Chapter 29: The Man Who Speaks in Numbers
The manor’s reception room, so lively just hours earlier, was now filled with a chilling tension.
Outside, darkness had already fallen. The glow of a single lamp dimly illuminated the map of the territory spread across the table.
Gathered around it stood Zenon, Liliana, Marc, and Gray. Behind Liliana stood the captain of her knightly escort, his face grim.
“Report, Marc.”
Zenon’s calm voice broke the silence.
Marc, pale and trembling, pointed to a spot on the map.
“Y-Yes, my lord. The plague has been confirmed in the eastern part of the territory, in Holz Village near the forest. This afternoon, three residents reported high fever and rashes. A short while ago, one of them… passed away.”
“…No…”
A pained whisper escaped Liliana’s lips. The color drained from her face, and her eyes shimmered with sorrow for the suffering villagers.
But Zenon’s expression did not waver.
Interrupting Marc’s report, he unfurled a parchment covered in dense figures and diagrams.
“Holz Village—population 231. Primary industries: forestry and hunting. Sanitary conditions—among the worst in the territory. Given those variables, this is the projected model if a highly contagious disease emerges there.”
He pointed at a sharply rising graph.
“If the incubation period averages three days, and each patient infects two others, then—without intervention—half the village will be infected within seven days. By the tenth day, total annihilation.”
His tone was devoid of emotion. He simply recited data— and yet the meaning behind those numbers was unbearably heavy.
“Wh–what are you saying!?”
Liliana’s voice trembled with disbelief.
“People are dying! And you talk as though this were some game of numbers!”
“This is no game. It’s analysis.”
Zenon’s reply came instantly, flat and unfeeling.
“The first step to solving any problem is to grasp reality objectively and quantitatively. Wailing over the dead revives no one. Emotion is inefficient—and meaningless.”
The sheer coldness of that reasoning left Liliana speechless.
This man… saw human lives as nothing more than cost and data points.
Whatever faint hope she’d begun to feel during the past days of inspection now shattered—replaced by fury and despair.
As she thought before: He truly is a demon.
A cold-blooded monster without a human heart.
“Furthermore, the risk extends beyond Holz Village.”
Zenon traced a line across the map.
“The village’s lumber is transported by road to the central markets. As long as there is movement of people and goods, the infection will spread. In the worst-case scenario, within a month, ten percent of the territory’s population—around two thousand people—will die.”
“Please, stop!”
Liliana covered her ears as if to block out the words.
“I didn’t come here to hear about grim predictions! I’m asking what we can do now to save those who are suffering this very moment!”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“I have sacred power—divine healing granted by God Himself! I’ll go to Holz Village right away. With my power, I will save them!”
Her words were filled with faith and an unshakable sense of duty.
But Zenon cut through her conviction with a single, cold rejection.
“Denied.”
“…What?”
“Your proposal is irrational.”
Zenon met her eyes, his voice steady and merciless.
“What is the capacity of your healing ability? How many severe cases can you completely cure in one day? Ten? Twenty? The infection spreads exponentially. Your individual skill will reach its limit quickly. It’s like trying to bail water from a sinking ship with a teacup.”
“You—!”
“Furthermore,”
He continued.
“We must consider the risk of you becoming a vector yourself. By entering the village, making contact with numerous patients, and then returning, the pathogens on your clothing or body could trigger the next outbreak. An act of kindness could end in catastrophe. History is littered with such examples.”
Zenon’s logic was flawless—airtight, merciless.
It was a reality Liliana had never even considered.
She had always believed that her divine power, her goodwill, would save people.
But this man had reduced even that goodwill to a “risk factor.”
“Then what do you intend to do!?”
Liliana demanded, her voice trembling with outrage and desperation.
“Will you just stand there and watch people die—reducing them to numbers in your calculations!?”
Zenon nodded slightly, as though they had finally reached the real discussion.
“Of course not. Countermeasures will be taken—the most rational, and the most effective ones.”
He circled Holz Village on the map with a red pen.
“First… we completely seal off Holz Village.”
The weight of those words struck the room like ice.
Liliana gasped—already sensing the horror of the plan about to be revealed.
Their ideals—her compassion and his logic— were about to collide head-on, irreconcilable, on a line that could never meet.