Gamble Scramble!

by Natsume Akatsuki

  “I do not have any objection, of course. I would be happy to assault a castle or whatever you wish. My minion she may be, but she is still my comrade, and I shall not stand to see her made fun of. No Crimson Magic Clan member would remain calm in light of this.”

  “I don’t know what you’re planning, but I got those monster parts from Iris. I’ll help out, as long as it’s not anything scary, okay?”

  I discovered I had two very eager friends and one sort of eager, maybe, I wasn’t sure friend.

  “I’ll make that little sod regret underestimating me…!”

  For quite a while now, I’d been nursing a plan we could use on the off chance we didn’t get the defense money. Now it was time to fill everyone in…

  4

  Ah, morning. The sun poured in through the window, filling the dim room with gentle light. It was a beautiful day. A gorgeous way to wake up…but my mood had hit rock bottom.

  “Let me out of here! What charge? I demand to know what charge you’re holding me on! This is unwarranted detention!”

  Aqua was shouting and banging on the bars despite the fact that it was the crack of dawn.

  That’s right: We were in jail. Unbelievably, my perfect, flawless plan hadn’t worked. The local authorities had detained all of us and relieved us of our weapons and equipment.

  The police building was made of stone, but considering the season, it was surprisingly warm. The jail itself was stone, too, with iron bars on the cells. Inside each cell were only two things: chains for subduing violent prisoners and a really crappy toilet (pun intended).

  Darkness was seriously bugging me: For some reason, she was just sitting there, not moving a muscle, staring at those chains and blushing faintly.

  A jail guard who was outside filling out some paperwork frowned at Aqua’s commotion. “Ch-charges…? I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to ask, but… You lot were sneaking around town in the middle of the night, then you used a huge magic spell that made a loud boom, and you thought no one was going to be upset?”

  Megumin grabbed the bars of the cell. “In the city I live in, the police just let me off with a warning: ‘We don’t want the local terrain to change too much, so maybe you could pick a more distant spot.’ And this is the very first time I’ve let off magic anywhere near this town. You people are awfully intolerant.”

  “Idiot! That makes your police the weird ones!” (Well, he wasn’t wrong.) “The townspeople here all jumped out of bed thinking a battle was starting! The prosecutor will be here soon. Save your excuses for her. Just waking people up with some magic isn’t likely to get you in that much trouble. My guess is they’ll let you off with a fine. Pipe down until then.”

  The night before, we had waited until everyone was asleep, then sneaked out of town, being careful to avoid the guards.

  Initially, I’d asked everyone to make a little noise just outside town, thinking that all we needed was a bit of a commotion at the castle. But Megumin started going on about how if there was a medium-size hill nearby, she could make her Explosion reach all the way to the castle; it was okay; she was used to it… I didn’t really know what she was talking about, but we went with that.

  So we set off the blast, and in the ensuing chaos, I sneaked into the castle. I worked my way to the prince’s bedroom, where I left a knife and a note by his pillow.

  The note read: Foolish human, did you think that a simple declaration of neutrality would save you? When we have brought low vile Belzerg, you will be next!

  …See? We make him think the Demon King’s army wasn’t interested in respecting any neutrals and scare him into joining our side. It was my specialty: cause a problem myself, then be the hero by solving it. This would put the fear of God, or at least of the Demon King, into him and might get him to cooperate…

  That was the plan, but…

  Come dawn, just as we could hear people waking up and starting their days, the woman appeared.

  She was impeccably dressed, with a face that screamed competence, her red hair tied back in a ponytail and her piercing gaze fixed on us.

  She reminded me of Sena, the prosecutor I’d met back in Axel. Sena had been as equally sharp-looking and scary. I wondered if she was doing well. A rumor I’d heard suggested she had solved a certain case and been welcomed back to the capital with open arms.

  This prosecutor hung her jacket on the wall, poured herself some tea or something, glanced at us in the cell, and then turned a wordless look on the guard. Who are these bums? she seemed to ask.

