# Chapter 48
—
If one were asked who held the greatest power on the continent, everyone would unanimously answer—the Emperor of the Empire.
‘Well, of course. The nation where the sun never set, a rule continued for thousands of years. The one who governs that nation is the Emperor himself.’
And now—
the name of that supreme power was brought up from Sir Willet’s lips.
Arthur, unable to hide his curiosity, posed a question.
“Do you mean it figuratively, or did the Emperor truly issue the order?”
“Both. The Emperor issued the command, high-ranking officials gave another, and the subordinates beneath them relayed it once again. That chain of orders is what led to this mission.”
Arthur tilted his head.
“So did the Emperor say something like, ‘Capture the spies’?”
“In a similar vein. Recently, the core of magitech—the craft of refining magestones—was leaked.”
“…Magestone refining techniques?”
“They say it’s the key technology behind all things powered by magestones. Without it, not only automobiles but even trains wouldn’t move. Until recently, the Empire held exclusive control over it.”
Willet gestured toward the documents he had handed over.
Arthur read through the sections written there.
\[Industrial Spy: Marshal Dust]
\[Charges: Suspected leakage of core technology]
…
Arthur, not only memorizing but also understanding the content, nodded.
‘Ah, so Marshal Dust… this man is accused of stealing a technology worth a fortune. No—an astronomical fortune.’
As he raised his head with that thought, Willet, with a pipe between his lips, continued explaining.
“In this transitional era, the most profitable thing is technology. And Marshal Dust, this fellow, is accused of stealing exactly that.”
Arthur licked his dry lips and asked,
“Hmm… but from the sound of it, this is a huge matter. Why isn’t the Imperial family stepping in directly?”
“Because it’s still just suspicion. The Imperial forces are already stretched thin chasing other, more likely spies. They simply don’t have the resources.”
“So it could turn out he isn’t guilty?”
“That’s why it’s such an attractive commission. Capture him, and you get a thousand gold. But if he truly is the spy who stole the technology and ran, then you’ll have ties with the Imperial family. And there’s an even better part.”
Willet’s eyes gleamed.
“Most of the ones jumping into this mess don’t know that fact.”
“…Don’t know?”
“They don’t know why such a fortune of a thousand gold was placed on the head of a mere industrial spy. That ignorance… is quite the advantage.”
Arthur’s eyes widened.
“Wait… are you saying the details you just told me aren’t publicly shared?”
“Correct. Only a select few—yes, the so-called ‘elite’ offices—know. That’s why I didn’t tell you earlier either.”
“Wow… but then, Sir Willet, how did you find out?”
Willet clicked his tongue.
“You ask about trade secrets as if it’s nothing. Naturally, I can’t tell you.”
Arthur shrugged. After pondering a moment, his eyes lit up.
‘This is turning out far more interesting than I thought…’
At first, he had accepted simply for the money. But if the Imperial family was tied into this, the story changed entirely.
‘My ultimate target is Khan Madrid—the man who will one day ascend as Crown Prince of the Empire. And now this job is connected to the Imperial family…’
How it would help, he wasn’t sure. But conversely, there was no reason it couldn’t.
That thought made Arthur curl his lips into a grin.
‘A job worth investing a day into. Not bad at all.’
After returning the papers, Willet offered,
“If you wish, I can take you as far as District D.”
“Oh, really?”
“It’s part of the service for accepting the commission.”
“Hah, Sir Willet offering service… perhaps tomorrow the sun will rise in the west.”
Willet narrowed his eyes.
“And what, exactly, do you take me for?”
“A kind-hearted but stingy, unyielding old man?”
“……”
“Uh… was that too blunt?”
Willet gave no answer. Instead, he sharply turned his gaze away from Arthur.
Seeing this, Arthur couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
“Sir Willet, you look far too cute when you’re sulking.”
“Shut your mouth.”
Meanwhile, the car gradually slowed. The tidy civilian districts gave way to collapsing shantytowns.
