Chapter Five: The Investigation, the Oracle, and the Clue

Herscherik had learned that, despite being reincarnated into another world, summer nights were just as muggy. That being said, since Herscherik was a prince—albeit the “runt” of the royal family—his room came equipped with very effective air conditioning. It was so effective, in fact, that he often found his office to be a little too breezy. Whenever he turned the air conditioning off, though, the room became instantly muggy. He really wanted to open the window to mitigate the temperature, but that had drawn the furious ire of his butler in the past. So, Herscherik reluctantly put on a coat and let out a sigh at the pile of papers in front of him.

I thought I had the right idea... Even though only two years had passed since the incident, Herscherik had found surprisingly few documents on it. Someone high-up has their fingers in all this, no doubt about that. He’d deduced that someone inside the castle powerful enough to destroy evidence had to be involved in the incident.

Heaving another sigh, Herscherik looked at Oran. He too was lost in the papers before him. Oran had prefaced this by saying that he wasn’t good with this kind of clerical work, but he was still facing down those papers and refusing to give up. Herscherik imagined that his desire to atone for what happened to his fiancée and to prevent anyone else from falling victim to the drug contributed to his enthusiasm. As he watched Oran hard at work, Herscherik produced the silver pocket watch and checked the time. It was already past eight o’clock in the evening.

“Will you be going home tonight, Oran?” Herscherik asked.

Oran was only contracted to work during the day and so far had always left by six o’clock each day. While the matter at hand was quite urgent, overworking wouldn’t do them any good. Working too hard meant not working smart. As someone who had worked in modern-day Japan in a previous life, Herscherik never wanted to force Oran to work overtime. It was ingrained into his mind that people should work no more than eight hours a day with an hour break, five days a week. Of course, Ryoko’s work had not always been as easy as that, but Herscherik wasn’t about to force one of his own men to work off the clock.

On the other hand, Herscherik’s own life had lately been jam-packed with his studies and training, as well as document collection and verification and, of course, his nightly investigations. He barely had enough time to eat and sleep, let alone have any free time. “Well, I’m the prince, so... duh,” he had declared, with the smile of a workaholic.

He had tried to tell Kuro to take some time off, but the butler had only countered with a smile and replied, “I’ll think about it when you change your lifestyle, Hersch.” As he had no intentions of amending his schedule in any way, the prince had no answer for this. I just want Kuro and Oran to get their rest, Herscherik thought, willfully ignoring the irony. Still, he believed that a boss was responsible for managing the work time of his employees.

Oblivious to the prince’s plight, Oran answered without looking up from the papers. “I’ll stay a little longer... Actually, I’m spending the night.” Oran had had his own room prepared for him in the palace on his first day as Herscherik’s knight of service. Considering that he would have to come in bright and early the next day, Oran simply couldn’t be bothered to go home.

Guess I’ll go home tomorrow and grab some clothes...Oran thought. Big Bro said he was working the night shift tonight. I could ask him in the morning. He had his room in the castle but not enough changes of clothes. If he would just spend the night in the castle, he wouldn’t have to bother the servants of his house by coming home so late, either.

With those thoughts running through his mind, Oran flipped to the next set of documents on his desk. They were all the records and accounts of the incident; he’d been combing through every account from the time to see if there were any discrepancies.

Then, he noticed something. “Weird...”

Herscherik looked up from his own set of papers. “What’s weird, Oran?”

Oran handed Herscherik a document. “This incident, for example.” The paper recounted an event that took place two years ago, when the drug was still in circulation. A baron went on a rampage in the red-light district, which concluded with him committing suicide by stabbing a knife into his own throat. “It says the man lost his mind and went on a rampage, but no mention as to how he lost his mind. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

Uncovering the root cause of strange cases like this was the most basic function of the constabulary. This paper, however, only listed the facts of the case in bullet points, with no information on the underlying causes. There were numerous incident reports that had the same problem, all of them sealed up with the “processed” stamp.

