WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 164: This Is Back Alley

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He was a rough-looking man with a scar across his face. Even AB, with her objective judgment, would have thought of criminal activity the moment she saw him.

He rested a keen-edged longsword over his shoulder and did not seem particularly concerned when he saw AB's officer's uniform.

"...An officer?"

Criminals could not even meet an officer's eyes. In both power and authority, they were no match for one.

Yet the fierce-looking man before her showed no sign of fear at the sight of an officer. He even gave her a defiant smile.

"Well, well, Officer. That guy is one of ours. Sorry, but can't you give us a little leeway?"

AB replied stiffly.

"He is already dead."

"Heh heh. I know. We need the corpse more than his life. He was our comrade, so we thought we'd hold his funeral for him."

Snickering followed.

They showed no grief whatsoever before their comrade's body. They merely watched it greedily, as though it were a treasure chest.

"The bastard made things difficult by running off and dying... Hurry up. I want it before it all becomes unusable. Why don't you step aside?"

There was no reason for AB to concern herself with a corpse, but neither was there any reason to accept suspicious people's demands.

AB rejected them outright.

"I refuse."

"Huh? Why?"

"I have no obligation to answer you."

"Well, well. If that's what our officer says."

His tone was openly mocking. There was not a trace of respect for an officer in it.

The man leveled the longsword he had been carrying over his shoulder.

"You're awfully fearless. Even if you're an officer, you're only one person... And captains are common enough to trip over on the street."

One of the subordinates beside him cautiously pointed something out.

"Um, Boss. Captain is a pretty high rank. Major comes right after it."

"Don't interrupt me, you bastard!"

The man barked at the subordinate, then pointed his longsword at AB. He clearly understood what it meant to point a blade at someone, yet he did not seem to care that his target was an officer of the military state.

"And what if she's a captain? Does that make her immune to blades? Or bullets?"

The subordinate cautiously corrected him again.

"Bullets won't work. Captains learn at least bullet-repelling aura first."

"You really can't read the room! Hey, you go first!"

Having been corrected twice, the man angrily pointed his blade at the subordinate beside him. The subordinate who had nearly been stabbed recoiled in fright.

"Y-yes?"

"Bullets might not work, but blades will! Go stab her! And cut that bastard's stomach open before it becomes unusable!"

The man shouted as he wildly swung his sword. The other subordinates nearby began approaching AB as if they had been driven forward.

It was hard to say whether carrying a sheet of paper together made it lighter, but fear and terror certainly became easier to bear when shared. Perhaps encouraged by the companions moving alongside them, the thugs' steps gradually grew firmer.

Sensing their hostility, AB warned them in a low voice.

"Warning. You are currently displaying threatening behavior toward a soldier of the military state. Stop immediately. This is an order. If you disobey..."

AB's clear voice did not threaten them in the slightest. The thugs snorted and grew even more brazen.

"What are you going to do? Take all of us down by yourself?"

"Let's see whether an officer's fancy skin can stop a blade."

AB found herself in a difficult situation. She had never expected them to recognize an officer and still attack.

The military state treated even murder cases involving ordinary citizens quite seriously. If it became known that an officer had been attacked and killed by criminals, it would dispatch the military police at once, without delay or mercy.

The military police had the right to unleash the military state's power upon its own citizens, carrying out somewhat discriminatory attacks against them. Not even outlaws could withstand that.

Yet they were threatening an officer without considering the consequences. Unless they intended to summon the military police...

Could it be?

AB muttered.

"...Could that be their true objective?"

No one answered her murmured question. The thugs walked toward AB, each gripping a sharp weapon tightly.

"Heh heh. I wonder if an officer's blood is the same color as ours..."

There were seven of them. All were armed with blades. Even the gaunt man who seemed to be their leader gave off traces of aura, though not at a particularly high level.

"Warning, difficulty..."

Using a golem would be the logical way to overcome this predicament, but that would reveal she was a communications officer. Only suicide would remain afterward.

Should she fight in close quarters? It would be like throwing an egg at a rock. AB was not combat personnel trained in aura.

Should she kill them and die? Or simply die?

Should she use a golem, defeat them, and kill herself, or fall to their hands as she was?

It was a choice that required long consideration, but the moment of decision drew closer by the second. Under the faint light of the streetlamps, the blades flashed coldly.

