Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Episode 009 (3)
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3.
Crunch, crunch—.
A chilling sound continued to reverberate.
It was an utterly repulsive noise, like gnawing on one's nails.
The sound had been leaking out nonstop ever since Kuhn left.
And the source was none other than the direction of Jack's office.
From within, Jack spoke, his face drenched in cold sweat.
"…The executioner got here this fast?"
His bloodshot eyes and quivering Adam's apple laid bare his anxiety.
It was inevitable.
To those who lurked in the continent's underworld like them, the Jordic Family's knights—especially the group called executioners—were natural predators.
Predators, or reapers of death.
Anywhere else, it might be different, but in the northern continent under Jordic rule, those two terms fit perfectly.
The mere fact of encountering one sent shivers racing down the spine.
Whether one had committed a crime or not hardly mattered.
That was the fate of those scraping by in the northern continent's shadows, just like him.
As if to prove it, a chill crept up One-Eyed Jack's body.
────Chill.
They were the sort who wouldn't hesitate to launch an all-out war against an information guild if needed, right in their own territory.
That was what the Jordic executioners were.
Of course, "Dirty Hand" wasn't without options.
Information was a refined power rivaling military might, authority, or wealth—and no matter what, they were an information guild with roots firmly planted across the continent.
There were surely ways to find a path out.
But….
The clear reason "Dirty Hand" had been powerless in their ongoing clashes was obvious.
'If they come charging in with solid justification, even the guild headquarters can't lift a finger.'
The information guild "Dirty Hand," surviving in the continent's underbelly, had coexisted with other groups only because they never crossed the line.
The executioners knew this well, always bringing evidence and clear justification when clashing with guild branches.
Proof that the branch had engaged in excessive crimes, or infringed on Jordic interests—
And the public justification built on that proof.
Against thugs throwing their weight around, maybe—but facing executioners wielding both proof and justification made it a decision even headquarters couldn't rush into.
No, their method of targeting only the guilty branches without turning the entire headquarters into an enemy was almost commendably clean.
"Damn it all—!"
…And the problem here was that he was the one infringing on Jordic interests.
'Damn it, damn it! ─Damn it!!'
Jack spat curses.
Nervously biting his nails, he glared at the bundles of silver coins piled in his drawer.
As explained earlier, it was a heap of silver coins substantial even at a glance.
At the same time, it was far too much for a mere information guild branch chief to handle, no matter how shrewd.
Especially considering it was earnings from just one month, not half a year or quarter—
Jack chewed his lips, his face taut with tension.
'How the hell did things end up like this?'
It had started innocently enough: just a thought to make a bit more money. But somehow, it had snowballed to this.
Like a frog slowly boiling in a pot.
'But it was too much money to turn down!'
Perhaps because he'd been dealing with them for over a year already.
'Backing out now feels too shady anyway—.'
The silver lining—if it could be called that—was that the so-called executioner seemed like a green kid, without solid proof in hand.
Otherwise, the brat wouldn't have visited the branch as a guest.
'He'd have come storming in with a horde of other executioners.'
And—
'I've bought two days' time, and just sent someone to him moments ago. I've done all I can?'
Either way, the key was evidence.
Proof that he'd colluded with those people.
Proof that he'd sown subtle chaos into information about the Monglashe region heading to Jordic.
If he erased that evidence, nothing incriminating would remain.
"So stay calm, no panicking. Calm, calm."
Despite muttering this, Jack's hands were already slick with cold sweat as he repeated himself.
It was then, as Jack mumbled the same words like a madman.
"What exactly do you need to stay so calm about?"
Creeeak—.
The door flew open with the groan of old hinges, without warning from any subordinate.
At the same time, a thick stench of blood wafted in from the outer passage.
"…W-Who are you?"
Faint golden flecks in crimson eyes, and deep reddish-brown hair tinged the same hue.
The one who appeared was a slender young man.
Black blood dripped from the blade in his hand.
Recognizing him, Jack's face drained to pale rigidity in an instant.
"H-How…?"
Naturally, the youth stepping inside was Kuhn.
In his grip dangled a freshly severed head.
The head of the man who'd gone down the manhole cover just minutes ago, on Jack's orders.