“That is weird. We have to look into it. But...” Herscherik hesitated. If we can’t trust the accounts, we have to contact the victim directly. Whoever was behind this couldn’t have obfuscated living people as easily as they could obfuscate papers. Even if the victim decided to lie, it wouldn’t be easy to fool Herscherik. As lies compounded upon each other, cracks would appear in the narrative.

“Why don’t we go talk to the victim tomorrow?”

“We?”

“What, I can’t go?” Herscherik asked, taken by surprise. I want to investigate... He recalled one of the detective dramas Ryoko had liked. The dandy detective with the deep voice had told her that legwork was the only way to solve a case.

“To the red-light district?”

“Red-light... Oh, right.” Herscherik finally understood. The red-light district wasn’t open during the day. If they wanted to go when things were open, they would have to go at night. And at night, the district was in business. Not exactly the kind of place a prince—much less a five-year-old—should find himself in. As Herscherik nodded in agreement, calm as can be, Oran was left befuddled. On the inside, Herscherik was a 35-year-old woman, far too old to be flustered by the mere thought of a red-light district. Which, given his five-year-old exterior, came across as extremely outlandish.

A knock at the door interrupted the awkward silence in the office. “Pardon the intrusion, Prince Hersch. His Majesty is here to see you,” Kuro called from the hallway, with his facade on.

“Father?” Herscherik jumped out of his seat and made himself presentable before parting the mountain range of papers to move toward his living room. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Father. When Herscherik was living in his mother’s room in the royal quarters, his father was usually able to stop by on his way home from work. After he moved to the outer quarters, however, their schedules rarely lined up. As such, Herscherik had been seeing his father much less frequently. It was now a rare occasion for his father to come see him so late in the night—although this was earlier than when he was usually done with his duties. Perhaps he had cut his work short just to come see his youngest son. Once Herscherik realized that possibility, he couldn’t walk fast enough.

Oran watched Herscherik rush to the door, struck speechless by how the prince, who had just been discussing the concept of a red-light district with him, suddenly looked like a child his actual age. I really don’t get it... Oran thought. He wondered if every five-year-old child was like this or if Herscherik was the exception. Since even his youngest sister was not much younger than him, Oran had no frame of reference.

“Come here, Oránge!” a voice called from the living room, snapping Oran out of his thoughts. Come to think of it, he was about to meet Herscherik’s father for the first time—the king himself. Oran looked at himself, clad in another set of comfy street clothes. I wish I would have listened to the black dog and wore something just a little nicer. Kuro always had something to say about Oran wearing his street clothes. “As delinquent as you are, you’re Hersch’s knight. At least try to look presentable,” he’d said.

Presentable, huh...? Oran recalled what he had worn on his first day as Herscherik’s knight of service. He wasn’t going to wear that again. Then he thought of his uniform, which was tragically abandoned in his own room, inaccessible to him now. I mean... Technically, the prince is my boss. Oran resigned himself to his fate and stepped out of the office.

A calm voice greeted Oran into the living room. “You must be Octavian, General Aldis’s son. And now, Hersch’s knight of service.”

Oran looked up at the source of the voice, and words failed him.

Solye Gracis was standing before him, smiling, with his platinum hair that shone like concentrated moonlight and jade-like eyes that were just as soft and kind as Herscherik’s. His youthful beauty made the king look like he was still in his twenties, despite being in his forties.

Sure, I always thought that Prince Marx was good-looking, but... The royal patriarch far exceeded his offspring in the looks department. Oran had never been particularly fond of royalty, but that animosity nearly dissipated entirely upon facing the king’s beauty and his dazzling smile. My prince seems pretty ordinary now. Next to the king, Herscherik actually looked average—barely noteworthy at all. It wasn’t that Herscherik wasn’t good-looking—his face was definitely beautiful compared to the average boy—but Oran couldn’t help but feel a little relieved at how normal Herscherik looked in comparison to his father.

