Editing Tytania:Volume 2 Chapter 2 (section)

=== III ===
It was on Friday the 1<sup>st</sup> of September that Fan Hyulick found himself forced to postpone his meeting with Amzekar, which was due to take place the following day. He had encountered a certain man.

The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties. Although his features were not unattractive, there was something about him that strangely aroused Fan Hyulick’s animosity.

They met at a pub called the “Chance Encounter Pavilion”. Hyulick and Miranda had gone there to book a table to meet Amzekar and to do some preliminary research, but although they had taken precautions, their preparations were not entirely foolproof.

While Miranda was negotiating with the innkeeper, Hyulick was sipping rye whisky at a table in the corner of the pub. Suddenly, a figure appeared from across the room and sat down without so much as a word. Hyulick was forced to look at something he would rather not have seen. A grey military uniform and a man who seemed to take pride in it. Observing his expression, the Tytanian confirmed in a drawling tone:

“So you’re the idiots who’ve rebelled against Tytania and are now playing heroes, aren’t you?”

“You’re the idiot who’s had a dog collar placed by Tytania around your neck and are pretending to be her loyal subject, aren’t you?”

Both finding the other’s vitriol tiresome, Fan Hyulick and the Tytanian exchanged hostile glances. Having missed his chance to flee, Fan Hyulick had no choice but to look for an opportunity to strike back. It was still unclear whether his opponent was armed.

Even if he were to live for five hundred years, there was no way he could ever become acquainted with this man. Fan Hyulick was well aware of that fact. He could never possibly get on with the sort of person who took pleasure in being collared and chained. That very temperament would in the end, shape his life, and influence the course of history. As Hyulick stood up, the man rose as well, as if to counter him, and introduced himself without being asked:

“I am the secretary to His Excellency Donald Farah, Counsellor to Tytania’s Clanner.”

''“So he’s a retainer of a retainer of Tytania”'', thought Fan Hyulick with malice. The malice was even stronger on the man’s part. The man licked his lips and issued a warning.

“Your run of devil’s luck is over now. Duke Zarlisch Tytania will tear you to pieces with his brute strength. He seeks revenge for his cute little brother.”

The word “cute” was laced with something that was neither poison nor miasma. The strained relationship between Zarlisch and Arses was a well-known fact within Tytania. Hyulick saw the man’s expression change drastically as he delivered this news.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Miranda. She had just finished her negotiations with the innkeeper and was leaving the office. Her eyes were ablaze with fury. The man suddenly staggered. He was trying to make a run for it.

“Wait!”

It was as if her voice solidified and was hurled at him. The man dressed in a Tytanian uniform, staggered, turned pale, and exuded panic and terror from every pore of his body.

With his eyes and mouth wide open, he tried to turn away but fell over with a thud. Miranda had grabbed a vase from the desk and hurled it; the vase roared as it flew through the air, striking the man on the head and shattering.

“Who the hell is this guy?”

When Fan Hyulick posed this obvious question, Miranda replied over her shoulder:

“Someone I need to take revenge against for my husband!”

With those words, Fan Hyulick understood.

Captain Casimir, Miranda’s husband, had his vocal cords destroyed on the orders of Count Arses Tytania. Although it was Arses who had ordered it, someone carried out that cruel command, and Miranda had been tracking him down. Although his affiliation within Tytania had changed, and he must have felt at ease, he had unexpectedly found himself face-to-face who wanted revenge. It was a one-in-a-million chance, but perhaps the name of the establishment had brought good fortune to one and misfortune to the other.

“Well, we finally met again. It’s a wonder you’ve managed to stay safe and sound all this time without having any accidents.”

No matter how carefully she chose her words, it was clear that Her Highness Princess Miranda was seething with a passion for vengeance. The Tytanian man dragged to his feet amidst shards of a vase and a small pool of blood, forgot the pain of his wounds and began to defend himself desperately.

“Wait! It was the Count Arses Tytania who did it. I was merely following orders!”

“That perverted count paid for his sins with his life. Now it’s your turn. In this world, we must stick to the proper order of things, right?”

As Miranda grabbed him by the collar and began to drag him away, the Tytanian lackey let out a scream. It was a truly pitiful, pleading scream, but it failed to lure Miranda into the trap of sentimentality. Miranda simply laughed off the man’s cheap theatrics.

“Ah, what a fine scream. My husband was made unable to scream, no matter how terribly he was being treated. I’m sure he’s longing for some company.”

At that moment, the wall of onlookers who had been laughing and watching from the sidelines suddenly crumbled. Amidst the violent clamour, shouts of “It’s the Tytanians” rang out.

Countless grey military uniforms surged forth. It was as though a gigantic, foam-like monster had appeared. Uniforms, discipline and obedience, these three elements had transformed the soldiers of Tytania into expressionless, semi-mechanical beings.

Miranda shot a sharp glance out of the window. Beyond the toughened glass separating the shop from the street, a sea of grey figures was thronging.

“Run, Hyulick! They’re after you!”

There was no doubt that Miranda was right about this. Fan Hyulick leapt aside. A hard rubber truncheon swept horizontally across the spot where his head had been just half a second earlier. He sharply swept his own leg out to stagger his opponent off balance.

The Tytanian soldier toppled to the floor like a rotten pillar. His scream was drowned out by another as Miranda took the blow of the rubber baton across the face of her prisoner. The unfortunate man had his nasal bridge shattered by a comrade’s rubber baton; his face stained red, he lost consciousness.

“Don’t shoot them. Keep them alive, it’s an absolute order. If you disobey, Tytania’s wrath will definitely fall upon your heads.”

The mere mention of “Tytania’s wrath” brought the soldiers’ movements to a halt. The one issuing this order from outside the maelstrom of chaos was a middle-aged man clad in a nondescript business suit. He muttered under his breath:

“Goodness me, what a tedious job. No room for ingenuity, nor any opportunity to be creative. Anyone would do that kind of job, not just me.”

Then, as if regaining his composure, the man raised his voice.

“It doesn’t matter if you shoot the others. They’re vermin who’d be of no benefit to society if left alive. Eradicate them thoroughly while you’re at it.”

This man was none other than Mr&nbsp;Donald Farah, Tytania’s foremost election strategist in Tytania, if not in the universe. As he held action and terrorism in contempt, this order felt crude and brutal compared to his usual election campaigns. He wanted to get this trivial task out of the way as quickly as possible so he could return to his proper duties.

Elections to renew half the delegates from the planet Bargash were due in twenty days time, and without Farah’s skilful intervention, there was a strong likelihood that the pro-Tytania faction would lose seats. Compared to that excitement and thrill, the action unfolding before Farah’s eyes was nothing but a noisy distraction.

Of course, for Fan Hyulick and Miranda, that commotion was directly linked to their fate. The pair swam through the crowd, punching and kicking, ducking to avoid blows, landing elbow strikes, and snatching their opponents’ rubber truncheons to land a blow of their own.

Farah was forced to click his tongue some forty times in all. Yet “being outnumbered” was one of the greatest truths governing the balance of power amongst men. The mass of grey military uniforms surged towards the rebels like a rising tide, engulfing them, bearing down upon them and pinning them down.

Although several were shoved aside and fended off, they ultimately succeeded only halfway in their mission. While they managed to pin the man to the floor, the woman slipped through the swarm of soldiers with the swiftness and cunning of a witch, and managed to escape.

Thus, following his recent capture by Count Arses Tytania, Fan Hyulick found himself seized once more, this time by the count’s elder brother, Duke Zarlisch Tytania.