Apocalypse: Fairy System Macronomicon (a book to read txt) 📖

“Boys, um…there’s another man here who says he’s the reaper’s legal counsel,” the keegan woman said, peeking her head into the room.

“Oh, come on!” Croz shouted, dropping the pliers from Jeb’s fingernail. “We haven’t time for another imposter masquerading as a Citizen. The judge is breathing down my neck to have this confession ready to turn in tonight!”

The judge? Jeb thought, barely cognizant enough to catch that little slip.

“I’m sorry, he’s just really, really insistent. Do you think you could—”

“I’ll deal with him,” Camort said, setting down the salt and heading for the door.

“Out of the way,” a familiar voice said before the secretary was roughly shoved out of the way. Zlesk barged into the room, whipping the Enforcer’s Mark in front of him like a priest warding off Dracula.

It seemed to have the same effect, as the melas detectives recoiled in horror, minus the hissing.

“Sit down,” Zlesk said, speaking with the authoritative tone of someone who’d been studying to be sheriff half his life.

The two melas flopped down on either side of the new table, their knees folding out from under them.

“You guys okay in there? Should I get help?” the secretary asked through the door Zlesk held closed with his foot.

“We’re fine!” Croz raised his voice.

“All good in here!” Camort shouted, eyes fixed to the Mark.

“…Okay then.” From the tone, Jeb could picture the woman shrugging and turning away.

“Excellent. Let’s begin,” Zlesk said, pocketing the Enforcer’s Mark.

“What took you so long?” Jeb asked.

“Your friend haggled for a great sum in exchange for his assistance. He seemed rather doubtful that we were working together.”

“Goddamnit, Ron,” Jeb groaned. His haggling cost Jeb a couple fingernails. Do those even grow back?

“You two know each other?” Croz asked, glancing between the two of them.

“Indeed,” Zlesk said, coming up behind Jeb and patting him on the shoulder before leaning forward to whisper in Jeb’s ear.

“Let me handle this. They’ll respond much better to a keegan Citizen with a Mark than a maimed human.”

Jeb grunted. It was about as much mental effort as he could devote to any one thing at the moment.

“This, detectives, is my fat, ignorant patsy.”

Jeb grunted again.

“A juicy, wriggling grub to catch a vreek. He’s no more guilty of trafficking children than you or I.”

Jeb smacked his split lips and tried to work up some unbloodied saliva. This part was important.

“Judge. Confession.” Jeb struggled to speak, his voice hoarse from screaming.

“Oh?” Zlesk said, peering at Jeb, then to the two detectives gradually paling from orange to yellow under the former sheriff’s scrutiny.

“Is there a particular judge driving the investigation against my friend here?”

“Umm…”

Zlesk reached out and lifted detective Croz one-handed and stuck him to the ceiling with his Class Ability. He took the man’s seat and sat down in front of Camort, still a head taller than him.

“Gentlemen, perhaps you don’t understand the gravity here. This judge of yours has already taken my bait. Defending him will bind your fate to his. And there’s only one fate for a reaper.

“Now.” Zlesk steepled his fingers in the exact way Jeb wanted to, staring down the flustered detective.

“Do you want to live?”

Chapter 19: The Trial

They spilled their guts in every way but the literal way.

The judge’s name was Mirzos Elkor, and he’d suddenly grown a give-a-shit for the sanctity of human life sometime between the night before last and now. Out of nowhere, the keegan judge had leaned on the detectives’ boss, who had leaned on them to retrieve Jeb and squeeze a confession out of him.

In an era where Truthseekers existed, forced confessions were still a thing—go figure. If they made Jeb admit to reaping children, they could formally ask him in court if he’d admitted to the crime, which the Truthseeker would identify as ‘the truth’, then they would pack up and call it a day.

What kind of dystopian bullshit is that? The legal system needs to get its ass ironed out.

Jeb understood the concept that sometimes people just needed someone to blame, but forcing a false confession when it would be just as easy to get the real bad guy by using a Truthseeker…

According to Zlesk, this was a custom unique to Solmnath and Judge Elkor in particular, but Jeb had his doubts.

Well, tick the ‘corrupt government official’ box, Jeb thought to himself, trying not to move too much. Moving hurt. With how slimy this judge was looking to an outside observer, it wasn’t a stretch to think his dirty laundry would be…pretty bad.

Child trafficking/murdering bad? Time will tell.

“Send me back to the cell,” Jeb muttered through his swollen lip.

“Jeb, you need to get some rest. I already paid your bail. I can take you back to the orphanage.”

“No. I have to stay in jail to stick to the story. These guys can detect a setup. As long as the detectives tell the story we want them to tell, they’ll think their little tactic is working until we have a chance to meet them face-to-face.”

“What about the guy who tried to kill you?” Zlesk asked.

Jeb shrugged. “It’ll help me sleep.”

Zlesk cocked a brow at this, then turned back to the ‘detectives’. “When is the trial?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Not wasting any time, are they? That’s abnormally fast,” Zlesk said, rubbing his chin. “Well, it works well for our plans, too.”

He directed his gaze back up to Tweedle Dee and Dum.

“Do not speak of the Mark. If you do, I will find out. If you are questioned about the events that transpired here, describe me as a pushy, unscrupulous lawyer hired by the reaper with the last vestiges of his money.”

“Yessir,” the detectives said, nodding vigorously.

“Make sure he makes it to solitary, and put a security detail