Chapter Six: The Orphanage, the Baron, and the Epiphany

After leaving the Oracle, Herscherik and his men exited the alleyway into a main street, which happened to be near the orphanage where Oran and his fiancée had once volunteered.

“Want to stop by the orphanage?” Herscherik offered. While he knew about the existence of the orphanage and its location from one of his secret trips into the castle town, Herscherik had never actually been there. Besides, the sun was still high, leaving them with plenty of time in the day.

“I haven’t been there in a while...” Oran said, furrowing his brows. When his fiancée was alive, she had visited the orphanage four or five times a week. Oran had gone with her at least once a week to help out with any heavy lifting or manual labor. After her death, however, he couldn’t stand to even see the place for a few months, since it reminded him so strongly of her. Even after that, he only went once or twice a month, and for very short visits. After being appointed knight of service, Oran had been too busy with his new duties during the day—and recently even at night—to visit the place. More accurately, he had been avoiding a place filled with memories of his fiancée.

Now, Oran took one deep breath. He couldn’t run from this forever. He had vowed to face his past. As if trying to leave something behind him, Oran began leading the way for his master and the butler.

The orphanage stood at the edge of the residential area. As the little group passed under the rust-spotted metal gate and approached the old stonework building, they could hear the voices of children from the open windows.

“You came back!” A girl of about Herscherik’s age greeted them. She had brown hair and big round eyes of the same color, and she ran out of the door to the building and into Oran’s arms without hesitation. “It’s been so long!” she excitedly declared, her whole body showing her joy.

“You look like you’re doing well, Colette. How’s everyone?”

“Good!” She tilted her neck as she spotted Herscherik and Kuro. “Who are they...?”

Herscherik gave a bright smile as to not scare her. “My name is Ryoko. This is Kuro. We’re Oran’s... Um, your friend’s friends.” Herscherik said this as cheerily as possible, but the girl still hid behind Oran. Erm. I guess I didn’t make a good impression... Herscherik couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, especially given how well Ryoko had always gotten along with her little niece.

“Octavian! It’s been too long!” A man in his fifties came out of the same door the girl had. His white hair still sported a few dark strands here and there, and he seemed unusually thin. That being said, he looked to be a noble, as he was clad in considerably well-made clothes.

“Long time no see, Baron Armin.”

“We’ve been worried about you since you haven’t showed up in so long... Are you all done with your work, Colette?”

Colette snapped out of it, shaking her head before going back into the building. Just before she made it inside, she turned around and gave a little wave. Herscherik answered with a smile and a wave, but the girl hurriedly turned the corner. Guess she doesn’t like me...

As Herscherik was disappointed further, the baron gave him an inquisitive look. “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” the baron asked. Herscherik was obviously of high rank, and Kuro had changed out of his all-black spy garb into a well-tailored outfit. Neither of them looked like the type who would be casually stopping by an orphanage.

“A son of the family I’m working for,” Oran explained, foregoing the “friend” excuse. This description was mostly true, save for the fact that Herscherik belonged to the royal family and that he actually worked for Herscherik himself. Oran’s appointment as a knight of service was not widespread knowledge outside of the castle proper. If he had been appointed to serve the First or Second Prince, people might have showed some interest as to the identity of that prince’s new right-hand man;. however, as Herscherik was the youngest and most forgettable of the lot, his men of service were as uninteresting to the public as he was. It was easy to believe that this baron, who seemed rather isolated from high society, wasn’t privy to Oran’s current occupation. “He was interested in the orphanage, so I accompanied him here. I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead.”

“Ah, I see.” Baron Armin nodded and turned to Herscherik before greeting him with a thorough bow. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Armin, and I’m technically a noble—a baron, to be precise. May I ask for your name, my lord?”

Herscherik answered the baron’s gentle look with a smile. He had gotten the impression that this baron was a kind man. “My name is Ryoko. I’m sorry for barging in out of the blue.” I still can’t tell you I’m a prince, though, Herscherik silently added as he bowed in response. He had sneaked out of the castle via the usual hidden passage, so disclosing his real name would have caused all sorts of problems.

“Lord Ryoko.”

