Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: Luck Always Comes from Unexpected Places
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In this world, the profession with the clearest before-and-after transformation is none other than that of a mercenary.
You might think that's just some pie-in-the-sky nonsense, but we mercenaries fight like asuras driven mad by the fury of war.
Yet once the battle ends, unless there's some extraordinary circumstance, we never mistreat prisoners.
"If you don't want to die, drop your weapons, raise both hands, and get inside that building over there."
Regular armies like those from Rheinpalz or Montmartre would, after capturing prisoners, beat them senseless with spear shafts to ensure they couldn't resist and threaten them with their weapons.
But we went out of our way to treat them with utmost courtesy.
"Don't glance around, or I'll smash your skull."
"Keep your eyes down if you want to live. If you screw up and get caught, I'll really kill you."
"As long as you don't think about running, you won't get beaten for no reason."
Our curses flew thick and fast, and it felt awkward seeing these rough men—obsessed with women and booze—act like unnecessary gentlemen.
But this was all rooted in our own noble philosophy and shrewd calculations as mercenaries.
As I watched my men capture the soldiers who had been garrisoned at Seriz Fortress, organizing my thoughts,
one of the rookies in our platoon approached with a puzzled expression.
"Platoon Leader, sir, may I ask you a question?"
I smiled and nodded at his words.
"Sure, make it two if you want. Spit it out."
"W-why are we treating the prisoners so well? Frankly, regular army bastards sometimes sell mercenaries or serfs who can't pay ransom to slave traders, don't they?"
In this world, there are countless mercenaries, but those captured as prisoners in wars with other countries can end up sold to slave traders if they're unlucky, just like he said.
So sure, we could rough them up and sell them as slaves for a fortune...
'But that'd be the act of an idiot who knows one thing and ignores ten others.'
I channeled a bit of aura into my knuckle and flicked his forehead hard.
"Ow!"
He yelped, clutching his forehead.
"You moron, do we only ever fight alongside the Rheinpalz bastards?"
"N-no, we don't?"
"Exactly. Hell, up until this war, we've been fighting the Rheinpalz sausage-eaters, right? But tomorrow, we might team up with the Montmartre slug spawn. So the best policy after a war is to avoid giving each other any reason to hold grudges."
That's why mercenaries invading enemy territory rarely engage in outright 'plunder,' while regular army troops often commit looting, murder, and rape without restraint.
Of course, there are those evil scum—the kind of mercenaries people typically imagine—who commit all sorts of heinous crimes without scruple...
'But our mercenary corps is a rising star, so we have to play nice and manage our image.'
"Platoon Leader, Captain Dalton says the camp merchants over there want to talk to you."
When another guy came up to relay the message, I nodded irritably, making my annoyance clear.
Glancing toward the camp merchants, I saw them grumbling with faces like they'd bitten into shit.
"Fuck those Montmartre morons. How the hell did they let a surprise attack strip them bare like this?"
"We're gonna lose our shirts at this rate."
"As long as we save our skins, we can worry about the rest later."
For prisoners of the enemy, their laid-back attitude made them seem like veteran warriors.
'They must figure since we're not killing prisoners, we're not gonna kill them either.'
As I approached, their eyes lit up, rubbing their hands like eager salesmen.
"Oh, merciful mercenary, sir... please, just spare our lives."
Merchants in this era are half quack peddlers and con artists, but seeing them flip their attitudes like this was just amusing.
"We won't kill you or sell you. And we won't seize your goods by force either."
At those words, they all broke into beaming smiles, eyes sparkling.
"Really, sir?"
Who knows when we might get hired by the Montmartre side? No need to sour relations with them unnecessarily.
If we did, they might later jack up prices on us out of spite or supply us with shoddy food on purpose.
'And we'd all be screwed because of those bastards.'
In Korea, supplying rotten food leading to food poisoning would cause an uproar due to military supply scandals, but in this world, unless spoiled food ends up on some 'noble' lord's table or causes mass deaths,
they gloss over it with a dog-eat-dog culture where I could end up assassinated with food like some worthless mutt.
On the flip side, if we get chummy with them, we can snag all sorts of info and good goods relatively cheap even on the battlefield...
