Project Necro is an official initiative by Re:Library.

And so, the defense of Lüenheit ended anticlimactically. But as always, the post-battle clean-up was proving to be the real headache.
Most of the townspeople didn’t know exactly what had happened—but they could tell a battle had taken place outside.
And when it comes to those who oppose the Demon Lord’s army, of course, that means humans.
They were bound to realize that we had killed humans in battle.

Even if it was a legitimate war from our perspective, to the citizens, it’s still “monsters killing humans.” That hits differently than a war between humans.
Now then, what to do?

I went to check on the burial site outside the city walls where my subordinates had interred the dead. It was a decent enough grave.
Still, I wish they’d at least put up a headstone or something… It felt too impersonal. I suppose that’s the difference between werewolves and humans.
I’ll ask the city’s stonemason guild about it later.
After offering a moment of silence to the soldiers who had just been fighting moments ago, I headed to the governor’s mansion.
Ah, better switch back to human form before I get there.

As soon as I walked into the mansion, a furious voice rang out: “Veit!!”

It was Big Sis Fern, storming toward me while dragging the Garne brothers behind her.
I hadn’t seen her this angry in probably ten years. What happened?

“Veit, sit down. Now!”

Wait… I’m the one getting yelled at?

I didn’t know why, but I knew better than to defy Big Sis Fern.
I sat down like she told me to and looked up at her.

“W-what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?! You’re seriously asking that?!”

She slammed her hands on the desk. Garne (the older brother) was still clinging to her arm and got shaken around in the process.

“Veit! I heard you charged into enemy lines during the fight!”
“Y-yeah…”

I nodded sheepishly.
Her eyes immediately sharpened and pierced right through me.

“As the commanding officer, you’re not supposed to jump into a melee! What would we do if something happened to you?! Who would control the skeleton soldiers?!”

She had a point. I’d completely forgotten that I was in charge of an army.
Ever since I reincarnated as a werewolf, I’ve noticed I tend to get a little too hyped when combat starts.
Even though I have memories from my past life, my brain now is that of a werewolf. Maybe it’s just pumping out adrenaline like crazy or something. Fascinating.

“Are you listening?!”
“Y-yes, ma’am!”

I straightened my back and responded instinctively in formal language.
Still dragging the burly Garne brothers on either side, Fern leaned in close to me.

“You’re not just the neighborhood little Veit anymore, you know? You’re our boss now.”
“Yeah… you’re right.”

It was entirely my mistake.

Seeing my expression, Fern softened her tone.

“Seriously, be careful, okay? You’re the only one we can count on. We don’t know how to deal with humans…”

She had a point. If I were gone, no one would be able to carry on our current occupation strategy. I could easily imagine how things would unravel.
So I bowed my head deeply to her.

“I’m sorry, Fern. That was careless of me. I’ll stick to commanding from now on.”
“Good. Leave the fighting to us.”

She finally gave me a smile.
It was as bright as the summer sun.
Still, being in charge really is a pain…

Now that Fern’s anger had subsided, I returned to my duties. There was something that needed urgent attention.

“Um… those men we captured, are they in the basement?”

Garne (the younger brother) nodded.

“Yeah. Six of them. We locked them up in separate rooms like you said.”
“Good. Who’s on watch?”
“Monsa’s squad.”

If Monsa’s handling it, then it’s secure. If I were to form a secret werewolf police force, I’d make her the chief. She’s just that type.

I stood up and gave them instructions.

“Alright. I’m going to interrogate them. Don’t let the governor near the basement until I’m done.”
“That means it’s my turn!”

Fern stretched and pumped her fist.

“I’m still seen as your second-in-command, so I’ll handle it. Leave her to me.”
“Thanks.”

Time to head to the basement.

“Ah, Boss.” Monsa looked over at me casually, sitting on the stairs to the basement. “You gonna do the interrogations?”

“Yeah. I’ll need you to record everything.”
“Sure thing.”

Leaving the remaining three guards to watch the place, Monsa and I began the interrogation.

