Clearing the Game at the End of the World
Chapter 162: Lead and Silver Coins (16)

****

Thud!

One of the three trucks' cargo area opened, and long-lasting vegetables such as potatoes, carrots, onions, and broccoli tumbled out.

There was no particular need for display. Simply by opening the cargo area wide on the open lot and neatly placing the vegetables in empty green gun boxes, the setup was complete.

Although we lost the trailer on the way and the quantity was nearly halved, since our operational goal had significantly diverged from mere trading, there was not much to regret.

With this amount of fresh produce, the break-even point was ambiguous, but it was more than enough to attract people.

"Alright, beloved brothers and sisters of Dome! We are the long-distance caravan BDSM from Dome 47! Big-Margin! Small-Dream!"

Tap, tap, tap!

"Jaw, the other way around! The other way!"

"Eh? Ah, damn it! B, Big-Dream! Small-Margin! A trading post selling big dreams at reasonable prices! Check out the BDSM caravan's goods! We are in the eastern lot! Big-Dream! Small-Margin!"

Each time Ian's booming voice echoed through the city's alleys, people hiding inside their homes started peeking out one by one.

Doing business right in the middle of a potentially hostile group? Some might say we were desperate for money, but this was a part of a strategy derived from logical and rational thinking.

We weren't sure how much the enemy knew about us, but thanks to Dana, it was certain that we had more information than what the enemy was expecting.

The important thing was to keep that information hidden without getting caught.

By deciding to oppose Dome 38, holing up in a room, pulling out guns, setting booby traps, and all that nonsense would practically advertise ‘we've caught on to your dirty secrets~'. It was better to act as though we were traders who had come a long way, only to unfortunately lose our merchandise to fanatics. Might as well make a lot of money while we're at it – that was the attitude to adopt.

"Is… is all that really for sale?"

Watching Ian's Hummer from afar, a rather sturdy-looking man among the people who had been just looking around gathered the courage to approach.

A sales smile bloomed on Professor's face.

"My, of course! All freshly grown in Dome's state-of-the-art cultivation facilities, not in the barren wasteland! They're very fresh, harvested less than two weeks ago! But… how much were you thinking?"

"Well… I don't have much in shillings, but I've got some alloy saved up…"

The man glanced around nervously, almost as if dealing drugs, and handed over a pouch filled with alloy.

For a Dome resident to suggest trading in scrap rather than shillings was unusual. Likely, it was illegal funds prepared by dismantling Dome structures.

‘Fortunately, it seems there are quite a few holes to dig into with this enemy.'

Observing the man's behavior, which was far removed from the normal physiology of Dome, the smile on Professor's face deepened.

He casually opened the pouch to check the alloy lumps with melting and scorch marks, a messy mix of high-quality alloy and scrap metal, clearly not the work of someone involved in this line of work.

"Hmm… With this amount, I can't give you much…"

"I, I don't need much. It's not for eating-"

"If it's not for eating… then?"

"Gah! No, it's for dinner tonight!"

Thwack!

‘Caught you!' Sᴇaʀᴄh the N0ᴠᴇFɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

The atmosphere was not just devoid of vitality for a Dome, but outright gloomy. Citizens glancing around even while buying food. A man offering illegal funds with a grave face as if heading to a battlefield. Doesn't it feel off? These people are deeply afraid of something, and the act of buying food itself is linked to that fear. Whether it was food control or a ban on trading with outsiders, it didn't matter. The important thing was that we had found a reason to press our ‘guest'.

"If it's not for eating, you surely don't mean it's for ornamental purposes. I see dirt under your nails? Are these goods for seeding purposes?"

"No, no, not at all! That's not it!"

"Ha-ha-ha. What an interesting guest we have here? I understand that Dome regulations prohibit the cultivation of illegal crops outside of approved farmlands. Evading taxes when they are not even that high… You're quite bold, aren't you?"

"No, no, that's not it!"

The man, caught in a slip of the tongue, was terrified and attempted to flee, but the left arm that grabbed his shoulder didn't budge an inch, as solid as a steel tower. Only then did the man notice the peculiarly shaped left arm and glove of this intimidating merchant.

"What are you… that arm…!"

