Dark Merchant (4)

Sinel's Haste only held the advantage when she could move along the ground.

Having given her the order, I twisted my body as far as it would go. On command, Sinel sprinted for the opposite end of the alley while I barely managed to bring my gun around, the muzzle trained on Lenon from a precarious angle.

Five meters. Four. Three.

The arm holding the pistol was starting to go numb.

The moment my eyes met Lenon's — still brandishing his machete — I carefully squeezed the trigger.

BANG!

The gunshot cracked through the alley as the bullet whistled past his side.

"……!"

Firing from that unstable position, my aim had been nowhere near clean. As a warning shot, though, it did the job. Startled by the round that had skimmed past him, Lenon instinctively fell back several steps.

I seized that sliver of an opening and kicked hard off the wall, shoving myself the other way. My body began sliding backward — slower than when I'd come in, but moving all the same.

"Ha……. You actually startled me."

Lenon recovered almost at once and started shifting completely clear of my line of fire. Lying on my back while being pushed along the ground, clean aiming was nearly impossible — and he seemed to have figured out that my shooting wasn't much of a real threat.

"Boss!"

Right on cue, Sinel appeared at the far end of the alley, dagger drawn. Front and back — both of Lenon's exits were cut off by allies.

"Ugh. This just got annoying……."

He scanned his surroundings, then swung his blade at the nearest man.

Slash!

The machete skimmed across the flinching man's arm. Blood burst free and slid across the pavement.

"Gyaaaaah!"

"Even if I run, I'm taking at least one of you with me!"

Blade still in hand, Lenon hugged the opposite wall and charged. Having seen Sinel coming, he'd decided to break through my side instead of hers. One glance and he'd already picked out the weaker point of the pincer — the professional eye of a robber who knew exactly who to hit.

Click.

I leveled the pistol again. I wasn't some specially trained operative, and I had no illusions about landing a clean shot from this position. But if Lenon was coming at me in earnest, I had to look like I could answer him.

"Hoo……."

Just before he closed the straight line between us, I yanked the trigger.

BANG!

"Argh, fuck! What the hell is that?!"

Under the relentless gunfire, Lenon chose to bolt past me and out of the alley as fast as he could. Judging by the reports alone, it was a magic pistol spitting more than twenty rounds in the blink of an eye. Even one blind bullet finding flesh would be fatal. I wouldn't have stuck around either.

Only then did I let out a breath and push myself upright. The moment he cleared the area, Grease's duration must have ended — standing up gave me no trouble at all.

"Should I chase ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Sinel stepped closer as I got to my feet. I looked from the middle-aged man clutching his arm on the ground to the alley Lenon had vanished down, then shook my head.

I'd come here to catch him, sure — but there was no real need to run him down right this second. The operation had mostly been about getting Sinel and me in sync. Taking Lenon could wait until I'd worked out a countermeasure for Grease.

"No. Leave it. Chasing him is a job for another day."

A spell that reduced friction with a target to almost nothing. The instant you entered its range, even basic movement stopped being free. Next time I came for Lenon, I'd want some kind of plan in place.

I set the thought of him aside and walked over to the man still collapsed on the ground, gripping his arm. Blood kept welling from the gash the machete had left in his forearm. Not a fatal wound, but it needed pressure.

"Augh, nnngh……."

"Sinel. Mind if I borrow that dagger."

"Here."

She handed it over without a second's hesitation. An unfamiliar weight settled into my palm. I had no eye for weapons, but it looked like solid gear.

"Excuse me a moment."

Rip.

I used Sinel's dagger to cut a strip from the man's clothes and bound it tight around the sliced arm as a makeshift bandage. Blood soaked through the cloth almost at once, turning it dark red. The pain must have eased a little, because he lifted his head and managed a word of thanks.

"Th-thank you……."

"You all right?"

"I'm…… fine."

"Good to hear. Once you're out of here, get yourself to a hospital."

Gaunt frame, glasses, a haggard face — nothing about the man suggested he had any business near a fight. The sudden chaos had clearly taken a hard toll on him. I wasn't exactly a combat veteran myself, but surviving in this city left you no choice.

He wiped his bloodied hand on his clothes and held it out to me.

