Bad Born Blood Chapter 242

Chapter 242

I am trapped in a room that feels like an interrogation chamber.

Whirring.

A wall-mounted fan was spinning. The tal-bladed fan, seemingly untouched by cleaning, had thick, black dust clinging to it.

‘It’s stifling.’

I tapped the rim of the lukewarm glass of water and stared at the wall. Beyond that wall, Federation officials and bureaucrats were likely observing .

‘They must be assessing my worth.’

Ti dragged on. I waited for soone to enter.

‘The Emperor of the Empire wants .’

If they handed over to Ivan, the Empire would make significant concessions to the Federation.

‘But through , they could also dig into the darkness of the Empire.’

The Federation had to make a choice regarding my fate.

Would they recruit and take the lead in negotiations, or would they sell off for passive gains?

It was only natural that I referred to the latter in negative terms. From my perspective, that choice was far worse.

The mont I was dragged back to the Empire, I would beco nothing more than Ivan Accretia’s trophy and ornant. My free will would never function again.

The Federation was likely already engaged in negotiations with the Empire. Once those talks concluded, they would make contact with .

‘Damn, I really went all in on this one.’

I was now an undeniable enemy of the Empire. No matter the circumstances, making pathetic excuses was pointless. The fact remained—I had betrayed the Empire.

‘This is a gamble.’

Let’s assu the worst-case scenario. That was my specialty.

‘If the Federation decides to hand over to the Empire…’

Even if there was no hope, I would have to struggle.

Having finished running through these thoughts, I closed my eyes and drifted into a light sleep.

Creak.

The door opened.

Ismael La entered alone. By forgoing security detail, he was indirectly expressing his trust in .

‘Ismael La.’

It seed the Federation had assigned him as my handler. We were sowhat acquainted, and given the circumstances, Ismael was a competent bureaucrat.

"First of all, congratulations, Lukaus Custoria."

"Things must be unfolding in my favor."

"Yes, that’s correct. Whether you believe it or not is up to you, though."

"I have no reason not to believe you. I’m simply always cautious."

"There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. It’s probably because of that mindset that you’ve survived countless situations that would break an ordinary person after just one encounter."

Ismael complinted my abilities. For a brief mont, I almost felt pleased.

"I assu the investigation on is mostly complete."

"The more we investigate, the more questions arise about your background. But that only ans you have a great number of secrets. Please review the docunts we've compiled, and if you find any discrepancies, let us know."

Ismael placed a stack of docunts in front of . A record about .

I slowly flipped through the pages, reading the text.

‘There are gaps, but nothing is incorrect.’

An orphan from a lower-sector orphanage. Selected as a cadet for the Imperial Guard through the screening process. Stood out due to exceptional grades and abilities. Adopted into the Custoria family. Caught the eye of Crown Prince Francec and beca a political symbol...

‘The external details are thorough. They did their howork.’

After finishing the docunts, I handed them back to Ismael.

He pointed to the last section.

"Everyone assud you were either irreversibly incapacitated or dead. So why are you in Border City?"

A difficult question. I had to answer carefully.

"You can ask Jafa for details. I got caught up in various incidents myself. As you said, I was in a near-irreversible state, practically brain-dead. My mory cuts off at the Storm Era of Akbaran. When I regained consciousness, I was already in Border City."

It seed like a reasonable answer. Jafa was currently in critical condition and unconscious. It was a good way to obscure key details and buy ti.

"Hmm, you seem to have been active in Border City for quite so ti. You must have had a purpose."

"For now, I was working under Jafa’s request. She was searching for soone out of personal revenge. I’m an Akies Victima user. That makes an excellent detective and tracker."

"So, in the end, we’ll have to wait for Jafa to wake up to get the full story?"

"When it cos to why I’m here, Jafa’s answer will be more precise. But right now, Deputy Minister, isn’t your main concern what kind of information I can provide? You’re already well aware that the Empire was thrown into chaos during the Storm Era. The truth behind that is highly complex."

I noticed a change in Ismael’s gaze.

‘Focus.’

It might have been my imagination. But beyond that wall, I could sense a faint stir among the observers—small, almost imperceptible signs that were difficult to put into words.

"Emperor Ivan Accretia and the exiled Crown Prince Francec have an extrely complicated relationship. Ivan Accretia was never ant to be the official heir in the first place."

"Are you saying you know the truth behind that?"

"You don’t need to probe so desperately. Given my actions, you must have already realized that I’m involved. That’s why you’ve chosen to protect from the Empire."

Ismael pulled his chair back and sat down in front of .

Snap.

He flicked his fingers, and for a brief mont, the machines in the room emitted a burst of static noise.

"I just disabled all communication and recording devices. From this point on, our conversation stays between us. Now, would you like a smoke?"

Ismael placed a cigarette between his lips. I had only just learned that he was a smoker.

"I don’t smoke."

"That’s surprising."

Ismael glanced over. I was used to that kind of look.

"I hear that a lot."

