Chapter 204: Negotiations and The Hammer (1)
Chapter 204: Negotiations and The Hammer (1)
The return of the Purple Ones….
I guess I can’t keep calling them that forever.
“By the way, what’s the name of their race?”
“It translates to ‘Human.’”
…Huh?
Why are they using the same word as us?
“Ah, it seems the translation kicked in. Hmm. You should pronounce it roughly as ‘Nuu.’”
I see.
The residence of the Nuu Race, which we had returned to, welcomed us with a much quieter and calmer atmosphere than I expected.
A guide didn’t immediately appear the moment we stepped through the door, but after walking along the street for about ten minutes, soldiers who volunteered to be our guides met us.
They were completely different from the thugs we had encountered so many times before.
Unlike those who were sloppily dressed and carried clubs, these men were sharp. They wore well-fitted sleeveless uniforms that exposed their four arms and carried polished rods at their waists.
Seeing as they had used those rods to communicate during our last fight, they were likely tools for manifesting magic.
Regardless, they bowed politely toward us and said in clipped voices:
‘Lee Ha-ram. Al’shel. Are these your names?’
After confirming, they began to lead the way.
There were no useless questions, no superficial greetings. They remained silent, surrounding us like bodyguards protecting a VIP.
It was a stiff reception, but I actually preferred it this way. It made it easier not to get attached.
Both Al’shel and I intended to accept Grix’s proposal, but the negotiations weren't finalized yet.
After this conversation with Grix, we didn't know if they would be enemies or allies. So, this formal treatment was better.
We walked into a building under their escort. Inside, unlike when we first arrived, there were numerous Nuu running through the hallways clutching documents.
Fitting for a race that traded in information, their soldiers likely focused on intelligence activities, which explained the frantic pace.
They seemed too busy with work to care, only glancing at us with curiosity before quickly hurrying past.
However, not everyone was so composed. The moment some of them saw Al’shel’s face, they frothed at the mouth and fainted.
In any case, ignoring those minor incidents, they guided us to the end of a long corridor.
Just before entering the Stone Dome, they spoke to us for the first time since the escort began.
“This is as far as we go.”
It was essentially a farewell.
Receiving that parting word, we quietly stepped through the stone door.
* * *
“I heard you were coming, but you arrived sooner than expected, didn’t you?”
The one who met us inside the Stone Dome was a Nuu with a fairly sturdy build.
He wasn't exactly hulking, but he was a one-armed man with light purple skin that showed lean muscle throughout his body. His voice, too, was that of a robust Young Man.
“…And who might you be?”
“You should have seen me within your inner self. Though that was my appearance in my prime. I am Grix.”
…?
That guy?
The Gray Mummy turned into that?
How on earth is that even possible?
Just as I was about to voice my confusion amidst a whirlwind of thoughts, Al’shel spoke up.
“Lee Ha-ram. Your thoughts are written all over your face.”
“I mean, it’d be weirder if they weren’t. Wouldn’t you be shocked if a guy who looked like a corpse yesterday suddenly changed like this?”
“Calling me a corpse is a bit harsh.”
Shut it, you mummy geezer.
“I can do that as well. It’s a technique to minimize life activity and extend one’s lifespan. It’s a biological function inherent to our race.”
For a split second, the image of a dried squid flashed through my mind, but for the sake of Al’shel’s dignity, I didn't say it out loud.
“What you say is correct. Though, my race lacks such innate ability, so I had to borrow various powers.”
Smiling, he stroked the stone chair he was sitting on.
“How long has it been since I last stood up from here? I can’t even remember anymore. Roughly… has the sun set 300,000 times?”
As if he had something to ponder, he closed his eyes and quietly drifted into thought, despite our presence.
It was a heavy, atmospheric moment, but something entirely different dominated my mind….
“How many hours are in a day here?”
“It varies by room, but here, it’s roughly 30 hours when converted.”
Okay, so… 300,000 times 30… um….
Yeah, I have no idea.
“Is that roughly a thousand years?”
“…Let’s just say it is. It’s not like it’s important.”
Would it kill you to just do the math for me?
Right, it wasn't important.
However, a different emotion took hold of me.
A thousand years just sitting there. What must he have thought while sustaining himself and his race for that long?
I waited for about a minute for Grix to stop reminiscing and return from his thoughts.
He slowly opened his numerous eyes one by one. The moment the last eye opened, he spoke.
“So, Star Race. I assume you’ve come to give me an answer to my proposal?”
“That is correct.”
“And what is your answer?”
At Grix’s question, a sound like stone cracking came from Al’shel’s mouth beside me.
Cr-crack.
“Since there is reaaaally no other choice….”
Snap.
The sound of breaking stone echoed again.
“We shall accept the proposal.”
What exactly was that octopus so annoyed about?
Was it having to hold hands with the Demon Train establishment he hated so much?
Or was it forming an alliance with a lower race?
Or was it simply Al’shel’s twisted ego?
Hmm.
Maybe it was all of the above.
I’ve become a regular expert at observing this octopus. To think I can read his emotions just by his expression and skin color.
Al’shel, grinding his teeth, looked dissatisfied with everything. His skin turned black as he spat a glob of sticky mucus onto the stone floor—the height of rudeness.