Blue steel that would pierce holes in AB's body and spill her red life...

Just as AB made up her mind and clenched her fist.

"You crazy bastards!!"

Thududud.

Dozens of people poured into the street. Without a word, they rushed the thugs who were about to attack AB. Caught by surprise, the thugs were swept away by the crowd.

Screams and chaos, followed by the steady sound of beatings.

Even those wielding blades could not withstand the violence of numbers, especially when every one of their opponents was armed with a long weapon.

"Have you lost your damn minds? First a magician, now an officer. Are you going to stir up every hornet's nest you find? If you want to get stung, tap-dance naked in front of a beehive! Stop poking around everywhere!"

A stout middle-aged man shouted as he beat down a thug at the front. Startled by the sudden assault, the scar-faced man raised his longsword high and charged at him.

"So you're the Market! Smugglers like you don't know your place...!"

The scar-faced man thrust his sword forward with aura wrapped around it. A blade covered in aura, capable of tearing flesh and cutting bone. Even the middle-aged man's stout body would not remain unharmed if it took that blow.

Yet the man retreated with agility that did not suit his build. The blue-glowing tip of the blade passed just before his nose.

"Eek! This rotten bastard's actually swinging a sword!"

The middle-aged man made a great fuss, then pulled out a large iron crowbar with a split end. He caught the man's sword in the gap. The sequence was so smooth that they looked as though they had practiced it together.

Clank. The blade caught between the prongs of the crowbar. Confusion appeared on the scar-faced man's face.

The middle-aged man twisted his hands, and the longsword caught in the crowbar was flung away. Having lost his weapon to leverage, the man received the middle-aged man's crowbar squarely from above.

"You're the one who doesn't know your place! This is our territory, you bastard!"

Crack.

The sound of bone breaking came from the scar-faced man's skull. His face would now bear a crowbar mark in addition to the scar.

No one knew what he thought of that. The reason was simple. He had fainted.

His eyes rolled back, and his gaunt body collapsed onto the ground.

"You little bastard. You scared the hell out of me..."

Breathing heavily, the middle-aged man hurried toward AB. Before she could even raise her guard, he bent at the waist and clasped his hands in a humble plea.

"Oh, Captain. This isn't the will of our whole district. Those bastards are the strange ones. They call themselves the Shadows of the Military State, and they're completely insane. They run wild without a care in the world, and they're making things difficult for us too..."

From AB's point of view, the group that had appeared out of nowhere and subdued the thugs was just as suspicious.

Unlike the thugs who had carried threatening blades, though, most of these people held familiar things like crowbars and fire pokers. They looked as though they could blend right into ordinary life as they were.

Perhaps those harmless-looking tools created a more peaceful impression. AB relaxed her guard slightly and spoke.

"...Question. Who are you people?"

"Ah. I should've introduced myself first!"

The middle-aged man made a fuss and introduced himself, sweat pouring down his face.

"Yes, yes. I'm Krin, the manager of the shared logistics warehouse for the market's merchants."

Markets needed to bring in goods, and they needed warehouses to store those goods safely.

This place, though, was a paradise for petty criminals. A thief could appear at any moment, so a warehouse and a lock alone could not bring peace of mind.

The market's merchants had joined together to store and transport their goods safely. Delivery workers and laborers became involved as well, and the group gradually grew into a faction of its own.

"So, simply put, a merchants' association... No, not even that. We're just people who protect the merchants' goods for them. I'm only a warehouse keeper."

Krin spoke humbly, but AB felt a sense of familiarity at his name.

Krin. Manager. Market.

Hughes had definitely mentioned them when he caught that pickpocket child.

"...Manager Krin? Are you the leader of an organization called the Market?"

Krin shook his head so vigorously that foam gathered at his mouth.

"No, no! Leader, my foot! I'm only the public face! It's a kind of horizontal relationship formed to protect the warehouse goods! Flat like calm water!"

Considering the movements he had shown earlier and the aura he used with his crowbar, he was clearly no ordinary person. Yet Krin kept bowing his head and thoroughly diminishing himself.

He only resented someone who was not there in a tiny voice no one else could hear.

"That magician bastard, what nonsense did he tell an officer...?!"

There was more than one suspicious detail, but AB did not ask further. Knowing aura or possessing unusual physical ability was not a crime.