“Oránge...” Herscherik glared at the frozen Oran. “Father’s off-limits.”

Oran couldn’t comprehend the comment for a moment before realizing that his prince was still influenced by Oran’s interaction with the First Prince. Oran couldn’t help but feel defeated. What am I to him...? he thought, with a gloomy frown.

Herscherik burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

“Prince...” Oran stared the prince down with a begrudging look, which Herscherik answered with a wave.

Solye watched the interaction with a caring smile. “Great to see you two getting along. But... off-limits in what sense, Hersch?”

Herscherik shook his head. “Nothing! Father, would you like to have tea with us if you’re not too busy? Schwarz, do we have anything to snack on?”

“Yes, I’ll bring it right out.”

“I’ll help!” Herscherik followed Kuro out of the room. While the prince wouldn’t be much help, Kuro didn’t protest.

Silence fell between the two who were left behind, a silence which was finally broken by the king. “I hope Hersch hasn’t been asking too much of you.”

“No...” Oran answered, and another bout of silence followed. Th-This is awkward, he thought. He was facing the king of the nation, after all. While Oran was a noble, his was a house of knights. Naturally, he had trained in the sword more than in small talk. He had been out in high society a bit, so he wasn’t completely hopeless at holding a conversation, but...

“Hersch...” the king continued, as Oran’s heart raced. “...He’s rather unique, isn’t he?” The king asked a question that Oran found exceedingly difficult to answer. Any answer he could give seemed blasphemous. Oran kept silent, and the king chuckled in response. “Hersch is unlike any normal child. Not because he’s a prince, but because he’s Hersch.” Oran tilted his head in confusion. The king continued. “In a way, being born into royalty might have been a misfortune for him.”

Now Oran understood. He imagined that Herscherik would not really be a different person if he had been born into a house of nobles, knights, or even a family of commoners. He would lend a helping hand whenever he saw someone in need. He never needed any rationalization—he simply didn’t hesitate to help people, no matter who they were. He was the kind of person who acted on his own accord and not out of obligations to his status. “It’s my duty to protect my people,” the prince had said, and it was not an empty statement.

Those exact words explained what Solye meant by “misfortune.” Herscherik’s royal status had forcibly expanded the number of people he wanted to protect, putting him under unimaginable pressure. Even so, Herscherik had naturally accepted all of this as simply the way things were.

“I can’t tell you how happy, and how proud, I am that Hersch is my son, but...” Solye voice grew faint. “I have put so much weight on his shoulders.” He looked into Oran’s eyes. “I need you to protect him. From everything. Above all else... ah, some king I am. I can’t even do something as simple as that.” The look in Solye’s eyes wasn’t that of a king, but of a father who cared for his son.

Silence engulfed the room once more, this time without the awkwardness. Just as Oran opened his mouth, the prince and the butler returned with the tea, preventing the knight from saying anything to the king.

Having sneaked out into the castle town with his butler and knight of service, Herscherik was taken aback by the fact that he was no longer aware of where he was. After turning numerous dark alley corners and squeezing through spaces between houses, the only thing he knew for sure was that he was somewhere in the capital. With Kuro leading the way and Oran following behind him, Herscherik tried his best to keep up with the other two, both of whose strides were considerably longer than his.

“How far are we going, Kuro...?” Herscherik finally asked, defeated by the long walk through the alleyways without any change in scenery. Exploring the castle town under the guise of a fun covert mission was one thing, but he wasn’t fond of the endless cycle of putting one foot in front of the other without even knowing why. Truth be told, Herscherik felt like he couldn’t afford to waste a single minute in the day.

“We’re almost there,” Kuro simply answered, despite being fully aware of his master’s distress.

