Chapter 85
About a week had passed since Charon left.
To get straight to the point, it was about the event involving a tour of the Marita Museum.
"It might be canceled?"
"Yes..."
At Bellias's words, I stared blankly at the ceiling of our lodgings.
'Hmm...'
Maybe we should just force our way through.
"Should we just try to solve this with force?"
"Yes...?"
"I'm joking."
Bellias looked quite flustered at my sudden remark.
Seeing her expression, I gave a faint laugh, shook my head, and chased away the distracting thoughts blooming in my mind.
Right. Why was I talking about forcing our way in with brute strength?
The Marita I was currently in, the city of these artists, was not a city within the Empire's territory.
Had it been part of the Empire, Bellias and I would have discreetly identified ourselves as members of the Nebula ducal family when we entered.
In other words, we were currently in a city belonging to another country.
And in that situation, we would break into the most important museum in the city by force?
Well. It was absolutely not a good idea.
The reason was simple.
'[Organization]. Those bastards are the problem.'
What [Organization] wanted was a world war.
I'd mentioned it before.
As I said, the interests of numerous kingdoms, empires, and other countries were currently entangled, making the world something of a powder keg.
Ah, of course, merely touching a museum probably wasn't enough to set off that powder keg.
But I couldn't know for sure. In my previous life, World War I had erupted from a single bullet, after all.
You might think I was worrying too much.
But if I didn't think this way, I felt I might unconsciously take the easy path, so I deliberately assumed the worst-case scenario.
If my actions piled up and caused a world war to break out, everything would end up proceeding exactly as [Organization] wanted.
War breaking out would be a problem in itself, but an even greater problem would be moving according to the enemy's wishes while thinking I was acting of my own accord.
'I hate that.'
It was a very simple emotion. I hated it.
I hated other people interfering with me if it wasn't something I wanted.
But was I supposed to think for myself and move for the sake of the enemy's desired goal?
I hated it. I truly did.
Even if I was tired and it was a hassle, taking the long way around was far better than moving according to the wishes of those trying to make an enemy of me.
Reminding myself once again why I was acting through such a circuitous route, I let out a deep breath and looked at Bellias.
"Phew. Sorry. I said something stupid."
First of all.
"You said it might be canceled, right?"
There was no need to choose the last resort of solving things with force until after I'd heard everything she had to say.
"Could you tell me the whole story?"
"Yes."
Bellias nodded at my words and slowly told me what she had heard.
.
.
.
To begin with, this is what I heard from people while I was out buying groceries.
You know about the explosion that happened this time, right?
Yes. The commotion Charon caused. Apparently, the police failed to catch the culprit behind it, of course.
So apparently, people are saying things like this in some quarters.
The traditional event being held at the Marita Museum this time—in other words, the event where people tour the entire museum and view the works that haven't been put on display—might be canceled.
Ah, of course, it's not confirmed.
As you know very well, the artists might rise up in protest the moment it is confirmed.
But.
"The problem is that the rumor has been raised at all."
"Yes."
"Hmm..."
Marita, the city of artists.
During my time in Marita, I had occasionally had the opportunity to perform in a way that was completely outside my station, meet countless people, and speak with those who appeared to be artists.
Because of that, I knew a little about the dispositions of the people in this city and of the artists.
If I took advantage of this...
"I think it might work."
Bellias tilted her head and looked at me when I muttered that.
"Oh, it's nothing."
"I was just thinking that I might stir them up a little."
***
What was the hottest—in other words, the popular art that countless people in this world watched?
Paintings? Too stale and pretentious.
Novels? They had a solid following of enthusiasts, but were they truly a popular choice? Not really.
Then perhaps singers or entertainers, since there was something similar to television?
Well, that was right to some extent.
A device resembling a TV, created by arcane engineers, had been developed, and the new phenomenon of broadcasting had emerged. Along with it, singers, announcers, and other people who appeared on television had given rise to a new profession: entertainers.
But to give the conclusion first, no.
Then what was the art that the public watched and listened to most?
It was theater.
A world where mana existed.
That was why theater, which combined the natural movements of mana awakeners capable of performing spectacular actions with countless special devices, naturally captured people's attention.
And among them was [Ashen Troupe], the most famous theatrical troupe in this city of artists.
It would be no exaggeration to call it one of the most famous troupes, centered on tragic stories and commanding countless artists, fantastic stage devices, and mana awakeners.
"Huh?"
The marquee star of [Ashen Troupe].
Sara Valentis, who had become a top star in an instant thanks to her heavenly voice and exceptional acting ability, stared at the letter she had received.
"Who did you say sent this letter?"
With her vivid pink hair swaying, Sara looked at the troupe employee who had delivered the letter to her.
Perhaps the assessment that she possessed a heavenly voice was not an exaggeration, because the employee was staring blankly at her, entranced by her voice.
"Sigh..."
Perhaps this had happened more than once or twice, because Sara used her mana to deliver a small shock to the employee's forehead.
Thanks to that shock, the employee finally escaped the spell of her voice.