“No need for that; I’m just a kid. Oh, and this is Kuro behind me. He... keeps an eye on me.”

Kuro gave a disgruntled look at this introduction but didn’t protest. It would have been unheard of for a noble Herscherik’s age to have his own butler, so this was the best excuse he could muster.

“Allow me to give you a tour.” The baron led the way, his three guests in tow.

The interior of the orphanage was much cleaner and more well-maintained than Herscherik had imagined—he had expected a decrepit building infested with scuttling mice.

“Right now we have twenty children living here in all. Twelve boys and eight girls.” The baron began giving a spiel about the orphanage as he led them through the building. “None of them have anywhere else to go. Some have lost their parents, while others were abandoned here because their parents couldn’t afford to raise a child.”

“What made you open an orphanage, Baron Armin?” Herscherik asked.

“My wife started this operation, actually... We weren’t blessed with children of our own.” The baron went on to explain that his wife had always wanted children but found that she was infertile, so she wanted to help as many children as possible by opening an orphanage dedicated to providing for the less fortunate. “It may seem to others like we’re using the orphans to make up for the lack of our own family, but...”

Just then, children came running down the hall from ahead. They seemed to be a little younger than Herscherik.

“Mister Armin, will you stay with us until bedtime?”

“Mister Armin!”

The children playfully surrounded the baron.

“Yes, I will,” he answered.

“Will you read us a story before we go to bed?”

“Will you?”

The older child asked the questions, and the younger mimicked him. After the Baron agreed, they gleefully ran off.

“...My wife and I have never considered them anything but our own children. My wife herself departed to the Garden Above a few years ago, but I wanted to preserve this place that always meant so much to her,” the baron said, waving at the children as they ran off.

“I think both you and your wife seem like wonderful people,” Herscherik reassured him. It sounded like the baron really loved the children here like his own kin. Herscherik didn’t see this as the baron using the orphans to take the place of the family he never had, and even if that were the baron’s intentions, it wouldn’t detract from the fact that he had obviously raised these children to be healthy and happy. Even if the baron had some ulterior motives, good deeds selfishly performed were much better for the world than selfless inaction.

The baron smiled at this reply, but a shadow lingered on his expression. “Is something the matter...?” Herscherik asked, picking up on the subtle shift in the baron’s demeanor.

After a moment of being taken aback, the baron answered. “Lately, I’ve been struggling to keep this place afloat. It’s affecting what I can give the children, too...”

“What? Is there no aid coming from the government?” Herscherik recalled a budget sheet he had come across in the castle. Aid for all orphanages was definitely included under social programs.

“Yes, but it’s a mere drop in the bucket.”

Drop in the bucket? Herscherik tilted his head in suspicion. It was a small amount of aid, but it was still enough to keep an orphanage of only twenty children from going under. Besides, if it wasn’t enough, there was a process to request additional funds. It was clear to see that this orphanage wasn’t squandering any government money, so Herscherik couldn’t imagine them not being approved for additional aid.

But then, another possibility crossed Herscherik’s mind. Is the aid money being embezzled before it reaches them? Herscherik wanted to collapse at the thought of this entirely plausible theory, considering the current state of affairs in the castle. An established budget not being followed meant that the extra money was most likely being pocketed. It was also possible that any request for additional aid was being brushed under the rug at some point in the bureaucracy.

“Thanks to the generous support of a church, we’re making ends meet for the time being. When Octavian and his—” The baron stopped himself and looked at Oran. “I’m sorry, Octavian. I know it’s a painful memory...”

“It’s all right.” Oran chuckled, but Herscherik saw that he wasn’t as unbothered as he tried to sound. It looked like Oran laughed to conceal his pain. Then, Herscherik wondered if he himself would remain sane if anyone close to him were gravely hurt or killed. Could he act in consideration of others like Oran just did? If Father, or anyone else in my family, or Kuro, or Oran were killed...? Herscherik imagined what he would do if any of them, or any other people he grew to love in this world, were killed. He felt something icy drip down and pool in the pit of his heart.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was expecting another guest today. Please excuse me.” The baron’s voice snapped Herscherik out of his thoughts. He felt the frozen place in his heart dissipate at the same time. “Please feel free to visit any part of the orphanage,” the baron added, hurriedly walking away.

