Chapter 138
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 137
Chapter Title: Ruger's White Flag
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In the end, Brof raised the white flag.
He'd finally declared "Yes" to the question, Are you Ruger?
There was no helping it.
With Jin hounding him relentlessly, bolstered by the certainty from the status window's completion message—how could he hold out?
Mindful of the surrounding stares, Brof led Jin and Sylvia down to the shop's basement.
A secret space that opened by pulling the triggers on wall-mounted guns in a specific sequence and number of times...
Or so it seemed. In truth, it was just a matter of subtly pressing a hidden button on the rack.
Jin hadn't noticed it this time either.
Yet he'd memorized the misdirection trick perfectly.
Upper left, the AK-like assault rifle—three times.
Below it, the automatic pistol—five times.
Center right, the Galil lookalike—once.
Diagonal from that...
Even Brof himself was mumbling the fake password he'd press randomly depending on the situation each time, descending the stairs step by step until they reached the basement.
Surrounded by iron cases of various sizes, Brof pointed to a folding chair leaning against the wall.
"Sit wherever."
"Yes, sir!"
Sylvia, brimming with energy, sat down ramrod straight in a sharp posture—like a job interviewee.
Her gray, plain hoodie revealed a ponytail tied tight above it, her bright eyes fixed sparkling on Brof.
"...You'll bore holes in me."
Brof shook his head with a sigh and headed to the corner that passed for a kitchenette in the basement.
Soon after, clattering sounds echoed from within—something being prepared.
A moment later, Brof emerged carefully holding three paper cups filled with instant coffee mix.
"This is all I've got. Make do."
"Yes, sir!"
"...What's your name again?"
"Sylvia, sir! From the R&D sales team!"
Brof let out a sigh as he handed out the paper cups.
"Right, Sylvia. Just one favor."
"Gasp! Y-yes, sir?"
Ruger's favor?
What a precious moment.
Sylvia pressed her hands to her lips, waiting for him to continue.
"Tone it down, please. My ears work fine."
Sylvia blinked.
Her face froze in a brief buffer.
Then, in a sudden whispery voice, she asked softly,
"L-like thiiiis? Is this okayyy?"
Brof let out a weary "Hah."
His eyes turned to Jin, filled with a mix of worry and dizziness—as if asking where he'd picked up this one.
Even amid it all, Jin was still muttering "3, 5, 1, 2..."
Relentlessly memorizing the fake password.
A scene that perfectly fit the phrase "calm chaos."
Amid it, Brof let out a hollow chuckle.
He sipped the cheap coffee.
Wetting his parched mouth lightly before speaking.
"...So what the hell happened? Dolman—that lunatic—is purging employees?"
"Seems like it, from the circumstances."
Jin answered as he glanced at Sylvia.
His eyes conveying: You should explain this better than me.
"Ah! Well, you see—"
Sylvia deftly took up the conversation thread.
Brof's face naturally grew serious as he listened. A bonus.
Time passed that way, until the coffee in the paper cups had gone stone cold.
"...So Wonder's alive?"
"Y-yes. He survived. Sorry for lying."
"If he's alive, that's what matters. Why're you apologizing? The lie came from that blockhead."
Brof's gaze shot like an arrow at Jin, only to ping off harmlessly.
That was how brazenly shameless Jin's face was.
"Yeah, why'd you play dumb like that?"
"...Doesn't mean I could just punch a perfectly healthy—well, not perfectly healthy, but ugh, that face. Couldn't bring myself to."
Brof ground his teeth, glaring at Jin like a grandson he wanted to bite to death.
Whatever. Jin just tossed out the question that needed asking.
"So why'd you go into hiding all this time?"
A man once called "Chairman"—his retirement home felt too shabby for Good Neighbor.
There had to be something. Definitely.
With conviction laced in Jin's question, Brof worked his wrinkled lips.
"Back then, it was the only way to protect the company."
A bitter, weary smile followed.
"Never imagined it'd come to this."
"Sir—no, Chairman. It's not too late. Come back. Everything will work out if you do."
"You really think so? After all that?"
"Well..."
"They pointed guns at a colleague's face for profit. If that's this era's corporate ethic, I won't deny it. But it's not my way. Profit built on lost lives leaves nothing at the end."
Sylvia had no reply.
She just fidgeted with her fists on her lap.
Revealing her tangled feelings plainly.
Soon, biting her lower lip hard, she forced out a voice.
"...Then what should Team Leader do?"
"What do you mean? Quit right now. Why cling on so stubbornly? Don't you value your life?"
"It's not that simp—!"
Sylvia lifted her teary eyes.
That's when it came.
"So come under me instead. If you really waited for me."
Sylvia flinched at Brof's words.
Sniffling unwittingly through her runny nose, she said,
"...Pardon?"
"Don't make me repeat. You heard me. You're not going back to the company anyway. No other options, right? You or Wonder."
"Ah."
As Sylvia's face went blank,
Brof stared into space, twitching his nose bridge.
