The Shadow of the Holy Kingdom (8)
Gal’s eyes trembled violently the moment he saw Tirsi’s portrait. It was an obviously suspicious reaction to anyone watching. I narrowed my eyes.
‘Hook, line, and sinker. That was fast.’
Larilura had moved around with a face resembling Tirsi’s, but I never expected to land such a big fish right away. I was already certain this bastard knew Tirsi’s face from his reaction back at the tavern, but there was always the chance he was just some sicko who’d seen her in passing, gotten horny, and tried to assault a similar-looking woman. That hesitant reaction, however, was clear proof he had something to hide.
“Huh? Ah, no—wait a second?!”
Second my ass. We had all the time in the world. Sparks crackled between my fingers.
—THUD!
His heart stopped from the electric shock.
“Hiiik?! Grrk!!”
I sent a lower-powered current into Gal’s soul the instant it popped out from his death. Even souls are weak to mana-infused weapons or magic.
“Ugaaaaaaaaagh?!”
While electrocuting him just enough to keep him from passing on to the afterlife, I grabbed his heart with my other hand and began CPR.
“Huuuuurk!! Krrghk!!”
Gal danced like one of those inflatable tube men celebrating a new business opening, caught on the border between life and death. I wondered what it felt like to die and revive every single second. One thing was certain—it definitely wasn’t a fun dance party. The way he shuddered at the slightest twitch of my finger proved that much.
A human brain dies within five minutes once oxygen supply is cut off. So if I interrogated his soul for five minutes, revived him, and let him breathe again, I could extract information without actually killing him. Of course there would be serious aftereffects and a high chance of brain death, but whose fault was that? It was his fault for not opening his mouth. Either way, I had nothing to lose. This was the perfect chance to practice my revival technique on a dying man. If this son of a bitch could save countless lives by donating his brain to me as an organ, maybe he’d earn the right to knock on heaven’s door after he died?
“No! You’re exactly right! I know that woman! She’s the target the boss ordered us to find a while ago!”
Unfortunately, Gal’s loyalty to the organization was lacking. The advancement of my technique would have to be postponed once again.
‘Target, huh…’
I sat back down in the chair and asked again.
“N-no, we didn’t catch her! I swear I didn’t lay a single finger on her!”
Coughing violently, Gal babbled desperately.
“I only told the boss where she was, just like he ordered! I have no idea what happened after that!”
“They said she was someone the Corbona Family was looking for! So if we captured her alive or told them where she was, they’d give us a reward!”
The Corbona Family. The oldest underground organization—basically a mafia faction—in Lucregens. I clicked my tongue.
“I-I’m just a low-ranking member, so I don’t really…”
I waved my hand and stood up.
“What?!”
Gal looked as shocked as someone waking up from anesthesia in the middle of a colonoscopy. The way he jumped in his chair was quite the sight.
“P-please, anything but that! I’ll tell you everything about our family’s location!”
On the name of Kitai Jesus, of course. Though if he got caught in the crossfire and died, that wasn’t my responsibility.
“If you drag me to the Dark Mage, I’m dead no matter how things turn out!”
Look at this bastard. Why are your eyes bulging like that?
When I didn’t answer and simply released killing intent, Gal immediately shut his mouth.
—Creak.
I opened the cabin door and let Larilura inside. At the appearance of the woman he had tried to sexually assault and drag to his boss, Gal’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
“Y-you!!”
“Hello, Mr. Idiot? It’s been ten minutes.”
Larilura waved cheerfully. I carved a rune onto the back of the dumbfounded Gal.
I’d imagined a casino like Kangwon Land, but when we arrived, the otherworldly underground gambling den looked like a saloon from the Wild West. The location and the building’s appearance were so inconspicuous that without a guide, it would have taken days to find the place.
I wrapped myself around Larilura’s neck in snake form and observed the interior. The place was thick with cigarette smoke. At every table, gambling addicts were betting their lives away.
