Became the Villainess’s Guardian

Freugne slowly opened her mouth.

“So, the most important question is – do these ringleaders seem like members of the Demonic Tribe?”

While the cause of mental disturbances need not necessarily be the Demonic Tribe, such drastic and jarring transformations did strongly suggest their involvement.
No, Ulr was almost certain of it, with several grounds for his conviction.

One, that he had brought something called “Communism” Ulr had never heard of nor seen before.
One, that his head and waist were perpetually concealed by a cap and clothing, never once revealed.
And one, that he was preparing to undertake some organized endeavor in Londinium by gathering the entranced individuals.

And.

‘Ulr. Could you use this money to buy some bread?’

‘Me? Why?’

‘We’re comrades now, after all.’

‘…Understood.’

One, for that Demonic Tribe-like personality, devoid of ulterior motives.

Thus, Ulr nodded confidently and stated:

“In my opinion, yes.”

“Then I’d like to have the one in the white suit brought in, but since he hasn’t shown himself lately, bring this Hugo instead.”

“Understood. I’ll have him ready within two days.”

Ulr vanished as swiftly as he had appeared.
Any task entrusted to him was always reliably handled, so all Freugne had to do now was wait for Hugo to be delivered before her.

At this point, Freugne had one concern.

One way or another, the Demonic Tribe’s machinations would ignite a rebellion, strike, or some other incident in Londinium.

Freugne could hardly be unaware of what even Professor Magni had already perceived.
Going a step further, unlike the professor limited to mere speculation, she possessed unwavering certainty.

Naturally, rather than speculating, she could simply glimpse the future by grabbing hold of Ulr, Sithe, Edan, or anyone closest to her.

“So what should I do now……”

Swinging her legs on the chair, Freugne became lost in thought.
She knew she held the key to this incident.

If she deliberately turned a blind eye to these impoverished masses,
while they may not possess military-grade forces capable of engulfing the entire kingdom in red, they could temporarily occupy Londinium and establish a new government.

Conversely, if she were to instruct the newspapers to put this news on their front pages from now,
within a few days, the police would storm the East End, causing a temporary uproar before the incident was swiftly and coldly extinguished as if nothing had happened.

This was precisely it.
Freugne desired this power to control every aspect of Londinium.

While not to an absolute degree, she could largely achieve her desires without exerting significant effort.
For instance, if she so willed, she could shred Edan’s lineage within 12 hours, be it physically or administratively.

“Sithe.”

“Yes?”

“What do you think I should do?”

“M-may I voice my opinion……”

“By all means. I won’t take issue with whatever you say.”

“I think… it would be best for Londinium to remain safe… Oh! But that doesn’t mean imprisoning everyone, of course.”

“Because they’re victims of the Demonic Tribe, correct. I have no intention of holding them all accountable either.”

What Freugne desired was a middle ground.

While she did not wish for Londinium’s utter destruction, such incidents would undoubtedly lead to the establishment of new laws and regulations.

There was also a need to instill vigilance towards the Demonic Tribe.
Witnessing them roaming the kingdom’s capital as if it were their own domain, one had to wonder if peace had truly lasted that long. Could the place where she and Edan would continue to reside remain so perilous?

“If I can just resolve this, everything will surely be alright.”

“Pardon? Did you say something to me?”

“No, just talking to myself.”

If she could just resolve this, everything would surely be alright.
For no dark future awaited, or so Freugne repeatedly muttered to herself in an attempt at self-reassurance, yet a faint unease lingered.

Despite appearances, Hugo was one of the most erudite members of the Demonic Tribe.
The very fact that the humans he regularly encountered did not comment on his speech was proof of his fluency in foreign languages.

Hence, no one remarked on his wearing a tattered baker’s cap, nor did they make any remarks about the conspicuous bulge on his back beneath his coat, as if something had been attached.

Hugo had seamlessly blended into the slums, unlike his obstinate senior who insisted on that pristine white suit as if plagued by mysophobia. Perhaps he could even hope for a promotion if he returned safely.

As the name “Greater Glassgow Kingdom Operations Planning Department” to which he belonged implied, Hugo was a civil servant.
Working for the Demon King, he naturally harbored monarchist tendencies, if only to preserve his own head in the literal sense, and had never found such sentiments particularly strange.

However, observing Londinium, where distinguishing between the capital of humanity or a sewer had become increasingly difficult, the thought crept in: ‘Perhaps this is indeed fitting for those humans?’

And who knew? If they sampled it and found no adverse effects, perhaps it could be introduced among the Demonic Tribe as well-

“…No! No! Get a grip!”

Slap slap
Hugo struck his own cheeks, regaining his wavering composure.

Showing the magic tome to someone meant being exposed to its influence himself.
Of course, the effect could not compare to those who had directly perused its contents, but his mind too was slowly being devoured by the tome.

Still, for now, he could maintain his sanity.
He could not guarantee what might happen if this situation persisted for months, however.

‘When is the next infiltrator arriving? I’m going to lose my mind at this rate.’

