Chapter 88

Chapter 88: You Truly Are Shameless

The sun had completely dipped toward the west, and night made its entrance.
Leaving behind the group of refugees led by William, Ferda returned to the castle.
Ferda sat on the sofa in the reception room and observed the man in front of him.
Stefan was there.
The haggard look characteristic of a cornered person had been erased to some extent, but his eyes still held an empty gaze.
Ferda looked at him and spoke:
— I have good news.
— Huh? What kind of good news?
Stefan asked with an anxious face.
Ferda slowly conveyed the gathered information to him:
— Stefan, the mercenaries you hired harbored intentions far more malevolent than expected.
They were not third-rate mercenaries, but assassins organized explicitly to cause chaos.
They killed all the merchants and workers at the meeting point.
They looted all the cargo and extracted part of the contents to fake a robbery.
— However, making it look like a robbery carried too much risk.
— Because of the anti-theft magic.
As branch director, Stefan knew it well.
The anti-theft magic placed on valuables.
The moment they were touched, a criminal brand was imprinted on the person; it was the worst situation for assassins.
For it to be a robbery, the valuables had to disappear, but the ironic situation where the valuables do not disappear only reveals the murder more clearly.
— So two damn mercenaries laid the groundwork.
— In what way?
— They must have forced and smashed the lockboxes to take them out.
— Even so, the tracking magic would activate. Why would they do something so stupid…
— Those bastards probably fell into a trap as well. Whether it was because they were not given information or simply because they were greedy by habit, they did it while carrying out the purge anyway.
Stefan accepted those words and nodded slightly.
— Taking out those valuables seems to be the foundation, but the foundation for what?
Ferda immediately brought up another matter.
It was about Frank.
— The foundation to implicate the refugees in the robbery.
Refugees shivering from the early winter cold as they moved.
Since they were mercenaries departing from the Empire, they would have known that refugees were heading to the Far East in search of hope.
They discovered the refugees led by William.
Just as they had planned, they lured the refugees with the promise of food, giving them a breath of hope.
— The refugees had no choice but to move there. Whatever the case, they needed food at that exact moment.
Even if it was a lie, for the starving, it was information worth gambling on, so they mobilized driven by desperation.
The place they arrived at was not a generous distribution center, but a bloody and horrific scene.
— All that was needed was for the refugees to pounce on the already served table.
Ferda snapped his index finger in the direction of the refugee and spoke:
— What would be within their reach? Food, weapons, and valuable golden treasures that they might never see in their entire lives. Things they need right now, things they desire, and things they desire but could never obtain even in a lifetime… all placed in one single location.
It was no different from entering a temple of desire.
Stefan could guess how that board game played out.
Thus, through the element of the refugees, the murder turned into a robbery.
Since the refugees carried out most of the looting, it would naturally be thought that the ringleaders were them, and all of them would be slaughtered.
They wouldn’t bother tracking down the troublesome remnants.
They had already been taught an adequate lesson.
However, a strange point was at the core of the story.
The story so far was an attempted murder disguised as a robbery.
Which meant that everything they had attempted before this had failed.
— The refugees didn’t touch those jewels, did they?
— There was a variable.
Ferda nodded.
— No one could have predicted it. No, it was too improbable and far-fetched to include in the predictions. Like being struck by lightning on a clear day.
Ferda placed a knight piece next to the pawn he had been tilting.
— A knight who held onto his convictions was the leader of that group.
William.
The man who could have become a knight knew what duty and decency were.
He saw the gold before him as mere stone, recovered the bodies, and prayed for them.
Although he did touch the goods, he only made the best decisions for survival, within the margin of 1 gold piece.
It is something that can be generously overlooked.
— With that, we were able to definitively confirm that it was a murder.
This was the story of the events understood up to this point.
His narrative led to the next question:
— Then, who exactly commissioned that murder?
— The most likely candidate is this man.
Ferda handed him the Pascal Company personnel documents.
— Among the 12 merchants, he is the only missing person, a man named Frank Fontaine.
— Frank Fontaine.
At that name, Stefan reflexively frowned.
— He doesn’t seem like a very pleasant fellow.
— He worked here for 10 years and always complained about never becoming a branch director, stuck doing coachman work.
— And what is the reason?
— Nothing out of the ordinary. Simply poor performance. He lacked the qualities of a merchant.
Stefan gritted his teeth looking at that face.
— He acted like a stubborn old boss on several occasions, so we clashed here and there. I thought about firing him since things weren’t working out, but I stopped myself.
— Why?
— He had five children under his care.
— You are soft.
— True.
Creak
The personnel record crumpled.
— Did this bastard… commission the murder of 11 of my merchants…?
A little affection.
Did this disaster that killed other families break out because of that soft affection?
— That is not the case.
Ferda shook his head.
— I am sure a man named Frank Fontaine is involved, but he cannot be the mastermind.
— Can you tell me the reason you are so sure?
He thought it might be presumptuous, but Stefan needed something convincing.
— Excluding the refugees’ footprints, 12 pairs of footprints are reported coming and going. That means 32 mercenaries participated in this murder, right?
— That is correct.
— The looted amount is 200 gold pieces at most. If 32 people divide it equally, that is approximately 3 gold pieces and 25 shillings for each.
3 gold pieces and 25 shillings is quite a bit of money.
But for money earned with bloodstained hands, it is little.
— If they were cheap labor, that would be fine, but these bastards are experts at erasing their tracks. Do you know how much they get paid?
— I don’t know.
— A minimum of 50 gold pieces per person to start. Even at a cheap rate, the total exceeds 1,000 gold pieces.
