Chapter 221
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 221
The road where Mushir Al-Kashura and I had fought was a ruin, a literal battlefield.
A line of half-destroyed vehicles spewed smoke and fire while corpses lay strewn across the pavement. It was the aftermath of a massacre.
I stared in the direction where Kashura’s metal box had disappeared.
He carries his brain around in a metal box?
The thought was still absurd. I never would have guessed Kashura’s true body was a simple metal case.
“Damn it…”
I looked down at Kashura’s empty shell. After all that, I had still let him slip away.
Riiiiing!
The ringing in my ears grew louder. The pressure behind my eyes was so immense it felt like they would pop out, and my ruptured nasal membranes sent a fresh stream of blood down my face.
The clue to finding Kinuan was gone. I briefly wondered if I should try to track Kashura down right now.
As the thought crossed my mind, I shook my head.
I can’t push myself any further.
I was so depleted I hadn’t even noticed the metal box escaping. If an ambush or trap was waiting for me, I wouldn't be able to react before I was killed.
Trudge, trudge.
I trudged along the ruined road, retrieving my discarded coat and pistol.
I’ll leave the cleanup to Japa.
I didn’t know if there would be any salvageable data left in Mushir Al-Kashura’s prosthetic body, but it was best to recover it just in case.
Crackle, static.
I tried to open the communication network but frowned at the static.
A jammer?
High-density signal jamming blanketed the area. Even when I switched channels, all external communications were dead.
“What kind of bullshit is this now…”
I was starting to get genuinely angry at this world’s habit of throwing one problem after another at me.
Pressing my aching eyelids, I scraped together the last dregs of my concentration. It felt like trying to squeeze a single drop of water from bone-dry soil.
Rustle.
Armed soldiers appeared from the edge of the road, moving tactically between the wrecked vehicles as they closed in. At a glance, there were at least a dozen of them, and they looked well-trained.
I really need to get out of here. I feel like I’m going to pass out any second.
My eyes darted around, mapping out an escape route.
“What do you think you’re doing! Lower your weapons immediately!” a remarkably gruff voice thundered from behind the soldiers.
Puff, puff.
A middle-aged man walked out with a cigar clamped between his teeth. He stood out in a neat, old-fashioned suit, a coat, and polished leather shoes—a retro style from the 20th century.
The man puffed heavily on his cigar, the smoke mingling with that of the burning vehicles. His ruggedly handsome, sharp-featured face broke into a smile as if he were greeting an old friend.
“Please forgive my employees’ rudeness. I am Son Seok-jae, the president of Handicraft Industry. May I ask your name?”
The man, who introduced himself as Son Seok-jae, strode toward me. Judging by his gait and aura, he was no combatant. He had no visible cybernetics, nor did he look like he’d undergone any biological enhancements.
“Just a vagrant who got caught up in an accident while passing by. Don’t mind me.”
I tried to walk past him.
“There’s no way someone who took down Mushir Al-Kashura single-handedly is ‘just a vagrant.’”
I massaged my stiff neck and narrowed my eyes.
They don’t know I’m weakened. They probably just think I’m a bit tired.
There was no one here capable of reading my true condition.
“Were you watching the fight?”
“Your movements were so fast that we couldn’t capture it perfectly, but we did record it. This will cause quite a stir if we release it. After all, you defeated Mushir Al-Kashura all by yourself.”
Son Seok-jae said, brushing back his graying fringe.
“If you don’t want to die, destroy the recording. If it ever leaks, I’ll personally wipe your company off the map.”
“…There’s no need to be so hostile. I simply want to negotiate. I would like you to hand over Mushir Al-Kashura’s remains to me. I want to acquire them legally.”
Son Seok-jae stated his objective plainly.
I checked the communication network again. The jamming was still active.
Mushir Al-Kashura’s full-armor prosthetic has immense research value. Reverse-engineering it would yield a treasure trove of technology.
It was no wonder they coveted it.
But I don’t know anything about Son Seok-jae.
Negotiating blindly felt risky.
“Turn off the jammer. I need to talk to my sponsor.”
“I hope you make it quick. For your own safety, as well. Other companies won’t be as scrupulous or gentlemanly in their negotiations as I am.”
