Ch.395Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

Camilla gulped down a dry swallow. Her slender nape bobbed once as her palm wiped across her damp skin.

A cool breeze stole away her cold sweat, while her fluttering hood obstructed her vision. As she awkwardly adjusted the piece of cloth, Frederick, who had been counting bundles of money in the living room, spoke to her.

“Nervous?”

“A little…?”

Camilla let her words trail off ambiguously.

The place she was headed to was the black market. While black markets were common in Africa and the Middle East, and she had seen them in passing a few times, this would be her first time actually entering one.

“No need to be nervous.”

Frederick said.

“People often misunderstand because of the word ‘black market,’ but it’s not as dangerous as you might imagine. Brokers and dealers make their living through trade, so customer trust is important to them.”

“Sounds like you’ve been there often. The black market.”

“Many times.”

Thud. Another bundle of cash was placed on top of the mountain of money.

Frederick neatly packed the cash into a bag. Camilla wondered what he needed so much money for, but she didn’t question the purpose of the funds.

It was a time when the cool desert night air tickled their skin.

-Knock. Knock.

A neat knocking sound came from the front door. Just as Camilla hastily opened her palm to conjure flames, Frederick stopped her.

“Relax. It’s someone coming to pick us up.”

“Pick us up?”

“An employee sent by the broker.”

Broker? When did he contact them? A puzzled gaze fell on Frederick.

Meanwhile, he checked the visitor’s identity through the peephole next to the entrance, then grabbed his sunglasses and money bag.

Then, as if he had anticipated this, he spoke.

“Didn’t you leave a tip at the café earlier?”

The door opened.

The man standing at the entrance was someone Camilla knew. He was an employee from the shop they had visited just before returning to their lodging.

The employee, who looked exactly like an Arab, bowed his head slightly in greeting.

“Good evening. Shall we go?”

He extended his hand, politely gesturing toward the corridor.

“Mr. Victor is waiting for you.”

Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

Despite its name, a black market isn’t a real market.

That is to say, it’s not like the traditional markets or bazaars often depicted in novels that open at specific places and times.

The term “black market” refers to any market where illegal transactions occur outside government control, and therefore it rarely has a fixed location. Having a permanent base makes it easier to get caught in government crackdowns.

Of course, not all black markets are formless. In neighborhoods with terrible security, you can find merchants openly selling rifles and ammunition laid out on the market floor.

But today, we weren’t looking for such small fry.

“……”

The contact guided us through the capital’s streets.

We passed through main roads and alleys, went underground and back up into buildings, repeatedly. After dizzily circling around the capital, we arrived at a three-story building in the central district.

It was a building with impressive Arabic-style carpets and interior design.

Armed guards secured the entrance, and women in what appeared to be offices were examining counterfeit bills when a large broker burst through the door into the living room, waving his hand in friendly greeting.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Frederick!”

The broker was an orc. Green skin, massive muscular body, and protruding tusks—the unmistakable symbols of a green skin.

I was sipping the tea I’d been served when I smirked at the sudden appearance of the orc.

“What’s that, Victor? Where did you pick up that strange greeting?”

Jamer-Victor. Former Kiyen Imperial Army officer and current weapons broker.

The orc flashed a grin, revealing his tusks.

“I heard it’s a common greeting in a place called Earth. How does it suit me?”

His ridiculous answer made me burst out laughing. It’s evening, so why “bonjour”?

Though we’d known each other for well over five years, I still couldn’t get used to Victor’s jokes. Still, since he had greeted me, it was only proper to return it, so I spread my arms and embraced him tightly.

It was a customary greeting among orcs.

“Good to see you, Victor.”

“Good to see you too, Freddie.”

Victor expressed his delight by patting my back a couple of times with his pot-lid-sized palm.

“I was surprised when I got Ms. Ranieri’s call. I didn’t expect to see you in my grandfather’s homeland.”

“So that makes you even happier?”

“Of course!”

His ancestors were nomads from the great plains where the Paraanga Mountains are located. Though Victor was born in the Kiyen Empire, even while receiving imperial stipends, he never forgot that his roots were in the Moritani continent.

Perhaps that’s why Victor seemed quite pleased.

After our warm greeting, he smiled broadly and began to speak.

“Well, we can catch up properly another time… Why are you here?”

“Why else? For work.”

I replied as if it were a bother.

“I’ve come to catch someone who fled to the Moritani continent.”

“Hmm. I’ve heard the news. They say the Hero has come here?”

Victor nodded as if he understood. I realized something important here.

The fact that I was looking for Camilla was known only to a select few. Apart from my superiors at the Military Intelligence Bureau who gave me the order and my informant Francesca, no one knew I was searching for Camilla.

Yet Victor already knew that Camilla had fled to the Moritani continent.

I had told him through Francesca that I would explain the details when we met, so Victor shouldn’t have known why I was visiting the Moritani continent. And by extension, Camilla’s whereabouts.

But he was already aware that Camilla was here.