'Way better to stay on good terms.'
"Of course, we won't pay full price for food or whore fees."
Even hearing that, they teared up and bowed deeply in gratitude.
"Argh, we're just thankful to keep our lives. Paying even for goods and fees—truly, thank you!"
"We'll make sure to tell our guild elders of your grace."
"We never expected full price anyway, sir."
I could feel the sincerity in every word they said.
"You've come all this way, so it'd be a loss if you sold at city prices. Take double the city rate for goods. Same for fees."
"Got it. We'll treat you right."
I drew my sword from its sheath and pointed it at one man's throat.
"Try any tricks or backstabbing, and you won't see good days."
Suddenly facing a blade at his neck, a bead of cold sweat trickled down his face.
"Let's write up a contract first. You know better than anyone why."
"Yes, sir."
With a contract, later when we buy in bulk from their guild, we can leverage the 'mercy we showed their men' for steep discounts.
It also curbs their instinct to sneakily fiddle with prices.
'They came this far risking death for profit, so without a contract, they'd cheat us on city rates anyway.'
"Set up shop and get ready for customers."
At my words, they scattered, rushing to their wagons.
They'd planned to pocket at least ten times the cost, but settling for double was no small loss...
Yet their steps were light, voices laced with relief.
"When the fortress got hit, I thought we were done for."
"Sucks we can't get full value, but double? Double! Better than breaking even—we'll take it."
"Hah, that bastard Seik Baron nearly bankrupted us. This mercenary lord saved our asses."
Camp merchants might leave their consciences at home, but they seemed genuinely grateful for being saved from death and ruin.
Next time we meet, they'll throw in extras, and spread word far and wide how we showed mercy when we could've stripped them bare.
As I turned to leave, I spotted one camp merchant whose steps dragged despite being saved from 'bankruptcy.'
"Hah, saved my life, sure. But double city price? I'll still go bust like this."
Part of me—no, deep down—got pissed seeing him gripe after I spared him.
'Those types would sell their souls for more coin.'
I marched right up to him.
"Hey, you merchant scum."
The grumbler broke out in a cold sweat.
"Someone shows you mercy, and you badmouth behind their back? What's your damn problem?"
Hearing me, he shook his head frantically, waving his hands in denial.
"No, no! Sorry! Please, just spare my life!"
"Hah, look at this guy. Won't fess up honestly?"
Threatening to kill him after sparing his life might seem unreasonable.
"Is it money troubles?"
The merchant nodded vigorously.
"Yes. War broke out, so I borrowed big to cash in. If I can't pay it back, my little sister and older sister get sold as sex slaves to the nobles."
You lunatic—borrow only what you can handle yourself.
Why drag innocent sisters into it as collateral? What an idiot, trash bastard.
But in this situation, it actually worked in my favor.
"You need a lot, huh?"
"I'd need to sell five times what I brought just to break even. Double won't cut it."
Normally, I'd hit him with an 'alppano?' too, but luckily, I had a way to solve his problem and profit myself.
This bastard's pretty lucky, in a way.
"What's your name?"
"Matteo, sir."
"You know any military secrets? Even hearsay's fine. Cough up something truly valuable, and I'll pay."
Asking a mere merchant like this might look ridiculous.
But camp merchants handle army logistics, so while they might not know full strategies, they often get intel on enemy movements—when and how many.
And right now, that info was worth more than its weight in gold to us.
"Speak now or lose your chance. Give me something useful, and this lord will hand you enough coin to change your fate."
Then I opened a leather pouch bulging with several platinum coins right in front of his eyes.
"Our mercenary corps is loaded. We can spot you enough to start your own little trading company."
At that, our Matteo made up his mind and spoke.
"Understood. From what I've gathered..."
And so, over the next hour, our Matteo spilled incredibly detailed and valuable information.
"...That's it."
"How'd you learn all this?"
"To survive as a camp merchant, you bribe knights to know your army's rough movements. Otherwise, no profit."
I jotted down every detail he gave, keeping my expression neutral.
"For now, I'll go hang with my boys. You stay put until we've verified the intel, even after the others finish trading. Pay then."
If this pans out, it'll be a massive jackpot...