And how many times have you told me that...? Herscherik thought. We don’t have time for a leisurely stroll through the back alleys. He let out a sigh behind Kuro’s back. Since the day after his father’s visit, the three had been splitting up to go talk to the family of the victims and other people mentioned in the incident reports. Just as Herscherik had guessed, most of the victims and perpetrators suspected of drug abuse belonged to nobility, or at least wealthy families, and the higher the status of the individual, the more likely they were to totally conceal all evidence of drug use. That being said, their hesitation to disclose the details was practically an admission in and of itself. Most of their family and friends were equally reticent, which only served as more evidence to back up Herscherik’s hypothesis. Still, that hypothesis was yet to be elevated to a conclusion for lack of actual solid evidence.

Kuro and Oran had even gone to investigate the red-light district. I’m sure they could use a little break from all that work, work, work, the prince had thought, so he encouraged them to “have a fun night” on their way out. For some reason, Kuro dug his fist into Herscherik’s head as Oran scolded him, saying, “Don’t say things like that! You’re a child!”

I thought I was being a cool boss! Herscherik wondered why this was happening to him, having forgotten that he was a five-year-old—which happened from time to time. Not that he would recommend a fun night at the red-light district to anyone other than Kuro and Oran, but their reaction was entirely natural for people who had just heard something like that come out of a five-year-old’s mouth.

The three continued their investigation, using every method available to them—from verifying documents to good old legwork—until Kuro had requested his master and the knight accompany him to a particular location, making sure to mention that it was important. To this end, he had led them out into town.

Finally, Kuro came to a halt. “We’re here,” he announced. They’d arrived at a location that was steeped in shadow despite it being midday, down an alleyway narrow enough that Herscherik could reach out and touch the walls on either side of him. Kuro pointed to a door small enough that an adult would have to crouch to get through it.

It’s like that door in Wonderland that Alice goes through. Herscherik recalled a picture book that Ryoko had read when she was a child, a story about a girl following a white rabbit down a hole into a strange world. If it had been published in the modern day, it would have probably been categorized as an isekai. Ryoko had read the story over and over, daydreaming about her adventures in that world. Herscherik wondered if Ryoko had been predestined to grow up an otaku from such a young age and couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic.

The door before him now, however, was still bigger than the one in the picture book. Kuro opened it and walked in; Herscherik followed to find a set of descending stairs. As they walked down these stairs, they were able to straighten up from their hunched position going through the door and noticed the incense-like smell growing thicker. The scent was rich, but Herscherik didn’t mind it.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Kuro opened another door that awaited them there. “I brought them with me, Oracle.”

“It took you longer than I thought...” an enchanting female voice answered.

The room beyond the door, despite being underground, had plenty of elbow room for the three guests. Herscherik hadn’t expected the room to be this spacious after squeezing through the tiny door and climbing down that narrow staircase. Now that his curiosity was piqued, he looked around the room. Shelves lined the walls, filled with old books and mysterious-looking objects. Incense burned everywhere, filling the room with smoke that made the lamplight flicker mysteriously. A woman, the source of the enchanting voice, sat comfortably on a sofa, with a table between her and the three guests at the door. On the table sat a crystal ball.

A fortune teller? It was only natural for Herscherik to guess that. She had dark skin that looked even darker in the dimly lit room and long, straight hair that spilled over the sofa, looking almost as translucent as the lamp-lit purple crystal ball. Her right eye was pink and her left eye was gold. A beauty mark under her right eye further accentuated her allure. Her attire resembled that of a middle-eastern dancer, and Herscherik was reminded of The Arabian Nights. A translucent veil, though it did not completely hide her mouth, added to her mysterious allure. She seemed glaringly foreign in this (by the standards of Ryoko’s world) Western country. More pressingly, Herscherik couldn’t look away from a particular body part of hers.

