WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator/Editor: Ryuu
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INFINITE MAGE

Chapter 146: The ‘Parrot’ (4)

Tess was uneasy about Shirone's quick change of stance. He knew well enough how rationally Shirone viewed the world from their past experiences.

Shirone wasn't someone who adjusted his actions based on his feelings but that didn't mean he was cold-blooded either.

He simply knew how to control his emotions, though it was likely that numerous conflicts were raging within him.

Tess saw Shirone's current state as potentially detrimental to the battle ahead.

"Shirone, don't worry about it. We're not going to fight; we're going to rescue Zis's sister. We'll find out what kind of person Marsha is when we meet her."

Shirone forced a smile, understanding Tess’s concerns, but his resolve only strengthened.

If he found her to be truly evil, he was prepared to forget all his past feelings and bring her down with all his might.

"Don't worry. I won't make any mistakes."

Shirone spurred his horse and swiftly cut through the night air.

***

There was no direct path from the west to the northern hideout due to the indigenous autonomous region in the center.

The kidnappers of Yuna had taken a long detour around Mount Toa to reach their destination, arriving at dawn.

Inside a dilapidated building resembling a warehouse, Falcoa sat on a chair, his pupils half-dilated as he stared blankly ahead, surrounded by spit-out lupf husks.

His men entered, bowed to Falcoa, and threw a sack containing Yuna onto the floor with a thud. Though no screams escaped, the intense trembling from within the sack indicated her sheer terror.

At Falcoa's nod, one of his men drew a knife and sliced the sack open, revealing Yuna, drenched in tears and sweat, trembling in fear.

Yuna's eyes filled with despair as she looked around, realizing she had been brought here overnight. A man with an unhinged look in his dilated pupils stared down at her, while intimidating men at the entrance blocked any escape.

"Pl-please, spare me."

"Leave us," Falcoa ordered his men, who quickly exited, knowing well the consequences of disobeying him.

Left alone with Yuna, Falcoa approached, chewing on Lupe.

"You're much better than I expected. Do you know why you're here?"

"I-I don't know. Please, just let me go home."

"Sorry, but that's not possible. I plan to make you the most miserable person in the world because your brother sold you to me."

Yuna froze in shock, but deep down, she still believed in Zis. How could a brother sell his own sister to such a man?

"That can't be true! My brother cherishes me the most!"

"Is that so? Then why are you here? I gave Zis something incredible in exchange for you."

Falcoa didn't consider his words a lie. After all, sparing her life was worth a fortune, wasn't it? Plus, he had given Zis the luxury of missing Amy.

"That's impossible! My brother wouldn't sell me!"

Yuna screamed, clutching her chest to overcome her fear. The shock of being sold by her brother was more devastating than being kidnapped.

"Let me see my brother! I'll ask him myself!"

"Hey, little lady, you don't seem to grasp the situation. You can't go home. You'll never be able to. You have two choices: die by my hand or take your own life."

"No, that can't be! Aaah!"

Falcoa suddenly grabbed Yuna's wrist with an overpowering grip, pulling her into his embrace.

"Get away from me, you bastard!"

Falcoa savored her frail resistance for a moment before twisting her arm and turning her around, gripping her cheeks threateningly.

"Don't waste your strength too early. You'll have plenty of opportunities to scream."

Just then, the warehouse door opened, and a cold voice filled the room.

"Falcoa. Human trafficking is against the rules."

"Freeman."

Falcoa scowled, displeased. The only man in the Parrot Mercenary Corps ranked above him, Agado Freeman, observed the scene with a subdued gaze.

Standing over 190 centimeters tall in a white long coat, Freeman's appearance was ghostly. His eyebrows were completely shaven, and his lips looked unhealthy.

A master of Schema and skilled in using magic bullets, Freeman was known within the organization to surpass even Lucas in sheer physical prowess.

"What brings you here all of a sudden? Haven't seen hide nor hair of you until now. Run out of money?"

Falcoa's displeasure was evident. Although Freeman had always been the de facto second-in-command since their mercenary days, Falcoa had a unique role within the organization that allowed him freedom.

The conflict between the vice-captain and the action team leader had intensified since their arrival on the island. The downfall into a band of thieves, yet Freeman's insistence on adhering to the old mercenary codes, fueled the discord.

Sustaining the dozens of followers branded as traitors required substantial funds, but Freeman had offered no viable solutions.

For five years, Falcoa had led the organization, driving out the island's influential figures with force and sustaining the group with the profits from lupf trade.

Freeman had turned a blind eye to Falcoa's misdeeds for these reasons.

However, this time, Falcoa had crossed a line. There were certain boundaries that should not be crossed, even in the name of the Parrot.

