The Factory's Hollow Eyes
“Ah, and I heard another one killed himself yesterday. What the hell were you doing, not stopping it? Those are all our labor.”
“He seemed like the type with some attachment to life, so I assigned him to a spot where he could handle blades. But he snapped out of nowhere, sir.”
The factory work inevitably required tools like knives.
That was why they put the freshly kidnapped—those still clinging to life—on blade duty.
“Tsk tsk. Can't even screen for that properly. Bury the manager if he screws up one more time.”
“Understood.”
“Get out. I moved around too much after so long—I'm dead tired.”
“Yes, sir. Rest well.”
Neck bowed his head in salute and left the room, heading for the factory floor.
“You're here.”
Demver, one of the site managers, greeted Neck as he entered the factory.
“That pig bastard. Makes me sick.”
“He bitching again?”
“Yeah, over the suicide. Like it's not a daily thing.”
“That's just how he is. Can't do anything but eat.”
“Tch. The pay's good, so we put up with it. How're the new ones?”
“Too young. Can't put any real strength into it.”
“Then sit 'em down for sewing. Hard to find kids these days anyway.”
Neck pulled a cigarette from his pocket and stuck it between his lips.
“Got a light?”
“Yessir!”
Demver quickly fished out a lighter and lit Neck's cigarette.
“Hoo... where the hell do we drag more from? Fucking bullshit.”
“Uwaaaagh! I can't! I can't do it! Let me rest!”
As Neck exhaled with a sigh of lament, a man carrying leather in the factory hurled it to the ground and started screaming.
“That fucker... I'll handle it.”
“No, stay put. I'll do it.”
Neck stopped Demver from rushing over and approached the man slowly, step by step.
“Hey, don't wanna work?”
“Let me out of here! Please! I can't take anymore!”
His face was utterly wrecked, eyes dried up from endless tears.
Neck stared down at him for a moment, dropped his cigarette to the floor...
Slap!
“Wha...?”
In an instant.
The scrawny man's head whipped fully to the left.
But Neck's slap didn't end there.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
Two, three times more, pounding the man's reddening cheek mercilessly.
Finally, he grabbed the man's jaw and hoisted him up.
“If you're too weak to lift this one thing properly, you should think about working harder. What? 'Can't take it'?”
Neck let go of the man's face like he was tossing trash, scoffing in disbelief.
“Fine, if you don't wanna work, can't force you.”
“R-really...?”
A flicker of hope lit the man's face at Neck's seemingly merciful words.
But it was an illusion.
“Not pretty enough for the brothels, no point in mercenaries. Leaves just one option. A place where trash like you might actually be useful.”
Neck turned to Demver.
“Heard fresh corpses are fetching top coin these days. Perfect timing. Prep him right now.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Minimize the damage. Gets us a better price.”
“Got it.”
The man finally realized his fate, trembling violently as he stared up at Neck.
“S-so... sorry... I'll work hard, please.”
Grip.
His shaking hands clutched Neck's arm.
Neck shook him off like he was filthy.
“Don't need dead weight like you. Just get ready. Quit flip-flopping, you piece of shit.”
“Sorry! I'm sorry! I lost my mind for a second. I love working here! One more chance, please!”
The man flattened himself on the floor, begging desperately.
Neck smirked.
“Actions speak louder than words...”
“I'll work hard!”
Before Neck finished, the man snatched up the discarded leather and scrambled back to work.
And in his eyes, no spark of life remained.
“Sir, we just got five pairs of winter gloves from the Cambedia Factory as samples. They look well-made to me.”
Chief Warrant Officer Kailan placed the prototype gloves on the desk.
“Warm, and nicely done.”
They matched the specs perfectly.
Trying them on, he could feel the proper stuffing inside.
“Then I'll call them and push the contract forward.”
“W-wait a sec.”
I grabbed Kailan urgently as he moved to handle it.
“Pardon...?”
“Hold off on the contract for now.”
“Is there a problem?”
Kailan looked at me, confused.
“Something I need to check.”
“If you say so, sir. But with the upcoming bids, we should wrap this glove contract ASAP.”
“Yeah, I'll confirm quick and let you know. Prep the next bid in the meantime.”
“Understood.”
Kailan returned to his seat, and I let out a small breath, examining the gloves.
