Chapter 423
Chapter 423
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Hide and Seek (4)
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****
What Hyde pulled from his pocket wasn’t anything grand enough to whip out in front of countless gun barrels,
“This is...”
“Do you recognize it?”
but it was more than enough to halt the approaching man in his tracks.
“...That distinctive purple sheen is the hallmark of voidstone mined in the Tobrun Mines. It’s been a while since I’ve seen something from my homeland.”
The purple chunk, about the length of a handspan, was voidstone—an essential material for magitech equipment. The unusual part was that it wasn’t the voidstone mined here in Teldrat, but from the Tobrun Mines in the old Lordric territory, far removed from this place.
In the past, Tobrun had grown into a city of mages thanks to its high-quality mana stone veins, but it had taken a direct hit from the leyline cataclysm, completely altering its nature.
The enormous mana stored in the leyline had evaporated in the explosion, draining every last drop from the mana stone veins as well.
As a result, Tobrun—the mages’ city that had endured even the Mutant Wars and the East-West Empire War—was reduced to rubble, and the very mana stone mines that had made it a mages’ city turned into voidstone mines—
a place with its own tragic tale.
In any case, naturally formed Tobrun voidstone differed slightly in appearance from artificial voidstone, which was made by stacking depleted mana stones. Tobrun voidstone had a deep purple hue, while artificial voidstone glowed a pale purple.
Unfortunately, the difference was purely cosmetic, with no other distinctions, so it only circulated in small quantities for jewelry crafting. It wasn’t worth the high transport costs to export elsewhere.
“...A man from the east, huh. Sorry, but I can’t let an outsider live just for that. If this place’s location leaks out, it’s a death sentence.”
“Ah, I know. I’m not even from Lordric originally, and even if I were, just coming from the same direction wouldn’t solve a life-or-death issue. I pulled this out as proof of something.”
“...Proof?”
“Yes, proof that I can travel back and forth between the Lordric region and here.”
Of course, it was a lie. The Tobrun voidstone he held now was something an alchemist had offered instead of cash after losing big in a card game with passengers during a train ride long ago.
He’d accepted it thinking its drastically different color from regular voidstone meant it was valuable as the alchemist claimed, but it turned out to be ordinary voidstone. Too stingy to sell it, he’d carried it around, and now it served to mask the mana emissions from some powerful magitech gear piled in his cloak.
“Sir, the one up front?”
“...Mojo.”
“Right, Mr. Mojo. Life’s pretty tough, isn’t it? You fled your hometown to survive, but scraping by day to day here is pure agony. Doesn’t it feel kinda off?”
He’d pulled out the voidstone because, like anyone new to this place, Hyde had instantly sensed the desperation of its inhabitants.
Not proper city folk, but people hiding in the tangled back alleys of the city.
In a world where a day’s wage barely bought three cups of water, water was exorbitantly priced.
Other citizens could at least collect and store rainwater when it rained, but those stuck in these deep corners couldn’t even do that. To avoid dying of thirst, they had to earn several times more than others, yet their situation barred them from proper city access and decent jobs.
Adults resorted to robbery or slaved away in squalid mushroom farms for lower wages, while kids pretended to be orphans to sneak into newspaper runs, trudging the city till calluses formed on their feet for pennies.
“Don’t you want a shot at a ‘chance’ for a better life?”
“...A chance?”
“Yes, the kind that doesn’t come knocking often, Mr. Mojo. Any interest in ‘smuggling’?”
“Smuggling...? With you people?”
“Let’s just say we’d like a collaborator for our merchant group! It pays really well!”
Hyde had clearly seen it. Mojo’s eyes wavering noticeably at the words ‘smuggling’ and ‘money.’
It wasn’t mere greed for cash—it was a deeper, more primal desire.
“We recently came into some funds and wanted to expand the business! Got a magitrain connection by chance, so we thought we’d try intermediary trade with far-off Lordric cities, but not knowing the local scene... we got totally scammed and ended up with a ton of this Tobrun voidstone. The losses were brutal.”
“Hmm. Scammers like that pop up sometimes. Voidstone circulates well there and gets plenty of use, so yeah. You got played good.”
“Yeah! Train fares coming and going, plus renting the cargo car—we got wrecked! So this time, we’re bringing along a Lordric local who knows the area inside out~. Does that explain it?”
“...How’s the collaboration pay split?”
‘Nice! He’s hooked!’
The fact that he was already thinking about payout after the deal meant he was mentally committed.
Mojo glanced between the Tobrun voidstone in Hyde’s hand and the village, then slowly lowered his gun barrel.
“One last question. Sounds like you knew to come here. How?”
“Went to the newspaper offices, found a kid who knows Lordric news. And as you know, kids’ lips are looser than adults’.”
“Those brats... I told them to keep their mouths shut...”
And with the last suspicion vanishing, Mojo’s gun fully pointed at the ground.