I started with the oldest of the six captives. We brought him into one of the basement rooms.
He looked to be in his forties. His clothes were neat—not luxurious, but clearly high-quality.

“What’s your name?”

No response.
That was fine. With his attire, he clearly lived comfortably in Lüenheit. Someone in the city would recognize him eventually.

“Monsa, think if we dragged him to the town square and put him on public display, someone would ID him?”

Monsa, spinning her pen lazily, caught my drift and replied lazily:

“Or, we could just kill him and ask the next one. It saves our time.”
“Hm.”

The man’s expression didn’t change, but I could smell sweat. The scent of fear.
I decided to press further.

“If we’re going to kill him anyway, might as well find his family first.”

That’s all I said—but the man’s face changed dramatically. His fear intensified.
It reminded me of a scene from a movie I saw in my previous life. Never thought I’d be the one acting it out…

After letting him stew in fear for a bit, I said quietly:

“Were you trying to kill a werewolf? If you don’t answer, I’ll kill you here.”

That wasn’t a bluff. If he wouldn’t talk, I’d just move on to the next one.
The man’s expression twisted in agony. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then finally spoke:

“N…no.”
“Then what was your goal? If you don’t answer, I’ll kill you here.”

After another pause, he stammered out:

“I… I was just checking the situation outside…”
“Ugh, I hate liars. I’m killing him.”

Monsa said with perfect timing. The man flinched. Honestly, she was starting to scare me too.

If she was going to play the villain, then I’d gladly play the good cop. The timing was right.

“Hold on, Monsa. These people haven’t actually done anything yet. If they cooperate, there’s no reason to kill them.”
“But they’re not cooperating… Maybe we should start by killing his family?”
“Calm down. That won’t help.”

Monsa’s intentions were unclear, but the man was clearly terrified. He likely had a family. And to him, they probably mattered more than his own life.

I softened my expression and spoke gently.

“You said you took a silver letter opener outside just to check on things, right?”
“Y-yeah…”

He nodded nervously. That’s what he’d said when we captured him, after all.
I gave him a friendly smile.

“If that’s really all it was, there’s no reason to hide your name. The Demon Lord’s army doesn’t kill Lüenheit citizens over misunderstandings.”

If he still refused, I’d assume he had something to hide—and punish him accordingly.
The man must’ve realized that. After a long pause, he finally said:

“Közin… I’m Közin, from the Raffold Trading Company… I-I manage the West District branch.”

Raffold was one of the major players in the Chamber of Commerce. So he was just an employed branch manager.
Alright. Let’s get more out of him.

Once someone breaks under fear, it becomes easier. They lose track of what they should and shouldn’t say.

“The West District shop—that’s the one with the yellow pointed roof, right? Dogfolks from the caravan have praised it for being fair and friendly.”
“Th-thank you…”

I eased into casual talk to get him to drop his guard.
Monsa was still looming behind me with a threatening gaze. I could tell from Közin’s expression.

“The Raffold Company has helped us maintain peace in Lüenheit. We’re grateful.”

I subtly reminded him that his employer was under our rule. As an employee, he couldn’t defy that.
Once I’d applied enough pressure, I asked again:

“So, I’ll ask one more time. You really didn’t intend to attack a werewolf?”
“N-no! That wasn’t my intention at all!”

His earlier silence was gone. He was practically begging to be believed.

I smiled warmly.

“Then the Demon Lord’s army won’t harm you. Or your family. Or your workplace.”

Of course, the implied threat was: “If you are lying, we’ll kill all of you.” But I figured that level of intimidation was acceptable. We are the occupiers, after all.
Still smiling, I continued:

“In that case, you’re free to go home. I’m glad this was just a misunderstanding.”

I clapped the trembling man on the shoulder and ended the interrogation.

Just one last thing.

“Oh, and I’ll return your silver knife. It’s a valuable possession. But maybe try not to carry it around too much, yeah?”

The real message: “Don’t go wandering with weapons again.” The man nodded quickly, over and over.
Hopefully, that scared him straight. If not, next time I’d have to really kill him.
Unpleasant as it is, I’ve gotten pretty good at playing the villain…