9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 41 - Turning Point (3)

The civilization of this world is bizarre.

A world where ‘mana’ exists as a resource instead of coal or oil.

They operate massive machines with mana and spells. Of course, the more advanced the machinery, the greater the mana and more intricate spells required.

Perhaps because of this, civilization was both different from and similar to Earth.

At least it seems they have most of the academic disciplines and technologies that existed on Earth up to the pre-modern era.

Physics, natural history, geology, smelting and steelmaking, architecture, alchemy, medicine, and so on.

Why hasn’t civilization stagnated around the medieval level despite relying on magic?

Probably because mages are such precious beings that technological development was forced to some degree.

Instead, since internal combustion engines weren’t invented, they drive carriages rather than cars, and having already conquered the skies riding dragons, aviation technology remains at the airship level—there are areas where development is slow.

‘Well, that’s understandable.’

I could comprehend things up to this point.

I even understood that this world has primitive telephones and telegraphs using magic.

But radio, now that’s something else.

‘At this rate, they’ll probably invent lasers next.’

I grumbled inwardly.

I’d been listening to the radio every day at the boarding house or taverns without much interest.

But thinking about it carefully, isn’t this evidence that technology in this strange world has developed in a remarkably unbalanced way?

‘Airships, firearms, and now radio too. Maybe it’s because this world has frequent wars.’

I chuckled softly, causing Sophia Kohl sitting beside me to tilt her head.

“What’s wrong, Owner Redan? Oh, are you nervous? You don’t need to be too scared. The host will guide the conversation. Just take some deep breaths for now.”

Yes, yes. I answered with a smiling face.

I’m currently on my way to do a live radio broadcast.

Schufaben has exactly one radio station. It’s a state-run enterprise located in Lüdelheim’s District 1, and openly praising Kruger is routine.

I’m scheduled to appear on the interview program <People of Schufaben>. I roughly received the question sheet, wrote my answers, and even did rehearsals with Sophia.

The broadcasting station was an old-fashioned three-story building.

‘Maybe they don’t need to be tall since there’s no need to transmit and receive radio waves? Come to think of it, I don’t see any broadcast towers either.’

As I entered the studio and sat down, Sophia Kohl clenched her fist encouragingly through the glass.

She’s such a cheerful young lady, unsuited for these times.

Flicker, flicker, the lights wavered.

At exactly 7 PM, the broadcast began.

“Long live the Great Supreme Leader! Good evening, listeners. This is <People of Schufaben>, bringing you beneficial news and information as always. Today we have our hero, Lucas Redan, who recently received a medal from the Supreme Leader for his remarkable achievements. Hello!”

“Long live the Supreme Leader! Good evening, I’m Lucas Redan.”

“Thank you for taking the time. I hear you’ve been quite busy lately?”

“Haha, that’s right. I quit my civil service job and opened a tavern. It’s in the District 13 where I live, and the specific location is—”

The questions and answers continued.

The host asked me about the situation during the incident, my recovery process afterward, the medal ceremony, and so on. I answered while carefully projecting the image of a righteous and likeable young man.

“This might be a somewhat sensitive question. I understand that Miss Erika Brightner is running the establishment with you. Many people are curious about how you two came to do business together?”

“Well…”

This wasn’t a question we’d discussed beforehand. I glanced at Sophia through the glass window, and she gestured apologetically.

So this is what ‘there might be slight variations depending on the host’s discretion!’ comes down to.

In that case, I suppose I’m allowed to make unplanned statements too.

‘Right, thank you.’

I smiled at the host and opened my mouth toward the microphone—or rather, the device called a ‘sound transmission magical apparatus’ in this world’s terms, shortened to ‘voice transmitter.’

“This is a delicate matter, but I believe it was on Lüdelheim Comprehensive University’s graduation day. Miss Brightner came to see me. She said she wanted to repay the debt of gratitude for saving her. I told her several times that it was unnecessary, but she earnestly insisted. She’s an exceptionally kind and strong-willed woman. I happened to be thinking about retiring and opening a shop, so if she was that determined, I asked her to lend me a hand.”

“So that’s how it happened. What did Miss Brightner’s father—that is, President Emmett Brightner—have to say about it?”