‘The building isn’t that big, but the money flowing through here is no joke.’
The gamblers looked rather low-class, but at this scale, the amount the Yuexiang Family skimmed off must be considerable.
‘They probably collect that as tribute and bribe the city’s three major families with it.’
Rather than wracking my brain, it would be wiser to ask the people behind this gambling den for the details. We followed Gal into an area that clearly said “Authorized Personnel Only.” As we approached the door, a thug who looked like a casino bouncer appeared.
“…Huh? Gal, what the hell are you doing here? Isn’t today your day off?”
“W-well… I have something to report to the boss.”
“Report?”
The man leaning crookedly beside the door looked suspiciously at Gal, who was sweating buckets.
“Say it here. I’ll pass it on for you.”
“N-no way! I have to report it directly!!”
Even with that short exchange, Gal raised his voice in genuine panic. His acting was dogshit. I was debating whether I should cause a commotion to force my way in, but while I was thinking, Larilura moved first.
—Swoosh.
When Larilura lowered her hood and spoke, the suspicious guard’s eyes lit up. She was a beauty who looked exactly like the woman they had been ordered to search for last time. In his head, wild guesses mixed with misunderstandings seemed to click like an abacus.
“Aha, I see. So you’re that white-haired lady’s older sister! Sorry for not recognizing you. I wasn’t with the family back then, so I never saw your sister’s face or knew her name.”
“Y-yeah! So I’ll report it myself! That’s fine, right?!”
“…Tsk. Can’t be helped.”
When Gal screamed at the top of his lungs, the guard clicked his tongue and stepped aside. Perhaps to him, even Gal’s nervous behavior looked like a low-ranking member desperately trying to impress the boss.
Creak—THUD.
Beyond the door was a lounge and a staircase leading downward. The men lounging there appeared to be mafia members of the Yuexiang Family. Their clothes were of noticeably better quality than the grunts outside, so they must be mid-level guys. They also asked Gal about Larilura’s identity, but Gal—who had apparently retrained as a human steam whistle—solved everything by screeching at the top of his lungs.
“Whoa… Senior, do you see this? The mold smell is insane!”
Larilura grumbled through telepathy as we descended the stairs.
“Why would anyone want to do bad things while living like sewer rats? If it were me, I’d rather turn myself in and walk in the light than hide underground like this!”
“You’re not wrong, but this isn’t a basement. It’s a tunnel.”
I answered while enhancing all my senses.
“We go down for a bit then come back up. A secret passage connecting to the neighboring building?”
My guess was correct. After climbing a gently sloping V-shaped path, we emerged into a building that had been renovated from a normal house into something resembling a noir mansion.
Gal straightened his back and stood at attention.
The man called boss looked at his politely greeting subordinate with a lukewarm expression. I couldn’t help but snort when I saw the five men in the room. Every single one of them had shaved heads, wore traditional Chinese-style clothing or fur coats, and had queues hanging down their backs.
‘Criminals acting all patriotic. How touching.’
Guys committing crimes abroad while proudly wearing their homeland’s traditional attire? What kind of pathetic national embarrassment was that? There’s a limit to how twisted patriotism can get.
Puff…
The Yuexiang Family boss, who held a long pipe in his mouth, was a fat man with a mustache shaped like the character. He looked exactly like the stereotypical corrupt, obese official you’d imagine. Sensing something off from the slow response, Gal stayed bowed and watched his boss nervously.
“…Boss?”
“I’m not deaf. So, you came to report? Good work.”
—Snap!
The boss flicked his fingers. A muscular dark-skinned thug who looked like a stereotypical gangster put his arm around Gal’s shoulders. As Gal was led away to the side, relief flooded his face. He seemed happy to put some distance between us. He hadn’t seen me transform into a snake earlier, but he had been beaten up quite a bit while being subdued by Larilura.
But that was the last happiness he would ever know.
