A Crow's Gratitude (2)
There had been another document besides the designated one.
It had happened at a pharmaceutical factory. The objective had been a single file, yet two documents were lifted from the office safe. The second had been slipped inside the protective wrapping of the first, concealed until he inspected the contents prior to delivery.
There was nothing particularly extraordinary about it at first glance. One was the original target—a dossier detailing classified pharmaceutical formulas. The other was an informal ledger scribbled with several names and transaction sums. Though the ledger was outside the scope of his contract, Erso had reviewed the contents and handed it over to the Southern Branch all the same.
And right after that, they offered me a live-capture mission.
He had turned it down and returned to the capital, only to be assigned this very job immediately afterward. Nothing about the sequence had felt amiss. At least, not until a moment ago.
It can't be because I refused that mission. I’ve been avoiding assassination contracts lately, but that wouldn't be enough for them to doubt my loyalty…
Then could it be…?
Come to think of it, that factory was bizarre from the start.
A strange prickle of unease had clung to him the moment he infiltrated the place. Putting aside the fact that it was tiny for a production plant, the machinery was so antiquated it was practically falling to pieces, and there hadn't been a single night watchman on the premises. Even an enterprise on the verge of bankruptcy maintained a bare minimum of security.
Don't tell me… it was because of that second document?
Just as he wondered whether he was making too vast a leap in logic, voices drifted up from below.
"Still, why go through the trouble of using a grand exhibition hall like this just to lure in one guy?"
"Must mean he's a target that needs to be scrubbed clean. What other reason could there be? If you want to frame someone and bury them for good, you've got to pin something massive on them."
"So that's why they brought House Blackwood into this."
"We don't know the full story, but word is things are tangled deep. Poor bastard, that Crow."
The conversation left no room for doubt. The true target of this contract was never a classified document. It was Erso himself.
Are you insane…?
He couldn't fathom the reason, but the circumstantial evidence aligned with terrifying clarity: the absurd bounty of two million Cel for snatching a single file, and the pervasive dissonance he had felt during his last assignment.
Did I stumble onto something far too big?
How far did the rot spread? Was it one of the names written in that informal ledger? What on earth was that factory producing?
Don't tell me House Blackwood is tied up in this, too?
A high noble house like Blackwood had no reason to fabricate an underworld contract just to swat an insignificant Crow. But if they had gone out of their way to orchestrate such an elaborate scheme, it meant House Blackwood was inextricably linked to the affair. The revelation struck him like a sledgehammer to the skull.
Damn it all. This is why you should never touch an assignment that smells fishy.
He should have learned his lesson after nearly losing his life in that mess involving House Siren. Greed—the urge to rake in coin while the getting was good—had come back around to bite him. Even so, this was simply too cruel.
What the hell am I supposed to do with my life now?
This contract was designed to conclude only with his corpse. Looking ahead, he saw no path that didn't lead straight into an early grave.
Running… isn't an option either.
Escape the Organization's grasp? Impossible. Only a microscopic fraction of Crows ever managed to buy their way out into a normal life with astronomical sums of money, and even they lived with their memories scrubbed, their every move watched from the shadows. He was trapped, utterly and completely.
"Judging by their breathing, movement, and habits, they are all thoroughly trained," Ziel remarked quietly.
His words only deepened Erso's despair. Those bastards. They really intend to make sure I don't walk out of here alive.
Just what was in that document that pushed House Blackwood this far?
Using a bogus contract as bait and laying the groundwork an entire month in advance implied the contents held staggering value.
Ziel broke the silence. "Will you turn back, Crow?"
"……"
Erso's thoughts were a tangled knot. How could he know what was right, or what move to make next?
If I go back…
His life would be on a countdown. A month from now, he would be killed one way or another. In retrospect, the moment he stepped foot inside this venue, everything would have played out according to their script. Whether he was caught breaking in or cornered on his way out wouldn't matter; they already anticipated his arrival and would have laid an inescapable snare. Most likely, House Blackwood would cut him down directly under the pretext of catching a thief in the act. The Organization, naturally, would disavow any operative captured in the field.
"…I don't know, Senior."
"Make the most efficient choice, Crow."
Erso looked up at the flat, measured tone. "An efficient choice…?"
"The most efficient course is to seize a weapon of your own."
A weapon. The word struck a spark in Erso's glazed eyes.
"A weapon, you say…?"
"Steal their documents. In advance. At a time when they never expect you to move."
"…!"
He was right. Tonight was a full day before the contract was even scheduled to take effect. Officially, the operation hadn't begun. Furthermore, this exhibition hall was a location of paramount importance. If he laid hands not on the fabricated target file, but on the real secrets stashed within this place…
My odds of survival shoot up.
