#733 (Patreon)

Cleanup (1)  

If we turn the clock back three days, Landa was consumed with chaos, both inside and out.  

It all started when Woodsman Dave not only raided the prison but also launched a direct attack on the kingdom’s army.  

The vast city of Landa resembled a state under martial law.  

Most residents stayed indoors, and in the city's supposedly safest central district, something close to a war erupted.  

Why “something close”?  

It was debatable whether a battle between one man and an army could be called a war.  

It was even more dubious to call it a war when the army failed to inflict a single scratch on the man.  

Nonetheless, those were undeniably chaotic times.  

The majority of Landa’s citizens, already shaken from the zombie army’s invasion, were too frightened to leave their homes.  

Meanwhile, the kingdom’s soldiers and defense forces desperately fought an untouchable foe.  

The chaos was exacerbated by non-stop war updates on the radio.  

But it wasn’t only the soldiers who were busy.  

Among the citizens who barricaded themselves at home, there were some whose circumstances were slightly different.  

Unlike the others, who stayed in out of fear, these individuals were forced to remain inside.  

Listening to the radio, they weren’t trembling in terror—they were biding their time, looking for an opportunity.  

[Breaking news just in… The prison raider, Woodsman Dave, has summoned a massive creature in District A, causing significant destruction. In response…]  

[…Reports confirm extensive casualties in District A due to the summoned creature…]  

[…Some speculate that the zombie army that attacked Landa was also part of Woodsman Dave’s long-term plan. They suggest he seized the contaminated area in District F for a large supply of corpses…]  

Finally, after a long wait, the radio offered them the chance they had been waiting for.  

[If you have questions, ask. I’ll cooperate as much as I can.]  

[You’re not listening to me, are you?]  

It was a conversation between self-proclaimed hero General Billy Crowley, who claimed credit for saving Landa from the zombie army, and the villainous warlock Woodsman Dave, who had attacked Landa.  

Opportunity.  

Fear.  

Though their motives differed, all the citizens glued to their radios were riveted by this sudden exchange.  

Shortly after, they heard shocking news.  

The shocking revelation was that General Billy Crowley, a soldier of the United Kingdom, had conspired with Puppet to advance his career.  

Puppet was a warlock despised by all, yet many of the United Kingdom’s leaders—wizards, druids, politicians, nobles, and even the crown prince—were also in league with him.  

The leaders who had guided the golden age of the United Kingdom had allied with the very warlocks they loathed, specifically Puppet’s faction.  

Landa’s citizens, overwhelmed by the shocking revelation, momentarily forgot their fear, falling into stunned silence.  

This reaction wasn’t unusual when faced with information too staggering to process.  

Yet, as always, there were exceptions—those who had been listening to the radio, waiting for their moment.  

These exceptions were none other than city council members and high-ranking officials confined by the kingdom’s military.  

“Goddamn it! I knew it!”  

“Ugh, idiots… Does this mean vacation’s over?”  

“Honey, where’s my suit? Looks like I’m going to work.”  

“No idea.”  

Of course, not all of them reacted this way.  

As politicians, some had already been bought off by Puppet, while others were too terrified to act.  

However, what mattered was that a few of them did take action.  

Out of 24 council members, 16 moved.  

They ignored their detention, donned their (bribe-funded) expensive suits, and stepped outside.  

Naturally, the kingdom’s soldiers, tasked with monitoring them, tried to stop them, leading to confrontations.  

“You can’t leave, Councilor.”  

“Can’t you see what’s happening? Your commander’s working with Puppet!”  

“That’s nonsense! It’s the warlock’s lies!”  

“Lies from a sorcerer winning the war?”  

“…”  

“Here’s a deal: Pretend you forgot to stop me. When things go south, I’ll defend the kingdom’s forces. No need for all of you to go down just because the King got caught, right? This isn’t chess.”  

The councilors, seasoned politicians accustomed to dealing with Landa’s con artists, swindlers, thugs, and murderers, tried to persuade the soldiers with sweet talk.  

Most soldiers, dedicated to their duty, held their ground.  

But a few—four, to be exact—were swayed.  

Four out of 24 council members—roughly 17%—gained their freedom.  

A small number, but astonishingly, they managed to wrest control of Landa from a self-proclaimed hero who had confessed to treason and from an army demoralized by a single warlock.  

And they did it in less than a day.  

Of course, it wasn’t just the councilors who played a part.  

High-ranking officials, such as ministers, also contributed.  

For instance, Paul Carver, the Minister of Internal Affairs, who had formed an unofficial alliance with Woodsman Dave, offered his input.  

"First, there's something we need to do."  

"Take control of the Defense Forces and Security Bureau?"  

"No, that's already as good as done. They weren’t exactly loyal to the Kingdom's forces, to begin with. We've already spoken with them."  

"As expected, Paul. You're efficient. So, what is it?"  

"We need to clean up this mess."  

A mess.  

It was an inappropriate word for public officials to use, but no one denied its accuracy.  