That scenery—so unfit for Arcane—made Arthur realize they had entered District D. He straightened himself.
As he prepared to step out, Willet, who had been silent, spoke again.
“A word of advice from a stingy, unyielding old man.”
Arthur turned his head.
“Don’t draw attention. When crowds gather and things go wrong, the odd ones out are always the first targets. Stay inconspicuous, wait for your chance. That’s… something you’re good at, isn’t it?”
Arthur’s grin stretched.
“Stirring people’s hearts without them realizing. I’ll make good use of that for this mission.”
—
—
Parting with Willet, Arthur entered the abandoned village of District D-42.
The crumbling shacks caught his eye first. In between them sat beggars with lifeless gazes.
“Spare… just a coin…”
They raised tin bowls while pressing their faces to the ground.
Arthur brushed the coins in his pocket, pondering.
‘If I toss one, I’ll have to toss more to the rest as well.’
He could afford to show charity, but couldn’t afford the nuisance.
He passed by the bowls without stopping, walking deeper in.
Soon, instead of beggars, he saw mercenaries armed with weapons.
Guns and swords.
Some even carried halberds on their backs as they strolled.
Watching them, Arthur realized this must be the “rally point” Willet mentioned.
‘First, they said I’d have to undergo an inspection.’
Normally, it would’ve ended with just a permit check by a local official.
But this mission was one where nearly every broker and mercenary in Arcane was involved.
Because of that, a city official was personally present, verifying weapon permits and other paperwork.
‘Quite a scale… even these bureaucrats, usually glued to their seats, are on the move.’
Stroking his chin, Arthur stood in line.
After about ten minutes, his name was called.
“Mercenary ‘Donn,’ of Willet’s office?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Show me your mercenary badge.”
Arthur handed over the badge Willet had given him before coming.
The official inspected it, then asked,
“Three missions completed. D-rank mercenary ‘Donn,’ correct?”
Arthur tilted his head.
“D-rank? I haven’t received a rank evaluation yet.”
“But it says here: three missions completed, D-rank mercenary ‘Donn.’”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
‘So that’s why they issued me a new badge—it already had the rank.’
A mercenary’s rank was, simply put, their reputation.
It was an objective measure of the value of their work, determining how much they were worth being paid.
‘D-rank isn’t considered high compared to the upper tiers… but reaching it after only three missions? That’s rare.’
Normally, every mercenary started at F-rank.
No matter how skilled, carrying out commissions was a different matter altogether.
Yet he had skipped past two levels to land at D-rank—proof that his past jobs carried real weight.
‘Hmm… as expected, Sir Willet’s commissions are worthwhile.’
Arthur smiled at the thought, but the official eyed him suspiciously.
“You sure this is you? You’re not impersonating, are you?”
Arthur quickly answered,
“No, it’s me. I just got confused for a moment.”
Though the tone was odd, the official let it slide.
“Here’s your permit. For your information, impersonating a mercenary badge carries a 20-year sentence.”
“Thank you very much.”
Arthur bowed and left the checkpoint with the documents.
He then stood still, surveying his surroundings.
This place seemed to function as a hub—there were stalls and even a small tavern.
Drunken mercenaries laughed loudly in groups.
Arthur stroked his chin and murmured.
‘This is indeed the starting point… now, what’s next?’
Time was limited to just one day.
Tomorrow, he had promised to meet Elin. That meant within 24 hours, he had to capture Marshal Dust.
‘But this place is far too vast to search on my own…’
District D’s abandoned quarters were the largest area in Arcane.
Because everything discarded in Arcane gathered here.
‘To the east is the waste landfill, to the west the contaminated lake. And to the south, the shantytowns and beggars I just passed.’
Its size rivaled two or three cities combined.
Searching it alone would be impossible.
‘If it were easy to track him solo, someone would’ve caught him already. So what now…?’
Should he bide his time and then join another group?
