The Broker's Betrayal
"R, Rerto Karen? You mean that bland-looking guy who came by last night?"
I chuckled at Hamma's description.
"Bland? Heh, not wrong. His face is pretty plain. Go on."
Hamma, gauging my casual dismissal of Rerto Karen, flashed a sly grin as he quickly realized we weren't close. He was probably weighing which side would benefit him most right now.
Sharp instincts. No point hiding it—if I try, it'll just give him more leverage.
To handle snakes like him, you had to make them see you as the top dog in any web of connections.
"Mind if I ask what he wanted?"
"Why does it matter? Depending on whether I'm his buddy or the hunter out to skin him alive, your answer changes? What, you planning to send me off on some wild goose chase like you do with Rerto?"
"N-no, of course not!"
Hamma flinched at my words, waving his hands frantically.
"I know your tricks inside out. Everyone in the Shadow Market knows you're the one handling all the dirty work."
"D-dirty work? I'm just an info broker buying and selling intel, nothing more."
"Sure. The problem's selling slave traders backdoor routes to dodge kingdom patrols, or tipping off monster hunters about forbidden beasts. And you team up with those scum to mislead adventurers, waiting for them to die so you can sweep up their abandoned gear. Am I wrong?"
"H-ha... No way..."
Hamma mumbled that, but he couldn't meet my eyes.
"Or selling off wounded adventurers to slavers. That damn Night Auction House still running in the Shadow Market?"
Hamma jumped at my question, eyes wide like how do you know? And for good reason—the Night Auction House was a VIP den, invite-only for a tiny elite.
The Shadow Market's an underworld hub, but the Night Auction House beneath it? That's the continent's pinnacle black market—stolen adventurer loot, slaves, drugs, smuggled goods.
Human trafficking was an abomination that should be wiped out, but for now, exploiting it paid off. Especially for hidden quests—items impossible through normal channels were a breeze here.
Seize the Night Auction House.
That was another move I needed to make before the Eight Great Clans. My intel on Obela's secrets came courtesy of the auction house's owner, Red Cat Phlia.
Crack! I twisted Hamma's thumb clean off while he gawked, the bone snapping with a wet pop.
"Answer's taking too long."
"A-aaaagh! Y-yes! It is! It is!"
"When does it open?"
"M-midnight! Tonight's the third night—the auction's on. You're in luck, sir!"
"Hm."
I glanced at the wall clock. Forty minutes to midnight. I nodded.
"Spare me the bootlicking. Plenty of time to chat. Good. We'll hit the auction later. First—where'd you send Rerto Karen?"
I patted the whimpering Hamma's shoulder lightly, his broken thumb clutched in agony.
"He asked about Parahum's Tomb. Said he needed the lost king's scepter there."
I tilted my head slightly.
Parahum's top-tier necromancer monster, commanding undead hordes. And that lost scepter in the tomb? A relic amplifying necromantic power...
Rerto Karen hailed from Eltia Iron Kingdom's Kartinin family, masters of silver sword aura—devastating against undead.
Exterminate demons, defend the realm. That's their motto. He's not after the scepter—he wants to smash it.
True to their swordmaster legacy, the Kartinins forged heirs through endless trials. Rerto's Legendary class, Divine Knight, had no doubt crowned him a prime successor.
I didn't know the quest details, but this screamed one of his first ordeals post-class acquisition.
Smashing the scepter outright feels wasteful...
I licked my lips and pressed on.
"What intel did you feed Rerto Karen?"
"H-ha... Well..."
Hamma hesitated.
"If you'd sent him straight, you'd be dead by my hand."
"Huh?"
He stared blankly, then grinned sheepishly as it sank in.
"Haha, exactly. In the Shadow Market, you never trust buyers or sellers."
"Where'd you redirect them?"
"Look, they had zero shot at Parahum. Didn't even know what lurked inside."
"Most think holy weapons are key against the undead king, but ice weapons are what you need to drop him."