"Acknowledged. This officer has questions about this incident. Please cooperate."

"Of course! Isn't that the duty of a model citizen?"

Krin stood straight and waited for AB to speak. After sorting through the information for a moment, AB first asked what she was most curious about.

"What are the Shadows of the Military State?"

Krin answered as if he had been waiting for the question.

"They're a criminal organization that suddenly appeared in the military state recently and started running wild."

"A criminal organization? Are they the Resistance?"

"Ah, no. The Resistance at least pretends to seek cooperation from citizens. They are... just lawless thugs."

"How can lawless thugs walk around openly when the military state's laws exist?"

Krin strongly agreed with AB's question.

"Exactly. We've been getting headaches over it too. I don't know if these bastards aren't afraid of the law, but lately they've been causing trouble everywhere. Robbery, looting, arson, even murder. They move around in small groups and commit every kind of crime, so all we can do is suffer for it."

"Have the authorities not taken any action?"

"The military state has been a little busy lately, hasn't it? They already conducted a massive inspection and search operation about three months ago. I suppose its effects haven't died down yet, so they aren't stepping in."

AB suddenly recalled what had happened three months earlier.

Around then, there had been a prison break from Tantalus. The instant AB observed it, she reported it to the homeland. The homeland responded immediately, declaring martial law across the country and conducting sweeping inspections to capture the escapees again.

Yet the Tantalus escapees had vanished as though they had risen into the sky or sunk into the ground. Only unlucky petty criminals had been arrested in large numbers.

"...That is a reasonable explanation."

Perhaps this situation was the consequence of forcing inspections even though public safety had not worsened.

"Still, if things get worse, the people above will step in and set it right! Hahaha! A commoner like me can only trust the people running the country!"

After laughing heartily, Krin lowered his voice and spoke suggestively.

"So, um... when you speak to those above later, please tell them that our people are innocent. If we got dragged in with those idiots, we'd be too upset even to do forced labor."

Krin's servile manner made it look like he was asking for an improper favor. AB instinctively disliked it, but there was nothing problematic about the content itself.

AB nodded.

"Affirmative. In this matter alone, if an opportunity arises, I will report this to my superiors."

"Oh! Thank you, thank you, Captain!"

A satisfied smile filled the manager's face as he bowed politely. Then AB's next words froze that smile stiff.

"Second question."

"Pardon? Second...?"

Krin's eyes trembled slightly, perhaps because he was flustered. AB ignored his reluctance and asked.

"Who exactly is the magician?"

Those who called themselves the Shadows of the Military State were deliberately disrupting public order. Their actions lacked a certain kind of rationality.

That meant a greater conspiracy lay behind them.

AB realized that through a communications officer's instincts.

Then who was the magician hunting them?

"The magician? Ah, that. How should I put it?"

Krin kept watching her reaction, sweat pouring down his face before he finally answered.

"Haha. We just call all the street performers you commonly see in the back alleys magicians. People who run shell games, shuffle cards strangely during card games, put on puppet shows, or surprise people with sleight of hand. People like that."

"Are such people still around?"

"Oh, hardly any. They're called magicians, but they're really con artists or card sharks. How could people like that roam around when the country is functioning properly? Almost all of them are gone. Almost all."

Krin waved his hands, then slightly raised his eyes as he asked. For a moment, his raccoon-like eyes gleamed with cunning.

"But why are you looking for a magician...?"

AB answered honestly.

"The person who collapsed before this officer mentioned someone called a magician."

"...Is that all?"

At the question thrown back at her, AB sharply turned her head.

"You. This is a warning. If you know anything else, testify immediately. If you do not cooperate, I will have no choice but to suspect you as well."

Krin jolted in surprise.

"Oh, no. What have I done?"

"How did you come to be here?"

Returning to his humble posture, Krin looked around as though afraid someone might hear and answered in a quiet voice.

"Actually, I came because the magician called for me too. He said those people had appeared in our district and told us to catch them."

AB nodded and pointed out sharply.

"Magician is a term referring to an individual. Confirmed."

"...Haha."

Krin gave an awkward laugh, seemingly unwilling to say anything further. AB nodded, then looked around.