They’re incredible... Herscherik’s eyes were locked on to a pair of voluptuous breasts on the verge of cascading out of her clothes. The twin peaks before him were shattering his prior belief that such a large bust could only exist in fiction. As a former woman, Herscherik knew full well that size alone did not a picturesque bosom make. The overall size of the chest had to be complimented by a proportional cup size, as well as just the right amount of firmness, all supported by a curvy waist. All elements had to be in complete harmony to form flawless breasts like hers. Of course, all of that was nothing more than Herscherik’s personal thesis on breasts. There were probably many different opinions, all equally valid.

I am so jealous! Women often admired a beautiful example of their own sex, too. Ryoko’s body had been the embodiment of Japanese flatness, except the protrusions in all the wrong places from her poor lifestyle choices. She’d turned giving up on her diet after a week into an art form.

“Are you the Seventh Prince?” Being addressed as the prince made Herscherik look up from the woman’s much-too-spectacular bosom. She flashed him an alluring smile. “A pleasure to meet you. I am known as the Oracle.”

“My name is Herscherik. Nice to meet you, too.” Maybe she’s born with it... Maybe I love it! Herscherik was internally dancing. He had always loved beautiful people, men and women both, even in his previous life... Strictly for observational purposes, of course.

“You’re the prince who tamed Shadow Fang... You look more like a girl to me.” Her inquisitive gaze made Herscherik rather uncomfortable. While her eyes only shone with curiosity, Herscherik didn’t like when the observational tables were turned. Oran asked Kuro who “Shadow Fang” was, but the butler remained silent. Then, the woman’s prying eyes widened for a brief moment before narrowing in satisfaction. “Oh, I see. You are a girl. How interesting. Incredibly interesting.”

Herscherik tilted his head. “Um. I may not look it, but I promise I’m a boy...”

“It’s all right, little girl.” The Oracle laughed off Herscherik’s protest with the wave of her hand.

“Oracle. I bring the prince, you give us the tip. That was the deal,” Kuro spat out. Herscherik looked up at him, unable to follow. Kuro’s eyes wandered for a bit, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he let out a defeated sigh. “There was so little information on the drug, so I thought I’d buy a tip from the Oracle. She told me to bring you, Hersch.”

The Oracle only cared for profit, which was why Kuro gave a shot at knocking on her door. But this time, she gave the stipulation that he bring the prince. In fact, this was the first stipulation the Oracle had ever given Kuro in any of their deals. It was plain to see that he never wanted to bring the prince here at all, but he had made the decision that not bringing him along would be even worse for the prince.

“Now pay up, Oracle,” Kuro demanded.

“Let me see...” The Oracle’s slender finger traced the outline of her face from her cheek down to her jaw. Her nails were neatly painted, the glitter in the paint refracting the lamplight. After a prolonged beat, the Oracle smirked. “A hundred white gold coins sounds about right.”

“What?!” Kuro and Oran reacted in unison.

A hundred white gold coins is like winning the lottery and both one-off prizes... Herscherik quickly converted the currency into Japanese yen in his head. With the assumption that one bronze coin in this world equated to ten yen, a single white gold coin was worth ten million yen. 100 white gold coins, then, was a billion yen. Who could have blamed Herscherik for letting his mind wander away from such an utterly outrageous number?

“Going back on the deal?” Kuro’s voice lowered in pitch.

Since Herscherik knew that Kuro’s voice only became so low and cold when he was genuinely furious, he braced himself to rein in his butler.

Before he could, however, the unperturbed voice of the Oracle cut through the tension. “Oh? I remember telling you that I’ll put my card on the table once you bring the prince—not that I’d give it away for free. I always demand an even exchange. This particular card can save a nation. If the price seems exorbitant, it’s only because you don’t see how important this piece of information truly is.” The Oracle met Kuro’s piercing glare with a taunting smile.

“Lives are at stake, here...” Oran spoke up with audible anger.

The Oracle scoffed at it. “That has nothing to do with me. I’m not from here. It’s none of my business how many people die. If this country goes down, I’ll find somewhere else.”

