“Plenty of people tangled up in this mess.”
I clicked my tongue as I skimmed through the ledger.
I hadn't even gotten halfway through, but already over a hundred names had appeared.
Only about ten were those selling slaves—the rest were all buyers.
I didn’t know why they had recorded it so meticulously, but thanks to that, I could grasp the whole ledger at a glance.
‘As expected, most of them ended up in the Dix Autonomous District.’
Some were sold for relatively mundane purposes—farming, manual labor, service work, private tutors, secretaries—but many had been sold for more “special” uses.
The latter especially had a high proportion of Demon Tribe individuals.
I could only guess what those special purposes were. If they were lucky, they’d be used for entertainment. If not...
Just remembering the description of the Dix Autonomous District in the original made me lose my appetite.
It was a scene so brutal that even just reading it earned the novel a torrent of criticism.
As if to chase away the unpleasant feeling, a sharp bell rang out from the direction of the mine.
“Looks like it’s started.”
There was no way I’d miss a show this good.
I lightly climbed the hill, and the area in front of the mine came into full view.
With the alarm bell ringing loudly, a big fight had broken out at the entrance of the mine.
I scanned the battlefield, but I couldn’t see Til.
Since I’d told her only to intervene when Karl or Noah were in danger, it meant neither of them was in trouble yet.
At the front lines of the battle were the Demon Tribe.
From giants to dwarves, their sizes and races varied, but they ferociously pushed back the smugglers.
But being outnumbered was inevitable.
They might not have noticed while bleeding and fighting, but from my distant perspective, the smugglers held the advantage.
‘He has to overcome at least this much to be the protagonist.’
With Park Noah’s combat ability, he could more than overcome a slightly unfavorable fight.
Just as I’d thought, the situation began to shift as Diavol Li with black hair stepped forward.
Weapons Noah had tampered with broke feebly, and those he had touched collapsed.
His unique ability, completely different from conventional magic—mana infusion and mana extraction.
It seemed he’d become quite proficient at using it in battle.
If the smugglers retreated at this rate, the outcome would be almost identical to the original.
Though I had called in Cesare, so the smugglers’ strength might be higher than expected… but Noah should still be able to handle it.
The ones who had spread out to watch for Cesare’s subordinates were now gathering again toward the mine.
A rough count showed that their numbers were nearly equal to those already fighting in the mine.
“Well, no helping it. I guess I’ll lend a hand.”
No need to block everyone heading to the mine.
If I just blocked the ones closest to this hill, the reinforcements would be cut by more than half.
I roughly memorized where each group was and slid down the slope.
The snowfall was growing heavier.
Normally, you wouldn’t be able to see an inch ahead, but it didn’t matter to me.
With Valheit’s senses, finding the clump of people rushing in was easy.
On the other hand, the enemy wouldn’t even realize someone was approaching until I struck.
The hunt had begun.
***
The fight didn’t end until it was nearly evening.
Exhausted, Noah sat leaning against the wagon.
“You did well.”
Karl handed him a canteen with a gruff expression.
Noah took a sip with trembling arms and grimaced.
“This really water?”
“No. It’s booze. Found over a hundred barrels in the mine.”
“Borgia Liquor Guild, huh. I guess they really were selling liquor.”
“Likely just a cover. We use the same trick when dealing with humans.”
“Puh—so, find anything besides the alcohol?”
At Noah’s question, after he drained the canteen in a flash, Karl shook his head.
As expected, nothing came out that easily.
“We found some petty documents, but not the ledger. We even searched the so-called chief’s office, but barely found anything.”
“What about the chief himself?”
“There was some blood splattered in the office, but that’s it. None of the smugglers saw him. Whether he took the ledger or someone else snuck it out, the ledger isn’t here.”
Karl let out a sigh, clearly frustrated.
Looking at the people rescued from the mine, I could understand his desire to save more of the Demon Tribe.
“So, what’s going to happen to them—the humans, I mean?”
“They’re going to the Novosibir Border Guard. Let’s hope they don’t report us as traffickers.”
We’d convinced Karl, who originally only wanted to save the Demon Tribe, to rescue the humans too—but their response had been cold.
Once again, Noah realized just how deep the rift was between the Demon Tribe and humans.
“Anything else?”
“Well… I’m not sure.”
Karl lowered his voice.
“They say they found unconscious smugglers all over the area. Fully armed guys who were taken out without even a struggle.”
“Someone helped out?”
“Maybe. Or maybe there was infighting.”
Karl answered with an uncertain expression.
Come to think of it, he’d mentioned the smugglers were strangely under-supported.
I thought of Falsh with his unpleasant smirk but quickly shook my head.
That narrow-eyed bastard probably wasn’t the type to play both sides.
“The ledger’s a shame, but we need to get back to the Demon Tribe zone. If we linger too long, we might get pursued. Can you stand?”
“Roughly.”
Using the alcohol’s power, Noah staggered to his feet.
‘If we had that ledger, we could’ve saved even more people. Who took it…?’
***
Cesare held a cigarette between his lips and flipped through the ledger.
With each page he turned, his face twisted.