Feels off.
Not just off—really off.
Because I saw it then.
That child's hollow gaze staring at me.
Honestly, “hollow” was too vague a word for my gut feeling.
Objectively, she's just an employee's kid. Why's it nagging at me so bad?
This wasn't ordinary unease.
“Ugh.”
Too awkward to go back and ask now. I clutched my head and bowed it.
Can't shake it.
I shot up.
Couldn't sit here with this gnawing at me. Decision made, I stood.
“Heading out for a bit. Lunch on your own.”
“Pardon...? Ah, yes, sir.”
Leaving the startled team behind, I grabbed my coat and bolted from the building.
Destination: My old department—still loosely affiliated—the Western Investigation Unit under the Intelligence Command.
Never thought I'd walk in here on my own.
At least it was on base—no long trek.
“ID check.”
Even inside the military zone, entering the unit meant another checkpoint.
“No access pass, but here's my agent ID.”
“Cleared.”
Agent ID bypassed extras. I passed through the gate into the building.
Okay, now what? Who do I even ask?
I needed intel on Cambedia Factory.
Couldn't just grab a passerby. Tricky spot.
Should've planned first. Got too hasty.
But haste was justified.
Couldn't delay a contract on mere hunch forever.
“Hey? Major Palan.”
As I pondered kicking down the commander's door, a very familiar voice rang out.
“Major Orpia... no, Lieutenant Colonel!”
Like a lifeline.
She was due for promotion—her insignia now showed two bars instead of one.
“What brings you here? Transferred in? Didn't hear.”
“No, just need to check some info.”
“Info? C'mon up. Awkward talking here.”
“Yes, ma'am!”
Trailing the ever-reliable Lt. Colonel Orpia to her second-floor office felt like salvation.
“Private office?”
“Yeah, crowds disrupt work.”
Her nameplate read: Chief Magical Artifact Investigator.
“Right in your wheelhouse.”
“Title's just chief. Same work as when I was a lieutenant.”
“Figures.”
Her unmatched circuit knowledge and skill—no one could replace her.
“So, what info? I'll check if I can.”
Orpia, pinnacle of kindness.
Nothing like Eden, who demanded blind obedience in exchange.
“Recently, for work, I visited a trading company...”
Needed context, so I laid out the full story slowly.
“Sounds fishy.”
“Yes. Wanted to verify before contracting.”
“Got it. I'll ask around.”
“Thank you!”
“Grab some coffee here. Wait.”
After hearing me out, she pointed to the beans and left.
Feels like a decade shaved off my stress.
Without her, I'd still be wandering the first floor.
Moved to the investigation unit, huh.
Made sense—Gork Mountains wrapped up; no reason to keep a top asset there.
Wonder what Lieutenant Aisa's up to.
A face popping up after ages.
Maybe ask later...
But it wasn't up to me.
“Cambedia Factory? Just basics. Nothing else.”
“Really...?”
“Yeah, asked if they could investigate. Probably not. Intelligence is short-staffed.”
The negative—no dice.
Worst case.
“No slack at all?”
“Nope. Supply graft probes, Aditz Empire headaches. Not whining—it's bad.”
Orpia didn't bullshit. If she said no, it was no.
“If it was a sure thing, I'd push hard. But it's not.”
“True...”
Unfortunately, I lacked pull for special favors.
“Get solid proof, or investigate yourself. You're an agent too—one they respect.”
“Ha... haha, got it. Thanks for your time.”
I forced a smile, set down the coffee cup.
“Heading out already? Lunch together would've been perfect.”
“Need to sort this first. I'll visit once it's done.”
“Really bugging you, huh. Alright, see you. Good luck.”
“Yes, ma'am! Thank you!”
Bowed 90 degrees, then escaped the building.
Do I really have to do this myself?
Actual investigation meant infiltrating the factory. Huge risk.
If caught...
Worst case: Might not make it out alive.
No intel means no obvious issues.
Still uncertain.
Intelligence was swamped with war stuff, per Orpia.
“Haa, headache. Is that really my only play?”
I did know one surefire way to ease this unease.
Vesinia.
Not a magic bullet like the military, but pay up, and they delivered solid probes.
Problem's the price.
What they'd demand from me was all too predictable.