The slum environment combined with the magic tome had taken a double toll on his psyche.
Hugo finally understood why his predecessor, the man in the white suit, had carelessly handed over the magic tome and essentially abandoned the mission during the handover process.

Any pleas to his superiors would only yield the same cold response – that everything would end soon, so he should endure a bit longer.

As he bit his lip and paced in circles, a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hugo. Let’s talk for a moment.”

“So, your name was… Ulr, was it?”

While Ulr had only joined their community two months ago, he had been so fervently proselytizing communism to those around him that Hugo had committed his name to memory.

Seated atop a worn crate in the deserted alley, Hugo continued:

“What is it?”

“I’d like to know a bit about your plans. When can we overthrow Londinium and usher in a new era?”

“I apologize, but that will require a bit more time. Our forces have not yet fully assembled, you see.”

“I see.”

“I understand your eagerness. However, I can assure you that the greater the patience, the greater the rewards that will come. Does this answer suffice?”

“So you have no immediate plans for action. Whether or not your answer suffices is beside the point. There is one more thing I wish to ask.”

“Speak.”

“Could you remove your cap? I’ve never once seen you without it on, and it’s rather vexing.”

This was tantamount to demanding he out himself as a member of the Demonic Tribe.

“This cap, you say? That would be… rather difficult.”

“Is that truly not possible?”

“No. For you see, from the very beginning, you had no interest in this cap, did you?”

Hugo inwardly heaved a sigh.
While he had previously suppressed Ulr with his scholarly authority, he ultimately had no viable excuse.

Ulr’s mind had likely already been partly consumed by the magic tome, so further scrambling it would hardly make a difference.

“Look me directly in the eyes.”

To reiterate, Hugo was an intellectual.
In other words, he had studied magic. Even his ill-tempered superiors were not so incompetent as to dispatch a powerless individual deep behind enemy lines.

And as Hugo’s eyes flickered crimson,

Swish!

Ulr spun around to avert his gaze while snatching a wooden rod lying nearby and swinging it at the back of Hugo’s head.

Accompanied by a crisp sound, the shattered rod clattered to the ground as Hugo clutched his slightly bleeding head and exclaimed:

“What is the meaning of this?!”

“Sturdier than expected.”

Whoosh!

“Could it be…?!”

With the blunt weapon gone, fists began flying instead.

When Ulr had insisted on removing the cap, Hugo had thought ‘Surely not,’ but had he truly deduced Hugo’s Demonic Tribe identity here in Londinium?
His hostile reaction suggested he had not properly read the magic tome. Or perhaps, if not for that very reason, he would have no cause to abruptly attack.

Thud

“…What was that?”

To make matters worse, in the very moment Ulr took a step forward, his form vanished from sight.

Wondering if he had imagined it, Hugo blinked rapidly, but nothing changed. Even scanning the alley, he was the only one present.

Thud

Thud thud

‘Footsteps.’

And yet, Ulr was there. He had simply become invisible.

So if he could make eye contact at the right moment and cast a spell, he would win.
Afterwards, he could thoroughly investigate who was behind this, and once their usefulness had been exhausted, roughly dispose of them to silence any loose ends.

However, one problem remained:

‘How does one eliminate an unseen enemy?’

Even as Hugo cheerfully contemplated his plans, Ulr’s knee had somehow materialized before his eyes.

“You little-”

Choke!

“Guh…!”

While Hugo possessed the enhanced physique befitting a Demonic Tribe member, superior to ordinary humans, having his jaw cleanly struck still rendered him helpless.
His body went flying, crashing into a pile of garbage in a corner of the alley.

“…Huff, you can come out now.”

“Is it over?”

“Yes.”

At Ulr’s brief, deep exhalation, the organization members emerged from nearby buildings to join him.

It was only after reaching this point that Ulr bothered to lift the cap firmly secured to Hugo’s head.

Above his forehead, meticulously concealed even by binding it with a rubber band beneath the cap, protruded a pair of rigid horns about two finger-widths long.
His hair had been so tightly compacted under the cap for such an extended period that it had solidified into that very shape.

“…Truly a member of the Demonic Tribe.”

“Who would have thought they’d be in Londinium of all places.”

“We have no time for idle chatter. Quickly, check if he has wings as well.”

“Let’s see… Yes, there’s a pair of bat-like wings around his waist. No wonder he seemed so uncomfortable with them confined like that.”

The feeling of mere suspicion could never compare to witnessing an actual Demonic Tribe member.
More akin to a sentient beast rather than a foreigner, the Demonic Tribe were regarded as animals imbued with intelligence. To Ulr, it was like witnessing a man-eating beast that had escaped from the zoo.

While such a beast might have been a spectacle while unconscious, there was no telling when someone might stumble upon this alley.
The organization members swiftly and efficiently crammed Hugo’s body into a large sack. Being non-human, they showed no particular care in avoiding broken limbs, quickly completing the task.

“Done.”

“Alright, let’s head back. You two, stay behind to clean up and join us later.”

“Yes!”

Ulr dragged the sack along the ground and dropped it before Freugne.
The Hugo that tumbled out had a head shaped like a cap, with a squarely jutting jaw that made him look like he had arrived straight from Legoland.