"Kneel, you bastard!"

Thwack!

"Urgh!"

A middle-aged man collapsed powerlessly to the ground under the force of the Inquisitor's brutal kick.

Bound by chains on his wrists and ankles, the man could do nothing but endure the blows.

The sight that greeted Oscar as he rushed out after reviewing the new list of designated heretics was grim.

‘...McGuy.’

Oscar bit his lip as he took in the pitiful state of McGuy Zaborg, who had been arrested alongside other heretics.

Even as the Inquisitor-General, his authority couldn’t override the absolute orders of the higher council that designated heretics.

Oscar had no way of freeing McGuy.

"Inquisitor-General, sir!"

The Inquisitors, escorting dozens of bound heretics and suspects, saluted as Oscar approached.

He returned their salute with a grim expression, his face remaining stern.

"My, my. McGuy Zaborg, a heretic? How tragic."

Oscar’s lieutenant approached, pipe in mouth, smirking.

"Looks like we’ve lost a useful source of funding. What a pity."

It seemed the lieutenant assumed Oscar’s sour mood was due to losing an important “benefactor.”

"...Yeah."

Oscar pulled out his own pipe and lit it.

"Truly... tragic."

It was a goddamned reality.

After ordering the Inquisitors to treat McGuy with care, Oscar hurried back to his office and began scouring the historical records of past heretics.@@novelbin@@

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