Mission (1)
“Still stuck out in the middle of nowhere, huh. Well, the place is bigger, at least.”
Brian muttered as he sat down, bag in hand.
He’d come by the office around lunch for one reason only.
The item I’d ordered from him.
“You bring what I asked for?”
“Of course. Took a little work, but considering the fee…”
The other day, I’d asked Brian to get me a gas mask.
If I simply needed one, I could have bought it myself. The reason I’d had him run the errand was something else entirely.
I needed a gas mask I could acquire discreetly.
Discreetly. Meaning the transaction could not be traced.
I was going to wear it for the same reason the Ghost Army wore their masks.
“I’ll check the contents later.”
“Credit’s all that matters in this business anyway.”
“Consider it a show of trust.”
Brian held out his bag. Judging by the size of the box, it wasn’t anything particularly large.
I took the bag and handed him an envelope of cash.
One thousand credits — the errand fee we’d agreed on.
“Guess I won’t have to worry about food for a while.”
Clink.
Brian counted the money and tucked the envelope into his coat.
Even accounting for the mask’s price, it was a profitable deal for him. His pleasure was only natural.
“I heard you keep your food costs pretty low.”
“Mostly just burgers for me. You, on the other hand — I hear the staff meals run you a fair bit.”
“Something like that.”
My gaze drifted naturally to Sinel.
Whether she’d been eavesdropping or not, Sinel lifted Blackie to cover her face. Her goggles glittered from behind the cat.
“…Should I pretend I didn’t hear that?”
“Do whatever you think is best.”
“She’s a tough one.”
“I’m still not used to her myself. So that tracks.”
Brian had dropped by the office several times already. He had a rough idea of how our company operated. Being an information broker, he was quick with the news anyway.
“By the way, I’ve been hearing some unsettling rumors lately.”
“Are those free?”
Best to be thorough with information merchants. When I pressed him on the fee, Brian grimaced and nodded.
“Well, it’s a pretty well-known rumor in this business. Free’s fine.”
“What kind of rumor?”
“Secondary Beat’s been acting strange. Something noisy might be about to go down.”
“Secondary Beat… possible.”
Secondary Beat.
One of the largest private military companies in the city. Countless mercenaries belonged to it, and their quality was nothing to sneeze at.
If Secondary Beat was mobilizing on a large scale, it wouldn’t be anything ordinary. I had some idea what it might be about, and their movements didn’t sit well with me.
“Does our Dark Merchant have any guesses?”
“Trying to fish information out of me?”
“Don’t be so tight-fisted.”
“I don’t think it’s a story that pays.”
There was a chance the Cabal’s movements had leaked. Of course, given that the opponent was the Cabal, even Secondary Beat would have limits to how much they could suppress them.
Either way, it was better to keep my suspicions to myself. Information on the Cabal wasn’t something to handle carelessly. It wasn’t just me who could end up in danger — Brian could too.
“Boring reaction.”
“The Sword Ghost of Secondary Beat isn’t exactly a fun character either.”
“The Sword Ghost’s always been like that. No one more obsessed with fighting.”
“Either way, I’ve got nothing more to say on this. Getting involved will only give you a headache — better to stay clear.”
Brian shrugged and picked up a cookie from the table. I’d bought them on the Sword Saint’s recommendation. They went remarkably well with coffee.
Crunch. The sound of the cookie breaking filled the office.
“If the Dark Merchant says so, a small-time operator like me should just keep his head down.”
“Brian. Isn’t money your top priority?”
“Money’s nice, but people have curiosity. That’s part of why this work suits me.”
Curiosity has a way of destroying people. This city had no shortage of people who’d vanished that way.
“That hacker you introduced me to before. Gode, was it? He said he wouldn’t live long.”
“Interesting thing to say. Maybe he’s right.”
Brian chewed over the conversation and gave a dry chuckle. Then again, Brian walked a tightrope in the underworld every day. He’d probably made peace with death a long time ago.
Unlike me.
The 7th Special Mobile Unit.
It had been established for a single purpose: to use controllable serious offenders to hunt down other criminals. Each operative was paired with a Warden and sent out to clear the streets.
It sounded fine on paper. In practice, moving criminals without real compensation was impossible. So the Security Corps offered the 7th Special Mobile Unit one condition.
One-tenth of every captured criminal’s sentence would be deducted from their own.
These were serious offenders whose average sentences ran to decades. With the possibility of freedom dangling in front of them, few refused — even knowing they might die carrying it out.
“…Disgusting.”
Code E172. Usher Hayes was one of the operatives assigned to the 7th Special Mobile Unit.
The Human Butcher of District 3.
He’d been a notorious criminal even within the Security Corps, but after joining the unit, the rumors around him had quieted somewhat.
Thud. Thud.
Usher walked forward, frowning down at the man sprawled on the ground. The face of a man who would never open his eyes again was, even to Usher, a familiar one.
“That guy we used to see around sometimes. Code E133, was it?”
A thin female voice. Usher lifted his gaze to empty air.
A translucent girl drifted around him. Usher glanced briefly at the ghost of his younger sister, Riel Hayes, then looked back down at the floor.
“He was diligent enough, in his way.”
“Still a criminal, though.”
“I won’t make excuses for his crimes. But I have no intention of belittling the effort he put in, either.”
The man on the ground had been one of Usher’s fellow operatives. At least until a few hours ago.
A few hours ago, every last year of his sentence had been remitted. He had walked free. Usher had watched with his own eyes as the restraint collar around the man’s neck was released and he stepped out of the Security Corps compound.
“I held out a sliver of hope. Turns out they’re the same as they ever were.”
Discard the hunting dog once the hunt is over. Boil it and eat it. That was simply how things worked.
From the beginning, there had never been any real chance that Usher would be given his freedom. He had chosen this path knowing that.
“Let’s run, Usher.”
“….”
“Wait for an opening and threaten that woman. Get the collar off that way.”
“No need. I’ve already made my peace with it.”
The people of the Security Corps could not be trusted. That conviction had been fixed in Usher’s mind for a long time. The naive young woman who looked after him was something of an exception — but then, it was hard for anyone to look kindly on a criminal in the first place.
Even so, Usher had walked in of his own free will for one reason only.
To avenge the ghost floating before his eyes. Riel Hayes.
“Are you really trying to die?”
Riel pushed her face close to his. Usher walked straight through her, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and set it between his lips.
Ting—. His lighter rang clear, and a flame bloomed.
“Isn’t it better if we’re together?”
“I don’t want you to die, Usher.”
“Hah. Then you come back to life.”
Usher laughed as he said something absurd. Conversations with his only blood relative always went like this — banter back and forth until Usher ended it with a laugh. One of the few habits from the past that still remained, unchanged.
“That’s not why I gave you the magic.”
“You didn’t give it to me. I took it.”
“…Usher.”
“Kill or be killed. What’s left to cling to in a city like that?”
But one thing was different from the past: Riel, his younger sister, no longer smiled. Knowing that, Usher still refused to let her go.
Bound to a ghost built of lies, he walked with his eyes fixed on the past instead of the future — feeling himself become a living ghost in turn.
Hah. A sigh mixed into the cigarette smoke and filled the back alley.