Traitor Merchant (3)
“……”
Ju Kang-rim stared at him in disbelief. It was as good as saying he just wanted to toy with him.
Ju Kang-rim frowned at the fact that he'd fallen for Simra's bullshit, but Simra was still waiting for his answer.
“You're really proposing a deal for Yeomra's Ledger of the Underworld?”
“If you bring it to me, then I, Simra, will stake everything to wipe out every last immortal.”
“You know that includes your own life, right?”
“Of course.”
Simra answered without the slightest hesitation.
Ju Kang-rim recalled Yeomra's Ledger of the Underworld. The way it popped up simply through Biman and instantly extended his lifespan by twenty thousand years like it was nothing. No wonder Simra was drooling over it.
But he's offering up his own life along with every other immortal? Wouldn't that make the ledger pointless?
There was a reason people said they'd rather roll in a shit field than die. You had to be alive to do anything. Even if Simra got the ledger, once he died and went to the afterlife, what good would it be?
But Ju Kang-rim had zero interest in the deal. How the hell was he supposed to get Yeomra's Ledger of the Underworld in the first place?
He decided not to dwell on Simra's proposal. It was just one of his usual insane offers.
Even before his regression, Simra had tried peddling crap like selling Canada or asking if he wanted King Arthur's sword, all at ridiculous prices. He'd probably pitched something similar to Yeomra, and even Yeomra—who desperately wanted the immortals dead—had turned him down. Thank God Yeomra had screwed over this lunatic.
“Looks like the deal's off.”
“How am I supposed to steal from the guy who holds my lifeline?”
Yeomra was probably eavesdropping through Biman right now anyway.
“If you really want to save the world, Simra, why not just mobilize the immortals yourself or hand over all your intel? That'd slash their numbers just like you want.”
“Unfortunately, it's not that simple. Even if the grim reapers know, it doesn't mean we can act freely, right?”
That much was true. He didn't know about the other grim reapers, but Yoo Wol-ryeong left most immortal hunts to him. And in his previous life, he'd watched the world end without lifting a finger.
“Besides, I've already made a deal with Lord Yeomra. He saves the world, and in exchange, I provide three divine relics and fair trade. Anything more would violate the contract.”
Ju Kang-rim was floored by Simra's words. So he'd given what he promised, and now he didn't give a shit if the world ended? Even though he was the one who'd begged Yeomra to save it?
“Lord Yeomra figured he didn't need to hand over the ledger too. Whatever happens next is on him. If he needs more, he should offer equivalent value.”
“Even if the world ends?”
“Gotta trust the contract holder.”
Simra toyed with his lips and grinned.
“If the investment flops, that's on the merchant.”
Yeah. That was Simra. The kind of guy who'd haggle with his rescuer over the price while drowning. Serving under him had been a nightmare.
“So, does that spark any interest in dealing with me, Simra?”
Not even a speck. If anything, Ju Kang-rim was starting to worry what this guy would do with Shine Sand.
“No……”
“What do you plan to do with the Shine Sand?”
Yoo Wol-ryeong cut in, signaling him to at least hear the man out.
Simra winked and continued.
“Do you know what Shine Sand is made from?”
“……Some nasty chemical shit, probably.”
“Close enough. The real answer is black cores.”
“Black cores?”
***
Simra pulled something from his pocket—or whatever passed for one on his half-naked body.
It was a small glass vial containing a black core.
“Shine Sand is made by combining chemicals with black cores. It's a vicious drug that addicts even the soul.”
“And what the hell are you gonna use it for……?”
Ju Kang-rim swallowed the urge to say, you bastard?
Simra grinned.
“Something far more valuable than breeding junkies. Saving people? Nah, Shine Sand's profit margins are too low for that.”
“Low margins? Better than drug dealing?”
“Yes. If the world ends, breeding ghouls might pay off. But if it's saved? Useless.”
Clap.
Simra clapped his hands.
“Either way—world doomed or saved—there's profit to be made! As a zombie plague suppressant!”
Zombie plague suppressant.
Corporations were already making them from black cores. They were just insanely expensive.
“You can turn Shine Sand into a zombie suppressant?”
“Opposite, actually! Shine Sand is the byproduct of making suppressants.”
Simra cackled.
“If the world's going down, people will line up for suppressants! Saved or not, they'll keep needing them. Spears and shields in eternal tug-of-war! And folks spare no expense on saving their own skins!”
Simra's eyes gleamed as he pressed on.
“Plus, this market's a massive blue ocean. Zombie cases skyrocket daily, but supply lags due to tech limits. Use pre-refined Shine Sand, though? I can flood the market. Monopoly city!”
Ju Kang-rim desperately wanted to bury an axe in Simra's face. Even a global pandemic was just a money pit to him.