"I'm Wilson Eldeer, senior researcher at Lesert Industries."

"Percival Smith. Lesert Industries, huh. Not a bad place to work."

Lesert Industries. The military-industrial giant that supplied munitions to this city and its mercenary outfits — everything from basic firearms to custom cold weapons and anti-mage rounds. Their in-house security forces were high quality, too; they were one of the corporations the protagonist had to stay wary of throughout the original novel.

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"You're too kind."

"So what's a Lesert Industries researcher doing in a place like this?"

"There was something I had to pick up nearby, so I had no choice but to come myself… I nearly ran into serious trouble."

The city's corporations did plenty of dirty work behind the scenes. Being the largest arms manufacturer in town was no guarantee Lesert Industries stayed clean. I nodded, took his hand, and helped him up.

"You've had a rough time. Get back carefully."

"I feel like I cost you your target. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. He'll keep circling this area anyway. I'll just come back and grab him next time."

"My card. If there's ever anything I can help with, please don't hesitate to call."

"I'll hold on to it."

I took the business card Wilson offered and slipped it into my wallet. Having a line into Lesert Industries couldn't hurt. In this city, they were the only ones who dealt in goods containing mithril — and even a tiny amount of the stuff cost an absurd number of credits. That was how critical a strategic material mithril was.

"I swear I'll repay this debt someday!"

"If you can, I'll take the backup."

We shook hands, and I watched Wilson leave. He still cradled the box against his chest like it was something precious.

After dinner with Sinel, we returned to the office to find a darkened sky waiting for us. Unlike the usual ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠days spent almost entirely indoors, we'd been out moving for a long stretch — maybe that was why the day felt like it had slipped by faster than expected.

I flipped on the lights, stepped inside, and turned to Sinel.

"That's it for today. You can head home."

"Home?"

"Yeah."

"……."

"Something wrong?"

The way she reacted to being told to clock out was a little off. Like she was turning something over in her head. She stood still in front of me for a moment, then shook her head.

"No. I'll be going, then."

"Get home safe. See you tomorrow."

Sinel gathered her things and left the office. Once she was gone, I shrugged off my coat, tossed it onto an empty chair, and stretched out on the oversized sofa. A leather piece I'd picked up cheap off a secondhand marketplace — the comfort seeping into my back felt fantastic.

"Hah… another day done."

It had passed without any real disasters. There had been a brush with mortal danger, sure, but that razor-edge tension wasn't a bad feeling. Herbivores that never stay alert get eaten. Building up a little combat experience never hurt.

"Maybe watch some TV and turn in."

I reached for the remote on the table. The familiar weight settled into my hand. I hit the power button, and the evening news filled the screen. Like the sofa, the big-screen set was something I'd barely managed to snag secondhand — and every time I turned it on, it was one of the more satisfying things I owned.

"Hmm……."

I stared blankly for a bit, then started flipping channels. News. Drama. Sports. Drama. Nothing was landing right tonight.

After zoning out at the screen for a while longer, I finally shut the power off and stood up. There was a can of beer stashed in the office fridge. Knocking that back and going to sleep wouldn't be the worst way to end the night.

Creak.

I walked over, opened the fridge door, and was just reaching for the cold can when I sensed something and froze.

"……."

Tap. Tap.

Creeeeeak.

Suspicious sounds were coming from a hallway that should have been empty. The hand that had been reaching for the beer went tight in an instant, and I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

"Don't tell me……."

The only people who ever came up to the second floor of this building were Sinel and me. Had an assassin come looking for me? I couldn't exactly claim that nothing I'd done so far had earned anyone a grudge. The thought made me immediately regret sending Sinel home.

A fight might be coming. I needed a weapon.

Creak.

I shut the fridge, quietly drew the pistol from my coat, eased the office door open, and stepped out. Then I snapped the muzzle toward the source of the noise.

And standing there was—

"Boss?"

Sinel, leaning against a large suitcase, looking straight at me.

Not an assassin after all — just Sinel. Relief hit for half a second before I lowered the gun and asked her,

"What are you doing out here?"

"Ah, Boss……."

"You left a while ago."

"I was waiting for the start of my next shift."

"……Come again?"

That was not the answer I'd been expecting.