"Dolman, that crazy bastard. I even gave him a plausible excuse out of pity before vanishing... And he starts a bloodbath in the company? No way he'll hand over shares nicely now."
Jin's eyes turned questioning toward Brof.
"You're telling us why you ghosted... then getting mad about it?"
"Tch! Figure it out yourself."
"Of course I'm curious! Can't I even ask between us? How many magazines and credits have we traded, gramps and me?"
Jin suddenly pulled the "we're tight" card.
Brof couldn't just brush it off.
Above all, Jin was his lifesaver.
Without Jin, he'd have met his end at dusk to grudge-holding gang thugs.
That Gravis 707 wasn't handed over for peanuts for nothing.
A gift to a reckless rookie solo, hoping it'd help him thrive.
Of course, Brof hadn't foreseen it exposing his identity.
"Got a dangerous offer. Recreate a great artifact. Blood boiled as an engineer, but I had to refuse."
"Why?"
"Too much risk for a reckless challenge."
"Hm."
Jin narrowed his eyes.
Not restoration—recreation meant it was completely lost.
A vanished great artifact?
What was it again?
His mind itched.
Felt like he'd heard something similar before.
He had. Twice, even.
First from Kalifa.
Then through merchant Massimo.
"How big was the risk?"
"Believe it caused a war between clans and corps?"
"Whoa."
"R&D profited from it among arms makers. I know better than anyone—it can't be repeated. A disaster."
Brof's face soured.
"Refused, but they wouldn't quit. About to get forced into it. Hid before it escalated."
"If that's why, why ghost completely? Could've tipped off the company quietly. Dolman wouldn't have gone rogue then."
"As if. Lucky he doesn't know. He'd have welcomed it with open arms. Somehow got money-hungry in his old age..."
Brof rambled on variously after that.
Summarized, it went like this:
1. Brof (Ruger) got an offer to recreate a lost artifact.
2. Too risky, refused—but the other side dug in.
3. About to get roped in forcibly! No way. Already losing faith in my wayward partner. Better I leave the company.
4. Arsenal.
5. Knew his shares would go to Dolman and execs. Still, old ties. A farewell gift.
6. But these bastards?
...That's how it happened.
And now.
Brof sighed, wrapping up his tale.
"Thought it was the best call then. Now I see it wasn't. Who'd have thought someone'd wait so loyally."
"It's 'cause Team Leader's that good."
Sylvia muttered blankly.
"Performance too huge to ignore, but not 'their' guy. Promoting to exec gives priority buy on Ruger sir's shares—so they kept blocking. But now... even assassination attempts. Truly rotten."
Seemed less for others' ears,
more muttering to sort her tangled thoughts.
That's when.
"It's fine. We fix it now."
Brof snorted firmly!
His weathered face set resolute as he added,
"First, sell off all the shares."
A few days later.
R&D's strategy team was in uproar.
"What the hell!"
Massive volume traded in a single deal.
Amount: 4% of market cap!
The data screen blatantly displayed the enormous volume from one trade.
If Chairman Dolman hadn't suddenly lost his mind, only one person in the company could move that much.
Ruger.
He'd surfaced. With his vanished shares.
Did the stock plunge in red?
If so, it'd be fortunate.
The 24/7 high-performance AI would've snapped up the floated capital instantly.
The trade happened after market close.
A massive shift from A to B.
A block deal, in other words.
Ruger's shares dumped wholesale to someone specific.
Shares aged three years, soon to trigger forced buyback.
A feast the execs should've enjoyed—gone overnight.
Chaos was inevitable.
Rumor spread like wildfire, reaching Chairman Dolman fast.
"What!!"
His slammed fist cracked the marble desk.
His young face—hard to believe same age as Ruger—twisted viciously.
"Ruger's shares traded? That bastard moved? Now? Suddenly?"
"Yes. Confirmed for now."
"Fucking what. Track the account. Who'd he sell to?"
"Deep Blacknet trade, so can't say for sure yet..."
"That motherfucker!"
A glass ashtray flew.
The hesitant employee pondered dodging—but accepted fate.
Crack!
Blood trickled from his split forehead.
Dolman bellowed again.
"Deep Blacknet my ass! Hire Nautilus-grade code divers if needed—find them!"
Code divers: info brokers and investigators swimming network seas.
"Nautilus"-grade dove the perilous deep Blacknet.
Body prices astronomical, of course.
"...Contact Styx's info broker?"
"Fucking hell, do I coach every step? Handle it!"
The employee flinched at Dolman's roar.
He moonwalked desperately from the office.
Blood drops trailed his backward steps.
Dolman didn't care.
Just kept slamming the innocent desk.
"Ruger, you dog. Screwing me at the last minute?"
Grinding his teeth, fury blazing.
Next day.
Word from Styx's code diver arrived.
At a dizzying sum, the intel read:
[Buyer confirmed as Nova Industries, your rival firm. Traced funds—no results. Not that I couldn't find; Ruger side never reclaimed funds. Middle finger to you, basically. Beef with him? Anyway, funds likely buried deep in Blacknet.]
"FUUUUCK!!!"
Another ashtray took flight.