Son Seok-jae looked back and gave a signal. One of the armed men adjusted the jamming device strapped to his back.
I backed away, keeping my distance from him. Before long, Japa’s voice came through my communicator.
-Hoyoyoyot! Luka! What happened? I received intel that Mushir Al-Kashura showed up. I was so worried when I couldn’t reach you…!
“Cut the worry. We’ll talk details later. First, tell me about Son Seok-jae of Handicraft Industry.”
-President Son, all of a sudden?
Judging by his tone, Japa knew him well.
“Yes, that President Son.”
-Why would you be in contact with President Son…?
“Japa, stop prying and just answer. I’m extremely tired right now. I don’t have the energy for mind games or to guess your intentions. If you don’t give me the information, I’ll decide this on my own. I might even start reconsidering our partnership. After all, I know your weakness now.”
If Japa revealed my existence to the Empire, I would leak the history of Anguis Regina and Japa to Border City.
When both sides held leverage, neither could make a move lightly.
-It seems a deep misunderstanding has grown between us. Hoyoooo, it’s all a misunderstanding, Luka. I still want to maintain our cooperative relationship. I will gladly support you just as I have been. I’ll provide the information, too.
At my sharp, emotionally charged tone, Japa practically groveled. I hadn’t been bluffing, either.
If he had tried to bargain with me in the slightest, I would have unleashed my raw anger on him.
My head feels like it’s going to explode.
My irritation had spiked past its limit, my brain feeling like it was cramping.
-President Son Seok-jae is the head of Handicraft Industry. He’s a brilliant engineer himself, but unlike most of his kind, he is well-versed in the underworld and is incredibly cunning. You’d better be careful.
That was unexpected. Judging by his attire and demeanor, he didn’t look like a technician or an engineer. He seemed more like the head of some illegal enterprise.
“What about Handicraft Industry?”
-They are currently a company fiercely competing for the Bellato Federation’s new weapon development contract… Hoyot? Wait, wait a minute! Don’t tell me—no, why didn’t you request support from us?
Japa was indeed sharp. He seemed to have pieced together my situation.
“The fight would have been over before the Equesian mercenaries could even arrive. And right now, I’m not entirely comfortable trusting you. You might have attacked me while I was exhausted. This is what broken trust looks like, Japa.”
-Did you subdue Mushir Al-Kashura? Did you capture him alive? What’s your location? I’ll send En right away.
Japa was audibly shaken. I replied indifferently.
“It’s already too late. If what you say is true, President Son will take Kashura’s combat suit by any means necessary. Just tell me what terms I should negotiate or what information I can use to gain an advantage.”
-Why don’t you hand over the negotiation rights to me instead? I will talk to—no, hoyoot, I mean, how do I swear in this language, ah, damn it! Shit! Motherfucker! You’d better not tell President Son that you’re working with me. He has an extreme hatred for alien species. The kind that would make even an Imperial citizen blush.
I raised an eyebrow slightly.
Xenophobia?
Although the Bellato Federation was human-centric, it was still a multi-species nation.
Then again, it wasn’t that surprising. Just because a nation’s policy was coexistence didn’t mean every individual agreed. Even the highly controlled Empire couldn’t enforce that.
“Got it. I’ll contact you later.”
-Wait a minuteeee!
I cut the call, and Japa’s pathetic voice faded into silence.
“Did your talk with your sponsor go well?” Son Seok-jae asked, puffing cigar smoke through his nose.
I shrugged and wiped my right hand on my pants. Seeing the gesture, Son Seok-jae prepared to shake.
Slide.
I reached out my right hand and spoke.
“My sponsor is Japa of Japa Trading. Depending on your terms, I’m willing to bypass him and negotiate directly with you. Japa and I are on equal footing, so you don’t have to worry about any friction.”
At the mention of Japa’s name, Son Seok-jae’s brow furrowed slightly, but he smiled upon hearing the rest.
“I wondered who had secured such an outstanding talent, and of course, it was Japa. He’s a decent guy, for one of those trash Tajiruns. His burgers are quite tasty, too.”
Congratulations, Japa. You just got called a ‘decent guy’ by an alien-hater.