“Well, he wasn’t pleased, naturally. At first, he even came to the opening ceremony to scold me. I felt terribly sorry about it. But Miss Brightner’s will was so firm that he had no choice but to accept it in the end.”

“They say there’s no parent who can win against their child.”

“Is that so? Hahaha!”

“Then let me ask the next question. About your future—”

Knock knock knock!

Just then, Sophia Kohl suddenly tapped on the glass and entered the booth, handing over a script.

“Ah, my apologies. This isn’t regular news time, but we have breaking news. Regarding the Supreme Leader’s recent ‘Subversive Element Detection Order,’ the police and Ossel are intensifying surveillance of suspected individuals. One of the suspects, ‘District 13 resident Finn Schäfer,’ has gone missing. If anyone knows of his whereabouts, please report to the police or Ossel.”

Watching the host read through the script word by word, I felt somewhat relieved inwardly.

‘Johann played his part. I don’t really know why he wants to eliminate that person, but… intimidate him and make him flee. Build up suspicion that way…’

The next step was to definitively brand him through me.

“I apologize, Mr. Redan. Our conversation was interrupted for a moment.”

“Not at all, it’s fine. But just now, did you say Finn Schäfer?”

When I opened my eyes wide and asked, the host tilted his head.

“Yes, that’s correct. Do you know him?”

“He’s a customer who frequents our establishment. We’ve had several conversations. Hmm, I had no idea he was under Ossel surveillance. Though I did hear some strange rumors…”

“Strange rumors?”

The host showed interest. Even if it was an unplanned conversation, he probably thought it would benefit the program.

I pictured all the citizens of Schufaben eating dinner while listening intently to the radio.

One broadcasting station. One channel.

Every day they broadcast the Supreme Leader’s speeches and throw out praise for the Supreme Leader.

‘Ah, now I remember.’

Why radio is so widespread in this bizarre world that seems to mix medieval and modern elements.

About five years ago, the Supreme Leader ordered radio distribution to all citizens, claiming he would reduce the information gap.

What was born from grinding up mages and running factories 24 hours a day was the ‘half-price radio.’

Cheap and sturdy radios flooded the market instantly, and everyone became obsessed with radio.

‘He wants to brainwash the people easily and conveniently. Creepy bastard.’

I sneered inwardly, but at least right now it’s helping me.

I cleared my throat and carefully began to speak.

“Running a tavern, you hear all sorts of rumors. Really absurd nonsense gets spread around sometimes. I thought the talk about Mr. Finn Schäfer was just such groundless gossip. It’s delicate to mention, but there were rumors that he was supporting the activities of that rebel organization that’s been in the news.”

Suddenly the atmosphere in the booth froze as if the temperature had dropped three degrees.

The nervous-looking host wiped his sweat with a handkerchief and forced a smile.

“There were such rumors. If you’ll excuse me, how did you come to hear about this?”

“Well, I was talking with a newspaper delivery boy. He’s such a good kid that I sometimes share food with him.

During our various conversations, the topic of Mr. Schäfer came up. The boy said there were such rumors about Mr. Schäfer. I pressed him about where he’d heard it.

But newspaper sellers are in a profession where they hear all kinds of stories on the street, aren’t they? The boy couldn’t remember exactly either. This was just this morning…

I was planning to watch Mr. Schäfer and report if I saw anything suspicious, but I didn’t know he’d already gone missing.”

Before I knew it, lies were flowing smoothly. I acted like I was really being cautious, hardening my expression as I spoke.

I hadn’t planned to spill everything like this.

According to the original plan, I would have told customers about the ‘Finn Schäfer White Raven Order supporter theory,’ saying I’d ‘heard it somewhere.’

Johann would have raided Schäfer’s house under the pretext of receiving a tip.

But an opportunity for a faster and more certain resolution had come.

Since every household in Schufaben would be listening to this radio broadcast, I’ll be remembered as a proper public-minded informant.

The White Raven Order will be inflated into something even more dangerous than its actual substance.

“We’ve heard Mr. Redan’s words well. However, this isn’t something for us to draw conclusions about here. We can only hope this is resolved quickly.