This meant other intelligence agencies were also looking for Camilla.

“……”

I discreetly glanced to the side.

There stood Camilla, her face covered with a hood, looking at Victor with curiosity.

“Wow. An orc…”

“……”

Seeing her, Victor lowered his voice and asked.

“Who is that woman?”

“…Just someone.”

He seemed curious about Camilla’s identity, but since she was with me, he didn’t press for details.

Moving a bit away from Camilla, Victor shared some high-level information with me.

“The Empire is also focusing on locating the Hero. I’m not sure about the Imperial Guard, but the military has sent people.”

“You mean the Reconnaissance Command dispatched intelligence officers?”

Victor nodded gravely.

“That’s right.”

“Is this really a matter that requires intelligence units? The Imperial Guard could handle it.”

“I don’t know the exact details, but the Defense Ministry made the first move. The Grand Duke leaked to the Crown Prince that the Hero had disappeared.”

“Hmm…”

Hearing that intelligence unit officers were combing the Moritani continent looking for Camilla, I fell into contemplation.

“I’ll need to be careful.”

“Take care, friend. There aren’t many clients who pay as generously as you do. Ha ha!”

Victor slapped my shoulder heartily and let out a booming laugh.

As a dull pain traveled across my shoulder, I chuckled awkwardly and poked his belly.

“You bastard, still as strong as ever. Anyway, thanks for the information. Shall we get started now?”

“Let’s do that.”

I handed him the money bag. After unlocking it and checking the amount, Victor nodded with satisfaction.

“I’ve confirmed the money. It seems quite a lot for merchandise, which is suspicious, but…”

The broker grinned, showing his tusks.

“Follow me, friend. I’ve prepared everything you’re looking for.”

*

“…Alright. Take a look around.”

Victor turned on the basement lights and spoke proudly.

Beneath the ordinary three-story building in a residential area was an enormous cache of firearms.

“Are all these rifles supplied by the Empire’s Defense Ministry?”

“Some are from the Empire, some from other countries. Some were acquired locally, so feel free to browse.”

I took out the displayed firearms and examined them slowly.

Befitting a region in civil war, the weapons in Victor’s arsenal were a complete mishmash. There were “genuine” products manufactured by the Kiyen Imperial Armory, alongside “counterfeits” illegally produced in tribal forges.

Victor explained.

“As you know, there are many fake firearms disguised as genuine ones here. Counterfeits with hand-engraved markings. But all the items I handle are genuine.”

“What’s this?”

While browsing the firearms, I picked up a pistol. It looked exactly like an imperial military standard pistol, but upon closer inspection, there were differences in the details.

Victor didn’t even look at the pistol properly. After giving it a cursory glance from a few steps away, he answered briefly.

“Ah, that’s a friend from the East. The Northeastern Alliance. They copied the imperial military’s firearms.”

“Did they pay the license fee?”

“Would those yellow monkey bastards pay?”

So it’s an illegal copy.

Though illegally produced, it was in fairly good condition. The Moritani continent is a region where imperial military firearms occasionally circulate, so I liked that compatible ammunition and parts would be easy to obtain.

But what I liked most was something else.

The firearms produced by the Northeastern Alliance had no lot numbers. Not because someone had erased them, but because they weren’t stamped with numbers during production.

“This will do.”

I gathered as many firearms without lot numbers as possible. If there were any issues with a gun, I could disassemble others for parts to reassemble it.

After collecting plenty of guns and ammunition, Victor naturally showed me other items. Body armor, knives, grenades, even combat rations and night vision equipment. It was a lineup befitting a broker supported by foreign militaries.

“Here, take it all!”

Victor willingly offered premium products. And at prices much lower than the black market rate.

They were so cheap that I wondered if he was making any profit. Considering the saying “you get what you pay for,” I was suspicious that he might be clearing defective stock.

When I mentioned this, he actually got upset.

“Hey. Do I look like someone who sells such things? I’m giving you a discount, and you’re being suspicious? That hurts.”

“It’s suspicious precisely because a miser like you is suddenly selling things cheaply.”

“Fuck. Thanks to you, I’ve started new business in the north, and things have gone well with the connections you introduced me to, so I’m returning the favor. If you don’t trust me, pay the full price and take it.”

For reference, applying the black market rate would mean paying more than three times the amount.

Even as I gathered the items, I couldn’t hide my suspicion and continued questioning.

“Is that all?”

“Well, I’m giving you a discount partly out of gratitude, but…”

Victor suddenly looked around and lowered his voice.

“There’s something I really want to ask.”

“What is it?”

“The woman you brought today. Who exactly is she?”

His thick finger pointed at the ceiling. Right above the basement was the living room where we had been sitting until just now.

And Camilla was there.

Lowering his voice, Victor began asking questions with transparent intentions.

“So, who is she? A colleague? You’re not seeing another woman while you have Ms. Ranieri, are you?”

“Shut up.”

