Bang!
“Eek! Let’s talk this out, talk!”
“This isn’t something to be talked out, is it.”
A red glow surged up Cesare’s arm, and once again, bang—!
If the door had flown off earlier, this time the desk was slammed into the wall.
That thing cost a fortune!
No, money wasn’t the issue right now.
As long as I was alive, I could earn money again, and furniture could be replaced.
I had to survive first.
“Lord Cesare! I was wrong! I’ll never let this happen again!”
“What exactly were you wrong about.”
Cesare looked down at the Baron with a cracking sound coming from his neck.
There were plenty of things he’d done wrong.
Theft, threats, assault, arson, fraud, even murder.
But there was only one reason Cesare would get this angry.
“Th-the… trafficking…”
“And you expect to live after that.”
“Please, just once, please give me one more chance!”
At the pitiful pleading, Cesare lowered his fist.
The tattoo on his glowing red arm returned to black.
“I’ll give you just one chance.”
“Eh? Ah, yes! Thank you!”
Cesare held out a sheet of paper and a quill.
He spoke in a low, firm tone to the Baron, who nervously accepted the writing tools.
“Write down everyone involved and I’ll pretend this never happened.”
‘Jackpot! Heaven hasn’t abandoned me!’
The Baron filled the page in under a minute, listing names in a furious scrawl.
“Your friend, Baron Akula, tried to play innocent to the end and got dealt with. You made the right decision.”
“Friend? No way, not at all! We just met a few times on business!”
He broke out into a cold sweat at the word “dealt with.”
To be dealt with meant being erased from the Federation—business, organization, name, everything.
“Let’s go with that then. I’ll be going.”
“Of course, you should.”
“Oh, this isn’t the end of the investigation.”
“Eh??”
But you said you were leaving. I gave you everything I know.
“It’s nothing much. Just that a few other Barons listed your name, too. Got to check on some things.”
He wasn’t going to kill me… right?
Still, I had to get revenge later on the bastards who ratted me out.
Cesare sensed the obvious hostility and smirked as he left the wrecked room.
“With that, the 20 Barons are handled…”
Looking over the names handed over by the Baron, Cesare drew a line under one.
“Kurt Karabin.”
A businessman from the Dix Autonomous District, whose name kept popping up.
“Contact Count Valheit. Tell him it’s confirmed—Kurt Karabin.”
“Yes, sir.”
The subordinate responded respectfully.
If the Karabin family was behind it, it was out of Cesare’s hands.
Better to leave such a thorny issue to an Imperial noble.
“It’s a choice I never even considered until recently… Why is he helping so much.”
The fact that Valheit had offered his help left a bad taste—but there was no better alternative at the moment.
“Let’s just hope the bill doesn’t come too high.”
***
The Demon Tribe district was far more crowded than usual.
People were searching for their families or kin among those rescued from the wasteland.
Some had tearful reunions, but most returned to the temporary district with disappointment.
To make things worse, the Border Guard, sensing something suspicious, had come to enforce order, making it even more chaotic.
“Since when did you ever care about the Demon district.”
“That’s not the point. What’re we supposed to do when you suddenly swell in numbers like this?”
“Most of them will go home soon. A week at most and it'll be quiet again.”
“And how are we supposed to believe that?”
“Then why’d you ask, huh!”
At Hillia’s outburst, the Border Guard flinched for a moment before straightening up again.
“You ought to be grateful we’ve been lenient so far. Just seeing you crawling around here is enough to make the citizens anxious.”
“When did we ever attack the humans in this city?”
“You lot were stealing on Central Road just last month!”
Hillia had been about to snap back with “When did we ever—” but paused mid-sentence.
Ah right, those goblin bastards raided a shop. Useless scumbags.
“That was those goblin bastards. If you’ve got a problem, go yell at them!”
“Scum like you horned freaks or goblins, what’s the difference!”
“You say that again?”
As their voices rose and they nearly grabbed each other by the collars, someone stepped in and pushed them apart.
Both Hillia and the guards flinched.
A white-haired woman, looking absolutely furious, was glaring at both of them.
“My head hurts. Speak quietly.”
With just that one sentence, the atmosphere flipped.
Awkwardly brushing off his clothes, the guard cleared his throat.
“And who might you be?”
“A mercenary. Call me Til.”
“…The Demon Tribe hired a human mercenary?”
“As long as I get paid, I don’t care who’s hiring.”
The guards glanced at the still-fuming Hillia, then turned their heads back toward Til.
Better to talk to a human than a hot-headed Demon.
“If too many Demon Tribe people gather in one place, it naturally leads to reports. We have no choice but to respond.”
“But no one reported anything when those Federation smugglers came through, huh?”
“Ahem, don’t change the subject.”
Avoiding Til’s murderous stare, the guards turned their heads away.
Til sighed and suddenly grabbed the guard’s wrist.
“!”
The guards watching from behind quickly drew their swords.
Til didn’t flinch. Instead, she pressed a pouch into the hand she grabbed.
“Wh-what’s this?”
“Four days. Things will be settled in four days. Use that for drinks until then.”
The guard rubbed his wrist and peeked into the pouch, his jaw dropping.