— 1,000… that is money Frank couldn’t gather even if he sold his soul.
Stefan set down Frank’s personnel documents.
— If there is an independent mastermind behind this trying to destabilize me, what kind of damn bastards are they…?
— That is precisely the good news.
Ferda reached into his inner coat pocket.
— We identified the mastermind.
Ferda took something out and placed it on the table.
It was a green scarf.
An object that had been in the hands of a young refugee child.
— This is…
Stefan recognized it immediately.
— It is an item belonging to an employee of Older Brother’s company… but why is it in the Regent’s hands?
— One of the refugee kids said he picked it up after seeing one of the conspirators drop a scarf.
— Don’t tell me the mastermind… that the mastermind…
Stefan could not continue.
But both Ferda and Stefan knew what name would come up in this conversation.
Overwhelmed by the shock, Stefan ended up dropping the cup he was holding.
Clatter—!
It shattered and the contents spilled, but he didn’t care.
And Ferda left that trivial matter alone as well.
Stefan covered his face with both hands.
He didn’t even know what expression he was making right now.
— …Are you sure?
— That is what they say.
Stefan reached out and took the scarf.
His pupils, contracted by shock, carefully examined the embroidery on the scarf.
What caught his gaze was the Pascal family crest.
Behind it, two crossed swords.
He checked it several times, but there was no doubt.
It was not a fake; it belonged to the Pascal Mercenary Company.
— Older Brother’s company…
Stefan, looking down, spoke:
— There is a saying that hiring the Pascal Mercenary Company is like hiring a demon. Do you know what it means?
— I wouldn’t be able to tell you.
— Once you hire them, you can never get out… that sort of thing.
An empty smile formed on Stefan’s face.
Then, it soon became distorted.
It seemed as though the emotions swirling in his head kept bubbling up as expressions one after another.
— They say that once the contract with the Pascal Mercenary Company ends, silent bandits immediately attack the carriages. As if someone deliberately tipped them off.
Stefan’s voice trembled slightly.
— It was strange. The first merchant dispatch after the expiration of the contract always goes wrong. Whether they suffer a robbery, the mercenaries turn into thieves, or they flee… eight out of ten always suffer a disaster, and seven of those eight hire Older Brother again.
— Do you think that’s a setup by Merkat?
— There is a saying that demand creates the need. In the security business, you have to appeal to that need with the other party.
Stefan recalled the friction he had recently had with Merkat.
He had said:
“Let’s see how well you eat and live without me.”
This was a brutally malevolent act that went far beyond mere rumored raids.
They were like family to Stefan.
Superiors and fathers, subordinates and younger brothers, colleagues and friends.
Merkat took them away.
Just because he was upset.
The scarf in Stefan’s hands crumpled.
He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip.
It is painful.
He wants to cry but the tears won’t come; he wants to scream but his throat tightens.
It is a maddening pain, and not knowing what to do with this pain makes it even more suffocating.
It was at that moment.
Ruri entered the room and stood beside Ferda.
— Ferda-nim. A visitor has arrived.
— At this hour of the night?
His eyes drifted toward Stefan, who was clutching his head.
— Yes. It is someone who specifically wishes to see both Stefan-nim and Ferda-nim.
— Me?
— Who is it?
The name that came out of Ruri’s mouth shocked them both.
— He asked me to convey that he is Merkat Pascal.
— A pleasure to meet you, Regent-nim.
Merkat Pascal sat across the reception room and greeted Ferda.
Looking at the two brothers, Ferda thought to himself:
‘Do they really share the same blood?’
Stefan, with his greasy, porcelain-white skin.
Befitting a merchant, he emanated wealth, the kind that would leave an indentation in the shape of a giant peach on a chair.
Merkat, however, had coppery skin and a short, rough regent-style haircut.
A thick neck, broad shoulders, wearing formal attire but with threatening muscular lines that made him feel like a mob boss.
If their hair and eye colors were different, they would definitely be seen as strangers unless introduced directly as brothers.
— Welcome, Merkat-kyung.
— Kyung? I am merely a nobody leading the rabble, a captain of ten men.
Merkat feigned humility with an awkward face.
Far from the entrance of an atrocious villain, he felt affable.
Without a doubt, Ferda could sense it.
This man does not know he has been singled out as a suspect right now.
No, he is acting as though, naturally, he hadn’t imagined they would suspect him.
— That brat of a younger brother of mine is having a very hard time, so I came looking for him and ended up finding the castle. I thank you for this hospitality so late at night.
— Not at all. Seeking out family when times are hard is a good thing.
After finishing the light conversation, Merkat shifted his eyes to look at Stefan.
Stefan’s eyes were cold.
Whether he felt his mood or not, Merkat consoled Stefan:
— Stefan. I heard the news. The merchant entourage from the East was wiped out, wasn’t it?
— …
— Truly regrettable. I know how loyal those fellows were to you, so that void must be immense.
— …
— For now, I had our people notify their families of the sad news. I will prepare the funerals as well. Just compose yourself for now.
His words were those of the best older brother in the world.
But that was only for those who did not know the inside story.
Stefan is neither blind nor deaf.
He was a human being who saw, heard, and thought through everything, so he knew what was hidden behind that brazen face.
— You truly are… a shameless bastard.
— Huh?
Amidst his simmering resentment, Stefan spoke again calmly:
— You sent people to kill everyone, so why are you sitting there acting like a good person?
— …What?
One of Merkat’s eyebrows raised sharply.
The ember in Stefan’s heart blazed with fury.