Thanks to using my connection, I was able to purchase the necessary items for the operation at a discount.

With our hands full of goods, we left the basement and returned to the living room.

“Anyway, Freddie. Have you found everything you need?”

“Yes.”

I answered while drinking the tea Victor had personally poured. The traditional tea with its rich aroma was excellent.

Camilla had left to give us privacy to talk.

Victor sat in the seat of honor. And sitting comfortably, he placed his arm on the money bag.

“Well, that concludes the customer service part. Now, let’s talk business.”

“……”

“What information do you need today?”

His thick green hand tapped the money bag.

He had said the amount seemed high for merchandise. True to his money-loving nature, he had guessed from the amount that I had come for information.

“I need information about a person.”

“Personal data? Hmm…”

Victor crossed his arms and hummed.

“I’m sorry, but if it’s about the Hero, I don’t know anything either. If I did, I would have told you already.”

“No. Not Camilla.”

“Who then? Give me a name.”

I lit a cigarette and took a drag.

“Sheikh Nasir Al Hassan.”

When the name came out along with the grayish smoke, Victor’s eyebrows twitched.

“…That warlord?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you need information on someone with a bounty on his head?”

“Why do you think?”

It meant I needed the information for intelligence agency work. And also implied that he shouldn’t be too curious.

Thankfully, Victor didn’t probe into the specific situation.

“I have a feeling about what this is about. It’s because of the three-way split among the warlords, isn’t it?”

As he said, the warlords here are divided into three main factions.

Self-sufficient or Moritani-centric warlords, those friendly to the Second World, and those friendly to the First World. It’s a kind of political alignment.

Sheikh Nasir Al Hassan’s faction belonged to the latter. Moderately friendly with democratic nations and in conflict with other warlords. Of course, everyone present knew that “conflict” meant armed confrontation.

“Hmm…”

Victor pondered with a rather serious expression.

This was understandable since the Kiyen Empire’s Defense Ministry was supporting pro-dictatorship warlords.

In other words, they were essentially Victor’s source of income.

“Freddie. I don’t know exactly what business you have that makes you want to poke around there, but if Hassan’s faction grows stronger, it will cause problems for my business.”

“So?”

“Let me ask for one favor.”

Victor said.

“When I ask for help, just help me once. Just once, without asking why.”

“……”

“Can you promise that?”

Looking at Victor’s silent, steady gaze, I nodded heavily.

“…Alright. I promise.”

“Thank you, friend.”

Victor drained his tea in one gulp and set the cup down with a clatter.

“Good. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

*

After the information exchange.

By the time we left the building, a bright moon was illuminating the desert. I quietly called out to Camilla, who was sitting in the yard.

“What are you doing?”

“…Hup!”

The sound of a startled intake of breath was heard briefly.

Startled, she flinched, then hastily hid whatever she was holding, rustling a paper bag.

“Are you already finished…?”

Her behavior was somewhat suspicious.

I narrowed my eyes and looked her over.

“…What did you eat while I was gone?”

“N-nothing! I didn’t eat anything!?”

She hurriedly denied it, but her body was permeated with the strong scent of spices.

Recognizing the familiar pungent smell, I patted her back firmly. Camilla’s pitiful wailing voice cut through the desert night air.

“Good grief… You rascal… Eating whatever you find without knowing what’s in the food. It’s maddening.”

“Hiiing…”

“We have work to do, so stop eating and follow me. We need to move at dawn tomorrow, so we should sleep early.”

Raising her blue eyes, brimming with tears, Camilla asked.

“Looks like you got the information you wanted. By the way, what’s this work you mentioned…?”

“We have mountains of work ahead of us. There’s a lot to prepare if we want to meet a warlord leader.”

So we needed to move quickly starting tomorrow.

But,

“Before that, there’s something you need to do.”

“Me…?”

Camilla’s tearful face brightened.

“I’ll do it!”

“Without even hearing what it is?”

“Well, you wouldn’t ask me to do anything dangerous, right?”

“You’ll regret it…”

“Don’t worry, just leave it to me!”

*

A little while later.

“Kyaaaah!”

Camilla, who had gone to the bathroom to check herself in the mirror, rushed out with tiger-like ferocity and grabbed me by the collar.

“W-what is this?”

“What?”

“My hair! What have you done to my hair?!”

Camilla shouted, holding up her chopped-off hair.

The hair had been cut so atrociously that “butchered” would be an appropriate description.

Holding the scissors, I scratched the back of my head awkwardly and smiled sheepishly.

“Well… I tried to cut it nicely, but I’m not very skilled…”

“……”

“It’s the scissors’ fault. The scissors.”

“…And you call that an explanation?”

“I’ll buy clippers. Camilla, you have a pretty head shape, so even if we shave it all off, it would actually look quite—urk!”

“Y-you bastard…!”

With her hair butchered, Camilla pushed me into a corner and pummeled me.

That dawn.

I discovered that Camilla had a talent for physical combat.