Arthur was still stroking his chin when—
A voice, both familiar and strange, brushed his ear.
“So you came. Or maybe… coming was the natural thing?”
“…?”
“Been a while, Donn. From your expression, I take it you don’t remember me.”
Arthur blinked, then, belatedly recognizing the man, smiled.
“Titan Battle Gang… Mr. Laborde, isn’t it?”
—
—
The Battle Gang he had crossed paths with during his second mission.
Laborde, the new boss of the Titan Battle Gang, grinned.
“Oh… so you do remember. I didn’t expect that.”
“Of course I remember. Good to see you again.”
Laborde extended his hand, which Arthur took. Laborde then smoothly brought up the matter.
“Seeing you here… I suppose it’s for the wanted man?”
“Seems that way.”
“No companions?”
“Companions?”
“Normally, missions like this are tackled in groups. Don’t tell me you’re alone?”
Arthur hesitated, then answered.
“Yes, for now.”
Laborde stroked his chin, then gestured.
“Got a moment to spare?”
“A moment?”
“There’s something I’d like to say. To be precise—a proposal.”
Arthur’s lips curled.
‘A proposal… in a place like this, it must be about catching the wanted man.’
Could it be that Laborde knew something?
Arthur judged it was possible.
‘Most likely. He wouldn’t seek me out otherwise…’
With that thought, Arthur followed Laborde into a shadowy alley.
And indeed, his guess proved right.
“What would you do if you had information?”
“Information?”
“Yes. If I knew the exact whereabouts of Marshal Dust, what then?”
Arthur feigned astonishment.
“Oh… really? But is it reliable?”
“No guarantees. But the odds are high.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Laborde snapped his fingers.
“B-rank mercenary, ‘Immortal’ Carpe. He’s the one who shared it. One of the few trustworthy men in this business.”
“Hmm… but if that’s the only reason, doesn’t it seem flimsy to rely on?”
“True. If it were only that, it would. But flip the perspective—having even that one reason is enough to justify joining forces.”
Arthur tilted his head, and Laborde explained further.
“There are over fifty offices gathered here, and more than a thousand mercenaries.”
“……”
“And that’s not even counting gangs like ours. In such a situation, countless rumors fly around. Among them, Carpe is someone worth trusting.”
Arthur stroked his chin.
‘So the logic is—if we hesitate, the opportunity slips. Better to act with what info we can get.’
Risky, but not a bad judgment. Provided Carpe could indeed be trusted.
‘Anyway, I can’t do much on my own right now. Might as well.’
If he were to gamble, it was better with someone he had ties with. Especially now, without a destination.
Having decided, Arthur answered,
“All right. I’ll accept, Mr. Laborde.”
“The profits will be shared equally. Out of my portion, I’ll give you five.”
“Oh… isn’t that too generous? You still have many mouths to feed, don’t you?”
“Not anymore. After Boris’s betrayal, several left. Besides, you’re worth it.”
Laborde grinned.
“Donn, with you, we’ve got the best insurance. Even if the other side plays tricks, we can trust you and stand firm.”
Arthur blinked, then let out a laugh.
“My, so there’s another motive. I thought you were just being kind.”
“I was being kind. That’s why I offered an even split and approached you first, wasn’t it?”
Arthur chuckled softly.
‘Hmm… even this is calculated. He’s showing me: “I trust you this much.”’
Just as he had felt before, Laborde’s gang was peculiar.
Much like Boris, who had died by his hand.
‘Let’s hope they remain peculiar in a good way… killing people who left a good impression isn’t pleasant.’
With that thought, Arthur followed as Laborde gestured.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at a clearing where several men were gathered.
The sharp air, the palpable weight of their presence—
it was clear these were not ordinary men.
Arthur’s lips curled at the tension in the air. But then—
One man narrowed his eyes and muttered,
“…What the hell?”
Everyone’s gaze turned toward him.
“That bastard… why is he here?”
—
