Chapter 97
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 97
Iskan and I checked our gear before entering the abandoned building.
The Shock Pistol is too destructive.
The Shock Pistol Ruina wasn't a weapon meant for frequent use in anti-personnel combat. It had been crafted for one purpose only—to deal with Rick Silva Nunez.
Click.
I worked the standard-issue Imperial Guard pistol. Its parts moved smoothly. Stripped of any unnecessary features, it was a reliable design. Its weak firepower was a drawback, but precise marksmanship easily made up for that.
Hummm.
I drew the blade halfway. The edge of the Crucis gleamed coldly. I preferred this to guns.
Whoosh.
I also spun Ilay's gift, the Grakken Boot, around in one hand. Even without any special maintenance, the Grakken Boot's dagger kept its snow-white edge razor-sharp.
"Didn't expect you to have a Grakken Boot. Loot it off an Equesian?" Iskan asked, recognizing it.
"I got it as a gift from a friend."
"That's a rare item. You must have a good friend."
"…I suppose so," I said, pausing slightly.
Iskan raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by my confirmation, and chuckled.
Vroooom!
The low rumble of a flying vehicle echoed from the direction of Akbaran.
We ducked down and looked toward the source of the sound. An aerial vehicle hovered to a stop in front of the abandoned building, and a man stepped out. He scanned his surroundings warily before slipping inside.
"There's something in there, alright. People keep going in."
We waited a moment, then approached the building. No surveillance devices were visible on the outer walls.
Step, step.
We walked into the dark interior. A chilly hallway stretched ahead, devoid of any light.
This corridor sees heavy traffic.
It wasn't truly abandoned. There were clear signs of activity—footprints pressed into the dust on the floor.
"Someone's up ahead," I whispered. Iskan surely knew that much already.
"Hold your violence until I give the signal. We might be able to settle this with words."
Beyond the hallway, an open space opened up. It was fully enclosed, no windows, impossible to see even an inch ahead with normal biological vision.
Whir.
Only the glow of cybernetic prosthetic eyes pierced the darkness. Three men stood inside. One of them spotted us and spoke up.
"Ah, you're here already? There's still some time before your reservation—"
"You dumbass! They're not customers!"
"What?!"
The men belatedly shouted and swung their guns toward us. The red dots of optical sights painted our foreheads.
"Whoa, whoa, easy. I came here as a customer too," Iskan said, raising both hands in surrender.
"Who the fuck are you? A customer? We're strictly reservation-only, asshole."
The one who seemed to lead the three aimed his pistol crookedly at Iskan. He clearly had no idea the man in front of him was a high-ranking Imperial Guardsman. To threaten Iskan, a gun wouldn't cut it—you'd need a bomb capable of leveling this whole room.
"Make an exception for today. I had a hell of a time tracking this place down. Heard this is the only place that offers proper service."
Iskan lied smoothly, just tossing out plausible words to gauge their reaction.
"Then why'd two of you show up? You fucking with us?"
Keeping his gun trained on us, the man asked instead of firing.
He wants to know where we got our information.
Until he found out, he wouldn't attack blindly. He'd at least pretend to play along at first.
"This is my bodyguard. I could hardly come alone on my first visit, could I?"
"This kid?"
"He's quite capable. Why don't you aim at his head and pull the trigger?"
"What? You think I won't?"
"It's fine if he dies."
"Ha, hahaha, crazy bastard. What—"
The man laughed, rubbing his forehead. Mid-sentence, he abruptly shifted his aim and pointed the gun at me.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out. I'd already read the movement of his finger, so I tilted my head. The bullet grazed past my ear.
The glow of the men's eyes widened. They whispered among themselves in shock.
"…He's certainly qualified as a bodyguard. You must be quite wealthy to hire someone of this caliber."
The man's tone had shifted. He'd likely realized they wouldn't stand a chance if a fight broke out now.
"I can pay in physical goods, not just credits."
Credits, being digital assets, were easily traced. The deeper one sank into the underworld, the more they favored alternative payment methods.
"So who referred you?"
The conversation was moving forward, but their guard stayed up.
"They asked me to keep it a secret."
"Hmm, strange. If a regular customer had referred you, we wouldn't have had all this unnecessary friction."
"I don't know the details either. They told me to keep it a secret, so I am."
Silence fell after Iskan spoke. I watched the three men closely, ready to subdue them in an instant if their mood turned.
"You should leave for today. Unannounced visits like this are trouble. Get a proper referral, come back with them, and we'll let you in."
The men began packing their things. The moment we left, they'd relocate. Then they'd contact only their 'regulars' with the new location.
An ironclad defense. I suppose that's what it takes to do business in the underworld.
At this point, I was genuinely curious what they were selling. Prostitution and drugs were readily available in the Lower District.
I waited for Iskan's signal. It would be simple enough to kill two of them and torture the survivor for information.
"Turn me away here, and you'll find it hard to keep doing business. I'm a very spiteful man."
Iskan pressed on, still trying to resolve things through dialogue.
"What, you motherfucker!"
The leader spat a curse and tried to level his gun at Iskan. My hand moved in tandem.
"If you knew who this man is, you wouldn't dream of pointing a gun at him. Go ahead—try, if you want to regret it. Do you have family? Friends? They'll all die with you. All because of you."
