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THE INTERVIEW INVESTIGATION STALLS

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*****

Three days later, the Interworld Train arrived at the next world.

It was in a forest near a large town surrounded by steep, snowy mountains. It was the largest castle town in a world entirely covered in ice and snow, but in this world where steam engines had only just been born, only a handful of sages knew of the Interworld Train’s existence.

The freezing blizzard that had kept this world’s development in check quickly painted the Interworld Train white as it stopped, having materialized a station sign and platform. Several ghosts and Pamela stepped down onto that platform, which was on the verge of a whiteout.

「――Pamela-chan, thank you. And everyone else, thank you too.」

The one who said this on behalf of the ghosts was the young woman who had been complaining about wanting alcohol and sweets earlier. Now, she wore an expression so serene, it was hard to imagine the rowdy figure she had cut just a short while ago.

The ghosts knew that their home village, located even further north than this town in the sub-zero temperatures, had been swallowed by war and destroyed over a century ago. Even so, without a single word of resentment, they stared toward the north where their village would have been, and began to ascend to heaven.

With large tears welling in her eyes, Pamela watched the ghosts depart until she could no longer see or feel them.

***

Once the ghosts ascended, the Interworld Train departed for the next world to get back on its original schedule.

「Th-thank you... for your... coope...ration...」

Pamela returned with a tearful smile, her face covered in snow, her tears and snot frozen stiff. Arcelia hurried to hand her a towel and pushed Pamela—who was hesitant—into the sauna that came equipped in every car.

Listening to Pamela’s sobbing, which sounded like retching, from behind the sauna door, Arcelia steeled herself, returned to the cabin, and resumed the hearings.

But, whether they knew of Pamela and Arcelia’s feelings or not, the ghosts began to make a scene again.

「My right hand throbs. Where is the holy sword that once slaughtered the Demon King?」

「Boredom leads people to foolish acts... indeed. It seems I, too, am about to run down that path.」

「...I’m bored.」

「...Nnngh.」

Some ghosts were already tied up and enjoying it, but others, having finished their hearings or waiting for their turn, were killing time.

While Pamela, having returned from the sauna, was fluttering about in a panic and Arcelia was continuing the interviews at her own pace, Rob, who was just as bored as the ghosts, decided to make a move.

He wasn't used to the hearings to begin with. He was completely fed up.

It felt awkward to go to the lounge as usual in front of Arcelia, who was burning with a sense of duty, so Rob attempted to head there under the guise of taking a break.

But perhaps sensing his suspicious movements, the ghosts started to sneak along behind him.

「That’s not fair, is it?」

Berta followed along, as a matter of course. Well, that shouldn't be a problem, he told himself.

「――Danger and mercy are part of a journey. Without them, there’d be no point in enjoying the indulgence.」

The stout, middle-aged man poured wine for Berta and laughed heartily. It sounded like the ramblings of a drunkard, but the man was dead serious. He had signed several contracts in advance and had even written his will.

「This, this smells lovely.」

Berta swirled the wine she had been treated to by the middle-aged man in her glass.

「I should think so. It was made to celebrate the 900th anniversary of the Alliance’s founding. It was born from the grapes of five different worlds, and even now, nearly a hundred years later, it reigns supreme as the most suitable variety for wine.」

The middle-aged man had accepted Berta effortlessly, even knowing she was a bounty head.

「How about this distilled liquor, too? It’s aged twenty years in barrels made from the old branches of a World Tree. It’s young, yes, but I believe it is excellent. Since it’s only produced in small quantities at a tiny distillery in a forest filled with blue mist, it hasn’t made a name for itself, but I dare say it is the finest in all the Alliance-affiliated nations.」

「Oh my, you’re right. It’s delicious.」

She wasn't exactly aggressively courting the men, but the alcohol-loving men had gathered around Berta anyway.

Berta, a wanted fugitive, was sitting there in shackles, entertaining them. The men who frequented the lounge were immediately captivated by the somewhat immoral nature of the situation.

Of course, she didn't forget to serve the ghosts who had come to the lounge with her, offering them drinks that had been magically processed so that even spirits could consume them.

The four-armed widow had also come with her children, and was chatting happily with the other ghosts who weren't drinking, a little distance away.

As for Rob, he was busy dealing with the ghosts who wanted to hear about him killing the Demon King.

Incidentally, the lecherous ghost who jumped at any pretty woman he saw had tried to jump at the widow here, too, but the train's security equipment reacted, and he was rolled up in a mat and tossed aside in an instant.

「...This is not good. I demand a do-over by that widow.」

No one paid him any mind, though.

The following day, late in the afternoon.

To silence the unusually energetic ghost from earlier, Rob changed his schedule and conducted the hearing himself.

「――My name is Harlequin. It happened back when I was a student.」

Rob had expected him to say something about wanting a "cutie" to take his statement, but Harlequin began to talk surprisingly easily, and Rob listened, feeling a bit surprised.

