Chapter 52
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Black Market (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The languid afternoon sun warmed the village's red rooftops with gentle rays.
As if by prior agreement, the villagers' gazes all stretched toward the clear road leading north.
"I wonder when Polly's caravan will show up?"
They waited in perfect peace, imagining the wagons loaded to the brim with seeds and supplies.
"Hey? Village chief! Someone's coming over there!"
A ratkin girl shouted from atop a crumbling temple pillar they'd repurposed as a watchtower.
I shot to my feet and stared down the road.
"Oh, finally... Huh?"
The cheer that had slipped out caught in my throat.
What approached along the road should have been wagons.
No.
It was a single, wavering shadow, staggering like a heat haze.
As the distance closed, a thick stench of blood assaulted us.
It was a human.
"Hey! That's the adventurer Polly hired as a guard!"
Sena's urgent cry drew my eyes closer, and sure enough, it was a familiar face. The adventurer was drenched head to toe in red, heaving ragged breaths like a beast.
"He... Help..."
The moment he reached the village outskirts, he collapsed to the ground like a snapped thread.
"Kyaaah! B-blood! Blood!"
"Where's Polly? Where's Polly?!"
The village entrance turned to pandemonium in an instant. Ratkin girls screamed and stomped their feet.
"Calm down! No hysterics—get to your posts!"
I bellowed loud enough to make the open square ring.
"Rat Rangers! Fan out to the village perimeter and keep watch ahead! Sena, grab the first-aid kit now!"
At my firm command, the trained Rangers drew their bowguns and scattered.
I rushed to the blood-soaked adventurer and dropped to my knees.
His shoulder was horribly pierced.
He'd barely avoided his heart and throat, but blood poured endlessly, soaking the dirt.
"Out of the way, Reti! Hearth Goddess!"
Sena arrived with the kit and pressed her hands over the wound.
Warm holy flames enveloped the torn flesh. The gushing blood stopped as if by miracle.
"Grrgh!"
"Just hang on a bit longer!"
We bound the wound tightly with bandages, and his ragged gasps gradually steadied.
I waited until his eyes fluttered open, then slid a cup of water to his side.
"Ugh... Th-thanks..."
"What happened? Bandits? Where's Polly?"
"Hah... Hah... N-no. Not just some bandit gang..."
The adventurer's unfocused eyes roamed the air as his trembling lips moved.
"They didn't even glance at the wagons."
"What does that mean?"
I pressed, and he swallowed dryly before speaking slowly. It was a whisper dragging up a nightmare.
"It was at a fork in the road... Suddenly, these sickening pops from the woods—pop, pop—and Polly and the caravan crew toppled like puppets with cut strings."
"No sound of attack?"
"Yeah. They dropped one by one, without even a scream."
Pain and shame twisted the adventurer's face.
"Damn it! I barely drew my sword and knocked away the flying darts. Right as I went to counter... A thunderous gunshot from the woods."
"Wait—guns?"
"Yeah. That roar! Next thing... Damn it, my shoulder!"
Even groaning like a beast, he rummaged in his bloodied pouch with shaking hands.
"The boss... got dragged off by them... and dropped this."
Sena gasped at the dust-caked object.
It was the acorn pendant Polly always wore, symbol of her merchant house.
I took it carefully. The cold metal touched my palm, and I clenched my fist until the edges bit into my skin.
Not ordinary roadside bandits.
Silently stunning targets with noiseless weapons, then crushing resisting guards with overwhelming firepower.
Leaving valuables behind to snatch only beastkin.
The work of a highly trained kidnapping outfit.
"Mani, Hilde! Arm the Ranger vanguard and follow me! Temi! Assemble all first-years!"
We grabbed our weapons and sprinted madly down the road.
The scene matched the adventurer's account perfectly.
Right in the middle of the road, wagons full of food and building supplies sat abandoned intact.
Even if they dismissed the rest as junk...
They hadn't touched so much as the strongbox on the wagon.
Donkeys and horses were gone without a trace.
The dirt bore dark red bloodstains and chaotic signs of desperate struggle.
"Lord, let the kids loose a bit."
[Got it!]
At Rodentia's gesture, dozens of spirit horned rats scattered into the brush and along the road.
"Reti, come here!"
Sena's voice grew urgent as she inspected the wagon.
Her finger pointed to three or four thin, sharp needles deeply embedded in a wooden post.
"These needles... smell weird, right?"
Up close, a sharp, eerie stench pierced my lungs.
My brow furrowed instinctively.
"Never seen anything like it."
Hilde, following behind, yanked one out and hardened her expression coldly.
"This is..."
"Ring any bells?"
"Special needle rounds. Only usable in my Vintbuse air rifle."
Hilde sniffed the yellowish liquid on the tip and clicked her tongue.
"Adlerheim hunters use them sometimes to capture rare beasts alive. Coated with anesthetic or poison."
"No bodies, so... anesthetic."
The adventurer's tale clicked into place like puzzle pieces.
The silent takedown weapon: needle rounds fired by compressed air.
