Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Bread and Candy (3)
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I thought that I shouldn't judge everything based solely on a moment of anger or the situation right in front of me.
Maybe... just maybe, what I knew wasn't the whole story.
'There might be some unavoidable circumstances or something else hidden...'
That faint possibility was why I'd come to meet Ricardo in person.
But... unfortunately, there was no twist.
"Miss, you seem young and naive. In this city, you don't need power or laws. With enough money, you can even become a god."
There was no trace of any complex circumstances or human anguish in Ricardo's explanation or his vile actions.
He was a flat, stereotypical villain.
Maybe my effort to see even a shred of possibility in trash like him as a 'person' had been for nothing. Even so, I didn't give up and asked again.
After all, the weight of condemning someone as a person is never light.
I had a duty to confirm everything right up to the end.
"What about the other people suffering for you to make your money? What happens to their lives?"
"Who knows. Why should I care?"
He grabbed another bottle of liquor and took a casual swig before continuing.
"Hey, miss. Look at me. I might not look it, but I came from the back-alley gutter trash down below. But look at me now—I've made it."
He stroked his shiny gold ring and smirked arrogantly.
"Do you know the difference between me and the other trash? I used my head and didn't care about methods or means. But those guys? They don't even know how to try. They're pathetic beggars who'll live like trash and die miserably anyway, right?"
He picked up one of the blue pills on the table—Heaven Candy.
"If those kinds of lives help my business even a little before they die... isn't that more valuable? Heh."
"No, you're wrong."
Ricardo's brow furrowed slightly at my firm response.
I remembered looking out the window one sleepless night after falling into this city.
The countless people heading to factories or labor markets at the crack of dawn.
Rubbing sleepy eyes and dragging weary steps, their fierce struggle to survive in this harsh society was awe-inspiring.
And the customers I'd faced while working at the pizza shop flashed through my mind.
The young mechanic in oil-stained clothes who came after working late, the taxi driver who'd driven through the night, the plumber unclogging sewers, the cashier at the mart, the laborers on dusty construction sites.
Even in this cesspool of a city, there were plenty of people living honestly and diligently day by day, without resorting to crime.
"Are they idiots for not stealing or selling drugs like you?"
I asked Ricardo directly.
"No. They're far wiser and stronger than people like you. They're just honest. Instead of making others shed bloody tears for profit, they chose to live righteously through their own sweat."
Of course, I knew their lives weren't easy. They were treated as cheaper labor than machine maintenance, barely scraping by on absurdly low wages, enduring day after day.
I understood this place's irrational system well.
The weak's honest mistakes become unforgivable sins.
The powerful's massive wrongs go unpunished by anyone.
A society where only the worst—those who deceive, exploit, and squeeze blood from others—can climb higher.
"But just because society runs that way doesn't make it right. No one—not you or anyone—has the right to treat, ignore, or trample those who live without sinning as fools."
My voice came out firmer than even I expected.
I knew I wasn't some hero. No one had given me the right to play apostle of justice. I'd never dreamed of eradicating all evil.
But... that didn't mean I wanted to ignore what had to be done.
There was no more reason to hesitate.
"Esty. Please."
"As you command."
The moment I finished speaking, Esty threw a punch at the man without hesitation.
A sharp whoosh cut through the air. Her fist was clearly aimed at Ricardo's vital point.
Boom!!!
But the attack didn't land.
A massive crash echoed as the door—which had been closed until just moments ago—burst open, and black-suited men charged in.
"What the...!"
Two bodyguards blocked Esty's path. Their reaction speed was astonishing. They'd barely thrown themselves in to deflect the impact, but they'd still blocked her strike.
Ricardo, lounging on the sofa, grinned at the sight.
"Did you think I had time to chat idly with you? I called the guards ages ago."
No sooner had he spoken than full-scale combat erupted between her and the two bodyguards.
It was 2-on-1, unfavorable odds, but Esty's movements remained overwhelming. The bodyguards were pushed back by her fast, precise offense, scrambling to defend as fragments of their cyberware shattered and flew everywhere.
But... surprisingly, they were holding out well. They were definitely not like the street thugs or first-floor guards.
'They're higher caliber than expected...!'
They undoubtedly had top-tier cyberware implants and combat training. That explained why the entrance guards had let us up without a thorough search, and why Ricardo had stayed so calm with suspicious intruders like us.
'He had elites like these on standby...'
As the commotion grew, more similarly dressed bodyguards appeared from the hallway, surrounding Ricardo.
By the time Esty finally took down the first two, five new ones had formed a defensive line, glaring our way.