Paradoxically, if anyone could convert every speck of Shine Sand worldwide into suppressants, it'd be Simra. And between pricey Shine Sand or pricey suppressants on the market? No contest—the latter.
Hateful as he was, Simra could be a lifeline for zombie plague victims.
“So, what's your goal here? Worth dealing?”
Ju Kang-rim glanced at Yoo Wol-ryeong. Even she nodded wearily.
He let out a long sigh.
“Just so we're clear: if I find out that Shine Sand's used for bullshit, I'll drop everything and come for you first.”
Simra's guard growled from behind.
Ju Kang-rim growled right back.
But Simra just smiled.
“Does that mean the deal's on? Shall we shake on it?”
“Skip it.”
***
“Excellent. Deal sealed.”
Clap clap clap.
Simra applauded himself gleefully.
His side would handle transporting the container of Shine Sand. Ju Kang-rim had set up the meeting himself, but he never wanted to see this guy again.
“Can't measure the exact amount on this freighter, so we'll value it based on the known quantity. What do you want as payment?”
Simra beamed.
“The price we discussed earlier……”
“You're not seriously asking for a wire transfer, are you? Got a business account that can handle 20 billion won without tripping the financial regulators?”
“Samdo Group, please.”
Yoo Wol-ryeong cut in. Ju Kang-rim nodded in agreement. Samdo Group had the transaction volume to dodge oversight, and Simra knew how to launder it clean.
“Or how about this?”
Simra waggled his fingers wildly.
“Anytime Grim Reaper Ju demands 20 billion in goods, I deliver. Weapons, mercs, intel—whatever.”
Ju Kang-rim liked it. Simra was a pain to deal with, but his info and goods were top-tier. If he could snag the latest US military gear, what couldn't he get?
“Not bad. Let's do that.”
“Perfect, perfect!”
Simra lunged for a handshake, but Ju Kang-rim yanked away.
“I hope you get my sincerity now, Reaper Ju. You see how much I love and cherish this world, right?”
Simra winked.
Ju Kang-rim sincerely wanted to gouge out that eye.
“Shine Sand, weapons—anything you're selling, hit me up. I'll send my Biman contact.”
“If we need something, Reaper Yoo Wol-ryeong will reach out.”
Ju Kang-rim had zero interest in saving Simra's number.
Simra didn't care.
“Personal info's dirt cheap in China—100 won for prime spots. Tracking your number's child's play.”
“……”
“Oh, and I supply custom Biman avatars and emotes. Lord Yeomra raves about 'em.”
“You made those too?!”
Watching Yeomra and Yoo Wol-ryeong chit-chat as cute SD characters always left him feeling left out. But he wasn't dropping 3,000 nyang on emotes.
“Just act cute for me once, and I'll gift you a set.”
Ju Kang-rim flinched but held firm. In his past life, he'd have groveled without prompting. Now? Full grim reaper. Simra might even be the one owing him.
Even if he was broke.
“Plus another 10 billion on top?”
“No…… need. Don't insult me by trading on cheap name value.”
“Aw, I figured your cuteness was worth that much.”
He should've split Simra's skull with an axe, Yoo Wol-ryeong be damned.
“One more time, Reaper Ju: dealing with me is a massive privilege.”
Simra hammered it home.
“Especially for a grunt like you. Me offering a 'sincere' and 'fair' trade?”
“Maybe I'm not worthy of you, Simra.”
Ju Kang-rim flashed a venomous smile.
“But if a lofty noble like you stuck his face in the shithole I'm wading through, it'd hurt like hell. Really worrying me.”
To Ju Kang-rim, Simra was no VIP anymore. Still took guts to say it.
His guards growled from the shadows again.
“Sharp wit.”
Simra laughed it off cheerfully.
Ju Kang-rim adjusted his tie and glared.
Simra approached, slipping a business card into his pocket with a whisper.
“But my earlier offer? Dead serious. Always on the table.”
Simra turned and headed for the cruise ship. He'd take the whole freighter out to international waters to transfer the cargo.
One guard—the man—glared at Ju Kang-rim, pointed to his eyes, then at him.
Ju Kang-rim flipped him off, complete with foxfire glow for emphasis.
“See ya! Rare meeting with reapers, no blood, no thrice-named bullshit. Meaningful enough!”
“Haha, hope you run aground and choke on barnacles till the sea drowns you.”
Simra shouted back from the fishing boat.
“Don't forget, Reaper Ju: nothing in this world can't be traded. Can't buy hope with money? Bullshit. Money buys hope!”
Hope could be bought with money.
Simra's favorite line. Here, "money" meant any tradable value. Love, hope, even life—if the price was right.
As he spoke, the banner on the ship—"Holy shit, cheaper than a tire for a human life!"—peeled away, revealing new text.
Mephistopheles
The cruise ship's name. Simra's other alias.