  “Late last night, we rushed to investigate the use of explosion magic outside of town, and we found this lot running around, pursued by a gathering swarm of undead. We didn’t believe anyone would deliberately leave town to hunt undead at that hour, so we brought them in. The report is over there, ma’am.” He pointed at a table and the paper on top of it.

  Outside our cell, the jail was carpeted, and besides the table there was even a sofa and some chairs. I had to say, this didn’t feel much like a place for holding or interrogating criminals.

  The prosecutor must have read something in my look, because she took a sip of her tea and said, “You’re in Elroad: a country that has prospered by running casinos. It’s not a place that violent criminals usually visit. More typically, this building holds drunken tourists or people who’ve gambled away so much money, they can’t even pay for an inn. It gives them somewhere to spend the night without freezing… Now, I’d like to speak to you each one by one.” There was a cold flash in her eyes.

  It looked like the interrogations were to be conducted right in front of the rest of us, maybe on purpose. We wouldn’t be escorted to some cramped side room; she would ask her questions at the table in the carpeted area. The guard would stand behind the subject of her interrogation, watching for any false moves.

  She apparently intended to speak to each of us individually, but I thought the whole point of interrogating suspects one by one was so they couldn’t share their story with everyone else and you might be able to catch them in a contradiction.

  The prosecutor had that covered, though. She pulled out a little item that was all too familiar to me.

  “All right, I’ve got a few questions for you… Incidentally, this is a magic item that jingles whenever someone tells a lie. Thus, I’m afraid, any attempt to coordinate your stories is doomed to fail.” She set the little bell on the table. Then she wove her fingers together, turning her stare on the person across from her.

  “…Ahem, I may not look like much, but I am a Crusader. On the name of my patron goddess, Eris, I swear that I shall tell the truth and nothing but the truth.”

  …Yes, there was Darkness, beet red, her eyes weirdly eager.

  The prosecutor let out a soft whisper of “Very good.” With her eyes still fixed on the paper in front of her, she started talking. “Your class is Crusader. Your faith, the Eris sect… Please begin by stating your name.”

  “I refuse,” Darkness said flatly.

  “…Excuse me?” The prosecutor looked up in surprise, casting a dubious gaze at her.

  “I said, I refuse. If you want to know my name, pry it out of me with interrogation or torture! But by the proud name of the Dustiness household, I shall never speak without a fight!”

  “Miss Dustiness, is it? …Don’t worry—we have no intention of interrogation or torture or any such thing. Magic provides us far more accurate access to truth than those outdated practices. You can relax… But the Dustiness household? Do you mean the Dustiness household? …I almost can’t believe it… But the bell didn’t ring…” She looked questioningly at the magic bell, muttering to herself.

  …Maybe it would be best if she just talked to me and let me do all the explaining. I could see what was about to happen to this prosecutor, and I felt downright sorry for her.

  “Very well, Miss Dustiness. Could you tell me why you unleashed magic in the place that you did?”

  “I refuse. If you want me to talk, you’ll have t
o wring every word from my battered, broken body.”

  Darkness was still playing at resisting the questioning. What a lot of trouble she was.

  “…You understand your refusal to answer could be taken as an admission of wrongdoing, yes? I told you already, we don’t rely on outdated practices, but we aren’t without some equipment here. I promise you: I don’t want to use it. You needn’t worry; you’re not going to be punished too harshly. So don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Just tell me what happened. I am authorized to use torture if, in my judgment, a suspect is hiding something germane to the case at hand. I advise you not to be rash about—”

  “Yes, torture me! Do your worst! Please!” Darkness shouted, leaning across the table. The prosecutor slid back a little. Then she looked at the bell.

  …Of course it didn’t ring.

  Her frown deepened. “I… I believe I’ve heard enough from you… Next suspect!”