After all, a zombie army had attacked Landa, the commander of the Kingdom's forces who had supposedly driven them away was revealed to have colluded with Puppet, and even the Kingdom’s leaders were implicated in the conspiracy.  

There was no better word than "mess" to describe the situation.  

The task for the leaders who had regained control of Landa was to turn this disaster into something less disastrous.  

And Carver wasted no time proposing a plan.  

"We need to downplay the facts."  

"Not cover them up?"  

"It's far too late for that. By a long shot."  

"Agreed. So, you're suggesting we edit the narrative?"  

"Exactly."  

Editing: the political art of admitting some truths while omitting others to minimize the fallout.  

Carver nodded firmly.  

"Yes."  

"How much do we reveal, and how much do we deny?"  

"We'll acknowledge only General Crowley’s involvement and deny everything else. We’ll claim that he alone conspired with Puppet and frame the zombie army invasion as a fabricated crisis."  

"To inflate his own achievements?"  

"Precisely."  

"Isn't that letting him off too easily?"  

"Any further, and we’ll be in over our heads. This is as far as we can go."  

Carver argued his case emphatically, and the councilors silently agreed.  

Even seasoned politicians dared not predict what might happen if more names were implicated.  

In fact, they didn’t want to imagine it.  

If they pushed too hard, it could result in the collapse—or near-collapse—of the United Kingdom itself.  

After all, a nation’s leaders had conspired with warlocks to orchestrate a crisis.  

"If we stop at General Crowley, the Kingdom’s forces will follow our lead and transfer control of Landa to us. It’ll also be easier to calm the public. Most importantly, if we act decisively, the Kingdom won’t dare move against us."  

"Because doing so would mean admitting they’re guilty."  

With a plan quickly taking shape, the leaders resolved to proceed.  

The next issue arose immediately.  

"What about Dave…? What do we do with him?"  

The question pertained to how they should handle Dave.  

According to reports, Dave had defeated Pied Piper—the most powerful warlock who had single-handedly turned Landa upside down.  

No one doubted this; after all, Dave had also crushed the Kingdom’s forces on his own.  

But the real problem lay beyond that.  

After defeating Pied Piper, rumors began spreading through the underworld, particularly among warlocks.  

They claimed the end of the world was approaching, with Woodsman Dave at its center.  

As such, they advocated worshiping Dave and preparing for the apocalypse under his leadership.  

Ridiculous nonsense akin to the arrival of a demon king.  

The problem was that it couldn’t be dismissed outright.  

Warlocks affiliated with Puppet had been persistently reaching out to Dave’s subordinate, Marie.  

The Black Hand, a loose coalition of warlocks, was consolidating around a single figure.  

This was a disaster waiting to happen, especially now that divine law had vanished.  

It posed a threat even greater than the zombie army, the Kingdom’s forces, or Pied Piper.  

How was Landa to deal with such a man?  

No, the real question was whether they could deal with him at all.  

"We'll frame it as if we hired him."  

"What?"  

"We suspected something suspicious between General Crowley and Puppet."  

"That was pure luck, but fine, sure."  

"Then Crowley detained all of us. We’ll claim we hired Dave to expose Crowley’s secrets."  

"You’ve got to be kidding me. That doesn’t even sound plausible."  

"It does. From an outsider’s perspective, that’s exactly how it looks. Moreover, despite the destruction of the Kingdom’s forces, no one was injured or killed in the battle. At least not by Dave’s hand."  

"It sounds insane, but it’s true."  

One of the council members chimed in.  

“No one shed any blood, so people will believe it. As for the prison incident, Forrest said Puppet was behind it, so it’s not Dave’s fault.”  

“Even so…”  

Some council members remained skeptical.  

Part of it was because Carver’s proposal seemed far-fetched, but mostly, it was fear—fear of someone possessing such unimaginable power.  

Such beings invited suspicion and dread simply by existing.  

Ironically, it was that very unimaginable power that ultimately persuaded them.  

“Do you have any other ideas?”  

Paul Carver posed the question, and as his words sank in, the council members realized there were no alternatives.  

They stopped voicing dissent.  

Choice was a privilege of the powerful, and the council members, whether they liked it or not, had no option but to make it seem like they had cooperated willingly with Dave.  

With the plan set, the city council and Landa’s administrative apparatus sprang into action.  

Newspapers and radio stations that had been aligned with the Kingdom’s military now shifted back to the council’s side.  

They exposed the dirty alliance between Billy Crowley and Puppet, labeling all other claims as lies, and declared Woodsman Dave, the solver, as the hero of the hour.  

[Indeed! The city council hired Landa’s top solver to uncover General Billy Crowley’s secrets!]  

Fortunately, most people believed the narrative.  

In difficult times, people tend to believe what they want to believe, and these were especially challenging times.  

Meanwhile, the city council secretly contacted the royal court and the central parliament.  

As planned, their negotiations proceeded smoothly.  

