NOVEL WEB Chapter 180
After resolving to do some good…
The place I ended up bringing Siena to was ultimately the production facility.
“Alan, I’m kind of excited right now.”
I heard her voice as she worked together with me on the drug production.
She was currently heating the mixture contained in a three-neck flask. During our drug war, while synthesizing fentanyl and methadone, I had taught her all the essentials. Now, Siena could independently synthesize fentanyl.
But what we were making now wasn’t narcotics.
We were producing antibiotics.
Ciprofloxacin.
Until now, the things we had made here were morphine, ephedrine, heroin, methamphetamine, cocaine, fentanyl, phosgene, and others.
As the revenue grew, the equipment gradually advanced as well; we even established a separate solvent factory. As a result, producing even more heinous substances became easier.
And now, antibiotics?
And Siena, who loved narcotics so dearly, finding meaning in antibiotics?
Of course, Siena hadn’t suddenly changed.
“Alan, do you know why I’m acting this way?”
“I roughly have an idea.”
“You’re right about that. …First of all, it’s a little fun that you make medicine beneficial to people and have kept it hidden until now. …Not hidden, right? It might be more accurate to say that you didn’t even care, didn’t you?”
“That’s right. Honestly, I didn’t care.”
As I nodded, Siena let out a snort.
Though I don’t know exactly when she got excited, the girl was definitely riled up.
“And there’s one more thing, Alan.”
“Go ahead.”
“I don’t have any plans to treat sick people and receive their gratitude, not even in my dreams. Honestly, I think that holds absolutely no meaning—it’s too fleeting. It just involves a few bows and then it’s over.”
“…”
“I plan to prevent them from even uttering a word of gratitude.”
My fiancée appeared to be thrilled at the prospect of playing with the beneficiaries of charity.
Siena originally had a knack for playing with other people’s emotions. Pushing someone into a dead end, forcing them to beg for their lives, and turning them into fools—her cunning was on par with mine.
“That’s enough fun for now.”
I just nodded, sensing what she was thinking. After all, we hadn’t exactly embarked on this good deed out of sincerity.
Even if I were to repay the evil I’ve committed with charity, it would take far more than a hundred years. Perhaps Siena’s method was more efficient after all.
“Siena, I’ll do it your way.”
“Really?”
“That’s right.”
Siena, who had been staring at me intently, hesitated for a moment before nodding.
Siena gazed intently at the mixture with her violet eyes, likely contemplating how to use the antibiotics she expected to obtain in a couple of hours, along with the things to follow. Though it seemed she was scheming something sinister, she wasn’t.
Someone would certainly benefit from this.
All my fiancée wanted was to play with the emotions of others.
“I have an idea, Alan.”
Siena suddenly mumbled, removing her mask; her small face was filled with joy.
Anais, whom Siena had appointed as the bio-timer and cleanup person, looked on blankly at her delighted half-sister.
***
Peace overflowed in the tranquil village when the devil came.
‘Divine beings, why do You send this trial?’
A young priest of the small village of ‘Lavidal’ in Longkenny Prefecture muttered.
It was the priest’s duty to become the light and salt of this land, spreading the gospel and protecting the poor and the sick.
But he could not stop the devil.
After all, the priest was merely a powerless human. He was not a saint capable of performing miracles.
The priest felt his chest tighten but managed a feeble smile despite the difficulty.
And to the devil,
Or rather, to something far more terrifying than any devil, he showed courtesy. Placing his hand on his chest and bowing deeply,
“It’s an honor to see you, Your Excellency.”
“That’s right.”
In front of the priest stood Alan Medoff, Chairman of the Imperial Privy Council.
In terms of rank alone, he held a position higher than any minister. Originally, the Chairman of the Privy Council was a position of high standing but was close to being merely honorary. Nowadays, however, it was almost equivalent to the post of Prime Minister.
His influence extended so far as to captivate both the Heiress Apparent and the Second Imperial Princess. Furthermore, he made an absurd amount of money.
‘Why has this terrifying man come here?’
Moreover, his parish—this village—was already in a dire situation.
The cause was dysentery.
This was a common occurrence in this area. Cases of stomachaches often appeared under normal circumstances, and when summer hit or livestock herding season came, there were fatalities.
Even now, despite the weather not being particularly warm, the patients were surging. There were several people moaning in the village hall and the church.
Why did he visit at such a time? What mischief did he intend to enact?
While the priest was trying to figure out what was happening,
“I’ve brought some medicine. To administer to the villagers.”
“Pardon?”
The priest prayed that he had misheard because his hearing was faulty.
Though only a village priest, he was aware of the dreadful and atrocious events occurring outside the village.
The Church had been monitoring Alan Medoff’s activities for quite some time.
