Chapter 52: The Mole (1)
"So you're saying you had no choice?"
"Yes... yes! We had nowhere to go after being driven out by the Mole... Surely you understand! You know what happens to beggars who lose their territory. We had no choice but to fall under the Mole's faction."
Oliver, who had been observing from behind Kent, asked Red Nose, "What happens when you lose your territory?"
"Y-yeah? So, I mean... you see..."
"Speak freely."
"...Life becomes unbearable. You lose your space to sleep, and either end up under another beggar faction or have to live in truly dangerous, harsh conditions. If you're unlucky enough to get noticed, you might get dragged off to a reformation center."
"A reformation center?"
"There's a place where they send beggars and the poor... If you get sent there, it's over."
Kent continued his questioning. "So, you joined the Mole’s faction and even messed with my people?"
"Yes... Please understand. Whenever we worked, some of our comrades were held hostage, so we couldn't disobey."
"Ha... What were you planning to do with these people?"
"W-well, we... ugh!"
Kent grabbed the throat of the intruder, cutting him off mid-sentence.
His intimidating aura was so overwhelming that even the other intruders trembled in fear. Lowering his voice, Kent asked again, "Don't give me an 'I don't know' answer. Don't try to outthink me either. You've probably heard rumors about me, but I assure you, not everything you've heard is true."
Whether persuaded by Kent’s words or cowed by fear, one of the intruders spoke up, "I can't say for sure, but these days, they're selling them somewhere... But I really don’t know where. Please, believe me."
Kent stared at him sharply, his eyes gleaming with cold intensity.
Everyone cowered in silence as Kent suddenly spoke, "…Let them go."
His unexpected response shocked not only the intruders but also his fellow beggars.
The only one who obeyed without question was Oliver, who began cutting the ropes binding the intruders one by one with a knife.
"…"
The intruders, still in disbelief, slowly rose to their feet, relieved but bewildered by the sudden turn of events.
"Y-you're letting us go?"
"Yes. But I need you to deliver a message to the Mole."
"A message?"
"I don't know what you’re relying on, but if you keep behaving like this, I won’t just sit idly by. Tell him I expect an answer within a week on what he plans to do. Got it?"
"...Y-yes! I understand!"
"Now, all of you, get lost."
The intruders fled, tails between their legs, at Kent's command.
All the beggars under Kent’s faction watched them leave with unease, except for Kent and Oliver.
"…Is this really okay?"
"Yes. When I released them, I planted a ‘Stalker’ and an ‘Eavesdropping Ear’ on them… It should be fine."
"Forgive me for asking, but is there a chance they’ll notice?"
"Well... probably not."
"Probably?"
"Yes, I’ve never used it in this exact way before... But, according to my books, unless they’re a black magician more skilled than I am, they shouldn’t detect it."
"Hmm... Let's hope you're right. Huh? What’s that look for? You don’t agree?"
"Sorry? Oh, no, I do. It’s just… if there’s a better black magician out there, I might be able to learn something from them."
"..."
"...? Is something wrong?"
"No, it’s just strange. I've met a few black magicians in the past, but none of them were like you."
"Really?"
"Yes. I don’t know much about black magicians, but the ones I met... they were more like... opportunists. To put it nicely, they were pragmatic."
"Pragmatic? How so?"
"They were obsessed with money and safety... like most people."
Oliver thought of the black magicians he knew—Joseph, Andrew, Mari, and Peter. They weren’t entirely different from Kent’s description.
"Are most of them like that?"
"Who knows? I’ve heard there are some who don’t care about those things, but I wouldn’t want to meet them... Such black magicians tend to be more dangerous."
"Hmm..."
"I’m not saying you’re one of them, though... Anyway, I could use your help for a bit, if you don’t mind."
"Of course. What do you need?"
"We’re not going to be able to avoid a fight with the Mole’s faction, so we need to gather forces."
"Forces?"
"Yeah, as much as I trust you, I can’t just sit back and rely on only you, can I? To survive in this district, we have to take what’s ours by force."
"Oh... But, do we have any forces to gather?"
"We’ll have to borrow some. Luckily, there’s plenty of dissatisfaction building up among the other beggars around here, thanks to the Mole. We just need to persuade them to join us in the fight."
"Excuse me, but will they really help if we ask?"
"There’s an old fixer’s saying."
"A sufficient amount of money can persuade anyone. But if you add a gun to the equation, it’ll persuade them even better... By the way, are you okay with not being recognized?"
"Uh… probably?"
"Then wear this."
Kent pulled out a crude mask with eyeholes from his coat.
"This is...?"
"Nothing special. Just wear it when you come with me. I need you."
"Alright, I understand."
"Good… Hey! Bring all the money from the communal stash."
...
[So, what’s the point...?]
In a deserted sewer in Landa’s W-District, a man known only by the nickname "Mole," given to him instead of the name his mother gave him, stood.
"So, the point is... the delivery is going to be delayed."
[......]
"Black magician?"
[You're saying the delivery is delayed?]
The Mole sighed in frustration, clearly irritated.
While black magicians were useful, their pretentious manner and tone were unbearable.
"Uh… Yes. I’m sorry."
[Didn’t I tell you to make sure the delivery was on time?]
