Those Who Live Without the Law

Chapter 64

The Archaeologist’s Misfortune

After dropping the cabinet off at the garbage collection site, I immediately moved on.

I had already chosen my target.

‘Melvin Istovan.’

He was one of the scholars dispatched to the vault not to evaluate the performance of the battle gear, but to assess its archaeological value.

Even among archaeologists, there was a divide between mainstream and fringe fields depending on their research focus.

Melvin Istovan was a scholar who had devoted his life to one of the fringe fields.

“The Dutel tribe, huh.”

It wasn’t a topic many people studied. The mainstream subject of research at the moment was, unsurprisingly, Dersos.

An ancient nation both the Empire and the Republic claimed as their rightful predecessor, known for its countless awe-inspiring architectural feats that still stood to this day.

Compared to that, the Dutel tribe—considered a minor peripheral group—drew little interest from Imperial historians. One could safely say that almost no one bothered to study them.

“And this Melvin Istovan…”

He was well-versed in Dersos civilization. Among historians, knowledge of Dersos civilization was considered a given.

It was simply that, since other historians lacked knowledge about the Dutel tribe, he was treated as an expert in that specific area.

“…The Dutel tribe and Dersos civilization.”

My mind grew slightly more tangled. I remembered a place that had once been home to the Dutel tribe and where grand remnants of the Dersos civilization still remained.

‘Bennett City.’

That was where the Antaria Grand Canal, constructed by the Dersos civilization, was located. The region used to fall under the Dutel tribe’s sphere of influence. Then another thought crossed my mind.

“That strange sword.”

I recalled the dagger made from a turtle shell. Its length, weight, and volume exactly matched the measurement standards of the Dersos Empire—a bizarre weapon.

I scratched my head with a look of irritation.

“Damn it, it’s not like this damn archaeologist is the only one around.”

Of course, it wouldn’t be easy to find another archaeologist skilled enough to be selected for the Artifact Evaluation Committee and also proficient in both the Dutel tribe and the Dersos civilization.

But that didn’t mean I could just abandon the plan now.

Back at the military garrison, I headed to the lodging where Melvin Istovan was staying.

The Artifact Evaluation Committee was also under military protection, so they were using the quarters within the garrison.

“…”

I already had permission from the battalion commander to move freely within the garrison.

‘The committee members should all be in the vault until lunchtime anyway.’

I reached the vicinity of the lodging without any interference and headed straight to Melvin’s quarters.

The door was locked, but I swung my sword and sliced through the latch, entering the room.

“Well, no doubt about it—this is an archaeologist’s room.”

The smell of aged paper and ink spread thickly through the room, mingling with the piles of books and the countless sheets of paper scattered across the floor.

It was immediately clear this room belonged to someone who had spent their life immersed in a single field.

“A very promising sign.”

I hadn’t come here to make a move. The best time to kill someone wasn’t when you went looking for them, but when they came looking for you.

“If he’s this obsessed with his research…”

The moment I took something important from this room and used it as bait, he would come to the place I named.

Then I’d deal with Melvin there and take on his identity.

‘If I want to settle everything in one move, I should tell him to come to the place where I dumped the cabinet.’

Deciding that, I began searching the room for something valuable enough to lure Melvin.

After some time had passed, I scratched my head again.

“This is driving me crazy.”

I was holding a document in my hand. It turned out Melvin had been obsessed with one particular subject for the past five years.

A study estimating the location of an emergency shelter constructed over a long period by the Dersos civilization.

“Pontus.”

In its prime, Dersos had national strength to spare. With that surplus, they built all kinds of facilities for contingencies.

The massive shelter known as Pontus was also presumed to be one of the structures built by Dersos.

According to Melvin’s research, the most probable location for Pontus was near Bennett City.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

The mere fact that an archaeological expert—one thoroughly versed in the Dutel tribe and the Dersos civilization—was interested in it, already strongly hinted at a connection to Bennett City.

Pontus, said to have been built as the final fallback shelter in a national crisis, supposedly had only one key that could open it.

“A dagger with a hilt and sheath made of turtle shell, every element matching the empire’s measurement standards.”

It was the only key to open Pontus. And I just happened to have an item that matched that description exactly.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

I couldn’t tell if things were spiraling out of control or falling perfectly into place.

I was starting to feel genuinely confused. The key to Pontus, which Melvin Istovan had been desperately searching for, was in my possession.

‘If Pontus were just an artifact of archaeological value, I wouldn’t be struggling this much.’

The problem was that, based on the documents scattered around this room, I realized that Pontus—the Dersos shelter—was a remarkably enticing place.

There were no records indicating it had ever actually been used. In other words, it was built, but might never have been occupied.

‘But they stocked up on all sorts of supplies in case it had to be used.’

Of course, most of the items presumed to have been stored in the shelter by the Dersos civilization had long since lost their usefulness in the modern day.

As time passes and civilizations evolve, it’s common for items once considered valuable to become obsolete.

No matter how fine a carriage may be, it’s worthless in an age where cars are widely used.

Naturally, the shelter would contain ancient battle gear used by Dersos, as well as a variety of important historical records.

But that wasn’t the important part.

“This shelter.”

Its very existence was what mattered. With this, the shelter might be able to bring Kairus back from the death sentence handed down by the Rose Garden. It was entirely possible.

