C34 - Social Club (3)
The rumor spread quickly.
It was said that the notorious gang of seven, who had been indulging in luxury and villainy, was apprehended all at once.
Whenever three or more citizens of Underdog City gathered, they would discuss it.
"Those guys supposedly tried to approach the new subconsul in power, but got caught red-handed."
"Ah, those bastards who treated ordinary citizens like bugs? They've finally met their match this time."
"But what will happen to them? The new subconsul seems quite unusual in character. They won't just let them off the hook, right?"
"Well, even though they are the second generation of a local influential family, they'll probably receive just enough disgrace and be let go."
The murmurs naturally turned heads.
In the northern part of the central square, banners still fluttered in the wind.
<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0: Law Prohibiting Human Trafficking... Penalty: Execution>
<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0: Law Prohibiting Illegal Gambling... Penalty: Wrist Severance>
<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0: Law Prohibiting Illegal Finance... Penalty: Ocular Extraction>
<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0: Law Prohibiting Illegal Entertainment Establishments... Penalty: Facial Tattoo>
<Baskerville Autonomous Region Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0: Law Prohibiting Illegal Lobbying... Penalty: Exile>
...
As it had been from the beginning.
There were no exceptions in the law.
No provisions were found anywhere that granted leniency to the wealthy or forgiveness to the powerful.
The crimes committed by the apprehended seven noble heirs were undeniably clear.
They engaged in illegal entry to entertainment establishments, illegal lobbying, human trafficking, and were involved in the consumption and distribution of narcotics, all while profiting unlawfully.
Tax evasion, assault, and sexual violence were considered natural options.
Therefore, the penalties were also clear.
Capital punishment.
It was a price to pay that couldn't be escaped with any excuses or considerations.
People murmured.
"Do you think they'll really execute those seven members of the local influential families?"
"You fool, don't you know the character of the new subconsul? He's the one who drove 10 billion into a single stake!"
"Well, if they go as far as killing those seven scoundrels who hold sway over the world, the aftermath won't be a joke."
"Maybe they'll just give them a good beating and humiliation, but not go as far as execution?"
"Yeah, I don't think it'll come to that, no matter what."
Everyone voiced their opinions.
This was a power game between the new politicians and the local magnates. If the local magnates made a move and bowed their heads, everything would smoothly resolve, as people believed.
And as expected, Montblanc, Pierre, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Ferragamo, Hermes, and Prada conveyed their sincere apologies to the new subconsul.
The local powers bent and submitted.
Citizens who witnessed the extravagant carriages representing each family, laden with splendid offerings, making their way to the city hall amidst revelry simply shrugged and wagged their tongues.
Now the seven scoundrels who were once imprisoned will be released unscathed and will receive a severe scolding from their family boss fathers.
That's the end of it.
The local powers will somehow seek revenge for this humiliation or bow down and be cautious in the future, while the seven scoundrels will live quietly, repenting for a while.
The newly appointed young subconsul has achieved a splendid victory over the local magnates.
The citizens, too, will feel a reasonable sense of relief, anger, and eventually forgetfulness about this obvious outcome.
That's how it will be.
...
...No, I thought it would turn out that way.
Until this morning, before the seven heads were put on display in the center square.
Seven decapitated heads, salted and exhibited.
These beings, who had lost their bodies and only their heads remained, were contorted in immense agony until their last moments.
Underneath the heads, there was a notice hanging that detailed the additional punishments they received before their execution, in other words, the penalties they received before the death penalty.
<Baskerville Autonomous Province Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Entertainment Establishments... Penalty: Facial Tattoo>
※ In accordance with the aforementioned law, execution is carried out by tattooing the entire face with the word 'color'.
<Baskerville Autonomous Province Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Gambling... Penalty: Wrist Severance>
※ In accordance with the aforementioned law, execution is carried out by severing both wrists.
※ However, applying the number of times the law was violated retroactively, even after severing the wrists, further incremental severance is performed while leaving a certain length.
※ This prisoner received 72 instances of wrist severance.