Behind him, his subordinates stood stiffly, tense from watching their boss on the verge of exploding.
I felt the same.
That’s how grim Cesare’s expression was.
“Recognize any names?”
“Plenty. Some barons, a few merchant guild heads, too.”
“Seems the roots go deeper than expected. You didn’t catch any of the ringleaders before?”
“…We roughed up a few, but couldn’t piece together the full picture.”
Well, it was the first time I’d seen the complete list too.
In the original, the ledger’s whereabouts went unknown, and even when it resurfaced, only one or two key figures were detailed.
“I’ll hang every one of these bastards along Lanare Street…”
“Now, now, let’s calm down. I understand how you feel, but this isn’t going to be easy.”
“Haa…”
Veins bulged on Cesare’s forehead as he exhaled slowly.
Even so, his hand remained clenched tightly.
If I let Cesare rampage according to his temper, he’d die soon.
I needed to calm him down as much as possible.
“How many Barons are involved?”
“Twenty names in the ledger alone.”
No wonder he was pissed.
Twenty was no small number.
The Northern Federation was a loose union of self-styled nobles.
They were called nobles, but few were legitimate. Most had seized their positions through power or wealth—basically criminals.
The more influential among them called themselves Barons and formed the Baron Council.
Its number was fixed at a hundred, but due to the frequent rise and fall of members, the actual number often fluctuated.
Shoddy though it was, the existence of that council was the only reason the Federation was treated as a state at all.
Cesare, despite practically controlling the underworld, didn’t claim any such ridiculous title.
It was a show of confidence that everyone was under him even without a fancy title—and in truth, none of the Barons dared to openly oppose him.
So for Cesare, twenty Barons being involved in trafficking was akin to having twenty traitors.
“I get that you want to wipe them all out at once, but you’ll face serious backlash.”
In the original, the reason Cesare was the first of the Eight Council to die was because he tried to eliminate them all in one swoop.
The panicked Barons banded together, and while that wasn’t a major issue in itself, it left Cesare unable to respond properly to the Demon King’s party targeting him.
The other Eight Council members didn’t react much to Cesare’s death, but his absence disrupted the Federation’s supply chain, leading to various problems.
To sum it up, Cesare’s death created a significant rift in the Eight Council.
‘Not to mention, it also badly affected Valheit’s survival.’
And when Valheit stepped in to manage the reduced resources, it caused greater discord among the Eight Council, ultimately bringing him closer to death.
‘Therefore, Cesare must survive for now.’
If he dies later due to something else, fine—but not now.
His support was essential for replacing the Emperor.
“The Barons are fish caught in a net. They can’t easily abandon their Federation status and flee. We can deal with them later.”
“You mean we should forgive them?”
“Of course not. I’m saying we should start by targeting the buyers. Until then, we postpone punishing the Barons.”
If Cesare rushed to kill them all, they’d band together.
But if he promised to spare those who gave up intel first, they’d compete to betray each other.
“So you’re saying the Barons can be handled later.”
“We should smash a few as an example. But the rest must believe that cooperation means survival. That’s the only way to catch the real ones.”
“You mean the Dix people. But the Eslick Empire is backing them…”
“No need to crush them all. Surely not every visitor did business with them directly.”
If Thule was in charge of selling, then someone must have brought the buyers.
In the original, maybe they escaped and stayed hidden due to infighting—but with me here, that won’t happen.
“Any leads?”
“If we shake down the Barons hard enough, we’ll find something. And it’s not like human trafficking is their only operation. You should track where the other smuggled goods went, too.”
I would make sure to catch their tails.
***
“So, you failed to bring the ledger?”
“I have no excuse.”
Thule, arms and wrists wrapped in bandages, bowed deeply.
He couldn’t admit he handed it over himself, or he’d be dead. Claiming he lost it by accident was the only option.
“To think this entire mess happened because you couldn’t deal with a few Demons. How do you plan to take responsibility?”
“They hired a human mage as a mercenary! If it weren’t for him…”
“A mage, huh. How skilled?”
“Er… Just a bit below Lord Lok, sir.”
The man in front of Thule scoffed.
He clearly didn’t like being compared to a mere mercenary.
“Of course, Lord Lok is far more exceptional. I just meant he was tough for me to handle.”
“Well, I suppose someone as untrained as you might think so.”
In pure skill, the human he met at the mine was probably superior—but he kept that to himself.
As befitted a scion of a distinguished family from the Dix District, the arrogant and refined Lok could not accept the existence of a mercenary more skilled than him.
“Well, it might at least make for a bit of fun.”
“Does that mean…?”
“We’ll take care of the Demons ourselves. You contact the Barons and prepare other goods. I won’t accept losses.”
The deal was in a week—where would he get new merchandise?
It was a ridiculous order, but Thule could only lower his head.
As Lok waved his hand as if something stank, Thule quickly exited the room.
Left alone, Lok grinned.
“A mage, huh. This just got more interesting.”
There was a small hiccup, but nothing that would shake the business. He refused to be treated like his useless father or brother.
If there was a problem, he’d just eliminate it—whatever it was.