Freeman, though merely a vice-captain, was adamant about condemning human trafficking and violent plundering.

"You know the organization's rules. Human trafficking tarnishes the Parrot Mercenary Corps' reputation."

"Parrot Mercenary Corps? Since when did we start living in the past, clinging to former glories? Look at us now. Do you think the organization would have survived this long without the money I bring in?"

"You're insane, Falcoa. I'll acknowledge your efforts for the organization, regardless of the methods. But make no mistake. I am the one leading this organization."

"I don't care about that. I don't recognize you. Wasn't that decided from the start? You can't start acting like the boss now."

A chilling intent emanated from Freeman as he watched Falcoa's brazen demeanor. To a weaker creature, such a presence could be lethal.

But Falcoa absorbed that murky energy as if stabbing himself with a knife. It was painful, but he showed no change in expression.

"Ha, how terrifying."

Freeman was at a loss. Pain and anger were merely catalysts that worsened the situation with such an aggressive person.

'Has he become such a wild dog?'

Even without Lupe, Falcoa was always driven by desire. His penchant for combat and killing had made him a good fit for the mercenary corps.

But now, as a bar owner on the island, he was frustrated. Lupe, alcohol, and women weren't enough to quell his innate madness.

"Please, spare me."

As Yuna pleaded, trembling, Freeman turned back to Falcoa and said:

"Do we really need to go this far? Have we abandoned the Parrot's pride as well?"

"Pride? Hey, let me tell you something. The Parrot Mercenary Corps is over. The captain's gone, and the men are at their limits. You might as well give up and join us."

As he spoke, Falcoa boldly buried his face in Yuna's neck, but Freeman remained motionless, now revealing his own readiness for combat.

The moment one of them moved, a fight would inevitably break out, potentially destroying one of the two pillars that had been supporting the Parrot.

A clash between them was unpredictable, but Falcoa was confident Freeman wouldn't dare to act against him.

"Why don't you just leave? I'll tell the men to give you some money. It's time you learned to accept things and have some fun."

"Oh, what a joyous occasion this is."

A woman's voice rang out as the door opened. Falcoa quickly turned his head, but before he could focus, a fist struck his jaw, whipping his head around.

"Ugh!"

A powerful kick then landed in Falcoa's abdomen, sending him crashing to the floor, while Yuna, her legs giving out from shock, collapsed.

"Damn. Talk about bad luck."

Spitting out, Falcoa slowly rose to his feet. His failure to dodge the two blows was due to his unconscious restraint from retaliating.

Clay Marsha, the former leader of the Parrot Mercenary Corps who once commanded hundreds of mercenaries, stood before him.

"The real boss?"

"Is there a fake one? You've really lost it, haven't you, after being let loose for a few years?"

Falcoa didn't show anger. In fact, he didn't even display hostility.

To the members of the mercenary corps, Marsha was such a figure.

As the first leader of the Parrot Mercenary Corps, she had elevated the group to A-class status within a few years, requiring more than just brute force.

And Marsha had achieved that with her exceptional skills. Moreover, her strength was so formidable that she was the only one in the organization to be listed as an A-class criminal.

But Falcoa didn't follow Marsha for such trivial reasons.

He saw her as a "fallen Madonna."

Kind and gentle, Marsha embraced a crowd of humans, most of whom were far from normal.

Those abandoned by their families, born with an innate thirst for blood, or societal outcasts with no other means to express their existence outside the battlefield.

Falcoa was one of them.

When everyone else tried to cure his mental illness or push him out of society, Marsha was the only one who embraced him.

In the Parrot Thieves' Guild, Marsha was both a sister and a mother, a leader who could be trusted and relied upon in any situation.

But even with such a leader, it was infuriating. After years of no contact, she had suddenly appeared, causing havoc.

"Damn it. Where have you been hiding? You're not the leader anymore. In all this time, we..."

"You've become a junkie, haven't you?"

Falcoa's face hardened. His pupils, usually dilated, sharpened for a moment.

He had heard it countless times over five years, but for some reason, it felt like he was hearing it for the first time.

A junkie. Had the one known as the battlefield demon really become a junkie?

Freeman approached and bowed to Marsha.

"It's been a long time, Captain. When did you return?"

"I came as soon as I heard Lucas was taken down. He's bound to have blown up his hideout by now. Looks like we'll need to clean up here soon."

After explaining to Freeman, Marsha approached Falcoa, who instinctively averted his gaze as she drew near.

"Falcoa, I'm sure I told you. Human trafficking is not allowed."

Falcoa's brow furrowed. Upon reflection, he realized he had nothing to be ashamed of. All the blame lay with Marsha, who had abandoned the organization.

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