with lightning speed. He immediately pulled the trigger.

“Bang—bang—bang—bang—bang—bang—!”

Fran fired repeatedly as he retreated, emptying the six rounds in his magazine in a panicked flurry. Every bullet pierced the Councillor’s body.

The struck Councillor collapsed to the ground, blood gushing from six bullet wounds. Fran’s hands trembled as he lowered the gun, staring at the scene he had wrought.

He took a ragged breath, his nerves frayed. ‘No, this isn’t right…’

‘No, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I hadn’t intended to shoot. I only wanted to give him a warning, to make him mend his ways, but…’

Fran desperately tried to reassure himself: the other man had tried to take his gun. If he hadn’t fired, he would be the one lying in a pool of blood now.

His breathing remained shallow and strained. He realized he couldn’t simply leave things as they were; if he fled now, the body would be discovered swiftly.

He dragged the body into the back seat of the car. Then, he opened the driver’s door, slid into the seat, and drove towards a nearby hillside. He stopped the car at the edge of a cliff, got out, and pushed the vehicle down the slope.

“Crash—!”

The sound of the car plummeting down the cliff brought a sigh of relief.

He stood at the cliff edge, gazing into the abyss, as the evening breeze brushed against his face.

Fran let out a heavy sigh. He raised the gun in his hand, tears welling in his eyes.

He didn’t know if what he had done was right or wrong.

Perhaps the old man wouldn’t have wanted him to personally eliminate his own child, even if he was a traitor?

Yet Fran felt that his actions weren’t entirely for the old man. More precisely, they were for the old man’s will, or perhaps his own, or even the collective will of countless Franciscans.

Traitors deserved no good end.

‘Ha…’

Yet, recalling the Councillor’s final words, a sudden sense of absurdity washed over him. What good was killing one traitor, really? In the new, surrendering government, among the congressmen, countless individuals maintained ties with the Teutons. They were all poised to become the enemy’s lapdogs, ready to trade loyalty for the preservation of their own status.

How could such people ever be eradicated…?

To truly bring them to justice, one would likely have to wait until the day the Teutons were driven out. But when would that day ever arrive?

Indeed, the most crucial task at hand was to expel the Teutons, to drive out those hateful invaders. Only then could the post-war reckoning begin.

He put away the gun, his heart once again seized by panic. The fervent passion that had driven him to eliminate a traitor for his country had receded. Only now did the full realization strike him: he… he had just killed a man.

‘No,’ Fran thought, taking a deep breath. ‘I can’t stay here for too long.’

He turned, returned to the road, and began jogging towards the city center.

Teuton troops occasionally patrolled the city, and Fran feared being noticed. Perhaps it was his guilty conscience, but he was now trembling, his inner turmoil impossible to quell.

Just then, he suddenly saw a tank rumbling towards him. He quickly dodged to the side, but the tank stopped precisely in front of him.

A silver-haired head emerged from the armored vehicle…