I said it while aiming my pistol, framing Iskan as a noble of impossibly high standing. And most of what I said was true.
If this didn't end in dialogue, they'd be the ones dying.
The men hesitated, then lowered their weapons. I lowered mine slightly as well, watching them.
"…Do you even know what we sell?"
We didn't. Deflecting that was Iskan's job.
"I came to buy pleasure. Wouldn't it be safer for you if I became an accomplice too?"
It was a vague, catch-all phrase that could apply to any illicit trade. I had no idea if it would land.
"Whew, fine. Follow me. We never do this. We absolutely never take in customers without a reservation or a formal referral."
"I'll compensate you generously."
"You'd better."
The man opened a door, revealing a staircase leading down into the basement.
Another tiresome basement.
I grumbled inwardly. It was only natural for people in this line of work to use underground passages. But ever since the Arcane Fortress, I'd developed a distaste for underground tunnels.
The man guided us alone. The other two had apparently stayed behind to receive other customers.
Step, step.
Once inside the underground passage, the man switched on an electric lantern. No matter how well one saw in the dark, nothing beat the comfort of actual light.
"Since you don't have a reservation, I'll set you up with whoever's left over. No point asking for a swap."
The man said, leading the way.
"Since I forced my way in, I've got at least that much decency."
"Any facilities or equipment you prefer?"
Iskan had to be racking his brain right now.
Prostitution? But if they're talking facilities and equipment…
The choice of words was strangely cold.
But my thoughts didn't linger there for long. I dedicated my brain's processing power to mapping out the passage we walked through. The conversation was Iskan's responsibility.
"You don't need to prepare anything. I'll use my own."
"Hmm, so you're that type. You must have had something specific in mind."
"I'd rather not voice my embarrassing fantasies."
"Haha, such things are hard to say aloud. It's the same for us. We prefer euphemisms to addressing it directly."
The atmosphere had grown considerably warmer. Yet something had been gnawing at me for a while now.
I spoke up slowly.
"…Excuse me, but may I ask a question?"
At my words, the man stopped in his tracks.
"I don't think a bodyguard should have anything to be curious about here," he replied, sounding annoyed.
I shifted my gaze across the underground passage. A faint motor hum thrummed through my prosthetic body. Iskan would have noticed I'd dialed up my output.
"Don't people usually walk through here?"
This was the discrepancy I'd sensed. There were no signs anyone had passed through. Two customers had arrived before us. If they'd taken this path, there should have been traces of foot traffic.
It'd make sense if each customer used a different passage.
The man would have to answer carefully. His response would decide whether I resorted to violence right here and now.
"What are you talking about? We use this all the—"
Before he could finish, I moved.
An awkward smile, beads of sweat, and a blatant lie. As all the pieces clicked together, I reached a single conclusion.
This man was leading us into a trap.
Whoosh.
I slipped behind him and wrapped my arm around his neck. Before he knew it, the Grakken Boot was pressed against his throat.
Iskan watched quietly.
"Choose your next words carefully, before I rip your throat open."
"H-hey. C-customer. What's the meaning of— Ack! Urgh!"
I jabbed the Grakken Boot into the man's jaw. The sharp tip pierced through to touch his tongue. Blood ran down his neck like a necktie.
Threats without violence to back them up sound like empty bluffs.
I can kill you.
I had to make him feel that truth in his own body.
"I was half-doubting it myself… but seeing you move, my hunch was right. This isn't the customer passage, is it?" Iskan said, stepping in front of the man.
"Y-you… mother… gack!"
I gave the Grakken Boot a slight twist. The wound widened, and the bleeding intensified.
"Only answer what you're asked. We don't care if you die. We kept you alive to make things easier for us. If we decide getting answers out of you is too much hassle… we'll just kill you right here and move on."
"I-I understand. So please, take… take the knife away," the man forced out.
Flick!
I pulled the Grakken Boot free and flicked it lightly. The instant the blood splattered off, the snow-white blade gleamed as if brand new.
Clatter, clang!
I disarmed the man and threw his weapon to the floor. Now defenseless, he clutched his punctured jaw, gasping for breath.
Iskan regarded him calmly.
"We don't care what you people do here. We only have business with one of your customers. Cooperate quietly, and nothing happens to you. One customer simply disappears, and you go back to running your business as usual. Understood?"
The man nodded with difficulty.
"Then guide us properly to the customer passage. We don't want to kill anyone unnecessarily—including you."
Listening to Iskan, a question rose in my mind.
Iskan is sticking to peaceful methods as much as he can.
If it were me, I'd have subdued them by force the moment those three men appeared and threatened us. Kill two of them fast, and the last one shakes with fear.
Sudden death and violence throw people into panic, and panicked people spill the truth easily.
Iskan surely knew this method well. Yet he chose the tedious, conciliatory approach—this, from a man who must have killed countless people over his life as an Imperial Guardsman.
We don't want to kill people unnecessarily.
I read those words differently.
I don't want to kill people unnecessarily.
Iskan preferred non-lethal methods. Perhaps his claim of not wanting to kill was genuine.
An Imperial Guardsman is a combat machine whose innate aggression has been honed through training. Yet such a man was reluctant to kill.
Humanity… a way to keep from being consumed by the Legion.
I felt like I understood Iskan's defense mechanism.