A brief standoff ensued.
Esty pulled back to my side instead of pressing the attack. She spoke softly, her voice—for once—acknowledging the disadvantage.
"We should withdraw for now. I'll handle the cleanup here. Joseph."
"Yes?"
"We're in."
At Esty's call, I startled and looked around.
A familiar man had silently approached from behind us.
She must have contacted him in advance. She gave Joseph concise instructions.
"Escort Eve to safety."
"Understood."
He approached without hesitation.
"Pardon me, Eve."
"W-Wait..."
Before I could protest or assess the situation, Joseph's strong arms scooped me up effortlessly. The next instant, the scenery blurred past.
When I came to, I was already in the dark back alley outside the club.
"Urgh..."
The high-speed movement left my stomach churning.
Joseph gently set me down. I staggered to the wall, dry-heaving for a while.
"Hup... Hoo..."
Once I'd calmed my stomach and looked up, Joseph was watching me with concern.
But this wasn't what needed worrying now.
I turned toward the club and asked.
"Esty... she'll be okay, right?"
"Don't worry... She won't lose to trash like that."
His unwavering assurance eased my mind a bit. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A few anxious hours passed. Fortunately, Esty returned before long.
The moment I opened the door to greet her, I gasped.
She was covered in blood.
"...!"
But on closer inspection, she had almost no wounds of her own. It was just the enemy's blood.
'Even so, coming back in that state...'
It must have been an intense fight. I couldn't bring myself to ask what happened.
I just spoke in a trembling voice.
"I'm so glad you're safe. And... I'm sorry."
At my apology, Esty's expression—which had seemed sharper than usual—softened.
She looked at me belatedly and gave a faint smile.
"For you... I'd endure far worse. So don't worry, Eve."
With that, Esty headed to the bathroom. Soon after, she emerged cleaned up and in fresh clothes.
She sat before us, composed. Now it was time to discuss the situation properly. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "First, I'll share the intel I've gathered personally."
"The Ricardo Family. They're on a whole different level from the back-alley gangsters we've encountered. They receive direct manpower and funding from their parent organization, the Los Haguare Cartel, so their foundation is solid."
"If we clash head-on without backing down, it won't be some minor turf war—it'll be full-scale war. If you're not prepared... it might be better to relocate to another district now."
"..."
"Understood. Continuing the briefing."
"If we strike and the Ricardo Family takes direct damage, whether the parent Los Haguare Cartel intervenes is unknown. They might step in, or cut them loose like a tail. But the Ricardo Family alone is no pushover."
"The biggest issue is the armed bodyguard unit you saw at the club—high-grade cyberware elites. They're Ricardo's personal hitmen, called Sicarios."
"From gathered intel, all of them have at least Class 7 combat cyberware. That's equivalent to Omega Detroit Police special forces spec—on par with most military-grade implants."
"The Ricardo Family has at least thirty such operatives."
"As you know, Eve, my body still has many unrepaired internal armaments. So the maximum I can handle at once... is about half of them."
"That's why all-out war... Honestly, our odds are slim."
"What?"
It was the first time I'd seen Esty admit her limits.
But that wasn't what truly shocked me.
Esty's prowess was proven. Rather than her being weak, it was unnatural how strong a drug lord's guards were. I wondered how a subsidiary could field that much firepower.
Even with parent funding, employing and maintaining thirty mercenaries of that caliber would cost a fortune. It didn't add up economically for a back-alley operation.
As if reading my doubts, Esty added key info.
"There's one peculiarity about those Sicarios."
"Peculiarity?"
"Yes. They're all drug addicts."
"...!"
Esty's following explanation was shocking.
"The Ricardo Family targets top mercenaries in the area. Then, using lures, honey traps, bribing associates—whatever it takes—they addict them to a special drug. Once hooked, the rest is easy."
Exposure to the drug irreversibly warps the brain. Basic human drives like sleep, hunger, and lust pale against withdrawal agony. No matter how strong-willed, everyone crumbles eventually, swearing blind loyalty to whoever holds the drugs—Ricardo.
"And those deeply addicted feel no fear in battle."
High-grade cyberware mercenaries charging to kill, heedless of self-preservation.
That was how the Ricardo Family gained infamy so quickly.
Maybe Ricardo's real talent wasn't selling drugs, but addicting and controlling people with them.
Once leashed that way, it became the harshest, strongest chain of domination in existence.
They never betray their master. Or rather... they can't.
It was horrifying. But another possibility flickered in my mind.
"Wait. Tell me more about those Sicarios?"
What if that sturdy leash was their greatest fatal weakness?