If he offered up this shelter as a bargaining chip, it could be enough to overturn Kairus’s death sentence.

It was practically guaranteed. The larger the organization, the more it needed a secure and dependable base of operations.

‘It’s not easy to find a massive location like that which an organization of that size could use as a base.’

Cecilia’s mansion on the outskirts of Bennett City left much to be desired.

If Kairus proposed to trade his life for access to a large underground base, the Rose Garden would have no reason to refuse.

“In that case, I shouldn’t be thinking about killing this Melvin Istovan, but about talking to him.”

There was no doubt that a deal could be made with Melvin Istovan. Kairus had the item he had spent years searching for.

‘Something like an ID card should be a fair trade.’

If he refused to deal, Kairus could always kill him then.

Either way, having spent years researching the location of this so-called Pontus shelter, he would be a valuable guide in locating the actual site.

Kairus took out his pocket watch and checked the time. Lunch would start soon.

The scholars inside the vault would be coming out for their meal.

“I’ll just have to tail him then.”

Kairus headed toward the Rezantin Royal Museum.

Meanwhile—

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s lunchtime! Please stop what you’re doing and exit the vault! The sealed vault will reopen at 2 PM!”

A man with pale skin from lack of sunlight, dull blond hair, and a gaunt frame snapped out of his focus at the soldier’s shout.

As the man made his way toward the vault’s exit, a soldier checked the ID hanging around his neck.

“Dr. Melvin Istovan. Confirmed.”

After checking the ID, the soldier immediately stepped aside to let him through.

Outside, Melvin squinted and frowned slightly in the blinding sunlight.

“If it’s not here either…”

He muttered in despair, nervously biting his fingernails.

It had been an incredibly hard-won opportunity. No matter how hard he searched, Melvin Istovan had never been able to track down the whereabouts of the Yucheok Sword

He had managed to gain access to the Rezantin Museum’s vault, thinking it was his last hope but that, too, was a dead end.

“Just standard military battle gear!”

When your path ahead seems blocked, even your appetite suffers. With no desire for a proper meal, Melvin bought a piece of bread with ham and a cup of coffee from a street vendor and sat on a bench.

“Dr. Melvin Istovan.”

Just as he was about to eat, someone sat next to him and spoke. It was Kairus, his face disguised.

“What’s this, do you know me?”

Melvin looked at Kairus with a puzzled expression as his name was called.

There wasn’t a trace of suspicion in his eyes.

A man who had lived harmlessly, never causing harm to anyone—a bland, unremarkable type.

That was Kairus’s assessment of Melvin Istovan. He was the perfect fit for a city like Rezantin.

“Let’s get straight to the point. One of your current research interests is something called the Yucheok Sword. I think I might be in possession of it.”

Kairus had already skimmed through various documents in Melvin’s lodging. He’d even learned the name of the dagger he had through Melvin’s research materials.

Upon hearing those words, Melvin suddenly stood up.

“I don’t know where you heard that name, but…”

“The hilt and sheath were made from turtle shell. It’s a splendid weapon, but the blade is extremely narrow, and the metal isn’t strong enough for actual combat.”

Kairus casually described the characteristics of the Yucheok Sword he possessed. Melvin, listening intently, swallowed once.

‘It matches the historical records and the cultural context.’

His gaze drifted to Kairus’s waist.

“Are you a soldier?”

“No. Well, technically, I used to be.”

He had served in the military once. Not as part of the Valorn or Aylan armed forces, but as a child soldier. Still, it was true that he was formerly in the military.

“I have the sword. If you want it, I can offer it.”

“…Doesn’t sound like you’re giving it away for free.”

Kairus smiled and gave Melvin a light pat on the back.

“Good to see you’re quick on the uptake. First of all, whatever it is you plan to do with that sword, I want in.”

Melvin figured there was no harm in hearing him out.

But the real issue came with the next condition.

“And hand over the ID badge that grants access to the Rezantin vault.”

“What?”

Melvin looked at him in disbelief, wondering if this was some kind of joke.

“I want to get into the vault at the Rezantin Royal Museum. But I don’t have clearance.”

Melvin’s heart began to race. A cold sweat trickled down his back.

“Why… why do you want to go in there? If you don’t explain, I can’t give it to you.”

Trembling in fear, Melvin spoke with a shaky voice.

Kairus gave him a friendly smile and looked him over.

“Do you really want to know what I plan to do in a sealed vault without authorization?”

Melvin flinched at Kairus’s words.

“I was raised in the Empire, sustained only by the grace of His Majesty, the one and only sun. If it’s something that might harm His Majesty’s land or people…”

As Melvin continued, Kairus’s chilling gaze pierced through him. The intensity pouring from Kairus stopped Melvin from finishing his sentence.

“So you’re saying you won’t cooperate. That’s… a little disappointing.”

If Melvin went on any longer about the Emperor or the Empire, wasting time, Kairus would probably resort to a little violence.

With a soft shring, the stained-glass hilt of his sword slipped slightly from its sheath.

In that moment, Melvin gave a surprising answer.

“I want to know the plan. I can’t entrust my identity to a half-baked plan that’s likely to fail.”

That was an unexpectedly rational and cool-headed response from a man who had just been trembling in fear.