He waved a hand, and gun barrels poking from everywhere in the refugee camp retracted as people emerged from their homes—half-curious, half-hostile. As Mojo walked off to explain to the villagers, Pablo, who’d been lurking far away ready to bolt, crept closer.
“Wow...”
“See? Told you it’d work.”
“No way. It actually worked.”
Pablo, who knew how warily these hidden folk treated outsiders, gazed up at Hyde in awe as the hostility melted away like magic.
“A merchant? Smuggling?”
“Shh. Keep it down. You’re my hired newsboy who helped me find this place.”
“Got it, but how were you so sure that’d work?!”
“You said it yourself. This place’s location is life-or-death for them, so whatever we offer, they’d prioritize killing us to silence us.”
“Uh... yeah.”
“So, offer them a life-or-death solution in return. Nothing hits home like making a living.”
Not just the other folks who’d appeared everywhere, but even Mojo, the apparent leader, had chapped lips and dry scaly skin. Classic early dehydration. Thirst strikes the poor first. On the shattered continent, the destitute dried up before they starved.
Kids’ clothes hung on lines between rocks and houses, but no children were in sight.
Probably all out working.
Brown fuzzy spores bloomed on Mojo’s clothes. Hyde knew them well from working there—edible mushroom farm spores. They grew on skin too, so city law mandated sealed suits for workers. Folks carrying them on regular clothes were illegally hired laborers.
With traces of utter destitution everywhere, he was certain they’d bite at lucrative ‘smuggling.’
Lower sky-high wariness with a familiar hometown item.
Lure them in with an irresistible pitch.
Seal it with plausible lies and believable proof of legitimacy.
“Whoa... you con artist.”
“Told you. The more we get to know each other, the closer we get. See? Already invited into the refugee camp. It’s all about building rapport. Now that they’re convinced we’re legit middlemen, we can pry all we want about old Lordric news. That’s why we’re cozying up to them in the first place.”
“They’ll spill eagerly. They know our Lordric intel ties straight to their future profits!”
“Killing cuts off sources, threats erode reliability. Everyone who steps forward risks something for a reason.”
“Suddenly getting close to you scares me, Hyde.”
“Heh heh. Too late—you know me too well to back out now.”
Hyde squeezed the wooden board in Pablo’s arms, then followed Mojo deeper into the camp.
Reading and exploiting minds.
It was what Hyde had excelled at since childhood, and for a friendly vagabond who loved making friends, honing that talent amid the backstabbing folk of the shattered continent was inevitable.
The biggest reason a somewhat unplanned, impulsive guy like Hyde had survived wandering the soft lands so long.
****
“Information, you said.”
“Yes. Big events shake up markets big time, so to avoid another flop like last time, I want solid intel this round. Anyone know about major incidents, upheavals, or widespread rumors in old Lordric over the past few years?”
“We don’t know business, so do as you like. Everyone here’s on board with smuggling, so they’ll answer honestly. But even though we’re gathered here now, we fled to Wigen at different times from different cities, so no guarantees on consistent info.”
“Hahaha. Sorting that’s my job. Your role starts when we head Lordric way, so we’ll handle it among ourselves for now.”
As Mojo’s tone shift showed, the refugees were highly cooperative with Hyde, the smuggling merchant.
They volunteered not just asked info, but unasked details too, itching to share.
Slipping ‘Warlord’ into chats wasn’t hard, and for talks with about twenty folks (minus those out working), the haul was decent.
“Not sure if it was that Warlord guy, but rumor has it the man who visited our city was him.”
“A rumor...”
“Yeah. His fortress city had just one rail-linked neighbor, and three Mutant Lord dungeons nearby—life was brutal! Mutants attacked nonstop, cannon ports on the walls never rested... then one day, a super weird Shard Knight showed up.”
“Was that the Warlord?”
“Hmm... not sure. Folks who met him said he carried a gun bigger than himself, one shoulder bulging under his cloak—odd outsider. Weird part: he didn’t take the train. Came on a tiny handcar. Know what that is? Like a small seesaw you pump by hand to move on the rails.”
“A man on a handcar...”
.
.
.
.
.
Ugh—throb!
...!!
“M-Merchant?”
“Hyde! What’s wrong all of a sudden?”
“Oh, nothing. Just... tired today, I guess.”
He said he was fine, but he wasn’t at all.
A sudden chill creeping up his spine and chills. Heart pounding to his throat,
Tzzzt—tzztzzt—
a hazy silhouette rising like fog.
‘W-What is this...? My memory? Or... no way?’
Screech—screech—
Rattle—
The handcar’s handle rose and fell, advancing along the rails.
A man who’d dragged a handcar—meant for intra-city hauling—to tracks far from the city.
Screeech—
Far enough that the city was a faint blur, he stopped the handcar.
Severed rails and toppled signs marked Mutant territory.