Then, a spirit horned rat rummaging the brush returned, something in its mouth, chittering.
"Chit! Chitchit!"
"Huh? What's that?"
It spat a charred paper lump at my feet.
Lifting it released a heavy gunpowder reek.
Round like a thick cigar, hollow inside.
Hilde's eyes widened in shock at the sight.
"Huh? Why's this here? Gimme!"
Before I could speak, she snatched it.
"What is it?"
"Paper cartridge!"
"...Cartridge?"
The unexpected word froze my thoughts. Was the 'cartridge' from my past life memories being used the same in this world?
"Ugh, typical country rat! You don't even know cartridges?"
"Uh... the ones that bundle powder and bullet with a primer in the base, right?"
"You do know? Specially treated oiled paper wraps it all, load into the gun, and fire."
A chill ran down my spine.
Someone armed with serious high-performance firearms.
I stared at the cartridge in disbelief in Hilde's hand.
"This spec fits Adlerheim Empire needle rifles. Military issue!"
Hilde's fingers trembled.
"Why's imperial army gear in some backwater bandit hands?!"
My mind tangled in knots. The kidnappers' armament far exceeded mere thieves.
[Oh no! My poor children! Dragged off by wicked humans!]
Rodentia, recalling the circling spirit horned rats, let out a mixed lament.
[The scent's fading!]
"Any more leads?"
At Sena's urgent question, Rodentia's form shook its head mournfully.
[Wagon wheel tracks and the children's scents head straight north! They vanish completely at the mountain path entrance. Cunning devils!]
Our eyes turned naturally north.
Beyond the horizon loomed a massive range bearing gray clouds, crushing the view. The landscape was rugged mountains bordering the Adlerheim Empire, riddled with yawning mines.
So they were taken somewhere into that brutal gray range.
Remaining clues scattered like dust. Charging blindly would make us the hunted. I tamped down boiling rage and gripped cold reason.
Don't know their numbers or base. And they're using army-standard weapons.
Storming enemy territory blind was like leaping into fire with dry brush for kindling.
"Head to the northern guild branch first."
I turned with a hardened face.
I stepped into the guild branch.
"What can I do for you?"
"A commission."
I dumped half my silver coins unhesitatingly on the counter.
Ching!
The heavy clink of silver drew every eye in the building.
"Buying info on the northern road disappearances. Ten silvers per lead. Fifty for solid base intel."
I posted the hefty bounty, then bought rounds for lobby adventurers.
Slipping questions amid the rising booze haze, I scraped together fragmented intel.
But half a day yielded mostly crude rumors.
As frustration led to rubbing my dry face, a memory flickered.
A place Polly had offhandedly mentioned once.
Capital back alleys. Black market...
From cheap exchanges to seedy taverns thick with gossip, and shadowy streets hiding info brokers versed in underworld ways.
I peeled from the chair back, adjusting my rapid bowgun. Mani blinked wide-eyed.
"Where to, Reti?"
"Gotta meet these info brokers. Pour enough coin, and maybe learn who's backing this kidnapping—who's pulling strings."
Hand on the guild door...
"Where you going, you dumb rat?!"
Hilde stood tsking in disbelief.
"Why? With money, the brokers..."
"You know where? Or rather, a ratkin openly sniffing for other ratkin?"
Hilde pinched her brow pityingly.
"Never been to a black market? You think shaking a coin purse in that getup ends well? Brokers gonna play nice? Nah, they'll tip off the kidnappers for double dip—'lone rat pup sniffing around'."
Hilde's jab halted me cold.
Damn. Me out front advertises we're tracking.
"...Yeah, you're right. So what now?"
"Hmph, I got ways!"
Hilde snorted and stepped forward. She brushed dirt from her uniform, stiffening the expensive collar.
"This calls for a noble foreign aristocrat like me! I even know the tavern hiding a broker."
"What? For real?"
"Dealt with 'em before. Plus, I'm foreign. They'll bite without suspicion."
Pieces fell into place.
"But... can't just ask outright? Need a cover..."
"How's this?"
I grinned back.
"Haughty foreign noble lady seeks rare squirrel beastkin maid. Black market hunt. Something like that?"
"Oho."
Hilde's eyes sparkled.
"Brain finally turning, rat!"
Perfect script.
Her usual arrogant attitude would make a fine weapon.
"Thanks, Hilde."
"Huh?"
"Was stuck, but now I feel solid."
Mani chimed in.
"Yeah! Thought you were just a snooty elf, but reconsidered! I'll overlook one short joke from now on!"
Hilde's shoulders stiffened at our praise.
A faint blush crept her pale cheeks; she whipped her gaze away.
"Hmph! You'd better be grateful!"
She fake-coughed, tilting her chin haughtily.
"This great magus-rifleman deigns to help—honor your house! Last time wiping you rats' asses!"
Hilde stomped out the guild door.
Alright. Now we're a spoiled half-elf lady from Adlerheim and her lowly beastkin servants.
Disguise solid for infiltrating the capital black market.
The acorn pendant in my pocket chilled my fingertips.
Hold on, Polly.
We rats always find our mark.