  “How could this happen…? I might never have another chance in my life to be subjected to interrogation and torture. And it’s over just like that…”

  “You need to stop making people’s lives harder because of your own deviance.”

  A deeply disappointed Darkness had come back to the cell in exchange for Megumin, who was next on the questioning list. The prosecutor already looked so tired, it was almost painful to see. She collected herself when Megumin sat down, though, fixing her with a fittingly stern glare and putting her hands on the table. “…Now then, you’re the one who actually let off the spell, correct? Your class is Arch-wizard, I assume. Please begin by stating your name.”

  “My name is Megumin.”

  The prosecutor didn’t move and didn’t soften her expression. “…I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said, Megumin.”

  The prosecutor waited for the bell to ring.

  …Which, of course, it didn’t.

  At that, Megumin said, “Hey, if you have something to say about my name, then I shall hear it.”

  “N-no! I’m sorry—that was rude of me,” the prosecutor said, startled. “Ahem. If I may ask, why did you use such a noisy spell in the middle of the night?”

  “I make it my business to let off one explosion each and every day. Back in Axel Town, I sometimes used the spell in the middle of downtown as a fireworks display.”

  The prosecutor froze. But when she looked at the bell—still no ringing.

  Megumin hadn’t exactly answered her question, but the prosecutor seemed more interested in this idea of one explosion per day. “…So what happens to you if you don’t perform this daily explosion?”

  “I am loath even to think about it. I could all too easily picture myself simply going pop.”

  I wondered what it meant to go pop.

  The prosecutor seemed to have the same question; she looked at the silent bell and muttered to herself. Why didn’t that bell ring? Maybe Megumin really would go pop?

  “Let’s try a different question. The very act of using explosion magic in the middle of the night. What do you think about it? Do you not feel it’s rather bad behavior?”

  “I do not. The reason is that I was, in my previous life, none other than the goddess of destruction. Thus, I view destructive activity as right and good.”

  As Megumin babbled, the prosecutor glanced at the bell again. No ring.

  …Maybe it was broken?

  “Hey, Aqua, you’re looking so great today, a guy could fall head over heels for you.”

  “Ooh, what’s this all of a sudden? What’s gotten into you, Kazuma? Maybe you really are feeling a little jealous about me getting chatted up by those guys the other—”

  Diiing.

  Before Aqua could finish, the bell on the table jingled.

  “…Please don’t interfere with the questioning.”

  “Sorry, I was just making sure the bell wasn’t broken… Whoa! Hey, stop that! What are you doing?! How dare you try to strangle me after I complimented you! Besides, you did the same thing when you thought the bell was broken!”

  I had to peel Aqua off me as she tried to wring my neck, but at least the prosecutor looked relieved to know that the bell was obviously in good working order.

  “All right, I’ll ask you again,” she said. “Why did you set off an explosion in the middle of the night?” It almost sounded like she had softened toward Megumin a little bit.

  “Because that is the way I live my life.”

  The prosecutor toughened right back up. She gave the bell a long, hard look, but…

  “………Erm, next, please…,” she said, drained, her shoulders slumping at the silent bell.

  “My name? Aqua. I’m sort of the babysitter for these three—the overseer, you might even say.”

  The three of us looked at her, shocked. Then we looked at the lie-detecting bell on the table.

  “Miss Aqua… Ahem. That’s the same name as the goddess of water,” the prosecutor said, but for some reason, the bell didn’t ring.

  …Huh?

  “Hey, that thing’s not ringing…”

  “It doesn’t ring so long as the speaker believes what she’s saying,” Darkness said. “Remember how it didn’t ring even though Megumin was talking total nonsense?”

  “Hey, I shall have you tell me just what total nonsense you are referring to.”

  If that was true, then did Aqua really think of herself as our guardian? I would have to knock the notion out of her later.

  “All right, let’s begin. Why in the world were you where you were at the time you were there?”

  “We were keeping our friend, that perpetually horny guy Kazuma over there, clear of the town because we were afraid he might go sneaking into people’s houses in the night.”