Spotting it, Jack gaped in horror. Kuhn, gazing down with impassive eyes, parted his lips slightly.
"You were up to something amusing, One-Eyed Jack."
"Y-You… that guy… h-how…?"
Jack's eyes and throat trembled in terror, as if he'd seen the unthinkable.
"A t-trap? N-No way, you planned this from the start? E-Even a green executioner couldn't predict—?"
True to his position as an information guild branch chief—not won by luck—Jack babbled incoherently even in fear.
Impressed inwardly, Kuhn responded coolly.
"Well, it wasn't something I was certain of. Just a hunch it might be possible."
If the guy hadn't hastily sent his errand boy outside, none of this would have happened from the start.
A blunder from rushing in the heat of the moment.
Kuhn shrugged and tossed the head in his hand toward Jack.
Whoosh, thud, roll, tumble—.
The severed head arced through the air and landed before Jack.
Seeing it roll across his desk, One-Eyed Jack shrieked in panic.
"H-Hiiik—!!"
After all, he was a branch chief of the massive information guild "Dirty Hand."
He'd witnessed severed heads—and worse—several times before.
Like when he'd ousted the previous chief in an uprising.
But—
"U-Ugh…."
…For some reason, today's horror felt even more terrifying than those memories.
"…If they're supplying bandits regularly and can even rope in an information guild branch chief, their backing has to be the Bandit Alliance, right?"
Kuhn continued.
"Someone capable of scheming this much would have a collaborator around mid-level exec in the Bandit Alliance."
"H-How d-did you—!?"
Jack, blurting it out reflexively, clamped his mouth shut.
He'd realized too late he'd said what he absolutely shouldn't.
But it was already too late.
"Just as I thought."
Ashen-gray mana seeped from Kuhn's body as he nodded, confirming his guess.
────Whoosh.
.
.
「Bandit Alliance」
Unlike "Dirty Hand," made of prostitutes, pickpockets, petty thieves, and gamblers, the Bandit Alliance was literally a coalition dominated by bandits.
Not just mountain bandits, but horse bandits, river pirates, even seafaring ones.
All kinds of bandits united—unlike "Dirty Hand" teetering on the edge of legality, they stood firmly outside the law.
Yet, reasons allowed the Bandit Alliance to maintain its form.
The first was its pyramid structure.
'Hard to uproot, and vast in numbers.'
A group with quality lacking but manpower exceeding even the five great families combined.
That was the Bandit Alliance.
Moreover, its leaders, the "Three Heads," were all known superhumans.
Mere bandit chiefs rivaling the heavyweights of the five families or vassal house heads in strength.
As Kuhn pondered this, Jack glared and trembled his fingers under the desk.
'W-What the hell is this guy—.'
His intuition and insight were eerily sharp.
No mere executioner youth should possess such seasoned aura.
It felt like facing a veteran knight from countless battlefields or a mercenary captain emerged from a hellish mire.
Of course, Jack wasn't just shocked or flustered.
He'd lost face unintentionally, but he was still one of the continent's top information guild branch chiefs.
"……."
While feigning surprise, Jack subtly shifted his eyes. He stared at the drawer beneath his desk.
Click—.
Not to grab money and flee.
It was to seize something hidden deep in the silver coin-filled drawer.
Grope, grope—.
Soon, his fingertips caught a small pouch. The rough texture brushing his skin.
A pouch of poison powder.
To think he'd let him fidget so freely.
'Heh. Even a Jordic executioner is still just a novice.'
No executioner could stay composed with poison dust in their eyes.
Subduing a blinded foe was child's play.
A mistake no veteran executioner would make!
'You'll die for that mistake—!?'
Before Jack's thought ended—!
────Swoosh, stab!
The blade shot out, piercing desk, hand, and poison pouch in one thrust.
────Spurt!
"G-Gaaaahhh!"
Too swift to track when the sword was drawn.
Palm impaled, poison stinging, Jack screamed bloody murder.
Kuhn reached out amid the agony.
Crack—!
"—Guh!"
"Now you seem ready for a proper talk."
He yanked Jack's hair roughly as he spoke.
"One more foolish move, and I'll sever your ankles next."
Kuhn's icy voice pierced Jack's mind like lightning.