His fellow guards sidled over to peek inside and had the exact same reaction.
“Four days. No more than that.”
The guards walked off after giving a stern warning, and Hillia spat on the ground behind them.
“Didn’t even show their noses when traffickers were coming and going.”
After a round of curses, Hillia looked awkwardly at Til.
“…Thanks.”
“No need to thank me. It was Falsh’s money anyway.”
“Still, thanks is thanks.”
“Sure. If you say so.”
Til replied indifferently and glanced toward the mine that had been the scene of chaos just days ago.
Who knew what he was thinking, but Valheit had told Til to stay behind and rest with a big smile on his face.
At first, she thought she was meant to monitor the Demon Tribe.
But in less than a day, she realized these bumpkins didn’t even need watching.
They were noisy and messy, but that was all.
No trace of the schemes and conspiracies Valheit liked so much.
“Um, if you’re not too busy today… wanna go hunting together?”
“…Ha.”
Apparently even the Demon Tribe thought she looked bored—requests to teach swordsmanship, magic, or stories about the Empire just kept piling up.
‘Now that I think about it, almost all of those came from Diavoli.’
Noah, was it?
Valheit seemed interested in him, though I had no idea why.
Just a Demon Tribe kid with some weird talent.
Valheit wouldn’t pay attention to someone for no reason.
There had to be something I was missing.
That Noah guy might even be the reason Valheit had changed.
‘So I might as well stay friendly with him. Not like I have anything better to do.’
“If you’re busy, no need to come.”
“No, I’ve got nothing to do. Let’s go.”
***
Seated in an armchair, I stared holes into the map on the wall.
It’s not like doing this would magically bring me answers, but at least it helped me get familiar.
‘It’s certain they’re operating within the Federation—the question is where.’
There was definitely a middleman moving the goods Thule provided into the Dix Autonomous District.
I even had a name.
Kurt Karabin.
Probably a fake name, but just from that I could learn a lot.
Karabin was a prestigious family.
Not only in the Dix Autonomous District, but even in the Imperial Capital, their name occasionally came up—that’s how the setting went.
But whether a real person named Kurt Karabin existed was unclear.
No way someone doing shady business like this would use their real name.
“Count, I’m coming in.”
“Did you find something?”
Cesare’s subordinate, drenched in sweat, handed over a stack of documents.
“We checked, but our intel doesn’t show anyone named Kurt Karabin.”
Among about thirty people with the surname Karabin, none were named Kurt.
Was someone impersonating the Karabin family?
No, the Karabin name was too famous for that.
Using it to do business in the Dix District would get you caught in no time.
Maybe someone under Karabin’s protection?
But would a family like that allow a mere underling to use their name?
Then maybe it really was someone from the Karabin family.
At least it was a lead worth following.
“Focus your investigation on those estranged from the Karabin main line. Like the son of a second son or something.”
“Yes, sir!”
The next issue was the location.
Since trade was happening by sea, it was likely they were based out of a port—specifically one on the western side.
The problem was that the western side of the Northern Federation had four major trade ports.
Thule’s ledger listed an intermediate stop, but not the final destination.
Maybe they didn’t bother recording it because it was always the same place.
“It all makes sense, though…”
Excluding the northernmost port, where the sea froze over, that left three candidates.
Checking each one would take time and risk exposure.
If we spooked them and they fled, it’d be a nightmare.
And this wasn’t just about missing one bad guy.
Given the demand back home, they’d surely be back.
That would severely disrupt our stable management of the Federation.
‘We’re already struggling with the Demon King’s group—I won’t tolerate chaos on the flanks too.’
But the issue was how to draw them out.
They clearly planned to lay low until the storm passed.
No, wait. Do I even need to find them?
Wouldn’t it be better to make them come to me?
Of course, I’d need bait…
I opened the ledger again.
A deal scheduled in two days.
The buyers were already lined up, so they’d be scrambling not to cancel.
At the very least, they’d be looking for a way to keep it on track.
Maybe I should dig into this one.
***
“The seller showed up, you say?”
“Yes, the quantity is small, but it should be enough to patch things up for now.”
Thule bowed as he handed over the list.
It included vagrants and Demon Tribe from Novosibir, priced quite steeply.
“Their identity’s confirmed?”
“He’s been working in this field for over five years. This is his first time in this kind of business, but…”
“Hmph.”
Lok snorted and tossed the list aside.
He clicked his tongue as he watched Thule struggle to catch the fluttering papers with his broken wrist.
“Isn’t it strange for a savior to suddenly show up at a time like this?”
“I understand what you’re saying, but this is all we have if we want to meet the deadline…”
A blatant trap.
A cheap one, hoping the desperate would make mistakes.
So this Cesare, shadowy figure of the Northern Federation, was just a dumb brute after all.
“The quantity’s tempting, but if we try to eat carelessly, we’ll choke.”
“Shall I cancel it, then?”
Lok shook his head.
“If we know it’s a trap, we can turn it to our advantage. Dig into their background. If they really have the goods, tell them Kurt Karabin is willing to deal.”
He already had a fine plan forming in his head.
Time to slowly cook the fools.