“Ah.”
Sara stared pointedly at the employee, as though telling them to hurry up and answer what she had asked.
"Oh, my. I'm sorry! It's a letter from Bell and As, the married couple famous for their street performances."
"Hmm?"
Bell and As.
Sara thought carefully about the couple the employee had mentioned.
However.
"??"
She didn't remember them.
No—or should she even call it a memory? With less than a month of activity behind them, there was no way she would remember the name of an artist who had only just begun working.
Honestly, from Sara's perspective, gaining fame through street performances was all much of a muchness, so it did not stir her interest at all.
However.
"The fact that a letter has come to me suggests that the troupe master considers them artists worth watching closely."
To send a letter to her so freely and have it actually reach her?
If that were the case, they would already have enough letters to build a tower as enormous as the ducal family's mansion.
But it had reached her?
Nine times out of ten, the troupe master had clearly pulled some strings.
At Sara's words, the employee simply nodded.
It was a sign of affirmation.
"Then let me see it."
Sara took the letter the employee held out, then waved them away.
"Sigh."
Once the employee, who had been staring blankly and drowning in her voice, left, Sara let out the deep sigh she had been holding back.
Honestly, it was nice that her awakened ability had improved her voice, but whenever people became too absorbed in her voice like this, she couldn't help feeling disillusioned.
But the profession she had chosen... No, the one she had been given also suited her, so perhaps it didn't matter?
Having forcibly redirected her thoughts toward something positive, Sara slowly opened the envelope and began reading the words written inside.
"..."
It was a short letter.
In terms of length, it was probably only one or two pages at most.
Unlike other artists, who consumed their introductions with all kinds of flowery language, the letter's contents were fairly straightforward.
"Interesting."
And the contents of the letter were simple.
This letter had been delivered to the actors and artists of each theatrical troupe.
And if this letter had reached me, it was probably a sign that they knew about and were interested in me and my wife.
"Bold, too."
The letter read as follows.
It seems the city is beginning to show signs of trying to suppress the freedom of us artists.
Word has it that the Marita Museum invitation event, a long-standing tradition, may be canceled over this one explosion.
But this is only the beginning.
I am certain that, one by one, signs of an attempt to suppress us will appear!
So rise up. Now is the time to set our artistic spirits ablaze. Art is born in a freer state.
I earnestly ask that you lend even the slightest aid to my cause.
The letter was filled with sentences sufficient to stir up the artists.
"Ahaha!!"
She laughed.
An ordinary artist might view it as a masterful declaration of their free will.
But.
"Hahaha!!"
Was that all?
At that thought, Sara unconsciously threw off the mask she had been wearing and muttered softly.
"You really are as interesting as I'd heard."
Whoops.
“Ahem…”
Having put the mask she had removed back on, she quietly stared at the letter.
There was no way someone intended to move people with this one letter alone.
This was kindling.
As written here, this letter would surely be delivered to countless troupes and artists.
It was probably kindling meant to incite the artists who had grown dissatisfied with the police investigation that had suddenly taken place a week ago.
"Hehehe..."
Then shall I fan that kindling into a great blaze?
***
All I intended to do was plant a small spark.
If things were truly urgent, I would have acted immediately anyway, but that wasn't the case.
If trouble broke out in this city because of interference from another country, things might grow serious.
But what if it was chaos caused by the artists living here?
What if the artists rose up and started a protest?
Then it wouldn't matter. That was my judgment.
Besides, if things grew this chaotic, the museum's security might become lax, so it would be killing two birds with one stone.
What if people found out that I was responsible?
I'd already prepared for that as well.
The only evidence, the letter, had already been treated with a technique Bellias used to conceal her mana, and would automatically be destroyed after a certain amount of time.
A cry without evidence was nothing but an empty shell.
Besides, if I used the power of the Nebula ducal family, it was a problem that could easily be resolved.
After all, it was merely a letter saying, 'Let us gain freedom.' How great a crime could that be?
But then.
"What?"
"So, apparently, Sara, the star of [Ashen Troupe], expressed her position on this situation after this performance?"
As she said that, Bellias handed me a report containing a brief profile of Sara.
A star. And not just any star—the marquee star of the most famous theatrical troupe in the city. The things she said would have an enormous impact.
Naturally, they knew the impact of their words, so it was normal for them to keep quiet when the issue was this sensitive.
Even so, the reason I had scattered letters among the famous troupes of this city was almost like a show, a way of demonstrating just how serious I was.
"Really?"
But a genuinely famous person had genuinely spoken up in response to that show?
At my startled question, Bellias nodded.
"Yes."
"Huh..."
I'd only tried to take the long way around, but the flames might grow beyond anything I had imagined.
I began to have a strong premonition of that.
“Good.”
With that thought, I immediately stood up and began putting on my clothes for going out.
Well, by clothes for going out, I simply meant putting on a jacket.
"..."
To be honest.
It was suspicious. Every one of that woman Sara's actions was suspicious.
So I thought I'd check.
Myself.