Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Does the Saintess Dream of the Sacrificial Lamb? (3)
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***
As soon as they entered the base camp, acrid cigarette smoke greeted the dawn.
Beyond the thick haze that made him involuntarily furrow his brow, a long table formed by pushing together the camp's small tables held about seven or eight mercenaries seated around it.
Each one was on a different level from ordinary mercenaries.
Most carried mana within them, and even those who didn't exude any had eyes that were far from ordinary.
Among them were familiar faces. Vice Captain Kim Mansu and the scar-covered man who had overseen the test, Man Seok-cheol.
"Ah, our proud new recruit has finally arrived."
But in this space, only one man could open his mouth.
The man seated at the far end of the table, in the place of honor.
As expected, he was a man who boasted a mercenary-like appearance. Rough and feral.
A hulking build, a scraggly beard, and a dark fur coat. Even back in his cleanup crew days, Yeomyeong would have spotted him instantly as a mercenary.
But Yeomyeong was no longer a cleanup crew member, and he was more sensitive to mana than anyone else present.
He read the cold mana emanating from the man's body. It was like that of a surgeon entering the operating room—chilly and sharp.
'A man whose outside and inside are worlds apart...'
It was easy to see why Tianlin had called him a 'vicious' one.
"Look at me, forgetting my manners. I haven't even introduced myself. The newbie hasn't seen me before."
He feigned a hearty laugh that didn't reach his heart. The other mercenaries chuckled along with him, but none of them spoke up.
"I'm Kwon Mongju, captain of the First Death Mercenary Group. Newbie, just call me Captain Kwon."
"...."
"No need to be so tense. Take a seat comfortably."
The spot the captain indicated was directly across from him—the one where all eyes would converge, and closest to the entrance.
Yeomyeong sat down without protest. Tianlin, who had been watching his back, claimed one of the empty seats at the table.
"Now that the man of the hour is here, shall we continue our discussion?"
The captain cleared his throat with a cough, and the mercenaries who had been smoking promptly stubbed out their cigarettes and focused.
"First order of business: how to distribute the dragon's ribs we obtained in last night's battle?"
Distribute? Starting with this already? Yeomyeong swallowed a hollow laugh and watched the captain prattle on.
"The Saintess claimed half the stake, so half falls to our mercenary group."
Our mercenary group— the captain's intentions were obvious.
'One or the other. Seeing something stirs desire, huh.'
While Yeomyeong shook his head, the captain continued.
"But no need for disappointment. Even that's an enormous amount. They say it could make at least three swords, or two breastplates."
The moment he likened it to swords and armor, several mercenaries' eyes lit up. The captain grinned fiercely at them.
"But we won't be making weapons. We're not dwarves, after all... Strengthening the mercenary group's forces comes first. Got it?"
"...."
"Conveniently, international elixir prices have dropped, so let's use this chance to recruit a few more superhumans."
With that, silence descended over the table. The captain had stopped speaking and turned his gaze to Yeomyeong.
Following the captain's lead, all eyes fixed on the low seat, where Yeomyeong raised a hand with an indifferent expression.
"Newbie, got something to say?"
"What's my share of the ribs?"
The captain wagged a finger with a laughing face, as if the question was absurd.
"Share? You're misunderstanding something. Newbie, during probation, everything a mercenary acquires belongs to the group."
"...."
"I know it stings, but that's the mercenary code. That said... no need to worry too much. Do you think our group would shortchange a top-tier recruit? The best elixir is yours. I stake my name on it."
A bold smile and subtly arched brows. The look of someone bestowing a great favor.
Yeomyeong ignored it and scanned the other mercenaries.
Most wore attitudes of what’s-the-problem, while Kim Mansu and Tianlin avoided his eyes.
It left a bitter taste. Yeomyeong fell silent for a moment, pondering his options.
The first thought that came was murder.
Kill everyone here, wipe out Team 3 waiting outside, and walk away clean.
'...What am I even thinking.'
Yeomyeong chuckled at his own ridiculous notion.
Murder? The worst possible move.
He had come to build fame, not become a killer in Manchuria.
Above all, a mass killing inside a military base? The army wouldn't sit idly by.
Beyond greed for the ribs, it was a matter of face. An investigation would naturally follow, and Yeomyeong would top the suspect list.
'Murder's out, so other options...'
Next came negotiation.
But the captain's words stuck this time.
He'd boldly declared that all probationary gains belonged to the group.
True or false, it would mean butting heads with the captain under the guise of negotiation—a battle of wills that could drag on for days or months.
'...A waste of time.'
If he had leeway, fine—but he had only six months in Manchuria.
Until academy enrollment, time precious solely for gaining fame—time he couldn't afford to squander bickering over ribs.
...Realizing that, only one choice remained.
Just hand over the ribs.
No pointless time sink with the First Death Mercenary Group, and it would shake off all the other fools eyeing the ribs.
The ribs were a shame to lose, but that was it. If it hindered his goal, abandoning it wasn't bad.
Having decided, Yeomyeong looked at the captain and spoke.
"Captain Kwon. I'm leaving the group."
The flat declaration changed the faces of the mercenaries at the table.
Some eyed him with interest, others scowled.
"Newbie, seems like a misunderstanding. Even if you leave, the ribs' ownership stays with our group..."