—CRACK!
The man who had his arm around Gal’s shoulders stepped aside and snapped his neck like a dry twig. The habitual rapist who had targeted Larilura died instantly with his tongue lolling out. Larilura, covering her mouth, frowned in disgust.
“Can’t be helped. When you expand a business, it gets harder to filter out the idiots who come crawling in as errand boys.”
Puff.
The Chinese mafia boss exhaled a cloud of smoke from his pipe.
The boss, whose cheeks were also plump with fat, tapped the ashes from his pipe into an ashtray.
“Hahaha! Sister? What an dishonest answer.”
Temurgul laughed heartily, placed his hand on the armrest, and glared.
Oh please. If you’re going to act tough, at least stop leering. I shook my head inwardly. Birds of a feather, I suppose. This Chinese mafia bastard wasn’t much different from his subordinates.
Apparently thinking the same, Larilura gave a cold laugh.
“We don’t deal with whores. But if it’s necessary for interrogation, we’ll just have to endure it. Our boys need some time to breathe too, so explain yourself slowly.”
Temurgul spoke with a lewd smile that perfectly matched his ugly face.
—Flash!
As if that were the signal, the four guards and executives lunged at Larilura. I immediately covered her with Beast Regression inner armor. Larilura moved as well. The magic item’s effect made our already agile junior as light as a feather.
—THUD!
Larilura’s elbow slammed into the solar plexus of the closest dark-skinned thug.
“Gwaaak?!”
The thug who had been licking his lips while staring at Larilura’s chest folded in half like the letter. Her lightning-fast backhand then delivered a successful double jaw surgery to his face. Still moving, Larilura shook out her glove.
“Ew, there’s spit on it! Gross!”
“Tch! You arrogant bitch!!”
The man drew his sword and unleashed a technique. Dozens of illusory blades poured down, mixing reality and illusion. It was a special mana-based skill. These guys were, after all, mid-level members of a criminal organization. This much was expected.
“Larilura. Watch your legs.”
The swordsman was aiming for her lower body. He probably planned to slash her thighs to immobilize her and take her alive.
—Shushushushk!
The true position of the swinging blade kept changing. Even I found it hard to tell which one was real. By the time I tried to speak, the sword’s position had already shifted again.
‘Right, left, above, third from the middle.’
I could see them, but even if I called them out, Larilura probably wouldn’t be able to keep up. If her weaving had reached a high level, she might have been able to dodge with just upper body movement like Dempsey Roll or counter with jabs, but it was unrealistic to expect such advanced techniques from boxing she had only recently learned.
“Yah!”
So Larilura chose a different response. She deflected the thrust with a low sweeping arm block and followed up with a roundhouse kick. Naturally, her leg was coated with the protection of Aura (Chinese-made).
—CLANG!
A soft woman’s arm struck away a steel sword. The man, who never imagined his blade would be repelled by a bare hand, froze in shock and hastily raised his arms to protect only his head.
CRACK—!!
“Krrraaaaaagh?!”
Larilura’s roundhouse kick shattered the man’s arm. The other executives who had been waiting for a chance to counterattack stopped in horror.
“Damn it, is that Aura?!”
Temurgul also sprang up from his chair and retreated. If the remaining executives attacked at once, they might find an opening, but anyone hit by that Aura punch was guaranteed a one-way ticket to the afterlife. If it had been real Aura, that is.
The swordsman executive asked through gritted teeth as he staggered back. Larilura gracefully recited the name of the martial art I had taught her.
—Hop hop.
—Bounce bounce.
The ridiculously cheeky Taekwon-Step! That light footwork filled my chest with nostalgia.
‘Master Jang Mal-bok… are you watching?’
The essence of Taekwondo you taught that snot-nosed brat Kang Buk-ho has now been passed down even to this fantasy medieval land. I smiled with deep emotion as I recalled my first martial arts master, who had been a bath enthusiast.