It seemed Japa had an exceptionally good reputation, for a Tajirun.
“Japa does make a good burger.”
“But at the end of the day, he’s still an alien. They don’t understand the human heart. Anyway, we’re short on time, so please sign the transport documents for Mushir Al-Kashura’s remains first.”
I quickly scanned the electronic document. It was a simple, formally processed contract.
Son Seok-jae is obsessed with legal procedures.
He must have been burned before by cutting corners. To handle the Federal Government’s weapons contracts, every last detail had to be free of illegality.
I’m exhausted.
My thoughts weren’t flowing smoothly.
“Prepare a transport vehicle. We’ll discuss the rest at your company. Oh, and you’re riding with me. Sit right across from me.”
“I like how meticulous you are. I wish my employees would learn a thing or two from you, Mr. Luka.”
Son Seok-jae called me by name after seeing the signature on the document.
“Also, there should be two weapons made of Ignium from the Hwagwang Series nearby. Recover them if you can.”
Son Seok-jae gave instructions to his subordinates and summoned a waiting aerial vehicle.
Whoosh.
Son Seok-jae boarded, exhaling a plume of cigar smoke. I followed him in.
Whir.
The door slid shut. I pinched the end of Son Seok-jae’s cigar with my fingertips, extinguishing it.
“And I’m a non-smoker.”
“My, my, my apologies. Do you drink?”
Son Seok-jae showed no sign of annoyance. He smacked his lips good-naturedly and pulled out a bottle of liquor.
“No alcohol. No anything else. I’m not thirsty enough to drink something you offer. How long until we arrive?”
I was at my limit. It felt like if I even blinked, my consciousness would evaporate. I was barely holding back another nosebleed.
“About twenty minutes.”
“I’m going to close my eyes for a bit.”
Son Seok-jae held up both hands.
“I won’t try anything funny.”
I slipped my hand inside my coat, hooking a finger around the trigger of my pistol. Then, I closed my eyes.
Twenty minutes.
I intended to sleep for exactly twenty minutes. Even a brief rest would dramatically improve my condition.
One might wonder if it was possible to wake up on the dot, but I hadn’t learned the Sleep Control Method in the Imperial Guard for nothing.
My consciousness vanished instantly. At this point, it wasn’t so much falling asleep as it was blacking out.
“…sir?”
I opened my eyes at the sound of a voice and realized a hand was on my shoulder.
Whoosh!
Vicious combat reflexes took over. I twisted the person’s arm and pressed the muzzle of my gun against their temple, a hair’s breadth from pulling the trigger.
“D-damn it! It’s me! You didn’t wake up after thirty minutes, so…” Son Seok-jae cried out, pinned in my grip.
“Thirty minutes?”
I blinked. My head was remarkably clear for having slept only twenty—no, thirty minutes.
“We’ve arrived at my factory. Mushir Al-Kashura’s remains will arrive shortly as well. We can proceed with the rest of the contract then.”
I immediately assessed the situation. Everything he said was true.
I hadn’t learned the Sleep Control Method for nothing.
Yet, I failed to control my sleep.
I was exhausted enough for that to happen. An ominous feeling crept over me.
Cognitive decline.
It would be a relief if this was only temporary. But even if it wasn’t, I could only hope my body would hold out until I found Kinuan—no, Giselle.
Beep, beep, beep.
I checked my synced terminal. Japa was calling me incessantly, like an obsessive lover.
Whir.
As soon as the vehicle door opened, a secretary in a suit approached. He was a cold-looking young man.
“President, Japa Trading is trying to contact you. They say it’s urgent…”
“Tell them the president didn’t come to work today.”
The secretary listened to his earpiece for a moment, then spoke again.
“They’re asking how it makes sense for you not to be at work on a weekday.”
“Then tell them our company has a three-day workweek! It’s a level of welfare those nasty alien corporations can’t even dream of. Let’s go.”
The moment Son Seok-jae stepped out of the vehicle, he clamped a cigar in his mouth and hurriedly lit it.
Thick smoke drifted away. He looked incredibly happy as he smoked; he must have been holding back for my sake.
“Welcome to Handicraft Industry.”
Son Seok-jae, who had walked ahead, turned back to me and gave a slight bow.