He sat astride his little handcar like resting, then calmly unloaded his cargo.
Boxes of high-purity mana stones by the stack. Oil drums galore, cloth-wrapped bundles surely magitech gear.
“Did... that man buy stuff in the city?”
“How’d you know? That’s why rumors spread. He bought tower-high loads for that tiny handcar—a whale! Mana stones, oil, power cartridges... City had stockpiles, and the nobles eager to expand defenses sold it all gladly.”
Even as the villager spoke, the hazy vision’s man kept moving.
After unloading the mountain of goods, he lifted the huge gun from his back and meticulously cleaned it.
Then, as sunset hit, he rose.
Tzzztzzzt—chiik!
The unknown memory cut off sharp as a knife when he stepped beyond the broken rails.
“From that night, three straight days of world-shattering blasts! Still vivid. Folks thought the quiet Mutants were finally finishing us off—panic city. Noble hounded mages for aid from nearby cities. Knights skimped sleep prepping defenses for three days...”
“But nothing happened.”
“Yeah. Magitrain from elsewhere arrived, then sudden silence. Impatient knights scouted outside, returned saying, ‘Dungeons are gone. All three.’ Weird, right?”
“...Yeah. Very... weird.”
Hyde barely replied, body trembling with uncontainable excitement.
‘Found him.’
The man. Toting a body-hiding huge gun, cloaked, unbalanced silhouette, drifting the soft lands.
The ‘something’ he’d sought his whole life.
Every sense screamed he’d finally succeeded in finding it—a shock he’d never felt before.
“Uh... anyway, that’s it. Anyone not an idiot’d know the guy buying all those war supplies and heading out caused it. Noble searched desperately, but he was gone. Rumors everywhere of a ‘Warlord’ solo-clearing dungeons empty. We figured it was him. Knights checked—dungeons bare. Not a cheap shard left.”
“U-Understood. Truly, really helpful info.”
“Merchant, you okay to sit up? You’re shaking, panting—looks bad—”
“Payment later. Thanks!”
Whoosh!
Unable to contain his excitement, Hyde burst from the man’s house. He couldn’t tell if he was walking, running, or crawling—his body shook that hard.
‘Three dungeons solo in three days. Obscure lord’s dungeons in Lordric’s boonies, but one a day? Even the Silver Lion Knights’ master knight couldn’t.’
‘Unique. Insanely so. Soloed the city’s long-sought dungeon clears, demanded no reward. Had cash for lord-worthy supplies, yet no magitrain—handcar instead. Can’t take trains? Or avoiding traces? What if another train comes on the single track? Dodge with it?’
“Hyde! Hyde!”
Pablo’s hand yanking his collar snapped the chaining thoughts.
“You really okay? Face red, breathing ragged all sudden—looks rough.”
“No, opposite. Finally got a lead on what I’ve desperately sought.”
Couldn’t be better.
After 15 fog-bound years groping the world, a clear milestone at last.
Suuuuh—haa. Suuuuh—haa!
Hyde spent ages deep-breathing to calm his bursting heart.
No time for excitement. Other villagers might hold more clues?
As Mojo said, they seemed old Lordric folk but from varied cities/times fleeing here.
‘Vagabond like me. Male.’
‘Still roaming old Lordric? Solo on rickety handcar through soft lands?’
‘A good... man?’
Even more cautiously than before, word-perfect with the refugees, that hazy man’s back never left his mind.
Eerily familiar. Never seen, yet known—uncanny.
“Warlord. Never thought the name followed me here...”
The second to utter it was a weathered elder.
Cloudy eyes, wrinkled beard. Yet muscled arms/shoulders still solid.
“You know him?”
“Know him? Never forget till death.”
Hyde glimpsed the elder’s milky eyes swirling with emotion.
Memory, regret. Resentment, rage, sorrow—all knotted.
Ultimately, mostly rage.
“Don’t tangle with him.”
“May I ask why?”
“Warlord... a demon. Terrifying monster without malice. Evil without wickedness.”
Evil. An evil one.
That man, who’d cleared dungeons gratis and vanished?
“No way.”
The words slipped out unbidden.
No way. Warlord couldn’t be. Unshakable certainty surged, fury at the elder badmouthing him.
“I get it. I swore eternal gratitude when we first met too.”
Tzzztzzzt—
With the elder’s sigh, another headache bored into Hyde’s skull.
Similar to before, but different soft lands.
Screech—screech—
The handcar’s creak, even rustier than before.
And—
‘Don’t retreat!!’
‘This battle decides the city’s fate!!’
A distant battlefield packed solely with people.
“Met him twice.”
“First saved me, my family, all close ones’ lives.”
Screech—screech—
Rickety handcar, man atop it, advancing toward oncoming train and fierce battlefield.
“Second time... he took back every life he’d saved with those hands.”
“In front of me. Everyone but me. In an instant.”
****