Herscherik watched the baron leave with a stiffened expression. What was I...?

“Something wrong, Hersch?” Kuro whispered, noticing that the boy seemed unusually quiet.

“No, not at all.” Herscherik gave a slightly forced smile to dismiss Kuro’s concern. I’ll think about all that later, he told himself and dismissed that fading emotion just like he did to Kuro.

“Here’s the work room,” Oran called back to Herscherik and Kuro, as they had stopped in their tracks.

Oran showed them to a room where the oldest of the orphans were chatting as they worked. They seemed to be wrapping boxes of candy and chocolate.

“They wrap these up here and sell them on the streets. They use the revenue to help run the orphanage,” Oran explained.

As the children kept themselves busy with their tasks, one of the girls looked up at them.

“Hi!” called Colette, the girl they had met earlier. She gleefully ran up to Oran, which drew the attention of the other children in the room, and they jumped out of their seats.

“No way! It’s been, like, forever!”

“How are you? Did you ever get to be a knight?”

“When are you going to teach me sword fighting like you promised?!”

Oran smiled at each greeting, ruffling the hair on all of their heads. It was clear to see that he was like their cool older brother who’d gone on to be a knight. His rather downturned eyes made him look less threatening, despite his tall stature. All in all, Oran was clearly great with children.

“Where is she? She never comes to see us anymore...” someone older than Colette remarked.

A look of pain flashed over Oran’s face before he immediately replaced it with his usual smile. “She had to go somewhere far away,” he said. “I’m sorry. She can’t come see you guys anymore.” The children reacted with audible disappointment.

I’m sure they’re talking about Oran’s fiancée, Herscherik figured. Oran and his fiancée must have helped this orphanage enough to gain the children’s adoration.

“Hey! We still have work to do!” someone shouted from across the room. It was a boy, who seemed to be the oldest one there.

Herscherik turned to the voice to find a boy with short indigo hair and determined black eyes. There were three lines scored into his left cheek that resembled a claw mark. He was taller than Herscherik and obviously older.

“I’m sorry, Rick,” one of the children answered. Rick huffed and went back to work, and the other children returned to their own tasks.

“Can I help?” Herscherik asked, moving to pick up one of the final products to get a closer look.

“Don’t touch that! You noble brat!” Rick shouted again. It sounded more hateful than cautionary. “Must be real funny to some high and mighty noble boy, seeing us doing all this to make less money than you probably carry in your pocket,” he mockingly added.

“Stop it, Rick!” Colette interjected before Herscherik had a chance to say anything. She ran up to Herscherik and apologetically bowed. “I’m sorry, Rick can be so mean... Um, Lord Ryoko?”

“Just call me Ryoko, Colette.” Herscherik smiled. Colette blushed a bit and averted her gaze to conceal it. Oblivious to her reaction, Herscherik pointed at one of the wrapped bags. “You sell these?”

Colette nodded. “Yep. We neatly pack sweets, or do a little sewing... We make a little bit of money when we sell them, and the money goes to the orphanage. Some nobles buy a lot of them.” Colette smiled proudly.

Still, Herscherik couldn’t help but feel bitter, knowing that these children wouldn’t have to do this sort of work in the first place if only their country wasn’t corrupt.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” the baron said as he returned. “Is something the matter?”

Herscherik shook his head. I’m still powerless... Despite that crippling emotion, there was no shade of resignation in his eyes.

Moonlight illuminated the dark night outside the window, whereas the room was brightly lit by Floating Magic-powered lights. Herscherik and his men had made it back to his room without issue after leaving the orphanage and sneaking back into the castle through the hidden passage. Now, the three of them were openly displaying their distress with the current situation in their own ways.

“All of that work for nothing... It’s tough,” Herscherik muttered, crossing his legs on the sofa by the window. They hadn’t gained any useful information from the Oracle, and the only thing Herscherik had accomplished at the orphanage was reminding himself of how powerless he was.

“It doesn’t make sense that we still don’t have much to show for all our efforts,” Kuro agreed.

