Chapter 6: Steel Assassin(1)

In the end, the animal hospital bills weren’t cheap.
Kkamang was admitted, and I paid Cynel a hefty sum of credits in advance, most of which she used for Kkamang’s treatment.
Thanks to this absurd chain of events, I managed to tie Cynel Cloverbloom to me as a subordinate under the weight of debt.
I’d secured the minimum force needed to protect myself in this harsh, dangerous city.
But was Cynel, now suddenly saddled with debt, unhappy with the situation?
Not at all.
She walked beside me with a satisfied expression.

“It’s a relief Kkamang’s safe.”

“Yeah, looks like the worst was avoided.”

No matter how you sliced it, Kkamang didn’t seem “safe,” but Cynel’s affection for the cat was undeniably genuine.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have spent such a fortune to save a stray.
That made her more trustworthy than the credit-obsessed mercenaries of Cross Network.

“I’m looking forward to bringing her home later. She’ll be happy, right?”

“Have you saved up enough to take care of her?”

“Ah…”

Cynel’s face fell at the mention of money.
Of course.
She was already strapped for cash, and now most of her advance had gone to Kkamang’s bills.
If she still had money left, I’d suspect she’d scammed me.

“Raising a cat’s expensive.”

“No choice, then. If I’m broke, I’ll just live on the streets with Kkamang…”

Was she seriously considering homelessness?
The more I got to know her, the less predictable she became.
Before she could say anything crazier, I steered the conversation to work to shut her up.

“Don’t worry too much. Do a good job, and there’ll be incentives.”

“Really?”

“Do I look like I’m lying?”

It was a fair question.
I’d lost count of the lies I’d spun since arriving here.
Still, Cynel shook her head, dismissing the thought.

“No. The boss is a good person. I’ll work hard.”

“Good attitude.”

“But what kind of work are we doing from now on?”

“Security. Your job is to protect me.”

The world of War City was a brutal, dog-eat-dog place filled with conflict, bloodshed, intrigue, and betrayal.
For an unknown extra like me to survive its chaos, I needed my own power.
And power required money.
With money, I could command the strong; with strength, I could make more money.
Ironically, the safest path was to plunge myself into greater danger.
In short, I needed someone to shield me from the threats lurking in the city’s outskirts.

“Protecting the boss?”

“Exactly. If my life’s in danger, you protect me. If I need force, you fight for me.”

“Got it. Not a bad job.”

Most of the work was just sticking by my side.
From Cynel’s reaction, she seemed fine with the gig.
I opened my phone, pulled up the contacts, and handed it to her.

“Work starts tomorrow. Put in your contact info, and I’ll send you the office location.”

I wasn’t planning to stay in this city for more than a day or two, and I couldn’t keep hopping between hotels forever.
It was time to find a place to settle down.

Finding a decent office wasn’t hard.
A reasonably sized space, cheap rent, tucked away in a quiet corner on the second floor of a building.
I acquired one such office.
With some furniture, it could double as a living space.
Joining Cross Network would’ve been nice, but since I wasn’t fully committing to the information trade, it didn’t matter much.

“The office is bigger than I expected.”

“We’ll need space when more people join. Bigger’s better.”

Click.
I locked the office door with the key, pulling Cynel away from staring through the dusty window.
With Cynel here as planned, it was time to head out and handle the business I’d lined up.
Cynel watched me lock the door and asked,

“Won’t locking it keep customers out?”

“What’s the point of customers if I’m not here?”

“…Fair point.”

“Let’s go. No telling how long this’ll take.”

I wasn’t planning to run a real business anyway.
The “company” was just a front to keep the people I gathered under control.
If needed, it could be a name-only organization, legal or not.
With Cynel in tow, I started walking toward my destination.

“Boss.”

“Got a question?”

“Where are we headed?”

“We’re going to meet an organization called Valiant.”

The outer district was crawling with criminal groups fighting over various interests.
Valiant was one of them.
In the novel, they appeared early on, serving as a plot device to show the kind of battles the protagonist would face.
While staying at the hotel, I’d checked the story’s timeline and made a plan to profit off Valiant.

“Valiant? Never heard of them.”

“They operate in District 11. The boss seems ambitious, but I’m not sure if he’s got the skills to match.”

Valiant didn’t fight the protagonist directly.
They were more like a stepping stone, taken down by a criminal the protagonist’s group would later confront.
At this point in the story, Valiant had just lost an executive to a hitman sent by a rival group.
The killer, known in the underworld as “Ironclad” Dagas Phillip, had enraged Valiant’s boss, Mr. Trillo, who was now hunting for him.
But in the end, Mr. Trillo would also fall to Ironclad, leaving the organization leaderless and crumbling.
My plan was to sell Mr. Trillo the information I knew about Dagas from the novel.

“An information broker, huh…”

“There probably won’t be any fighting, but expect some posturing. Be ready.”

“Got it.”

I said that, but I was just as nervous.
Walking a tightrope with dangerous people wasn’t exactly great for my mental health.
In a city that devours the stagnant, I had to become a fierce tiger to survive the tiger’s den.
After a long walk into District 11, I spotted several men with rifles standing guard in front of a building.
It matched the description of Valiant’s base from the novel.
Confirming this was the place, I approached the guards with Cynel.

“Stop. Who are you?”

One of the guards tightened his grip on his rifle, looking ready to pull the trigger at any wrong move.
I put on my most relaxed demeanor and replied,

“Wandering information broker.”

“What’s your business?”

“Call Mr. Trillo. I’ve got something to discuss.”

“Not just anyone can meet the boss.”

“Tell him I’ve got info on Ironclad.”

The guard hesitated, then nodded and went inside.
Information about the assassin Mr. Trillo was desperately hunting was too big a bait for him to ignore.
The guard returned shortly and gestured to us.

“Hand over any dangerous weapons, and we’ll let you in.”

“Fine. Take what you need.”

“The woman too.”

“Cynel, hand over your weapon.”

It was right after their executive’s assassination—no way they’d let us in armed.
At my instruction, Cynel reluctantly handed her knife to the guard.
The man scanned us with what looked like a detector, then waved to the other guards.

“Go in. The boss is waiting.”

“Alright.”

As the guards stepped aside, Cynel and I entered the building.
Thump, thump.
The interior was rough, utilitarian.
In the center of a large hall, a middle-aged man sat smoking a cigarette, surrounded by his subordinates.
Mr. Trillo, the boss of Valiant’s outlaws.
He gave me a heavy stare, crushing his cigarette in an ashtray before speaking.

“Who are you?”

A simple question, demanding my identity.
I sat in the chair across from him and answered,

“Percival Smith.”

My six-letter name, unknown to all.
The men behind Mr. Trillo stirred at the sound.

“Percival Smith?”

“Who’s that?”

– “Wait, the dark merchant Percival Smith?”

– “Dark merchant?”

“What, he’s famous?”

– “The information merchant of the century, Percival, is here?”

– “Dark merchant Percival Smith… I heard he doesn’t sell info to just anyone.”

“Hmm, nice. He gets it.”

Because I made them think that.
With an arrogant smirk, I looked at Mr. Trillo, who nodded, swayed by the nonsense my telepathy had planted in his men’s minds.

“Hmm… Seems you’re quite the name. Alright, let’s hear your story.”