“Thank you for exposing General Crowley’s dirty secrets. We had no idea such things were happening. We knew he was blinded by ambition, but to think he was that insane…”  

“We share the same sentiment.”  

Despite having coordinated nothing beforehand, their conversation unfolded seamlessly, as if they were performing a rehearsed play.  

“But there was one absurd claim General Crowley made…”  

“It was an incident that occurred during the course of the mission. You know how desperate villains spout nonsense when cornered.”  

“Right, nonsense…”  

“We’re organizing those details as well, so there’s no need to worry.”  

“Thank you. As expected of Landa.”  

The meeting with the royal steward and the central parliament’s representative ended without any surprises.  

Shortly afterward, an announcement regarding the succession to the throne was made.  

This all happened within just three days.  

Thanks to these developments, Landa, which had lost its vibrancy under the Kingdom’s unauthorized occupation, began to regain its former character.  

However, there was no room for complacency.  

Many unresolved issues remained—one of the most pressing being Dave’s whereabouts.  

“Where is Dave? We need to at least see him.”  

“Indeed, we need to hear his thoughts—not just about this incident but beyond. He has become such a significant figure now.”  

Paul Carver had no answer to these questions.  

The matter was beyond his expertise—or anyone’s, for that matter.  

How could anyone locate someone who had single-handedly crushed an army and then disappeared?  

Of course, admitting this outright was out of the question.  

Carver was about to suggest searching further through Dave’s associates when the door to the meeting room swung open.  

Bang!  

Normally, the arrogant and sarcastic council members of Landa would have erupted, shouting insults and issuing threats at whoever dared barge in unannounced.  

But no one said a word.  

Their silence wasn’t due to newfound tolerance; that was far from Landa’s ethos.  

No, the reason they were quiet was simple—standing before them was Woodsman Dave, the man they had been desperately seeking, and someone far stronger than any of them.  

“Greetings, everyone. You too, Mr. Carver.”  

Dave, appearing for the first time in three days, greeted the councilors and ministers as casually as a neighbor saying hello.  

Without waiting for permission, he sat down and casually declared:  

“Puppet’s alliance with the royal family is real. So is the fact that the apocalypse is approaching.”  

Silence fell over the room.  

The councilors were so stunned they might have been less shocked if someone had thrown a grenade into the room.  

Just as they were beginning to process their disbelief, Dave delivered another blow.  

“Oh, and one more thing. I’m a prince of hell. Any questions?”  

“What… what are you talking about?”  

After an unbearably long silence, one brave councilor spoke up, taking on the role no one else dared.  

It was a question that required immense courage, and yet all Dave did in response was shrug.  

“I’ve just addressed what you were most curious about—whether the royal family is truly allied with Puppet, whether the apocalypse is approaching, and who I really am.”  

The room fell silent, filled with shock.  

While the councilors had been focused on resolving the immediate chaos, they, too, had questions about what was true.  

After all, believing something might be true and knowing it for certain are worlds apart.  

Oliver had put a period on their doubts, confirming their fears: that the royal court and Puppet were indeed allied, that the apocalypse was approaching and the world was nearing its end, and that Oliver himself stood at the center of it all.  

“Don’t be too surprised—you can see it all for yourselves.”  

As new questions began to surface—how he knew all this—Oliver preemptively answered them, leaving no room for doubt.  

Even the faint skepticism lingering in the councilors’ minds melted away like snow under the sun.  

Just by facing Oliver and hearing a few words, the hardened politicians believed him.  

If they weren’t losing their minds, then Oliver truly was the prince of hell.  

And since they considered themselves far too young for senility, they chose to believe the latter.  

“Is there anything else you’re curious about?”  

Oliver posed the question again to the councilors, who were still reeling.  

Though they found his calmness in the face of their confusion rather audacious, they decided to set aside their indignation and ask the questions that truly mattered—not as politicians, but as people.  

“What is this apocalypse you speak of?”  

“I won’t answer that.”  

“…? Didn’t you just ask if we had any questions?”  

“I told you to ask. I didn’t say I’d answer.”  

“······!!”  

The councilors’ eyes widened, stunned by his audacity.  

There were two reasons for their shock.  

First, since becoming councilors, they’d never heard such outrageous words.  

Second, the Dave they knew—though only indirectly through rumors and Paul Carver—wasn’t someone prone to such ridiculous antics.  

From what they’d gathered, Dave wasn’t the type to suddenly appear and spout nonsense.  

‘Then what is this?’  

‘Could someone be impersonating him?’  

“I sense there’s something you want to ask me,” Paul Carver, Landa’s Minister of Internal Affairs, interjected calmly, as though he had caught on to their thoughts.  

Oliver nodded.  

“I’ve answered your questions; it’s only fair I get to ask mine.”  

“A fair point,” Carver replied, then turned to the councilors.  

Understanding the flow of the conversation, they silently entrusted him with full authority.  

“What would you like to know?”  

“What is Landa’s leadership planning to do about the apocalypse?”