“Good. I thought the Star Race would have more pride, but you are more pragmatic than I expected.”
Grix merely replied nonchalantly, as if he had anticipated such behavior.
“Grrr… I have no intention of repeating the arrogance of my race.”
“Excellent. Very well. Then, what information do you desire?”
Grix said this as he sat back in his stone chair and waved his hand.
“As of now, I can disclose everything, even the highest-level secrets.”
At that moment, countless bundles of paper fell from the air.
From pristine booklets that looked freshly printed to documents bound with clips that had turned yellow with age, and even strange bundles tied together with string through punched holes.
Countless stacks of paper that made one feel the weight of history itself.
It might have been a simple performance, but the history contained in those stacks made me feel a sense of trust toward that being.
“Ptooey.Haa. Before that, I have a question.”
Al’shel, having spat out a second glob of mucus, seemed to have finally calmed down. He regained his usual cold voice.
“Ask anything. Since we are now allies, consider the payment as having been made in advance. Though, if you wish to pay, I will certainly accept.”
Grix looked like a young king as he spoke.
His tone and actions carried the weight of age, but within them, the formality of addressing someone lower than himself was revealed without filter.
Yet, it wasn't to the point of being offensive.
Does that mean he has a certain level of inner strength?
While I was interestingly observing and analyzing this unique side of Grix, Al’shel continued.
“Haa.Whew. Here is my question. First, you asked us to guarantee the safety of the Nuu Race.”
“I did.”
“Are there no conditions or restrictions on what we must do regarding that?”
Hmm? Now that he mentions it, that’s true.
We can’t protect them forever, and if we make things worse over the next 30 days, that condition would be for nothing.
“It is enough if you act within a range that does not harm my race as much as possible.”
“There is a possibility that the Nuu Race becomes a Public Enemy during our actions, and we might leave the Demon Train due to the time limit.”
“I am aware. In that case, how about leaving behind the currency you possess? That would be sufficient.”
The atmosphere was getting strange.
Grix, who should be the one protecting the Nuu Race, was being nonchalant, while Al’shel was the one nitpicking the details.
“…Is there a magical contract or an oath with special power regarding this?”
“Is it necessary? I will provide one if you wish. Though, since you two are overwhelmingly strong, I suspect it would break if you resisted.”
Hearing that, even I became confused.
And I couldn't understand why Al’shel, who was in a much more advantageous position in this negotiation, was being so persistent.
“Do you think that makes any sense?”
“Why do you think it doesn’t?”
This is infuriating.
Even a blockhead like me gets it, so why is Grix, the party involved, being so carefree?
“No. Doesn’t this mean you’re handing everything over based solely on our word that we’ll consider your race? How are we supposed to believe this? They say nothing is more expensive than something free. It’s a proverb found in every civilization. I’m sure the Nuu Race has one too.”
Exactly. That’s it.
What is he trusting in us to act like this?
I was going crazy trying to understand it myself.
For Al’shel, the self-proclaimed planner, this situation seemed even harder to endure. He began to lose his cool, mucus oozing from his skin.
“That is quite simple. I have read your memories, Al’shel, and I saw the sincerity in your desire to change the Demon Train. I am simply betting everything on that.”
“…Even in the current situation, the Nuu Race could survive for thousands of years.”
“They could survive, yes.”
Grix raised his arm and struck the armrest of his stone chair.
“What does this look like to you?”
“A chair… made of stone.”
“You already know that isn’t the case, don’t you, Al’shel?”
A smirk.
A dashing smile spread across Grix’s face.
In contrast, Al’shel’s mouth was covered in mucus, making him look quite ugly by comparison.
“Ptooey. It’s a life support system. One applied with highly advanced magic and technology.”
Huh? No matter how I look at it, it’s just a rock. It has a function like that?
The question sprouted, but honestly, with magic and Otherworldly Technology around, I figured anything was possible. I just stared blankly at the stone ceiling.
I guess that ceiling has some function too, then.
“Precisely. And it is something the current Nuu Race can neither build nor repair.”
Grix slowly stroked the armrest.
“It is an object that will one day reach the end of its lifespan and break. I thought a strong individual would emerge within the race to succeed me before then… but in the end, there has been no sign of one appearing.”
As Grix continued, strength gathered in his voice.
As if to demonstrate this, the hand that had been gently stroking the armrest began to grip it violently.
“You said we could survive, but that is not survival. It is merely maintaining the status quo.”
His words began to connect with the thoughts I had yesterday.
Society cannot be maintained.
Individual cultures disappear.
Technology vanishes, and they revert to being simple tribes of the old days.
The days when they hunted for food.
While survival itself is guaranteed by the current system of the Demon Train, the race as a whole is gradually weakening.
In such a state, what would happen to the Nuu Race if their only absolute powerhouse died?
As if in answer, Grix spoke.
“The pace is merely slow, but this is a complete downfall.”
Crack.
Perhaps because Grix gripped the armrest so hard, the end of it broke, and small stone fragments scattered onto the floor.
“So, I am simply placing a bet. To die slowly… or to bet on a game that changes everything.”
Unlike before, Grix now looked full of vigor.
As if he could pick up a sword and rush onto the battlefield this very moment.
However, the final words that followed from his mouth were the exact opposite.
“Because I, too… am tired.”