<Baskerville Autonomous Province Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Finance... Penalty: Ocular Extraction>
※ In consideration of the petitions from those affected by these prisoners, execution is carried out without leniency.
<Baskerville Autonomous Province Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law Prohibiting Human Trafficking... Penalty: Capital Punishment>
※Executed according to the law.
<Baskerville Autonomous Province Constitution, Article 00, Clause 0. Law Prohibiting Illegal Lobbying... Penalty: Exile>
※Due to being deceased, only the body excluding the head is expelled beyond the city walls.
...
The citizens could do nothing but open their mouths wide in disbelief.
Since the law itself had existed before, there was no need to think that it was excessive or severe.
However, the problem lay in the fact that the prisoners who were subjected to the law were not ordinary prisoners who had been there before.
It was not a simple power game.
This was a battle of destruction that would continue until one of the two sides disappeared.
No one expected the storm of blood.
Shortly before the execution.
Vikir stood in front of the window bars of the underground prison.
Inside the prison, he could see the seven young lords groaning, their bodies covered in blood.
"...You, this life, I'll take it away from you, for my father."
"I want to get out of here, but how can I!"
"God, forgive us, we're begging for mercy!"
And in front of them stood Chihuahua Baskerville, unable to contain her distress.
"Oh, Subconsul. What made you treat these children like this?"
Her words seemed somewhat satisfying, as if she found it somewhat gratifying.
Beside her, Vikir, standing expressionless, suddenly turned his head.
"Do you think I went too far with these children?"
"Yes? Oh, of course! Even if you wanted to punish them, you should have done it in moderation. If you turn people into fried meat like this, how do you plan to handle the consequences later..."
Upon hearing that, Vikir smirked.
"Don't worry. We haven't even started yet."
"...What?"
Chihuahua asked with a perplexed expression.
Vikir didn't respond and pondered.
Originally, the Hyangcheong had the role of supervising and managing the corrupt local administration, promoting social reform, and coordinating with the city hall.
However, over time, they had become more and more corrupt, and now they even surpassed the power of the Sutje Baskerville family.
"We won't leave a single one behind!"
"Forget, forget them!"
"To hell with the cursed dog of the Hwangje family!"
Seeing them growl like this only confirmed it.
But Vikir, who bore their hatred alone, showed no signs of concern.
"When night falls, I will execute them all."
...!
At those words, the young lords inside the bars simultaneously fell silent.
Vikir spoke again.
"While I'm at it, I'll exterminate everyone from the club kids to the devils on the streets."
His words were chillingly sincere.
Everything would be carried out exactly as he said, without a single error, 100%.
The war against crime was declared.
The young lords momentarily wore dazed expressions, but now they desperately grabbed and shook the bars.
"Please, spare us!"
"Havermah! Haverman Bajsaeo!"
"They're all my no-eul dogs!"
"Let's plan their demise..."
Those who had always seen others as bugs now found themselves crawling on the ground like bugs.
Chihuahua felt an inexplicable mix of emotions.
Could there be such a satisfying sight in one's lifetime?
However, on the other hand, he was afraid of the retaliation from local indigenous forces.
Their revenge was ruthless and deadly.
From now on, no sponsor would support any business supervised by Vikir, and the attendance at the events he organized would undoubtedly be very low.
Trade with other cities would suffer, and revenue would decline significantly.
But Vikir was remarkably indifferent.
He seemed as prepared as someone who had taken all the necessary measures.
"Don't worry, Sumujang."
"...B-But..."
"Their families won't be able to protest."
"Really? Why is that?"
To Chihuahua's question, Vikir unusually and readily answered.
"They are involved with the Underdog City's various criminal organizations."
"What? H-How did the Subcónsul...?"
Vikir remained silent as it was not appropriate to reveal what he had seen before his regression.
Upon seeing this, Chihuahua spoke with a worried tone.
"But isn't it important to have evidence? And even if the evidence surfaces, we should be concerned about their potential retaliation."
"There are multiple options, so don't worry."
Vikir smiled.
If evidence can be found, it should be sought. And if it cannot be found, it can be fabricated.