"Knew it—felt from the start you weren't ordinary. Yeah, clueless fools charging in... pathetic."
"Not just 'cause you hate the Iron Kingdom?"
"Wh-what? Me?"
"So no homesickness for the kingdom anymore?"
His shoulder twitched.
Info Broker Hamma (NPC) is flustered.
Info Broker Hamma (NPC) begins to suspect you.
Hamma (NPC)'s reputation toward you shifts from Neutral to Slightly Hostile.
These rare system pings confirmed I'd hit the mark.
"No need to get defensive. Plenty of info brokers out there. Just shooting straight."
I pulled the Dragon's Claw from my inventory and flashed it.
"Th-this... You're the dragon hunter everyone's buzzing about. Rumors from the north said some outsider bagged the Spirit Devourer Dragon, but I had my doubts. Heh."
Hamma's keen eyes verified it instantly, piecing together my identity.
"Figured you weren't average, but a dragon slayer? My pathetic past's nothing to you."
Hamma's reputation toward you shifts from Slightly Hostile to Friendly.
What a flip-flopper. I smirked as he rubbed his hands, groveling.
"Sent that dullard to the Spider Lord's Tomb. His sword looked decent, so figured I'd recover it after the Spider Queen snacks on him."
"Collecting gear from the Spider Queen's lair ain't easy."
"Haha, Obela kids crawl that tomb like home. Adventurers love the spider silk ropes inside. But cutting 'em needs special oil—Obela secret recipe. Outsiders never know."
He fetched an old brown vial from a drawer behind his book piles. Popping the cork unleashed a sour stench that stung the nose.
Foul.
Even Black Eye's Sin-su body sighed in disgust.
"Sand snail mucus."
"Haha, damn. Can't hide anything from you. Impressed."
Hamma slapped his forehead dramatically, laughing.
"Melts the Spider Queen's silk, snag the gear off the lines."
"You forgot one thing."
"Huh?"
"Think the Spider Queen sits idle while you hack her webs? How do you Obelans handle her when harvesting?"
"Haha, well..."
"Cough up the hoof moth sleep powder too."
Hamma shook his head, defeated.
"What don't you know?"
"Came here for it. Payment? Your life."
"W-what? Even so..."
"Still clueless who you sent to the Spider Lord's Tomb? Iron Kingdom's Kartinin family knight, officially recognized. He's on trial for Kartinin's Divine Knight. You sabotaged it. Know what that means?"
Hamma paled.
"Don't wanna piss off the Kartinins. You worked for the kingdom once—you know their power better than most."
Gulp. His throat bobbed audibly.
"Lucky you met me. I'll free them, guide 'em right. Tell 'em you realized the screw-up and sent me. Might even patch ties with the kingdom if luck holds."
I pocketed the items. Hamma's silence meant agreement.
"Still miss your Intelligence Bureau days, huh."
"H-how'd you know I was—"
He gaped genuinely shocked. I just pressed a finger to my lips—quiet.
Got all the Spider Lord's Tomb prep. Save Rerto or not? Tomb and Parahum's close. Quest's seven days—time to spare.
Mission accomplished, I checked the clock again.
Lucky. Time to swing by.
I nodded at Hamma.
"Midnight for the Night Auction House, right?"
"Yes. But... no invite, no entry."
"Bidders need 'em. Sellers? Intro from an invitee gets you vetted to list goods."
"S-seller?"
I dangled the Dragon's Claw.
"Auctioning this. Introduce me, get me in."
"Whoa..."
He gawked.
Info Broker Hamma (NPC) is impressed.
Info Broker Hamma (NPC) shows affinity toward you.
Hamma (NPC)'s reputation toward you shifts from Friendly to Highly Friendly.
Even after the beating, his eyes gleamed with admiration.
"But... why the Night Auction House?"
I smirked despite myself.
Smart bastard knows which side to pick.
But he was irrelevant.
"Red Cat Phlia."
To claim it, go for the head, not the minnows.