The tactics of a veteran are on a different dimension.
“I’m not asking for much. It’s foolish to expect a young punk like you to know a lot in the first place. What can you possibly know? What I want isn’t grand; it’s simply to have a chat. Oh dear, you must be starving after being captured. Want to nibble on some corn (кукуруза)? It looks like you’re struggling to grab something to eat; let me do the work of peeling it for you.”
“We know quite a bit about you. Like your name, age, family details, and such. Ah, this isn’t a threat. What do we want to do with your family if we know them? Sure, there have been instances where anti-terror units have threatened terrorist families. But don’t worry, we aren’t those barbaric types. Well, depending on your answer, you might end up back in the clutches of the anti-terror unit, though.”
“We might torture you in a standard way. For instance, we could cross-check the information we’ve got with what spills out of your mouth. If there’s a discrepancy, we could stick a skewer in you and fry you with electricity or something like that. But continuing to do this might lead to monotony. We aren’t any torture specialists; we just need to extract information, you see? Let’s take it easy here. It wouldn’t please you to sit here after a few rounds of torture and listen to my questions, would it?”
“You just need to answer a few trivial questions. Yes, I’ll start with something a lackey like you can respond to. Just tell me in detail about your daily routine from a week ago up to today.”
First, I soothed this newcomer with fear and inducement.
“I know your kind well. You’re driven by ambitions to climb the ladder, deeply immersed in doctrines instilled by your group—always tight-lipped with somewhat relevant experience to endure.”
“You piglets like you only scheme to stab others in the back, no matter how kindly you’re treated or persuaded. Everything you say is a lie, and your sweet honeyed words cannot persuade a group like you at all!”
“I won’t ask you any questions. Instead, as mentioned earlier, I’ll toy with you. First off, let me introduce you to the legacy of the KGB that your superior so despised.”
“Some valuable teeth might be lost in the process of rearranging your face; I’ll tidy you up with these chisels and needles.”
Those who seemed to have seasoned experience jumped straight into the torture.
“You stupid Slavic-Nazi bastard.”
“I won’t be asking you anything.”
“You won’t be rearranging faces, nor will you cut up bodies.”
“Aside from a bit of beating, you’ll walk away unscathed.”
“Watch closely. Witness your subordinate turn into an idiot because of you!”
I gave a frightful warning to break the spirit of the provocative Ukrainian.
And perhaps there was some effectiveness to this horrifying method, as replies began to flow easily.
“Let’s see. You were trying to get to the Mafia guys extending their reach into Ukraine?”
“During that, did you abduct a few bulging-bellied businessmen to blackmail them?”
“That was the basic plan, but I figured I’d have a bit of fun with it. Yes, that’s possible.”
“Oh, this is somewhat good intel. Trying to sabotage the Russian state-run mana energy research institute, huh?”
“And planning to disguise it as a Chinese operation? Ah, I see why all your gear was nothing but Chinese trash! Hahaha, you can’t disguise it with such junk. The grenades don’t even detonate properly, and after a few shots, the guns jam. So, that’s how you got caught so easily by the anti-terror unit, right?”
“But how did you obtain info on the research institute? There’s no way trash like you could know that. Oh, Japan?”
“There are people in Japan who revere Hitler? Didn’t you scorn yellow-skinned folks as monkeys?”
“Japan is recognized as honorable Aryans by Hitler, and they had a history of forming alliances and fighting. So, you’re okay with that? Hahaha!”
But that was as far as the answers went.
Nothing about magic came up at all. Was there a curse that sealed their lips on that subject, or were they unknowingly being used? In any case, not a word about magic was uttered.
Even after some more torture and coaxing, the only reply remained a stubborn “I don’t know.”
After a moment’s deliberation, the middle-aged man decided to use a method steeped in history from the KGB days.
A technique that some would call fabrication, yet the KGB referred to as creation—a method almost magical.
Viktor listened to the recorded voice coming from the receiver.
“Ugh… Our Azov Battalion… cooperated with a group comprised of Japan’s honorable Aryans…”
“Attempted sabotage against the Russian state-run mana energy research institute… acquired information…”
“With the help of Japanese… shaman, they intended to invoke magic using human sacrifice…”
“We were about to carry out a terror act…”
The voice, soft and strained, bore no strength, but for the strong warrior Viktor, it posed no issue.