And everything that would unfold afterwards was of no concern to Vikir.
That's because Vikir was already contemplating moving elsewhere.
"I don't know who will take over, but they'll have a hard time."
Hugo didn't think he would hold the position of Subcónsul for long.
In the rapidly changing world, there was a high possibility of being deployed to the actual battlefield in the near future.
So, even if he ran wild and acted according to his temperament here, it didn't matter much to Vikir's future.
At the very least, if he were to enter the Academy, he would have to leave this place immediately.
"So, it's best to establish a strong presence while serving as Subcónsul."
Even if there were some side effects, prescribing a potent medicine was the answer.
It would soon become his reputation and further brighten Vikir's career.
Regardless of who would come as a successor, it was not something he cared about. After all, Vikir disliked the members of the Baskerville family the most.
...But even a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
To achieve that, he had to expose the evidence that implicated these seven young lords... No, that they had made deals with criminal organizations, and even reveal their positions.
Vikir approached the prison bars and spoke.
"Tell me your charges."
"..."
"You illegally abducted and imprisoned women, committed sexual assault, coercion, forced drug administration, human trafficking, and induced prostitution, while bribing officials, engaging in assault, coercion, and even murder..."
Upon hearing this, the young lords protested.
"T-This... this is an outrage! If there's evidence, bring it forth and face the consequences!"
"So you're saying you'll face the consequences if there's evidence? You're claiming there's no evidence even though the crime exists?"
"W-Well..."
The young lords exchanged glances and hesitated.
Then, a determined look passed between them.
"Even if one of us dies here, we won't bring harm to our family."
If they revealed everything here, they wouldn't be able to seek revenge.
The family would turn against them, and considering Vikir's psychotic nature, he might go beyond that and apply the punishment system to the other families, uprooting them completely.
"Absolutely! We'll never talk!"
The seven ruffians sealed their lips, ready to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the family.
...But.
"Oh, you're finally here."
Vikir waved his hand towards the entrance of the underground prison corridor.
It seems that standing in front of the prison bars until now was to wait for someone.
"...?"
The seven young lords followed Vikir's gaze with curiosity and unease.
There, an elderly man with a disheveled appearance was walking towards them, carrying a large basket.
"Your custom-made order is complete, my lord."
The old man was a torture technician working in the city hall's underground.
And then...
Vikir overturned the basket, pouring its contents onto the shelf.
Shrrrrrrrrrrrr-
What came out were hundreds of swords.
Each one twisted, grotesque, bent, blunt, and jagged.
The old torture technician revealed his yellowed teeth and laughed.
"Oh my, these are strange contraptions I haven't seen in my thirty years of torture. How did you come up with such creepy devices?"
"They weren't personally invented. They were common tools in the place where I used to be."
"Ahaha... Was the place you were in hell, by any chance?"
"Well, it was similar. Would you like to learn a thing or two?"
"Uh, I'll pass. Just by looking at these devices, I can vaguely guess how they're used... But even I feel like I would vomit everything I've eaten if I were to use such devices."
Even the seasoned torture technician, who had tortured for thirty years, was appalled by these terrifying torture devices.
Vikir walked back to the prison bars, still holding those devices.
"...Heeek!"
Instinctively sensing something, the seven young lords hastily crawled away from the prison bars.
But cruelly...
...Clang!
Vikir forcefully pulled open the prison bars and entered.
Before his return, he reminisced about the faces of his former comrades.
"I miss them. Even prisoners of demons would spill military secrets one after another in front of their torture skills."
The torture techniques of the "Age of Destruction" were so fearsome that even demons from hell would wail and soil themselves.
As someone who had faced demons and possessed knowledge of future torture techniques that had advanced significantly in a short period of time, Vikir couldn't help but find the determined expressions of the young lords, who were standing before him, somewhat adorable.
"You're all making expressions as if you'll never yield."
Vikir spoke with a faint smile.
"...Please, don't torture us."
He meant it.
He wanted to savor the memories and nostalgia of the old days a little longer.
