WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Reluctant Imperialist
Chapter 106
──────
How to Reach a Dream
The cartel.
They were a group that sold dreams.
Dreams no ordinary method could ever let you possess or reach, yet a single sip could take you there.
“Fuuuuu...”
Fragrant smoke rose from the cigar between his teeth.
The Empire’s southeast borderlands. More precisely, a lavish mansion tucked deep in downtown Berkina, an eastern nation.
It was the hideout of the massive drug ring [Parmano Cartel].
“Fuck. One damn book is so damn beautiful... Hey. That guy?”
The boss, Costa, asked in a lazy voice. In his hand was the imperial novel 「Baltaras」.
“Yes. We captured him just now.”
A subordinate answered.
Captured sounded funny, but there was no better word when the target used mana.
“Dig through his eyeballs or guts, whatever it takes. Find out if there are more spies inside. No way there was only one rat.”
Costa frowned and crushed out his cigar.
That bastard had cost them dearly. An entire large plantation had gone up in smoke.
“But, Don Costa. An imperial knight...”
“Hey. You know how much money we lost? If we sold all that stock, it was billions, billions! We practically blew a fucking mountain of cash!”
His neck veins bulged as he spoke. He was still not over it. All the money that had burned because of that bastard...
“Those knight bastards can’t come here anyway.”
This was Berkina territory, and Berkina belonged to the Eastern Alliance.
A zone where even the Empire could not deploy troops recklessly. Some treaty or other, whatever they called it.
Thanks to that, the Parmano Cartel made good money running business between Berkina and the Empire.
“No, they won’t come.”
Costa sneered.
“It’s safer because it’s the Empire. You know how stiff-necked those assholes are. They despise lowlife junkies and won’t even look at them. Meanwhile they’re getting wasted on top-grade stuff every damn day.”
Every top-tier package produced by the cartel went straight to the imperial center, specifically the upper districts.
“Even nobles use our stuff, that’s what I’m saying.”
He lit the cigar again and gestured to his subordinate.
“Hey, never mind that. You know Baltaras?”
“Bal... your feet are burning?”
“Damn, you stupid fuck.”
Costa cackled and waved the copy of Baltaras in his hand.
“What a shame. Born dumb, so you can’t even appreciate the beauty of a novel like this.”
“Sorry, sir.”
To the subordinate who kept bowing, he graciously handed over 「Baltaras」.
“You caught that guy, so I’m giving it to you. Read it when you get time. Get some culture.”
“Ah, yes...”
“Don’t worry, you bastard.”
Costa bit down hard on his cigar and said,
“Do you really think those noble palace lords would make a fuss just to save one washed-up commoner knight kicked out of Sentinel? In this world, a lunatic like that...”
* * *
“I am Knight Maximilian.”
Southeastern Empire, Pellan Province.
A border village there, where imperial land jutted out like a sharp needle from the mainland and met the Eastern Alliance coastline.
“Y-yes, yes! Loyalty! Pellan Provincial Police, Sergeant Lopez of Lurales!”
The dark-skinned sergeant gave a flustered salute.
He was Aran, but the kind who got treated as lower class because of his skin tone.
“Hmm...”
I stood at the coordinates Ashton had transmitted as his last location.
I stayed still and looked around. The scenery was clearly different from the center.
Humid tropical air, exotic architecture. It felt less like imperial territory and more like a small resort city.
In reality, because of its geography, this place was closer to an autonomous zone where local customary law held more weight than imperial law, and where Imperial and Mercagnol, a language used in several eastern states, were mixed together.
“So Ashton, meaning Egilon, was kidnapped in the middle of this village and dragged across the border?”
“Th-that... we questioned residents, but everyone said they saw nothing. It’s so remote that after dark there are barely any people...”
Lopez said, sweating heavily.
I looked past his shoulder.
“...”
Other Lurales officers with rifles on their backs were gathered and smoking. They glanced at me and snickered.
“Hm.”
Everything they were saying was in Mercagnol. After Imperial Aran, it had the second or third most speakers.
Imperial nobles, of course, never bothered learning it. At most they learned Prozen, because Prozen pronunciation was said to sound like elegant art.
-thump
They bothered me.
The way they whispered, thinking I could not understand.
-thump.
And surprisingly, two of those four were Izenheim.
“Follow me for now. There’s somewhere we need to go.”
“Ah, yes. Where to...?”
I moved without answering. The Lurales men followed me, confused.
Past a winding dirt path, to a deserted coastal cliff where the waves could be heard.
Crunch, crunch.
I stopped on the dusty ground and turned to Lopez.
“Sergeant Lopez.”
“Yes.”
In a low voice that almost blended with the surf, I asked,
“Did you sell information to the cartel?”
“...What? Wh-what are you... n-no!”
Lopez’s eyes shook. I gave a quiet nod and drew the longsword from my back.
“You four there. Come here.”
I called the men behind us in Mercagnol. They flinched and looked at each other. They had never expected Mercagnol from an imperial noble, much less a knight.
“Come here.”
As they edged closer, the words they had muttered a moment ago in tiny voices remained vivid in my senses.
“Hey, so that’s an imperial knight. Cuter than I expected.”
“Can a pretty boy like that even swing a sword right? He’ll just strike poses.”
“How old is he? If I get close, maybe I can smell his mommy’s milk. Should I sniff?”
Even if they had not been Izenheim, I had no intention of sparing them.
Maybe my reverse scale was my mother.
“By imperial law, I will carry out your summary execution for the crime of insulting a knight.”
I swung.
Slash!
I took the head of the one who talked about my mother first. The headless body collapsed onto the sand. Blood sprayed and soaked Lopez’s face.
