Guide Through the Darkness (3)
Right after Usher and Ney vanished from the office, Sword Saint—who had been leaning against the wall listening to our conversation—sat down in the empty chair across from me.
The sword at her hip caught on the floor as she settled in, tilting at an angle. She unfastened the blade, laid it across her knees, and turned those gleaming golden eyes on me.
"Percival. Did you already have connections in the Security Corps?"
Meeting Ney's group today must have set all sorts of thoughts spinning in her head. Those notoriously infamous Security Corps officers had come looking for an information broker in person, asking for help with an investigation. At a glance, it was not an easy scene to swallow.
"Connections… Calling them clients would be more accurate."
"Still, if things go south, you might be able to get help from them."
"They're not bad people to keep as connections, I'll give you that."
Come to think of it, I had formed quite a few ties since arriving here. An executive of the Cabal lurking in the city's shadows. A young lady of a powerful family serving in the Security Corps. A capable researcher from Lesert Industries. The boss of a criminal organization with plenty of subordinates under him. Even an information broker who personally gathered intel from the underworld. Somewhere along the way, I had started to feel like I was becoming a more solid person than when I first arrived.
"You're something else, Percival."
"In a rough world like this, information makes for a pretty decent means of self-defense."
"Guess they don't call you the Dark Merchant for nothing."
"…"
"I need to work harder if I want to become a true Sword Saint too."
Sword Saint's hand stroked the mechanical scabbard resting on her knees. To become a true Sword Saint, was it? As it happened, I still had something prepared for her sake. She had been sitting idle far too long under the pretext of repairing her broken sword. I grabbed a document envelope lying nearby and held it out to her.
"Take this."
"What's this?"
Sword Saint accepted the envelope and pulled out the papers inside. What she held were the files on Class 2 wanted criminals that I had asked Brian to prepare for me. I had filtered out enemies whose combat styles clashed poorly with hers and selected targets that would not introduce too many variables in a fight.
"Information on the wanted criminals you need to bring in."
"…Wanted criminals?"
"I narrowed it down to Class 2. You should have no trouble handling them alone."
The contract between Sword Saint and me had a time limit. I had no intention of letting a useful combat asset like her lounge around all day. Having her head out during downtime to collect even minor bounties was pure profit. Sword Saint skimmed the personal details of the wanted criminals for a moment, then tilted her head.
"You're telling me to go out and catch wanted criminals?"
"This shouldn't be your first time. Is there a problem?"
"Didn't you just say earlier that you were going after a wanted criminal named Yuglus?"
"There's still plenty of time before the operation. No need to rush something that hasn't even been coordinated with Lesert yet."
The operation had to be carried out inside Lesert Industries itself. This was also the last chance to accurately predict the location where Yuglus would appear. Sword Saint seemed disappointed somehow; she let out a sigh and planted the scabbard on the floor.
"I see. It's a little different from what I imagined."
"What did you think we'd be doing?"
"The Sword Saint and her companions taking down a notorious criminal?"
"You're a combat asset strong enough to fight on your own. Unless we're going after Class 1 or higher, there's no reason for us to move as a package."
She nodded, accepting my words, and rose from her seat. She strapped the sword she had temporarily set aside back onto her back.
"Got it. So I just need to work, right?"
"Do it well. In the meantime, I'll think about ways to raise the Sword Saint's reputation."
"Really?"
The moment the word "reputation" left my mouth, the corners of her lips lifted on their own. She really was an easy person to understand. The sword and honor—those two words alone were the driving force that moved her. Cheering up a dejected Sword Saint was never difficult.
"Yeah. I swear it on the Dark Merchant's honor."
"All right. I'll work hard too… Ugh, so bright…"
Mid-reply, Sword Saint raised an arm to shield her eyes. An intense radiance had suddenly flared up on her left. When I turned my head toward the source of the light, I saw Blackie wearing a pair of green goggles.
Flash. Flash.
The goggles glowing above its head were unmistakably Sinel's.
"Mmm…"
Sinel was sitting in the corner, hugging Blackie—goggles and all—while snacking on cookies. I had heard the goggles could emit light, but I never expected to see it used like this. I pointed at Blackie in the goggles and asked Sinel,
"…Sinel, what is that?"