“Wha—?!” Oran was speechless.

The Oracle turned to Herscherik. “What will you do, little girl? I’m not going any lower than a hundred white gold coins. Up front, of course. There’s no point in trying to order me around, by the way. Like I said, I’m not a citizen of this country. I have no obligation to follow any orders from you.”

Herscherik closed his eyes in contemplation. No matter how far he reached, he couldn’t think of a way to come up with that kind of money. “I can’t figure out how to get the money, so we won’t be able to buy your tip.”

“Prince!” Oran’s call echoed in the room. Was the prince really going to give up on this information? With a hand on the hilt of his sword, Oran looked like he was ready to put the sharp end into the Oracle.

Herscherik stopped him with a look and added, “But I think you should pay us.”

“Pay... you?” The Oracle lost her confident smile for the first time as a frown took its place.

“Miss Oracle,” the prince began. “Kuro has brought us here at your request. I’ve come all this way, even though every second counts in this circumstance. Our time is precious to us. I think all of that is worth more than just hearing your asking price, don’t you? Not exactly an ‘even exchange’ as it stands right now.” Herscherik calmly laid all of this out—behind his smile, he had just demanded the Oracle pay her own price.

She fell silent for a few beats, until a muffled laughter began to pour from her mouth. The laughter soon grew louder, and the room rang with the woman’s amusement. Before long, the Oracle was doubled over, clutching her stomach as she laughed. She slammed the table in front of her with so much force that the guests were almost concerned that she would break it. All the while, her generous endowments quivered along with the rest of her. Herscherik couldn’t help but sneak an envious glance at her boisterous bosom.

“Yes! Amazing, little girl! It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything like this! I’d forgotten how good it feels!” the Oracle said, tears of laughter forming in her mismatched eyes. She got her breathing under control before continuing. “You’re right, little girl. That wouldn’t be an even exchange. I’ll give you a little hint, then.” She straightened herself out and closed her eyes. After a moment of silence, she opened her eyes ever so slightly. “Past and present. Expectations and reality. And the one in the midst of it all.” Her riddle only made Herscherik tilt his head. The Oracle chuckled. “I might have told you too much. You’ll have to figure out the rest for yourself.” You should be able to do that much, she seemed to insinuate. She had paid them fairly for their time.

“Okay. Thank you, Miss Oracle,” Herscherik answered.

As she gave them a dismissive wave, the three turned to leave. Then she called from behind them. “Oh, you stay, little girl. The men can wait outside.” Kuro sharply glanced at her again, but Herscherik convinced him to do as the Oracle said. Then, he and the Oracle were alone together in her room.

“I don’t make a habit of giving humans advice,” she began. Her left eye seemed to glow for a moment, but Herscherik dismissed it. It must have been the lighting. “You are a light. Many people will see you as a ray of hope.” Her tone had become solemn, in contrast to how she had spoken before. Herscherik was slightly taken aback by the change, but the Oracle didn’t miss a beat. “You will come to many crossroads in your life... times you will be forced to make a grave decision. Make the wrong choice, and you will lose something dear to you. You might lose something even if you make the right choice.” Her eyes met Herscherik’s. “Are you still willing to go down that path?”

Herscherik closed his eyes. I don’t know what dear things she is talking about, but... He opened his eyes and stared the Oracle down. He gave his answer.

The Oracle widened her eyes for an instant before giving an alluring chuckle. “You really are interesting, little girl.” She gazed up at the ceiling and seemingly through it. After thinking a moment, she added, “I’ll give you a little bonus. Make sure you don’t lose that pocket watch of yours. It will help you along the way like nothing else will.”

And with that, the Oracle shooed Herscherik out. With another word of thanks, he left the room to be greeted by the concerned Kuro and Oran. Just then, Herscherik recalled what the Oracle had just told him. Did I ever show her my watch? he wondered.

However, that little question had faded from his mind by the time the party arrived at their next destination.