"Well, a merchant, just a merchant. Big-Dream, Small-Margin! Just like you might moonlight as a scavenger, I have a side job as well. By the way, you seem to be a farmer, how come you didn't save even a single seed? They say a farmer would rather starve than sleep without seeds. Did you eat them all out of hunger?"

"That's ridiculous! That's not…"

The man, about to say something, clammed up in confusion, shutting his mouth tight like a clam. Vex, who had been aligning rows of carrots, didn't miss the opportunity and subtly pushed forward a green wooden box that had been separately packaged.

Half of the box was filled with fresh produce, the other half with MREs obtained from the station.

I deliberately opened the packaging of the combat ration, tearing open the retort packaging of beans and stewed meat to show its contents. The rich smell spread rapidly, drawing the man's gaze entirely to it. The moment the man unwittingly stretched out his hand.

Swoosh-

As if teasing him, the wooden box moved away from him. Greed was visible in his expression, clutching his stomach. Hunger, I know it all too well.

"Why… why are you showing this to me?"

The man's tone had completely shifted to respectful, and Professor gently wrapped his shoulder.

"The reason… you know, merchants are quite superstitious. If you make a big profit, they say to give away a tenth of the earnings. If your ledger grows mold, money leaks away. Or."

Snap!

"Sending the first customer away empty-handed brings great misfortune."

Behind the widely opened cargo area and the piled goods, there was a space not visible from the outside, not originally part of the building, thus no need to worry about bugs or surveillance devices in this makeshift chamber.

"It's nothing much. We haven't been here long, so we're not well-versed in the market prices or trends. It's embarrassing for a merchant, but we can't trade without knowing the value. We were hoping you could tell us about the recent food situation in Dome 38, tax allocations, or any other trivial trends."

The man, swallowing his saliva, was handed the opened combat ration.

"A very small favor. For that much, this box full of rations will be entirely yours."

Rumble-

Vex, having finished unloading the goods, timely pulled down the door of the cargo area, and pitch-black darkness descended between the two, invisible to anyone else.

Click. Creak, creak, creak.

Gulping.

"…In fact, Dome has been acting very strangely recently…"

In that deep, anonymous space, the man's mouth finally began to open. The sound of the heavy wooden box being pushed towards him marked the beginning.

****

"Bug sweep~"

"Check-"

"Double check-"

"Cameras~"

"Check-"

"Double check-"

"Sniper spots~"

"Check-"

"Ah, sorry. Ian said he'd go set up the booby traps himself, so I didn't check that one."

"Good. Better leave the explosives to him anyway. Now, finally, we can take a break."

Thud.

The business continued until dusk, and after achieving some success, the group, following the recommendation of most of their customers, headed to a caravan inn where they could rest only after completing about 30 minutes of security checks.

This was a room at the top of a six-story inn, from which the radio tower, a landmark of Area 38, was clearly visible. The innkeeper complained that a wealthy caravan, arriving with three vehicles, had only booked one large room, but it was much better to endure the innkeeper's complaints than to be separated and picked off one by one.

Professor, looking at the radio tower built on the site of an old broadcasting station, encouraged the visibly exhausted group.

"Everyone worked hard today, keeping watch, trading, gathering information. Especially Ezel. You must have had a hard time, but you did well."

"…Hard time? We three combined couldn't even do half of what you did. Where did you learn that kind of negotiation and interrogation? That's not the skill of a novice."

"Let's see. Twenty-one, twenty-two, from raiding our own supply convoys…"

"What?"

"Ah, nothing. Just something I learned in the military."

Flap.

I casually brushed off Ezel's suspicious gaze and focused on the file summarizing the gathered information.

=========

1. Taxes have not increased, yet they have. It's been a while since administration, investigation, and enforcement started collecting taxes separately.

2. There was a large religious gathering. Naturally, it was centered around Happy Blind followers, and strangely, suppression took a long time. <- According to witnesses, it wasn't that suppression took long, but rather, the deployment was delayed.

3. There have been communication disruptions for a while, making it impossible to use GG or community forums. Suddenly, refugees dressed as outsiders swarmed in, causing quite a panic among the people. There was a time when technicians who could tinker with circuits were all summoned to the radio tower. Some haven't returned.