Despite my refusal, he lit his cigarette. I resisted the urge to snatch it from him.

"I ask for your understanding. Right now, I need sothing to take the edge off. The situation is extrely complicated. The Empire is applying more pressure than expected."

"I’d prefer to think that ans I hold significant value."

"Yes, that’s how I see it. But the higher-ups, desperate to keep their positions, don’t necessarily agree."

Ismael exhaled a puff of smoke and chuckled. It seed he had truly shut down all monitoring systems.

"The leadership is scared, aren’t they?"

It was obvious.

"Exactly. The balance between the three powers is delicate, but in terms of sheer military strength, the Empire is dominant. Their system is simply better suited for war. Given the Empire’s aggressive stance, many officials are in favor of handing you over. Especially the old n who can’t even get it up anymore."

I suppressed a laugh and took a sip of my lukewarm water.

"The Empire won’t start a war just over . If anything, they won’t want this situation to escalate. I was quite popular among the lower-class citizens of the Empire. If word gets out that I defected and sought asylum in the Federation… that wouldn’t be good for their rule."

"I agree. If we grant you asylum but refrain from using it for propaganda, the Empire will likely stay quiet. The Emperor won’t risk massive political losses just to co after you. There’s plenty of room for negotiation."

Ismael was a rational man. The more I thought about it, the more I was reminded of the late Nikolaos Custoria. Competent bureaucrats all seed to share a similar aura.

"Even those cowardly, foolish old n should be able to understand that much. After all, they were once bright young n themselves."

"Probably. But I’d still like to have one more solid guarantee—proof that you can bring us tangible benefits."

Ismael pulled a portable ashtray and a deodorizing spray from his pocket. He crushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray, then sprayed the deodorizer over his mouth and body.

‘Smart move, Ismael.’

I couldn’t help but be impressed. He was cursing and blaming his superiors while securing practical gains for himself.

‘If you really want asylum, give us sothing valuable.’

That was the real aning behind Ismael’s words. He planned to extract information from before I even secured my asylum.

‘If it were Kinuan in my place…’

Kinuan was a good ntor. Whether he was my enemy or not didn’t matter. Even from an enemy, you had to learn what was worth learning.

‘Don’t panic. Always act as if you have the upper hand. Even if you’re standing at the edge of a cliff, make it seem like you have a hidden way out.’

If I caved to Ismael’s tactics and handed over information now, I’d be at their rcy forever.

Think of Hemillas. He crossed countless perilous bridges in pitch darkness, relying on sheer nerve. My pride wouldn’t allow to be a fool who sells himself short.

"If circumstantial evidence isn’t enough, then so be it. Being taken back to the Empire would be bad for , but not the worst outco. Even if the Federation abandons , I won’t die. The Empire still sees value in ."

Ismael flinched. He must have expected to give up at least one secret easily.

‘Sorry, but I don’t plan on handing over a single thing for free. I have no room for that kind of generosity.’

Ismael pulled out another cigarette and lit it. Smoke swirled between his fingers.

"Luka, are you serious? I’ll do everything I can, but…"

"Up until now, you’ve been testing my value and putting to the test. It’s only fair that I test your capabilities as well. If you can’t even persuade your superiors with this much leverage and end up being swayed by them… then my fate is obvious."

I spoke firmly.

"Luka, if I fail, you’ll be sent back to the Empire."

"Whether I’m handed over to the Empire or drained dry by the Federation, it’s all the sa to . I trust you won’t insult with nonsense about the Federation being more ethical than the Empire."

I crossed my arms, legs, and tilted my head slightly. They knew it too. Anyone at the level of the Imperial Guard had enough pride to risk death for it.

According to Ragnata’s classification, I was an honor-seeker. A man whose pride was the only thing keeping him from being a corpse.

‘If you want to send to hell, go ahead. I’ll die laughing.’

To put it bluntly, negotiation was all about nerve. It ca down to how much you were willing to lose.

"Luka, you’re clearly not just a soldier. The way you carry yourself now—it’s the attitude of soone who’s navigated countless political sches."

Ismael chuckled. This ti, he flicked his cigarette butt onto the floor and reached out for a handshake.

"Is this a deal?"

"Yes, it’s a deal. Truth be told, your asylum process is already underway. Convincing the old n was taken care of long ago. I talked a lot of shit about them, but they’re not that stupid. At any rate, you can trust my competence."

I took Ismael’s outstretched hand.

"I hope we can have a good working relationship, Deputy Minister."

It had been a while since I’d said sothing so formal. Then again, in the Empire, dealing with superiors I had to respect had been part of daily life.

"Shall we issue your new identification under Lukaus Custoria?"

Ismael asked as he stood by the door.

I hesitated for a mont. Lukaus Custoria—yes, that was a na that referred to . It wasn’t wrong.

I liked the Custoria family. For Hemillas’s sake, I wanted to ensure their survival and prosperity.

But I wasn’t bound by the Custoria na. It alone couldn’t define .

Who was I, really?

"…Just put Luka."

I still didn’t know.