“A-aaaagh!”
While Lopez screamed, my sword moved again. The second man’s arm and leg were severed, the third man’s heart was pierced, and the last man was split clean in two.
Four corpses hit the ground in an instant.
I flicked blood off the blade and turned.
“Sergeant Lopez.”
“Uh, uh, hhh...”
“I despise people who laugh frivolously in front of me, lie, or spit out gutter trash.”
Lopez’s face turned deathly pale. His legs gave out and he dropped to the ground.
“Now, I will ask again.”
I sheathed the sword and repeated myself.
“Did you sell information to the cartel?”
Lopez gasped like he was hyperventilating, then dropped to his knees in panic.
“I-I have a child! I also have a sick old mother...!”
“I did not ask about your family circumstances.”
“I’m sorry! Please, please just spare me!”
He begged with both hands, nearly in tears.
“...Sergeant Lopez.”
I looked down at him and called his name.
“Y-yes...?”
“If you want to live, answer.”
He was not Izenheim, so he was worth sparing.
“What exactly did you sell to the cartel? Just say that.”
“Th-that is...”
Lopez opened his mouth with a trembling voice.
...
“So he leaked Ashton’s personal details and covered up the crime. The cartel told Lurales in advance when Ashton would be abducted, and Lurales did not deploy that day. They did not even file a report.”
It was Sergeant Lopez’s confession.
“I see.”
Yulian answered bitterly. His eyes had gone dark.
“So it is certain he was abducted to Berkina. Do we have any likely location?”
This incident also happened before regression, but I had no memory of exactly where Ashton died. All that remained was a short report saying even the body had never been found.
“There is intelligence that the head of the Parmano Cartel has a base around here.”
Yulian pointed to a spot on the map. Downtown Berkina, a little distance from the imperial border.
“Not far.”
We were talking at the airport now.
The Empire and the Eastern Alliance were currently very open. They smiled with their mouths while hiding knives behind their backs.
Thanks to certain agreements, many imperials and imperial companies did business in the Eastern Alliance, and entry through airports was possible too.
“Take this. Your ID.”
I handed Yulian a forged Berkina identity card.
“Can you speak Mercagnol?”
“...Enough.”
“Say something. I need to gauge how much.”
Yulian cleared his throat, then spoke with awkward pronunciation.
“Dis much, good enough?”
“No. It sounds like all your teeth fell out. Let’s go with the taciturn type.”
“...”
Yulian closed his mouth, looking embarrassed.
“Take this too. Carry it.”
I handed him a heavy duffel bag.
“There’s ten million dollars in it.”
Yulian nodded.
“Then. Let’s go.”
“Yes.”
We stood, passed through the airport gate, and boarded the plane.
“...”
Yulian looked around and raised his brows. The cabin was full.
“More people than usual today.”
“Ah. Everyone here is one of our operation agents.”
“...Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“I had no idea.”
Mercagnol was a fairly common language. Most nobles did not know it, but quite a few eastern commoners could speak it.
So I hired those commoners with compensation no one could refuse.
“I also acquired this airport.”
“...When?”
“Yesterday.”
I bought it yesterday. I had planned from the start to own most major facilities like airports whenever possible.
“...I see.”
Yulian nodded and leaned back in his seat.
He looked a little dumbfounded.
...
Before regression, the Ashton incident was buried.
The Empire knew a knight had died, but because he was a knight without registry affiliation, and because he was a commoner, they simply covered it up.
Probably, that meant the palace bastards had taken cartel bribes too.
So to bring down the cartel, we needed time, money, and above all, people.
From the moment I arrived in Berkina, I spread agents everywhere.
Civilian sectors, military sectors, every corner. Agents bought locals, and those locals bought other locals.
The operation budget was limitless. Berkina was a small economy to begin with.
At that rate, the whole thing would be settled in about two days.
“Knight Yulian. I think we found him.”
And that was exactly what happened.
We pinpointed Ashton’s location.
“Let’s move now.”
We got into a jeep and drove a long way down unpaved roads out of the city.
Before long, we reached a ranch deep in the jungle, far from the usual flashy cartel hideouts.
In the middle stood a building that looked like an abandoned stable.
“There.”
“Go.”
Creak. We parked the jeep at a distance and advanced quietly through the trees.
Security in the area was lax. Just a few rifle-carrying grunts dozing off.
Slash. Stab.
With hand signals, we killed them one by one with precision, but in front of the building stood one guard with unusually sharp senses.
A swordsman.
“I’ll handle outside. You go in.”
I said it as I warmed up my mana. Yulian had enough skill to subdue everything alone, but speed mattered.
The cartel’s combat strength should never be underestimated. They hired the strongest talents from their own countries and others as mercenaries.
If we did not rescue him quickly, men like that would keep pouring in.
“Yes. Understood.”
Yulian burst forward without a sound, and I circled to the back of the building.
Before entering, I sent mana in first.
The quiet resonance of Ebenholtz passed through the wall and swept the interior. No enemies were detected. Only one person’s presence.
Creeeak.
I opened the door.
In the slowly emerging darkness, a man was tied to a chair.
“...”
For a moment, I almost dropped the sword in my hand.
Knight Ashton.
Covered in blood, he sat with his head hanging, breathing hard.
His whole body was wrecked by torture, but his chest still rose and fell faintly.
He was still alive.
But...
I could not understand. For a moment, a fuse in my head blew.
A retired Sentinel knight.
A man who joined nine years ago, then left after a certain incident.
The comrade Yulian had trusted so deeply.
Why was it that from him...
-thump.
...my heart was reacting?
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