4. Many ‘peasants' from the farming district disappeared. Heard they were replaced by the recently arrived refugees, but even that filled up, and for a while, a son who worked as a guard didn't come home, staying at his post. When he did come home, he wouldn't speak a word and would leave again soon. -Too detailed to be dismissed as a mother's worry about her son. Feeling guilty about a massacre? Forced conscription? New recruits?

5. There was a massive blackout. According to the administration, it was an act of Happy Blind, and with the emergency shield down, the entire power was cut off, exposing people in the eastern district and nearby areas to radiation. Radiation decontamination teams meticulously inspected everything from furniture to spoons. <- It felt like they were searching for something.

=========

These were the most significant pieces of information obtained from civilians.

Considering this is after a day's work, he could see a few roots that were quite large.

"There seems to be more than one or two problems…"

It wasn't just one rotten orange spoiling the whole basket. One had white mold blooming, another oozed pus with black mold. They were rotting in a rich variety of colors.

Boom!

"I'm back."

"Welcome. You look… What's that?"

Interrupted by the abrupt voice, I turned to see Ian entering the room, carrying two people with swollen faces.

"This one- was a sniper waiting at one of the sniper spots. And this one, a weird guy trying to assassinate that sniper. There were exactly two sniper spots, so I checked both. One had an electronic alarm trap, and the other had these guys. Both seemed suspicious, so I brought them."

Ian laid the two motionless people on the ground and subtly signaled.

[Unconscious/Disguise]

‘To think they were suspicious enough as assassins, but to also pretend to be unconscious…'

Following Ian's sign, I glanced down at the assassins sprawled on the floor.

The two figures were carelessly tossed onto the floor, evidently trained agents given their lack of protest despite being thrown into uncomfortable positions indicating they were adversaries.

[Confirmation]

It was clear that we had become a hot topic in Area 38.

The sniper who had settled in position as soon as we secured our lodging, and another assassin who arrived at the sniper spot a step too late, intending to eliminate him.

The strangely tense atmosphere in Area 38, where three departments collect taxes separately, suggested a fragmented situation.

‘It's post-election period now. What if, during that process, irreconcilable discord arose between the departments? Beyond mere discord, what if they're now roping in external forces like Raptor or Happy Blind, to eliminate each other?'

Considering the tripartite conflict scenario in Area 38, it wasn't hard to guess these individuals' purpose.

BDSM, having just arrived in this Area today, was neutral. A crucial neutrality, connected to Area 47, so their intention couldn't be to outright kill us. Likely, their target wasn't us but another significant figure arriving here. To protect or perhaps…

‘To eliminate another faction's representative before negotiations with us could begin.'

Knock, knock, knock-

"Seems like a person of no noble stature."

As if responding to my thoughts, there was a knock on the door where our group was. Vex pointed the gun towards the door and slightly opened it, revealing a neatly dressed man through the thin gap. Vex's grim voice greeted him.

"Identity and purpose."

"Ah, such a fierce gatekeeper. Would you mind stepping aside?"

"Identity and purpose."

His pronunciation was more slurred and muffled than usual. Vex understood his physical characteristics well. Small and frail appearance, aged face. Adding slurred speech made him seem like a menial worker to those seeing him for the first time. Since I declared the whole area an operation zone upon getting out of the truck, Vex had been deliberately keeping quiet, carrying vegetables, moving luggage, and sticking to menial tasks. Thanks to that, the man outside, unaware of the gun Vex hid behind the door aimed precisely at his head height, approached with a business-like smile.

"There's no need for alarm. I'm here on behalf of the administrative body that effectively governs Area 38, to convey a message to you."

Seeing Vex sending me a ‘shall we test him?' kind of signal with his eyes, I nodded,

Slowly.

Vex's thumb moved towards the hammer of the revolver he held.

Click-

Flinch!

With the sound of the hammer being cocked, a very subtle, but definite, reaction from one of the assassins.

Observant as ever, Professor noticed. Unlike the other who remained motionless, one assassin's neck muscles tensed for a moment. Caught in the dilemma of whether to inform his unaware ally about the gun pointed at his head or to continue feigning unconsciousness, the sound of the hammer being cocked inadvertently made him tense.