"No, that's fine. The First Death Mercenary Group can do whatever with the ribs."
"...."
"Just announce to the Manchuria base that I no longer have anything to do with the ribs. That's all I want."
Yeomyeong replied quietly. The captain's brow twitched.
As Kim Mansu wore a devastated look and Tianlin turned away, Yeomyeong stood.
"I'll submit the resignation later."
Yeomyeong turned lightly. He'd already erased the ribs from his mind long ago.
The moment he recalled other mercenary group lists and bounty posters.
"Wait."
The captain halted his steps and swept his gaze over the base camp.
"Everyone out."
"Captain?"
"You too, Vice Captain. Out."
Kim Mansu furrowed his brow as if to protest, but the captain pointed firmly at the door with unyielding eyes.
Kim Mansu, Tianlin, and the other mercenaries didn't defy the order. They filed out of the base camp with various expressions.
Ironically, Yeomyeong—who had been the first to try leaving—ended up alone with the captain in the camp.
***
"...What is it?"
Yeomyeong asked, and the aura from the captain shifted.
He shed the hearty mercenary facade he'd worn moments ago and scanned Yeomyeong with a cold expression.
Then, the next instant, the captain bowed his head.
"Sorry. I apologize for the rudeness earlier."
"...."
"Being a mercenary, it's not easy refusing the paying client's words. Sometimes you have to play along in petty tests like that."
What’s this about? As Yeomyeong furrowed his brow, his senses picked up someone approaching.
Thud.
The presence entered between the base camp and the barracks through the back door. The footsteps were heavier than any human's. Naturally so.
For the intruder wasn't human.
"Petty test? That's harsh, Captain Kwon Mongju."
Short and stout, with bulging eyes, a snub nose, and a lush beard reaching his belly.
The one who stepped between them was a dwarf in an expensive suit.
"...Who are you?"
"What? You don't know me?"
The moment Yeomyeong asked, the dwarf stared at him in surprise, as if how could you not know.
"Hah, you really don't. Then, do you know Dungan Heavy Industries?"
Dungan Heavy Industries Group, the global conglomerate next to the Chicago dimensional gate.
A rival to Korea in steel and shipbuilding, Yeomyeong had heard of it in the news often.
"Ah, at least you know Dungan Heavy Industries. I'm Darulma Dun, holding a pretty high position there."
"...Dun family? Chaebol?"
Now it was Yeomyeong's turn to be surprised.
"We call it a clan among ourselves... but Koreans love that term. Call it whatever you like."
The dwarf shrugged nonchalantly, approached the table, and sat in the captain's former seat of honor.
"Self-intros are done. Time to talk business."
He plunked a stack of documents on the table.
"Captain Kwon Mongju? Mind if I explain?"
The captain stepped back without a word, as if the dwarf were his superior. Seeing this, Yeomyeong recalled Tianlin's words anew.
'An investor was coming.'
The mercenary group's investor was a dwarf chaebol? As Yeomyeong confirmed it, the dwarf pulled a sheet from the top of the stack.
"Cheon Yeomyeong. I apologize again for the petty test. But we needed to test you."
The moment he saw the document, Yeomyeong realized what it was.
The forged application form Seti had manipulated.
"We couldn't easily trust someone who hid their skills and joined via a faked application."
The dwarf waved the paper as he spoke. Yeomyeong raised one eyebrow.
"...What's the point? I said I'm leaving the group."
"Leave if you want. We don't need you to stay in this mercenary group."
"...Then?"
"To cut to the chase, we want to entrust you with a commission."
A commission? What’s this about? Yeomyeong glanced between the dwarf and the captain.
"Sounds out of left field. I get it."
The dwarf stroked his beard slowly.
"Where to start... Right, from there. My First Death Mercenary Group and I have been searching for a certain treasure hidden in Manchuria for a very long time."
"...."
"After much searching, we nearly pinpointed its location... but one problem. A dragon was guarding the spot."
Such a place in Manchuria? It sounded absurd. Yeomyeong frowned and asked.
"...If that's the case, just fly in a helicopter and kill the dragon, right?"
"Helicopter? You want us advertising we're hunting a dragon? You've experienced it yourself—you know how greedy Manchuria's soldiers are."
Yeomyeong involuntarily recalled the military claiming ownership of the dragon ribs. Yeah, greedy.
"We need a superhuman who can take down a dragon with a small team. Ideally, someone who can carve up its bones."
The dwarf eyed Yeomyeong's face with greed and anticipation.
"Honestly, it's hard to believe someone like you appeared before us right now."
"...I see."
"In cases like this, there's two answers: fate's blessing, or you're a terrifying con artist."
"...."
"But seeing you casually declare you'd leave over the ribs convinced me. You're not a con targeting me. A con wouldn't give up the ribs so easily."
It wasn't exactly easy, but... Yeomyeong didn't bother correcting him.
"In short, our meeting is fate's blessing."
Hearing the confident tone, Yeomyeong inwardly scoffed. Regardless, the dwarf stared at him with blazing eyes.
"Well, Cheon Yeomyeong. My offer is simple. Will you hunt the dragon with us? Or... regret missing the opportunity of a lifetime?"
The dwarf extended his hand. A chaebol's hand, laden with glittering rings on every finger.
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