Harlequin had been summoned on his way home from university. An ordinary college student was summoned to a small country, and the fate of the entire world was entrusted to him.

Harlequin set off with several other summoned individuals from other countries, and after numerous trials and hardships, finally defeated the Demon King.

But that wasn't the end of it.

Countries began to fight over hegemony in the wake of the Demon King’s demise. Because the Demon King had invaded, the old national borders had become blurred, and countries utilized this as a pretext.

The country that summoned Harlequin was a neutral nation like Switzerland; it hadn't engaged in any aggression, but the tides of the era swallowed them up without mercy.

Harlequin’s unique ability, which had slaughtered even the Demon King, was powerful, and he stood united with the people, facing the national crisis. By then, he had already given up on returning home and decided to live in that country.

Harlequin stood on the front lines, the politicians used their political power to build cooperative relationships with summoned individuals from other countries, and the citizens supported it with taxes and military strength.

Harlequin killed, and killed, and killed the invaders. Believing that was the only way to protect the people who relied on him.

But that meant killing the very people he had once protected. He had defeated the Demon King to save everyone in the world from the Demon King’s threat. Even if they were invaders, they were people he had once protected.

Harlequin was worn down by countless battles.

At one point, he wavered for just a moment.

It was a woman he had traveled with and shared a moment of affection with long ago.

And then, he was killed from behind. By one of the men who had once helped him defeat the Demon King.

But for some reason, he felt a sense of liberation.

What followed next was a sense of apology toward the remaining people. Strangely, there was no hatred.

It began to rain.

He thought it would wash away the blood. When he managed to lie on his back, the rain intensified.

But it wasn't rain; it was the man's tears.

Rob finished writing the report, keeping his emotions out of it, aiming for a report-like style. It was the first time he’d written a report since before he was reincarnated.

「Alright, let me see.」

Rob was a little surprised. The ghosts had shown interest in talking, but they had never shown interest in written reports.

He translated the hearing record written in Hanoverian into a language Harlequin could read. Arcelia did that for him using her book-shaped terminal.

Harlequin read the translated report, but flatly rejected it with a few words.

「Hmm, I don't like this.」

He didn't like the report-style writing.

「Good grief, how do you want me to write it?」

Rob suggested a diary style, or a first-person/second-person "fake novel" style, but Harlequin threw a tantrum saying that wasn't it either.

「You know, like... how do I put it? The emotion? The sensitivity?」

「Impossible. I’m not a poet or a novelist. Make Arcelia write it.」

Rob, who had only gotten used to writing to the extent of a travel diary, couldn't possibly write text that expressed another person’s inner turmoil in such fine detail.

「Well, I’d love to tell that cutie in detail, but that’s just impossible.」

Harlequin begged him to write it, but Rob shook his head, saying it was impossible.

Pamela appeared, having heard the commotion, and after apologizing from the bottom of her heart as usual, she displayed that brazen persistence of hers.

「It doesn't have to be perfect. Can’t you just play along? It only has to be until we reach their home.」

Rob had a bad feeling and looked at Arcelia, who—without even being asked—followed up on her senior's words.

「No problem. I’ll handle the hearings for the rest of them.」

Rob glared at Pamela with a fed-up, resentful look.

「I, I’m so sorry. But, to me, they’re like family. I just want to fulfill the last wishes of my family, if nothing else.」

Her ears and tail were drooping, but her eyes were looking at Rob with complete sincerity.

Rob scratched his head, looking troubled. He couldn't help but feel a little something for Pamela.

"Bloodline of the Dead."

That was Pamela’s unique ability.

She could see ghosts, talk to them, and make them visible to others. She was also skilled at striking down vengeful spirits, but her greatest ability was that she could bind ghosts, command them, and borrow their power. This included the unique abilities that the ghosts themselves had possessed in life.

However, because it was a powerful ability, it was difficult to handle. Pamela, who disliked conflict and lacked assertiveness, couldn't control the ghosts, and the ability was going to waste.

In that state, as a result of her desperate wish to send the ghosts home, the unused abilities of the ghosts had mixed together, and purely to fulfill Pamela’s wish, it had pulled in the Interworld Train.

In other words, the ghosts' power was Pamela’s power.

The act of sending those ghosts home meant that Pamela was personally whittling away at her own power.

It was almost the same as Rob, whose ammunition decreased the more he used it.

She was gradually becoming powerless.

She was prepared for that, and there was no way Pamela’s wish to send the ghosts home was a light one.

「...Ah, geez. Fine. If I can write it, I’ll write it. That’s enough, right?」

When Rob said that in a fit of desperation, Pamela and Harlequin joined hands and rejoiced.

「...」

Berta, lying on Rob’s bed, watched the whole exchange—from Pamela’s wish to Rob’s surrender—with a bored expression.

*****

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