Even Kuro can’t get his hands on any more information. And we’ve still got no physical evidence... They were sure of the drug’s involvement this time around, as they were sure of what had happened two years ago, but they couldn’t follow up on any of their discoveries. The situation was extremely suspicious, considering the only missing records were all related to this drug. Herscherik assumed that someone very powerful had to be involved, but ultimately it was nothing more than an assumption. In fact, the only solid piece of evidence he had for the involvement of the same drug in the incidents two years ago and those occurring now was the tip provided to them by Roland, Oran’s father. Even that tip was given off the record, and Herscherik had only coincidentally come across it because he’d hired Oran, who happened to have had a run-in with this drug two years ago. That, and he’d happened to stumble across the madman with a sword in the castle town. As the incident in the castle town was currently under investigation, there was no way for Herscherik to check on its progress. There was a chance that it, too, would be swept under the rug just like everything else.

“Like it never even happened... Dammit!” Oran growled with frustration.

Herscherik let out a sigh. “Like it never even happened...” Speaking of, where did the money budgeted for the orphanages go? Setting aside funds for a just cause was pointless if that money was simply embezzled instead. Herscherik was outraged at the disarray of the nation’s finances all over again. If I were in charge, I’d set budgets according to past needs and performance, then I’d strictly audit everything, including expenses...

Just then, Herscherik was reminded of what the Oracle had told him. “Past and present. Expectations and reality. And the one in the midst of it all.” A bolt of inspiration. Herscherik leapt off of the sofa and dashed into his office. There, he rummaged through the mountains of paperwork to find the documents he was after and laid them out on his office desk.

“...I thought so.”

“Hersch?” Kuro called from beyond the open door. Both he and Oran had remained in the other room, puzzled by Herscherik’s sudden rush.

“Come in here, both of you! Hurry!” Herscherik waved them into the room and pointed at the documents. They listed each department’s annual expenses for the past five years. Notably, the fiscal year of this country began and ended in the spring, the equivalent of April to March in Ryoko’s world. “Two years ago was the only year this department stayed on budget.” The department Herscherik indicated was labeled “Research.”

Oran tilted his head. “If they stayed on budget, what’s the problem?”

“It’s usually good news. But it is out of the ordinary.” Herscherik showed a different document to the two men. “Research went way over budget every other year. “

Budgets were determined based on expenses from the previous year. If a department spent less than its budget one year, their budget would usually be slashed the next year. So, it was common business practice for most departments of a corporation or government to use up their entire budget, even when they didn’t need it.

Ryoko used to watch the occasional news story on wasteful spending in the government back in Japan. Local governments, for example, purchased unnecessary supplies in order to use up their remaining budget. If the national government determined their budget to be excessive, they would cut the budget for the upcoming year, leaving the local government with fewer funds available should they need it. This was why budgets were often stretched to the limit basically everywhere. Even at Ryoko’s office, there had been times when departments tried to waste leftover money in the event they were under budget. When that happened, Ryoko promptly notified her boss, leading to the department head writing up a report and preventing the overspending.

“It’s so suspicious that it happened only in this particular year.” For some reason, the year when the drug was in circulation was also the only year the Department of Research stayed within their budget. This could have just been the result of the staff’s hard work, but Herscherik couldn’t shrug it off so easily. “I missed it because I was always looking at just their expenses.”

Research wasn’t something that usually went according to plan, anyway. Success was never guaranteed, and even a successful research project didn’t guarantee fast return on their investment. It was in its nature to require more money than expected. Any cut in the budget would cause riots in every subdivision of the department. In fact, the annual expenses for every year but the one in question exceeded their budget, which lead to obvious fluctuations from year to year—indicative of a fierce battle between the treasury and Research.

The past and present are the data, Herscherik thought. Expectation and reality means the budget and expenses. Retracing the Oracle’s riddle, he scoured the documents before him. I found a point of suspicion, just like the Oracle said. But how does it connect to the drug? The only thing left...

Herscherik rummaged through the documents he had on the Department of Research. Just as in the report, the expenses for the year in question were kept under budget. It was either because of the hard work of its employees, or...