The issue of narcotics had been discussed multiple times at the Bishops’ conference. The results of some of those discussions were even published for distribution to all the churches.
Without exaggeration or omissions, just the bare facts.
Unfortunately, those bare facts were far too horrifying to ignore.
“You mentioned medicine just now… Sir Chairman. Have I heard correctly?”
“Yes. Medicine.”
“…”
“…According to the governor, I’ve heard that dysentery breaks out nearly every year in four villages in this area. Measures seem to have been inadequate, so I’ve decided to help personally.”
It was a story about having pity on the peasants and preparing medicine.
Sounds kind, but it didn’t ring true to the priest’s ears.
It seemed impossible to believe that such a ruthless man cared about the health of commoners, or that he even had the means to create medicine to cure dysentery.
That was because all the drugs produced by Medoff Pharmaceuticals were…
Narcotics that drove people insane or killed them. And Alan, the owner of the company, was not a pharmacist concerned with the welfare of people.
‘There must be some motive behind this.’
This was a reasonable assumption.
But it still didn’t make sense. This was just an insignificant village, so what could possibly be of interest here? There were no massive resources like the Great Forest, and no threatening figures like Master Leon the Madman.
‘Ah, could it be…’
A suspicion arose in the priest as he pondered.
It was an accusation too terrible to utter aloud.
He lacked the courage. If Alan Medoff’s reputation was true, he would more likely kill first and ask questions later regardless of whether the target was a cleric or not.
While the priest hesitated, Alan Medoff gave instructions to the village administrator.
“Isolate the severe cases. Provide the oral rehydration solution we brought to those with mild stomachaches and diarrhea symptoms, and give the medication to those in critical condition. …Also, it would be helpful if you could gather information about the circumference and depth of all the wells in the village.”
“Yes… Yes! Understood!”
The wells too? This was the moment when suspicion turned to certainty in the priest’s mind.
Finally gathering his courage, he spoke out, knowing it could mean his death.
“Your Excellency, are you planning to… conduct some kind of experiment?”
It might have been a risky question that would lead to the priest’s death. But once he had asked, there was no way to take it back.
So, he decided to proceed.
“Of course… yes. What harm could come from feeding the villagers a bit of narcotics? This insignificant village, which could easily disappear from the map at the Chairman’s word. …But Your Excellency, please reconsider.”
“Stop it, Father! You’ll die if you continue…!”
“I won’t kill you. Keep talking.”
“They are not livestock; they are precious lives.”
So, please stop this at once.
The priest’s earnest plea caused the surrounding atmosphere to chill.
The village administrator, pale as a ghost. The elderly nun, shifting her uneasy gaze. The guards surrounding Alan Medoff, already emanating murderous intent. Everyone seemed to recognize the possibility of a disaster unfolding depending on the situation.
‘I will die here, no doubt.’
He didn’t want to die, but if death was inevitable, he wanted it to be meaningful.
The parish of a humble priest in a village with a population of less than three thousand.
Still, he was a priest.
If the Privy Council Chairman slaughtered an innocent priest, public outcry would surely follow. A cardinal might protest to the Imperial Court, or the Celestial Throne Hall itself might actively intervene.
And that might stop Alan Medoff.
‘Someone has to stop him.’
Accepting his impending death, the priest closed his eyes.
Until yesterday, death had never crossed his mind. His days were occupied in scolding the villagers over eating food with dirty hands. But if death was certain, then he wanted to save at least one life.
Yes. Let’s die with dignity.
But it wasn’t an immediate execution.
“You understand because of rumors you’ve heard, correct? …But there’s no time to explain and seek understanding now. I came here myself not to crush you with mere force.”
“Pardon?”
“Just don’t get in the way.”
Alan Medoff’s somber instructions hung in the air.
Expecting execution by fire or gunfire, the priest was surprised. It wasn’t about avoiding killing a holy man—Alan Medoff simply regarded the priest with a calm, almost disinterested look.
The priest sighed deeply, shaking his head. Though his life had been spared, relief was absent, replaced by an unsettling feeling.
…
It was three days later when the truth came to light.
“Was the medicine really real?”
The critical patients had quickly improved, and the low-ranking officials tasked with surveying the wells had returned. They had been sent out to assess and disinfect villages in the area that lacked alternative water sources, aiming to prevent the spread of disease among the residents.
‘What have I done wrong?’
Feeling the weight of shame, the priest slumped, his arms drooping.
Instead of gratitude, he had baselessly suspected and even publicly insulted someone who could be considered royalty.
He had an overwhelming urge to kneel and apologize.
But it wasn’t possible. The man he had called the “devil,” Alan Medoff, had long since left the village, leaving behind only medicine and relief supplies. All the priest could do was wallow in belated guilt, staring off into the distance.
Soon, a hot tear rolled down the priest’s cheek.