Rather than dying quietly at the Organization's whim, it was infinitely better to swing back with everything he had, even if he went down swinging.
"As of tonight, you were never here," Ziel added.
Senior, you truly operate on a different plane.
Tonight, this man had saved his life. A shiver ran down Erso's spine as he imagined himself a month from now, blithely infiltrating this hall with a grin on his face, dreaming of the massive payout. A meaningless, bewildered death. However worthless a Crow's life might be, he refused to go out like a slaughtered lamb.
"Understood, Senior. That is what I will do."
"There are five men below," Ziel said, laying out the layout of the floor.
"Two from the conversation just now, two in the far corner of the lower chamber, and one stationed outside."
"I managed to sense three of them, but… how did you locate the other two?"
"I differentiated them by scent. Do not rely solely on sound; scent the air of their breath. Every person's exhalation carries a distinct smell."
By the smell of their breath? Well, no two people had identical breath, but still…
How on earth do you pick that up from this distance? It's not like you're standing right in front of their faces.
It wasn't as if every guard down there had chronic halitosis. Senior's sensory acuity was clearly operating in a realm far removed from ordinary mortals.
"You take the one by the door, Crow."
"Understood, Senior."
He couldn't afford to disappoint him. Erso immediately drew a needle coated with paralytic sleeping venom.
"The one closest to the entrance."
Without another word, Ziel popped open the ceiling tile and dropped. Erso followed in his wake, but the moment his boots met the stone floor, his eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
In the split second it took for Erso to land, the three guards Ziel had mentioned slumped silently to the floor.
When did he even—?
There was no time to gawk. Erso dashed forward, closing the distance to the guard by the door and driving the poisoned needle into his neck.
Whew.
After propping the unconscious man against the wall out of sight, Erso hurried back. "Should I take out the one outside the door as well?"
"No. Leave him. Eliminating the guard outside will only increase the likelihood of the roving patrol noticing."
"Understood."
Erso turned toward the interior, beginning his search. Now it was his turn to prove his worth. He was a 1st-Class Crow. While assassination wasn't his forte, he had executed countless infiltrations and extractions.
Here it is.
A hidden compartment that even the guards stationed in this room likely had no inkling of.
Click.
He pressed against a seamlessly disguised section of the wall, and a mechanical lock sprang forward.
Now this is my specialty.
Click, rattle… clack.
Before long, the tumblers gave way.
"Your lockpicking is proficient," Ziel noted.
"Heh, thank you. But this one's a decoy."
Even though the lock turned, nothing opened. It was a delay mechanism designed to throw an intruder into a panic. In reality, a second mechanism had to be disengaged.
Judging by the resonance when the tumblers shifted, it should be right about… here.
Pressing another nondescript point on the panel, a fresh lock popped into view. With everything progressing according to his deductions, Erso couldn't resist explaining with a puff of pride.
"It's a dual-lock system. By placing two exceptionally tricky locks in sequence, it buys time and stalls anyone trying to reach the core intelligence." Erso placed heavy emphasis on the words exceptionally tricky. "What's more, this is the latest mechanical model on the market."
"I know."
"…A-Ah, of course you do."
"Hurry."
"Yes, sir."
Ziel's indifferent response crushed his swelling confidence into dust. Erso swallowed hard and worked the picks.
Snap.
A moment later, the second lock yielded, and the hidden space finally slid open to reveal a safe.
This was the true vault.
Wait, this is…
Erso froze. It was a model he had never encountered in the flesh. More specifically, the locking mechanism itself was abnormal.
This… this is Espen's latest mana-dial safe!
The rumors were true; the damned thing had actually hit the market. It was the notorious mechanism developed in collaboration with a 6th-Tier Mage. While a standard combination dial consisted purely of mechanical components—wheel packs, spindles, and fences…
This integrates pure mana into the tumbler assembly. Unless you channel precisely calibrated quantities of mana in a specific algorithmic sequence at exact micro-intervals, it will never budge. Good grief, a safe you can't crack unless you possess the mana control of an elite spellcaster?!
Had this been a genuine infiltration rather than a trap, Erso would have cursed aloud. Without an ounce of exaggeration, this was a lock that only its creator and the client who commissioned it were supposed to open. At this rate, the underworld was heading toward an era where even common thieves needed advanced mana mastery just to scrape by.
They must have planned to swap it out for a standard lock on the day of the heist so I could actually break in.
Just as despair began to cloud his thoughts, Ziel spoke up.
"Step aside. I will handle it."
"You, Senior?"
"I have cracked one before."
Come on, there's no way.
Erso sighed softly. "Senior, this isn't an ordinary dial lock."