It’s already 8 o’clock. Dear listeners, we apologize for not being able to ask all our prepared questions due to the sudden breaking news. And Mr. Redan, thank you once again.”

“Not at all, thank you more.”

“Then we’ll say goodbye here. Dear listeners, have a good night.”

***

“Lieutenant, isn’t this a house we already searched once? We didn’t find anything then.”

“Can’t help it. Don’t you know how much commotion there is right now? The Colonel said we could dismantle the mansion if necessary, but we absolutely must find something.”

Lieutenant Philip Decker and his subordinate Ossel agents turned Schäfer’s mansion upside down once more, discovering floorboards in the bathroom that could be removed.

Hidden underneath were pamphlets and seditious books that had been distributed throughout Lüdelheim, along with notes exchanged with someone.

The Colonel, furious beyond measure, raged and issued an arrest warrant. Three days later, Finn Schäfer was captured by Major Johann Werner.

***

Clack, clack, clack, clack.

The anxious sound of chattering teeth echoed.

The heavy iron door opened and the sound didn’t stop until a man in a neat Ossel uniform entered and sat down.

Clack, clack, clack, clack.

“Hiiiik!”

When the man raised his hand slightly, the sound suddenly disappeared and a scream filled the concrete room.

“I’ll tell everything, I’ll tell! Twenty people! No, thirty people! Thirty people, they received money every month. I gave them money, bills, sometimes coins, when I left letters by the garden wall they took them. Those people made pamphlets for me. So I hid them too, but, but, sob, I was wrong! I was wrong! Uhhaaak!”

Crash!

The chair fell over with a loud noise. Schäfer rolled on the floor, clutching his head.

“I was wrong about everything, wrong…”

Johann looked down expressionlessly at him babbling nonsense.

‘As expected, the Colonel is someone who shouldn’t conduct interrogations.’

Hadn’t he reduced him to this state in just one night?

Countless whip marks covered his body, and the blood vessels in his eyes and mouth had all burst, making his face look monstrously hideous. Even his mind seemed damaged—he appeared to have gone half-mad already.

‘If he’d conducted a proper interrogation, he would have learned this was a false accusation.’

But he expected the Colonel wouldn’t do that. That’s why he handed Schäfer over to him.

Schäfer was someone who grew up with him, how should he put it…

Right, a friend from the same neighborhood. That would be appropriate.

Johann was recruited into Ossel at eighteen and left his hometown.

While he was rapidly rising through the ranks, taking on all sorts of torture duties, Finn Schäfer, having ruined his business, accumulated debts to everyone in the neighborhood before fleeing at night to come up to Lüdelheim.

Johann extended a hand to him. He offered to be his backer, providing all kinds of conveniences and helping him build up his business.

In return, Schäfer handed over tribute money to Johann, lent him his name, and delivered ‘subversive elements’ who would become performance records.

Schäfer seemed to mistake this for a symbiotic relationship.

Once he made decent money and started doing well, he could see him gradually becoming reluctant to meet with Johann.

However, Johann held no emotions toward Schäfer. He was just one of the cards in his hand, and a rather insignificant one at that.

The only special meaning Schäfer possessed was…

‘He knows my past.’

The last person who remembers Johann’s childhood.

He abandoned his family, abandoned his hometown.

If not for Schäfer suddenly appearing, he wouldn’t have had occasion to recall that squalid neighborhood.

‘Cleaning everything up at this opportunity wouldn’t be bad either.’

“Finn Schäfer.”

At the emotionless voice, Schäfer, who had been cowering in the corner trembling, looked up at him.

“Johann…”

Some clarity returned to his hazy eyes. He began sniffling with a pleading expression.

“Save me, I won’t go against you again, I won’t! Please, please…”

However, Johann merely asked indifferently while writing in his report.

“White Raven Order consists of about 30 members. Activity range covers all of Lüdelheim. Activity cycle is irregular. Besides you, there are multiple people providing financial support. Is that correct?”

Schäfer nodded fervently. Without even properly understanding what was being said.

‘This should be enough.’

He turned around and left the room.

“Wait! Johann! Johann!”

The hoarse voice grew distant.