Necessary Procedures

Rovi walked at the front.

He wasn't wearing the robe that marked him as a Rank 4 Scribe.

Instead, he had changed into a spare Defense Force coat, its collar turned up to cover half his face.

He walked steadily.

Every step seemed precisely calculated.

"Esteemed Advisor."

Buck followed slightly behind him.

The One-Eyed Commander kept his finger outside the trigger guard of his Boltgun, the red warning light in his artificial eye flashing.

"Isn't this a little too conspicuous? They've got heavy bolter turrets over at the Executive Council."

"Conspicuous?"

Rovi didn't look back.

His voice came muffled through the collar of his coat, yet remained exceptionally calm. "Buck, what do you think we're doing?"

"Uh, staging a mutiny?" Buck swallowed.

He was a rough sort, but even he knew what it meant to storm a government institution with fifty thousand men.

"Wrong."

Rovi stopped and turned around.

There wasn't a trace of fervor in his dark brown eyes, only the calm of an icy lake.

"We're following procedure."

He pulled out the charred Amulet Fragment, sealed in a bag and wrapped in layer after layer.

Even through the bag, its nauseating, twisted aura could still be felt.

"When an administrative supervisor is suspected of colluding with heretics and attempting to destroy the Imperium's source of Imperial Tithe—

Under Section 44, Clause 7 of the Ministry of the Interior's Wartime Emergency Regulations, every loyal citizen of the Imperium has a duty to help control the situation until the Ordo intervenes."

With that, Rovi put the Amulet back in the inner pocket close to his chest.

It was lined with several layers of lead.

"We're not rioters, Buck. We're whistleblowers, witnesses, the cornerstone of the Imperium's laws."

Rovi straightened his collar.

"These fifty thousand aren't going to fight. They're going to 'observe the proceedings.' With more people, they'll hear better."

Buck stared for a moment, then grinned, baring his uneven yellow teeth.

"Damn, I like your kind of bookworm. You make killing sound like filling out a form."

"There's no difference in essence," Rovi said flatly. "Both are about eliminating erroneous data."

He raised his hand and glanced at his Brass Pocket Watch.

The second hand ticked on.

"Let's go. Supervisor Kase must be getting impatient."

The Executive Council building.

This Gothic structure towered over the middle of the Slums.

Its outer walls were carved with suffering saints and the roaring Imperial Aquila.

After years of acid rain, the saints' faces had grown indistinct.

The Aquila's wings were coated in black grime.

In his top-floor office, Kase was trembling.

It was a shudder that came from deep within his soul, more piercing than any cold.

He clutched a glass of Amasec Wine.

The expensive liquor had spilled onto the velvet carpet, but he didn't even notice.

Outside the window, a gray sea was drawing closer.

Fifty thousand people.

A full fifty thousand!

If they were just a mob, Kase wouldn't have been afraid.

He had autocannons, a private guard, and poison-gas sprayers.

With the push of a button, those wretches would fall like wheat.

But these people were different.

They were too quiet.

Their uniform silence and strict discipline reminded Kase of an Imperial Guard parade.

What terrified him even more was the young man at the front.

That Rovi who had once been meek and obsequious before him, lowering his head to copy ledger after ledger.

"Those useless fools, those useless fools!"

Kase hurled his glass against the wall, sending shards flying.

"Didn't you say it was foolproof? Didn't you say it was a blessing from the Pious Father? How did a lousy Harvester burn it to ash?!"

"Supervisor."

The black-robed man's voice came from the shadows, tinged with panic.

"We underestimated him. His understanding of machinery is almost heretical. A normal Harvester couldn't possibly have that kind of destructive power."

"What use is any of that now!" Kase roared, the fat on his face quivering. "He's here, and he brought an army! He must have found something!"

"We still have a chance," the black-robed man said in a sinister tone. "Just kill him, and this rabble will scatter. You can claim he incited a riot and you shot him on the spot."

"Right... right, kill him."

Kase nodded repeatedly, rushed to his desk, and pressed the red button on the communicator.

"All guards, attention! All guards, attention! Target: Rovi. Kill him on sight as soon as he enters range! I repeat, kill him on sight!"

Only static crackled through the communicator.

There was no response.

"Hello? Hello! This is Kase!"

Still no response.

"This can't be..." Kase slumped into his chair, cold sweat soaking through his silk shirt.

"Nothing is impossible."

The office's heavy oak doors swung open.

There was no violent breaching, no hail of gunfire.

The hinges groaned as they turned.

Rovi walked in.

There was no army behind him.

Only Buck and two fully armed Defense Force soldiers.

Rovi took off his dust-covered coat and casually handed it to the soldier beside him, revealing the badge on his chest that marked him as a "Special Advisor."

His movements were natural, as if he had come home.

"Good morning, Supervisor Kase."

Rovi walked up to the desk, pulled out a hardwood chair, and sat down.

It was the seat usually reserved for people reporting to Kase.

He sat upright, hands folded over his knees, and calmly regarded the mountain of flesh crumpled into the oversized executive chair.

"You... you..."

Kase pointed at Rovi, his finger trembling like that of a Parkinson's patient. "Where are the guards? Where are my guards?"

"They're downstairs, keeping order."

Rovi's tone was even.

"Fifty thousand agitated farmworkers have gathered downstairs. To prevent a stampede, I had Commander Buck take over your guards and help direct the crowd.

"Your guard captain was quite reasonable. After reading a document on the 'Transfer of Wartime Command,' he cooperated fully."

Buck had held his Boltgun to the guard captain's head while making him "read" it.

Of course, there was no need to mention that detail.

"Are you trying to rebel, Rovi!" Kase shrieked, trying to drown out his fear with sheer volume.

"I'm a supervisor appointed by the Executive Council! I'm a noble! You're nothing but a lowly Scribe!"

"Allow me to correct you."

Rovi took a document from his coat and placed it gently on the desk.

"I'm the Governor's Mansion's Special Agricultural Advisor, as well as the Seventh Diocese's Honorary Tech-Priest."

He paused, his gaze passing over Kase to the black-robed man hiding in the shadows.

"Also, I'm a witness to and the handler of this serious heretical incursion."

At the words "heretical incursion," Kase's face turned ashen.

The black-robed man in the shadows moved.

The situation was lost, but he didn't want to die.