[How’s that? Is it the content you wanted?]
“Yes. Thank you.”
[If you’re thankful, why don’t you share some of that liquor you’ve got?]
“Sure, I recently got some quality vodka. I’ll have a subordinate deliver it.”
[Hehe, don’t be stingy; send a whole box instead of just one!]
“Understood.”
After completing the call, Viktor tapped on his desk, pondering.
‘Japan, Japan.’
Japan.
A land filled with warriors and shamans.
‘Japan has quite a few top-notch warriors.’
If they were noteworthy fighters, blocking or dodging Viktor’s attacks wouldn’t be difficult.
After all, the attacks Viktor launched were not tailored to combat fighters but were ranged attacks intended for shamans or wizards.
‘Japanazi, huh? It seems fitting in a way…’
After a moment’s thought, Viktor reached a conclusion.
‘Given the sour relations stemming from Sakhalin, a warning wouldn’t be such a bad idea.’
It wasn’t exactly a friendly nation; territories were in constant dispute.
Moreover, they had been the first to scurry away when Russia was in trouble, and recently, their arrogance had begun to grate on Viktor’s nerves.
“I suppose I should initiate some dialogue.”
The world was quickly trending toward the right.
Nationalistic fervor was growing stronger, with more people yearning to return to the ‘glorious era’ of the past, seeking to flex their muscle as a means of showcasing their strength.
China shouted about proclaiming the power of the Middle Kingdom to the world, while the U.S., like before, insisted it should continue to play the role of global coordinator, leading to increases in defense spending. European nations were cutting investments in NATO armies and pouring money into national defense. Notably, Britain appeared to be throwing funds into its navy and air force, perhaps trying to revive the glory of Rule Britannia.
And Japan was no different.
The economic downturn following the bubble economy.
Leadership wanting nationalization.
Increasing taxes and a populace disgruntled by economic failure.
Capable individuals who gained strong powers due to their blessed environment.
All these factors were steering Japan rightward.
Naturally, when life becomes difficult, nationalism rises and extreme claims gain traction.
Once power is obtained, more voices join in, transforming them into mainstream opinions. Once they become mainstream opinions, they dominate everything.
A return to a great empire.
A return to the Taisho era, the most radiant and romantic period.
Recreating the golden age, when divided Japanese people united and achieved miracles.
The Japanese right-wing, those accelerating this rightward shift, shouted for a return to splendid times.
Their motives varied.
Power holders sought more power and honor.
Like their ancestors who led during the imperial days, they wanted their names engraved in history books, wanting to be recorded as the heroes who revived the now-declining Japan. In that process, they yearned to gain wealth and power to live like nobles.
Wealthy individuals wanted more money.
Bathing in gold, surrounded by maids and servants, wishing for unimaginable wealth, similar to their ancestors who lived in palatial homes so vast that they couldn’t traverse merely on foot in a day, achieving everything with a single word, indulging in exquisite delicacies daily, and surrounding themselves with breathtaking beauties.
The populace wanted improved lives.
Gradually increasing taxes and a harsh living environment.
Living in tiny rooms that barely shielded them from sound, eating mere 60-yen nama-take when payday drew near, they aspired to escape such a lifestyle.
Individuals with power wanted to demonstrate their strength.
Much like the great warriors of old, they desired to showcase their strength and elevate the names of their clans and schools through their martial arts achievements.
Perhaps this is a natural phenomenon sparked by survival instincts when life is threatened; living beings tend to express their desires when their very existence is at risk.
Desire.
The yearning to be affluent and live well.
To have beautiful people by their side.
To eat more delicious food.
A deeply innate desire that is so inherently human.
In that sense, the surge toward the right might signify a fervent blossoming of such desires.
Thus, it’s only reasonable that those desiring something would also fall under the sway of their own desires.
“Great Deity, Great Deity…”
Rise prayed.
“I’m managing things well, just as commanded…”
Before the devoutly clasped hands of Rise was a slime, diligently pouring divine energy to assure her she was doing well.
Behind Rise, a fox tail waved slightly, with Narumi, clad in maid-like attire, grooming that tail with an elegant comb.
“Please come back and make me happy.”