"Transforming Blackie."
"Nyaaah—"
"Impressive…"
Blackie waved its paws through the air, light pouring from the goggles covering its eyes. As I watched in silence, some indescribable emotion began to well up in my chest. No matter how many times I thought about it, she really was… a difficult person to understand.
River Scarlet.
He was a technician who ran a weapons shop called Scarlet & Balls in District 8. River was a back-alley veteran who had once worked as a researcher at Lesert Industries. These days he took crude parts circulating on the outside, refined them, and finished them into reasonably convincing weapons for sale. Because they offered decent performance for the price, Scarlet & Balls was always one of the better-performing shops even within District 8.
"Tsk. I really didn't want to come back out this late."
District 8 was one of the places with the worst security even among the outer districts. That broken security was the most reliable ally keeping Scarlet & Balls' sales healthy, but the streets at night never distinguished friend from foe. If not for the solid bodyguard standing behind him with a gun, River would never have stepped outside at such a dark hour.
Click, click.
River shoved a key into the stiff iron door and twisted it hard. The scrape of metal rang out as the lock disengaged.
"Damn noisy."
Back when he worked at Lesert Industries, most facilities used electronic locks. Compared to those days, this method felt thoroughly outdated. Of course, he was making far more money now than he ever had at the company. In truth, you did not even need to go as far as Lesert Industries—plenty of shops in the central districts already used electronic locks. If Scarlet & Balls had not been stuck in District 8, River would have upgraded long ago.
"Lock the door once we're inside. Petty thieves might crawl in."
"Understood."
Thud, thud.
River's footsteps echoed down the silent corridor. Flickering lights on the ceiling lit the path ahead of him. Passing several rooms and heading deeper into the building, River entered a room labeled Research Lab. The bodyguard locked the door behind them and followed him inside.
"Where did I put it? I'm sure it was on the desk."
The reason River had come to Scarlet & Balls on such a dark evening was simple: he urgently needed materials he had left in the lab. Ordinarily he would have dealt with it the next day, but this time the client was the kind of client who made that impossible. River began rifling through the papers on the desk, searching for the documents he needed.
"Want me to help?"
"No need. I can handle it myself."
The sound of pages turning filled the lab. One by one, River flipped through papers until his eyes landed on a file stuck in the document case. He reached out, examined it, and a satisfied smile soon curved his lips. Having found what he needed, he was about to call the bodyguard at once. With the ugly rumors circulating these days, he had no desire to linger in the lab late into the night.
"Ghk…!"
But when he turned his head, what met him was the bodyguard collapsed on the floor, clutching his throat. Blood poured freely from beneath the hand clamped around the man's neck. Startled by the fallen bodyguard, River's hand went to the holster at his waist. He tried to locate the attacker who had to be near the bodyguard.
"W-what the hell…"
Yet the attacker was nowhere to be seen. There was no one who had struck. Only a fallen man existed. In the middle of that impossible situation, just as a flustered River started to turn around—
A hand shot out of the wall and pressed a sharp dagger against River's throat.
"Shh. Do anything stupid and things are going to get real interesting."
A hand reaching through the wall was holding a blade to his own neck. Magic. There was no other explanation. With the knife at his throat, River had no choice but to raise both hands.
"I've been hearing rumors that shops in the outer districts have been getting hit. Looks like the culprit finally came calling."
"If you knew, you shouldn't have been walking around alone."
"…"
"Ah, right—you weren't alone. My bad."
A young man stepped out from beyond the obstructing wall with a smile. A hat sat on his head, and a red bloodstain marked his sleeve. It was not hard to guess who had taken down the bodyguard behind River. Meeting the young man's eyes over the dagger, River asked,
"What's your goal? After my weapons?"
Black Market technicians getting attacked by unknown assailants—River had heard those rumors more than once. He figured the young man in front of him had come for the same reason: to snatch River's equipment. But the young man casually shot that assumption down.
"Up until now, sure. But in your case, it's a little different."
"Different for me?"
"You're an elite who came out of Lesert Industries, aren't you?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I need the architectural blueprints for Lesert Industries' buildings. Any idea how I might get my hands on them?"
The young man's dagger caught the light and flashed sharply.