"I am aware. It is a mana-dial mechanism."
"…You really know what this is?"
"Is it not obvious just by looking?"
"Well, yes, but…"
"We have no time."
In truth, Ziel had cracked this exact type of mana-dial vault before—approximately a year ago, well before the design had even been officially released to the market.
Click… rattle… click…
Ziel's fingers flicked the dial with rhythmic, steady precision.
Clack.
The heavy bolts disengaged. The door swung open.
"This is insane…" Erso stammered.
"Gather the contents, Crow."
"H-How did you manage that? Without the algorithmic pattern, it's impossible to bypass!"
"Since it is patterned, calculating it in reverse is trivial."
"…Excuse me?"
Erso felt like a dim-witted student who had just been handed the elegant, spotless solution to an impossible mathematical proof, yet couldn't comprehend a single symbol on the page.
Trivial to calculate in reverse?! That's actually possible?!
He felt utterly minuscule. Please don't make it sound like taking a stroll in the park, Senior! It's supposed to have an automatic mana-reset ward to prevent anyone from doing exactly that—which is why it's a vault in the first place!
"I masked the tumbler with my own mana beforehand to prevent the reset sequence from triggering," Ziel explained flatly. "The rest is elementary. You should know as much."
"…I don't have the faintest idea, Senior. My apologies. Shall we check the files?"
Awed into silence, Erso peered inside. Sitting neatly on the velvet-lined shelf were thick reams of documents, stacks of valuables, and a ledger bound in worn leather.
A ledger?
Flipping it open confirmed his suspicions instantly. It was a clandestine accounting book. There was no way House Blackwood could have amassed this vast collection of priceless art through strictly legitimate avenues.
Pretending to stay above politics while conducting every vile transaction under the sun behind closed doors.
Truly, no one in high society kept their hands clean. But thanks to their duplicity, he had landed a monstrous haul. The schemers would never have anticipated him striking tonight. They probably intended to swap the vault contents closer to the date, which inadvertently allowed them to clean House Blackwood out entirely.
"I have everything, Senior."
"We withdraw."
Exfiltration was simply infiltration in reverse—an ironclad rule of the trade. While contingency routes were standard procedure in case an operation went sideways…
"Whew. We're out."
Rarely did things go this smoothly. They slipped out into the cool night air without so much as a stray glance from the guards. Compared to the tension of breaking in, the escape was laughably effortless. Of course, without Ziel, setting foot inside tonight would have been out of the question.
"…Senior, you saved my life."
"I have done no such thing."
Drawing a line? Ah.
He means he has given me a brand-new life!
Erso's reverence had reached such dizzying heights that his capacity for overinterpretation had warped entirely.
"I will never forget this debt, Senior."
"Now you are capable of undertaking my request."
"…Ah."
Right. The entire reason Senior had intervened in the first place was to hire him for an investigation. Yet given the current circumstances…
"Let us head to my safehouse for now, Senior."
Before they could move, Ziel leveled a calm gaze at him. "A question, Crow."
"Yes, Senior?"
"The recording device inside your safehouse—did you install it?"
"……"
Senior had mentioned it back at the safehouse, noting that the device seemed rather pointless. Erso had let it slide at the time, assuming it was a passing remark, but now…
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes. I never installed anything of the sort."
A cold chill crept up his spine. If it wasn't me, then who? The Organization?
"I neutralized the device when I entered," Ziel said. "It will not have recorded either our arrival or our departure."
"…!"
Erso's knees almost buckled beneath him. The Organization had been monitoring his every breath.
Damn it all…
Just when he thought he had seized a weapon to fight back and could breathe a momentary sigh of relief, his sole sanctuary had ceased to be safe.
"……"
Betrayed by the Organization. Stripped of the safehouse that held the fruits of his entire career as a Crow. Yet here, standing right beside him, was Senior.
Senior's own syndicate!
"We are moving elsewhere, Crow."
Right on cue, Senior extended a hand of salvation! Erso made his resolve on the spot. To his lifelong benefactor, he would swear unyielding fealty.
"I will follow you anywhere, Senior. You have my absolute loyalty."
"We are going to Edelbein Academy."
"Understood. To Edelbein Academ… pardon?"
Had his ears failed him?
"Where, did you say?"
"Edelbein Academy."
"You mean… the imperial academy…?"
"The Edelbein Academy Faculty Lodging, to be precise."
"Excuse me?"
Ziel looked at Erso's bewildered expression, let out a short, understanding hum, and gave a slight nod.
"There is no need to concern yourself with school regulations. Outsiders are permitted entry during the break period."
"That's…"
That is not the issue here!
The faculty dormitory of Edelbein Academy? Why in the world were they going there?