While the two spoke, the Market's merchants were cleaning up the area. As though they were organizing merchandise, they restrained the fallen men, picked up the dropped items, and erased the traces of the brawl. The street was already clean.

"Leave the cleanup to us. We'll handle it properly."

"Turn them over to the police. They must be punished under military law."

"Of course."

"I will report this to the police responsible for this district. Be warned that you are not permitted to punish them privately."

"...Of course."

AB left them behind and walked away.

The Shadows, the magician, and the military state.

She was a soldier loyal to the military state, and at the same time, a communications officer who would soon have to die.

During the brief reprieve AB had left, eliminating those called the Shadows and uncovering the magician's identity would be the final loyalty she could offer the military state.

And making the military state safer would be a gift for Anna and Hughes.

Starting tomorrow, she would be busy. AB walked steadily down the street.

Once she disappeared beyond the darkness, Krin, who had kept his head bowed, clicked his tongue and straightened up.

"...I've done everything I needed to, Magician. That fucking bastard suddenly shows up and makes me do some pointless job."

A few hours earlier, Krin had met the man who had appeared as if rising from the ground in the middle of the Market.

Had the Market's headquarters not been a secret space in the heart of a massive logistics warehouse, and had knowledge of how to open it not been limited to Krin's close associates, Krin might have greeted him somewhat more warmly.

In other words, Krin did not welcome him at all.

The magician had been calmly reading through the list of smuggled goods secretly hidden by the Market. When Krin returned, he greeted him as though he owned the place.

At that moment, Krin sensed that he would be blackmailed and toyed with in the magician's grasp.

His intuition had proven astonishingly accurate.

"There are some pieces of trash in this district. I've seasoned them a little, so why don't you go clean them up?"

Krin immediately gathered all his forces and set out.

Attack the magician? Krin was not the sort of man to take that gamble. No one knew the magician's true strength, and in the first place, there was no way to beat a magician through gambling.

Besides.

"Crazy bastards should fight crazy bastards. I don't need to get involved."

The Shadows of the Military State were a strange organization whose purpose was unknown. They even showed somewhat self-destructive tendencies.

They would inevitably come into conflict with the magician. Every time the two sides clashed, blood would flow in the back alleys.

Krin did not know who would win, but he knew the outcome of conflicts that had happened in the back alleys before.

Bankrupt Fist, Cutting Steel Sword, Fire Row.

All those who had come into conflict with the magician had met death.

The magician had not killed them, but the magician was always the one who survived.

What would happen this time?

"Ah, whatever. Let them deal with it. I only need to do my job."

As Krin grumbled with his thoughts in a mess, one of his employees pointed to the foam-mouthed corpse.

"Manager! What should we do with the gold-shitting corpse?"

According to the magician, a rare spice nicknamed sprinkled gold dust was inside that stomach. They could make a tidy profit if they sold it.

Krin immediately waved his hand.

"Just bury him. If you touch that stuff, you'll get bad luck stuck to you."

"What a waste."

"Shut up. How do you know whether that's true or not? Even if it is, how are we supposed to sell something that went into someone's stomach and came out? Just think of it as stepping in shit."

"Got it."

Clicking their tongue, the employee put the corpse into a wrapping cloth and muttered.

"Tch. What a lucky life. He won't be short on travel money when he goes to the afterlife."

"After you bury him, write on his tombstone that he was the man with the most expensive cause of death in history. His name might go down in history."

Krin casually said that, then pulled out a cigarette made from mana herb. Its red ember stood out on the street lit only by faint streetlamps.

Whew. Mana-herb smoke rose with a deep sigh. The pale smoke rising beneath the spreading lamplight looked like a dimmed sun and clouds.

Mana herb, the very thing that had led timid Krin into smuggling, soothed his weary heart and gave meaning to his life once again.

As Krin enjoyed his small happiness, another employee spoke to him.

"You're smoking again? It's bad for your health."

"I'm keeping things balanced, bastard. My body is too healthy compared to my mind."

Krin took another long drag of mana herb, then muttered with glazed eyes as he looked over the now much cleaner street.

"We need to keep our heads down for a while. Things are going to get ugly."

The Shadows, the magician, and now an officer. The situation was growing like a snowball.

Krin had survived hardship many times, but even he found it difficult to predict how this would end.

The night deepened as much as Krin's sigh.

Footnotes:

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