The overbearing voice on the other end of the communication device grew more intense, causing the Mole to grimace even more.
"Yes... I know. I apologize again. There were... minor complications."
[I’m not interested. What I want are results, not excuses.]
"Once you hear this, you might change your mind a little."
[...Go on.]
"To summarize, intruders broke into the warehouse where the goods were stored and stole them. And one of the intruders seems to be a black magician."
[......]
A long silence came through the communication device.
The Mole smirked slightly. He knew this would unsettle them.
After a pause, the voice returned.
[Are you certain?]
"I didn’t see it myself, but my subordinates did... They were working on something else when they were attacked by a black magician."
[Be specific.]
"Suddenly, something like a bullet flew out and exploded their heads, and a screaming face was summoned... Oh, and they also made something like a weird meatball."
[Hate Bullet, Creepy Scream... I don’t recognize the last one.]
"Wait, you don’t know what it is?"
[...I don’t know everything. It’s probably a unique black magic they developed. Maybe from the creation branch.]
"Damn freaks..."
The Mole muttered under his breath before speaking back into the communicator.
"Is this person dangerous?"
[It doesn’t matter how dangerous they are. Compared to me, they’re nothing.]
"Yes, of course, I don’t doubt you... It’s just that the beggars under me are basically just armed thugs. We might be able to overwhelm them with numbers if they were ordinary beggars, but when it comes to a black magician... we could really use some help."
[Help?]
"Yes, I apologize. Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not trying to bother you. But, you said if we provided the goods you needed, you’d help us in situations like this."
[Watch your mouth, beggar... Who do you think allowed you to build your filthy kingdom?]
"...It was thanks to you, black magician. I’ve never forgotten that. It’s only because of your support that I’ve grown in power. But even you know there’s only so much we can do against a black magician."
[......]
"And once I’ve consolidated control of W-District’s beggars, I’ll be able to deliver the goods regularly, just like you want."
[......]
"And if I deliver the goods regularly, you’ll be able to join the Black Hand—"
[Enough.]
A voice filled with anger cut through the communicator.
The Mole, who had been getting cocky, visibly tensed at the tone.
As much as he resented the black magician, he knew that they could wipe him and his people out at any time. The memory of the zombies he had seen still haunted him.
[You’re speaking out of turn... Remember, the only reason I told you about my grand plans was to ensure our work progressed smoothly. Nothing more. Nothing less. If you want to keep living as the king of your trash heap, keep that in mind.]
"...I’m sorry, black magician."
[Good... In any case, a black magician is interfering... I’m curious as to who has the audacity to get involved. I, the disciple of Puppet, am here, after all. You’ve piqued my interest.]
"So then..."
[I’ll send my disciple.]
"Thank you."
[Just make sure nothing happens before then.]
"Nothing will happen. Kent has gone soft. Letting the prisoners go was proof of that. He’s trying to avoid conflict because of his people. He’s waiting for my response, so until then, there’ll be no problems. And even if he has something up his sleeve, I have the gift you gave me. It’ll be fine."
[...That’s true. Very well, I’ll contact you when necessary.]
"Yes, thank you, black magician."
With that, the line went dead with a sharp click.
The Mole, feeling drained, pushed the communicator aside.
"You did well, boss," said a subordinate who had been standing nearby like a piece of furniture.
"That idiot Henry... I told him if he couldn’t handle it, not to bother. Now look at the mess he’s caused. If he were alive, I’d kill him myself... Is he really dead?"
"Yes... The men who went to the underground warehouse reported that everyone was killed. It seems they were stabbed instantly."
"Damn it... Just when things were starting to go well. How did Kent manage to get a black magician on his side?"
"They say he’s a former fixer. Maybe he used some of his old connections?"
"Hmm... Even so, black magicians don’t just help for free. He claimed he had no money because he was feeding all those useless mouths, but maybe he had some hidden stash? Or is he just copying my methods?"
The Mole fell into deep thought.
It was only natural. No one knew better than he did just how useful a black magician could be, and how little the cost could be.
After all, all he had to do was hand over the beggars littering the streets.
For one beggar to another, it was an easy price to pay.
Occasionally, there were difficult requests for specific types of people, but that could always be resolved with a little extra effort.
Having a black magician backing him, the financial benefits from their deals, and the power he could borrow all made it more than worth it.
"Still... is this really okay? They’re bound to demand more once they help."
"Of course they’ll demand more... But it doesn’t matter. At worst, they’ll just ask for a few more children or women. Paying that price and cleaning up W-District all at once is far better. The goods will come in quickly after that. But..."
"Yes?"
"Why did Kent let them go? His followers, I mean. I get that he’s an idiot, but why did he really release them?"
"You mean the men in the fedoras?"
"Yeah. If it were me, I’d have killed them."
"I don’t know... We searched their bodies just in case, but found nothing. Maybe he really did just let them go because he’s soft?"
"If that’s the case, that would be the best outcome..."
Suddenly, the sound of urgent footsteps echoed through the underground hideout, and the door swung open.
Being underground, the noise was amplified.
"What’s going on?"
"Mole! We’re in big trouble! Kent... Kent and his beggars are attacking with reinforcements from other districts!"