‘This one came from the administration. Before even starting, we've got a useful card in hand?'

Professor signaled a [de-escalation] with his hands and welcomed the incoming spokesperson with open arms.

"My goodness, such busy officials coming all the way to the humble abode of mere merchants! Had you summoned us, we would have gladly visited the administrative building ourselves!"

"Ha ha ha ha. No…..! Ahem! No, it wouldn't be right to summon distinguished guests from afar. But, those people behind you are…?"

"Ah, this? Nothing much. Just some new friends we made a few minutes ago. Please, take a seat! You've come to talk, after all, so let me at least serve you some tea."

The spokesperson, who had momentarily stiffened as if meeting an old friend, was probably sweating bullets. He must be wondering why he ended up tied up here.

With bustling gestures, I led the spokesperson to the table and then roughly dragged the administration's assassin over to sit beside me.

Scritch-scratch-

Sssshhhhh!

Whoosh! Whooosh!

Sssshhh!

As Ezel, who had been very eager to "excise the rotten parts of Dome," poured tea for the spokesperson, Vex and Ian grimly tore up the white bedsheet on the bed to make ropes.

The atmosphere screamed that something was terribly wrong.

The freshly made white ropes secured the assassin's limbs to the chair, and as the sound of sharpening knives whispered in the ear of the gagged assassin, his breathing became audibly rough.

The spokesperson? He tried to maintain a calm demeanor by picking up the teacup, but his trembling hands spilled it all, making him look pitiful.

As I wiped the table with the remaining bits of blanket, the spokesperson jumped, startled.

"My, spilling such precious tea. These luxury goods, low in calories as they may be, are scarce and expensive. You seem quite shaky… Are you cold?"

"Ye-ye-yes, a bit chilly. Ha, ha-uh-ick! Hh…."

Each time I leaned closer to wipe the spilled tea, his trembling intensified. Hmm, perfect. The mood was ripe.

"Vex."

Crack!

At my call, Vex embedded a sharp dagger into the table.

"Ah, please don't misunderstand. We're all quite tired, and for merchants, time is money, isn't it? I heard you had something to say. Let's multitask and hear it while we take care of other matters."

As I casually leaned back in my chair, intertwining my fingers, Ian placed the limp hand of the assassin on the table. The breathing of both the assassin and the spokesperson grew even rougher.

"If I had known you were so busy, I would have come another time… Maybe I should return today and-"

"Oh, no need for that. This is nothing more than simple labor for us, akin to peeling a particularly tough carrot, so it'll be over quickly. Unless…"

Click, click, click.

"Would you, by any chance, have any connection with this individual?"

"No, no, that's completely preposterous! I, I do not know such an agent!"

"Such an ‘agent'… Agent…. A-gent…."

"Ugh, uh, ugh!"

The spokesperson was now almost holding his breath or holding back tears, unclear which. Compared to the assassin who was still holding back stoically, this one seemed to be of a lower caliber.

‘Well, at this point with two hostile forces nearby, the messenger they send is just this much. Just needs to deliver a message, can't risk a valuable elite on an assassination threat.'

Watching him turn completely pale, I casually tossed a lifeline.

"Then. Let's hear what you came to talk about. Oh, just a side note. This big friend here tends to get deeply engrossed in interesting stories. If you're a good speaker, this friend might forget all about their duties and dive into your story. Hahahaha! You should stick to the point, say what you need to, and go, right?"

Slowly tracing the assassin's spread fingers on the table with my fingernail, I fixed a meaningful gaze into the spokesperson's eyes. Though I didn't say it aloud, the look clearly conveyed a ‘you know what I mean?' significance, mercilessly drilling into his wavering pupils.

A conversation? Sorry, but if you wanted to talk, you should have sent someone appropriate. Just introducing yourself as a ‘spokesperson' without any introduction or position? That's practically throwing away your hand. Sending such fools our way only compels us to respond in kind.

"Let's see… You said you came from the administration. Seems like Dome management hasn't been going well lately?"

"Th-that's because…."

Beginning the ‘interrogation' of the spokesperson with a smooth voice, Professor smiled contentedly.

He expected to uncover the darker plots more easily than anticipated if such individuals kept showing up.

****

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