This is it! Herscherik slammed his hands onto the document on his desk. That drew the attention of his men, but Herscherik kept his eyes fixed on the document. “The Magical Chemistry Lab. Their expenses are incredibly low. Unbelievably low. These invoices...” Herscherik produced a few expense reports from the Magical Chemistry Lab that were dated from spring to summer of the year in question. A few technical terms, which Herscherik didn’t understand, were accompanied by product names, prices, and quantities. Then, he pulled out the same set of documents from the previous year. “These prices are completely different from last year’s. Is that even possible?” Herscherik showed the documents to his men.

“Not a chance,” Oran grumbled at the document and handed it to Kuro.

“Market price is two times that... Some of these are rare, but if I was able to get them for this low, I’d sell them for a major profit.” Kuro handed the paper back to Herscherik.

He nodded in agreement. In short, the suspiciously low annual expense of the Magical Chemistry Lab that year had remained under budget, evening itself out with all of the other years, which made the discrepancy harder to detect. The Magical Chemistry Lab, a subdivision of Research. The one in the midst of it all. I get it. It was just as the Oracle had said. I was too focused on criminal cases the whole time. The situation had started with a criminal case, so he had been fixated on investigating that front.

While the Oracle’s hint had helped him notice it, this was something that Herscherik could have realized himself if he had only paid closer attention to the documents he had. I have to be better. Herscherik renewed his resolve. Next time, he wouldn’t have a hint from the Oracle. One oversight could cost many lives—lives that he could have saved.

However, Herscherik concealed his self-admonishment and shifted his focus to the future. What’s done is done. Now, all that mattered was how he could use his mistake to improve.

“Then there’s the time of year when they made these suspicious purchases,” Herscherik added as the other two were comparing documents. It had been in the spring and summer, two years ago—the exact same time frame as the initial circulation of the drug. “If they got such low prices by offering their vendors a different avenue of profit...” There had to have been some under-the-table deal. If so, what were they dealing with? Considering that the discounted items were expensive herbs, a considerable amount of money or goods must have changed hands.

Herscherik considered the worst-case scenario. “Was the drug developed... in the castle?” The lab could have offered the formula for the drug that they’d developed in exchange for greatly discounted materials. Naturally, whoever orchestrated the exchange must have taken their own cut, and if that someone was a government worker, the resulting cut to their expenses would have looked good on their yearly evaluation. They would have killed two birds with one stone. What’s worse, any leaked research data could threaten the entire nation, let alone the Department of Research. If the constabulary was pressured to cover things up by their superiors, they would not have had any other choice but to obey, which would explain why the incident reports were so lackluster.

That being said, all of this was still only a theory. If I can find something to tie this deal to the string of drug-related incidents. Now that a hypothesis had been stated, Herscherik had to find evidence to back it up. The problem was that the reports at the constabulary were unreliable, and there didn’t seem to be any more information he could dig out from these expense and budget reports. Then our next target has to be...

Herscherik turned to his butler. “Kuro, I want you to go to Legislation.”

“What should I look for?” Kuro astutely asked. He didn’t bother to ask why.

“The directory of officials who worked at Research, two years ago. Preferably with a list of people who worked in Magical Chemistry and documents that show staff turnover. And if you can find out who was in charge of Research’s finances over at the treasury, that would be great. Oh, and the person in the constabulary who was in charge of drug investigations.” Herscherik figured that only those within Research could have leaked their findings and that someone at the treasury might have turned a blind eye to documentation that had surrounded the deal. Then, if he could find out who worked the case at the constabulary, he could follow the chain of command up to the very top. “I want all info from the treasury on vendors who had dealings with Research at the time.”

“Got it.” Kuro left the room without a sound.

Herscherik then turned to Oran. “Oran, I want you to remember as many people as you can who interacted with you and your fiancée two years ago. I’m sure one of them is the link between what happened then and what’s happening now.”

“All right,” Oran agreed.

But... Herscherik couldn’t help but feel something tug at the back of his mind as he began to stack the papers on his desk. There’s something more. A strange sensation nagged at him, like a fish bone was caught between his teeth. Herscherik couldn’t shake the feeling that he had missed something until Kuro finally returned from his mission.