  Grrr! She must have thought she was getting payback on me for that stuff I said earlier to make the bell ring. I assumed that this, like the pronouncement about being our babysitter earlier, was just something she had convinced herself of in her broken mind, but…

  The prosecutor and I both looked at the bell, but it didn’t ring.

  The prosecutor looked at me, contempt creeping into her gaze.

  It… It’s not true.

  Seriously, did that bell even work?

  “Erm, all right… And why did you use explosion magic in the middle of the night…?”

  “To protect this city from an encroaching horde of monsters. You heard me: Those three and I saved the day, even though it was the middle of the night!”

  Now Aqua was absolutely lying through her teeth, but still the bell didn’t ring.

  The prosecutor was wilting in the face of the silent bell. “…You’re…not lying, it would seem. Incredible… You saved this city…?” She looked directly at Aqua, suddenly abjectly apologetic. She sat up straighter. “Allow me to thank you on behalf of this city. Miss Aqua, wasn’t it? And your class is Arch-priest?”

  Suddenly, Aqua stood up from her chair. And then…!

  “Heh-heh, Arch-priest is merely my disguise! I have nothing to hide: I am myself the very goddess of water! Yes! The goddess Aqua stands before you!”

  We, the prosecutor, and even the guard all immediately looked at the bell.

  …Which didn’t ring.

  Finally the prosecutor sighed and murmured, “Pfah. It’s just broken…”

  “Why doesn’t anyone believe me?!”

  A few minutes later, Aqua rejoined us in the cell after the guard had subdued her.

  Having dealt with my three companions, the prosecutor told the guard to take the tinkling magical item to the back, then rubbed her eyes in exhaustion.

  …I sort of felt bad for her. My pity for the prosecutor moved me to whisper to Aqua as she came back, “Hey, why didn’t the bell ring for you? Did you use some clever spell?”

  “That bell detects the ill spirit that emanates from a person when they tell a lie,” Aqua said. “But I’m a goddess, remember? A little white lie here or there isn’t enough to make evil emanate from me. And ev
en if it did, my intense holy aura would wipe it out immediately. To make that bell jingle, I would have had to tell one hell of a whopper.”

  She sounded completely nonchalant. Sometimes she was capable of sort of…remembering she was a goddess and making use of her powers. I wasn’t going to decide whether that was good or bad.

  “…Huh? So it has to be a really big, really serious lie to make the bell ring? But back at our mansion, you made one of those bells go off when you praised me. That would mean…”

  “All right, the last of you… Over here, please.”

  I was about to subject Aqua to an interrogation of my own when the cell door opened again and I was taken over to meet the poor prosecutor, her voice tremendously tired.

  “I am so, so sorry! I had no idea I was dealing with someone related to both the Dustiness and Sinfonia households!”

  The prosecutor had sure changed her tune in a hurry.

  It was those pendants that Darkness and Claire had given me. The moment she saw them, the woman just about threw herself on the ground apologizing.

  “Er, yeah, well, it’s true that we set off an explosion in the middle of the night. But…y’know. We had a good reason for it. We just can’t tell you what it is. Look, your country and ours are allies, right? Nobody’s supposed to know we’re here right now, so we’d like to keep this quiet…”

  “Yes, of course. I understand! This could be a diplomatic incident if not handled delicately! You can spare me the details!”

  Wow. Shows what noble privilege gets you. These items I’d obtained were so powerful, they could even silence a prosecutor.

  “Okay, so can we go home now?” I asked.

  The prosecutor smiled, practically relieved by the question. She made a point of seeing us to the door of the police station.

  And then it happened.

  “Ma’am, you said this bell was broken, but I’m afraid I can’t find any evidence of malfunction. For the time being, I’ll have it exchanged for good measure… Heeey, put this thing in the storage area; we’ll get a new one!”

  That was the guard from earlier, calling out to someone else.