Episode 380 – I'm Sorry
“I need a personal storage vault.”
“…Pardon?”
1st Number had expected a request related to the Alliance, but Arthur’s first words were surprisingly personal.
“When you say personal storage…”
“The Master ntioned it. He said the Black Market has sothing called a ‘special vault.’”
“…Hmm.”
He hadn’t expected the Master to reveal the existence of the special vault to Arthur.
That vault wasn’t part of the Black Market’s general finances—it was used solely for the Master’s personal purposes.
Aside from himself and the Master, no one else should have known about it. The fact that the Master told Arthur about the vault said a lot.
‘So the Master fully intends to align with the Alliance.’
It seed the Master had judged that the power balance in Hell Gri was shifting toward the World Tree Alliance.
In truth, Number 1 agreed with that assessnt.
‘Unless Demtor joins forces with Pri Root, it’s impossible to stop the Alliance.’
Arthur Clayton.
Fenry Chaser.
Karl Bastian.
Natasha.
The forces Arthur had gathered in just this villa alone could rival either of those other powers.
The Alliance already held the advantage in core strength, and now that they controlled Aintrier, they were just beginning to blossom.
If things continued like this, the Alliance would grow rapidly in both territory and resources.
Now was the cheapest ti to switch sides and ensure survival.
With his thoughts organized, Number 1 gave a big nod.
“There is indeed a special vault used by the Master.”
“Would there be room for, say, about a hundred million gold?”
“That much can be stored, yes. However…”
“However?”
“You’ll need to prepare it all in gold. The special vault only accepts deposits in pure gold.”
“In gold, huh…”
Arthur smiled subtly at that.
The gold in the special vault had likely been prepared by Azonne as a sacrificial offering to use the Judgnt of Greed.
He was curious just how much was in there, but that wasn’t his reason for bringing up the special vault now.
Arthur pulled out a small crystal orb and handed it to Number 1.
“…This is?”
“It’s a personal matter, so I can’t relay ssages through others. Consider this a direct communication line. If sothing cos up, contact imdiately.”
“U-understood.”
Number 1 accepted the communication orb with a complicated expression.
Now, in addition to the Master, he had another superior who could give him orders.
Arthur smiled and personally poured tea into Number 1’s cup.
“The personal matter is done. Now, let’s move on to business with the Alliance.”
The Black Market had hidden vaults filled with valuables scattered across Hell Gri.
Arthur requested control of a few vaults located near the World Tree.
Number 1 groaned softly as he wrote down the locations in the contract.
“Three locations… that’s a steep loss for us.”
“If you’re taking Azonne’s assets in return, you’ll more than make up for it. Consider it a small sacrifice for a huge gain.”
“Then… when do you intend to transfer Azonne’s assets?”
“Once today’s deal is complete, I’ll send you thirty percent of the amount listed on this blank check.”
Number 1 hadn’t seen the amount written on the check. But he didn’t ask—he could infer how much it must be.
“And the rest…?”
“When all our conditions have been t.”
“…Understood.”
Arthur confird the locations Number 1 had handed over and nodded.
They were all close to the World Tree.
At this distance, the stored goods could likely be moved to the World Tree within a day.
“Now, I need the locations of the remaining vaults…”
Arthur took out a map, spread it before Number 1, and began marking it with X’s.
Number 1’s expression grew confused.
“…What are these markings?”
“I said I’d give you thirty percent of Azonne’s wealth, didn’t I? His assets are scattered all across Hell Gri. These X’s mark where you can collect them.”
“This… this basically covers the entire continent. Can’t you gather them into one place for us?”
“Aintrier’s internal purge isn’t finished yet. We don’t have the capacity right now, so I ask for your understanding.”
Arthur marked wealth all over Hell Gri. That was the only way to locate the rest of the Black Market’s hidden vaults.
‘There should be around ten in total.’
According to the novel, that was accurate.
Azonne and the Black Market Master were the sa person.
Which ant Azonne’s assets were divided between Aintrier and the Black Market.
To claim all of it, Arthur needed access to the Black Market’s vaults—and for that, he needed Number 1.
The transaction moved quickly.
From Number 1’s perspective, this was a one-sided negotiation favoring the Alliance. Even if it was inconvenient, he had to accept it.
“Oh, one more thing.”
“…What now?”
Arthur placed a small box in front of him. Inside was a gem with a soft pink hue.
Just by looking, it was worth at least several million gold.
“I suspect we’ll be in contact often for personal matters. Think of this as a token of goodwill.”
“…This is…”
“Oh, and take this too.”
Arthur handed him a VIP pass.
“Present that to the mansion guards and you’ll be able to use all the villa’s facilities freely. Co rest here anyti things get tough.”
Number 1 stared at the gem and VIP pass, speechless.
He couldn’t quite accept it… but he couldn’t outright refuse it either.
Arthur leaned in and whispered quietly,
“It’s a gift for everyone who ca today. The others didn’t seem inclined to say no.”
“T-thank you.”
If all the other executives accepted it, then he might be safe from bla.
With that hesitation gone, Number 1 took the gifts.
He returned to his room.
Arthur watched the direction he had left in, then quietly sipped his tea.
He had laid the groundwork.
He’d given them a way to contact him directly—if the executives had a change of heart, Arthur would be the first person to co to mind.
Just then, a dark shadow swept across the floor beside him, and Arthur let out a quiet sigh.
When had she arrived?
Fenry silently erged from the shadow.
“Did everything go well?”
When Fenry didn’t answer, Arthur turned to look at her. He tilted his head—her expression was unusually serious.
“What’s with the face?”
“Are you serious?”
“About what?”
“You said you’d give thirty percent of Azonne’s wealth to the Black Market.”
“You were listening?”
“Answer . Were you serious?”
“You heard it already. Why ask?”
“Are you crazy?! Do you have any idea how much that is?!”
“It must be a lot.”
As expected—she hadn’t planned to give them a single coin. Fenry was brilliant at everything else, but she had a strange obsession with money.
“If you just want the rest of the vaults, we can stick to the original plan. Don’t you trust my shadow concealnt?”
“They won’t be able to detect you, that’s true. But how long will it take?”
Only Fenry could use shadow concealnt.
If she hid in their shadows, she could eventually discover the remaining vaults—but it could take too long.
Fenry was core to the Alliance’s power and the World Tree’s protector.
They couldn’t afford to keep her away for too long.
“Once the Black Market is absorbed, the money will co back. Consider it an investnt we’ll recover.”
“Then what about the bribe? That gem had to be worth ten million gold!”
“It was worth ten million? Huh. I grabbed it from Azonne’s drawer. Didn’t know it was that valuable.”
Fenry’s pupils twitched.
“W-wait, don’t tell the box I gave him also…”
“Oh, that one was a little bigger.”
“Move!”
As Fenry lunged to leave, Arthur grabbed her collar and held her back.
Feeling her glare, he quickly added,
“The Black Market’s a decentralized network. If we win over their hearts, we gain the ans to control it. Isn’t that a cheap price to pay?”
“No. It’s expensive!”
“I’ll give you the rest of the gems in Azonne’s drawer.”
As she relaxed a bit, Arthur let out a quiet laugh.
She never changes.
Still looking reluctant, Fenry glanced back toward the executive’s room.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just beat them up? They’re all in one place. Just smack them until they comply.”
“They don’t know the Master is dead yet. Would they really submit to force?”
Even the bribes today wouldn’t change their minds imdiately.
But they’d rember the favor.
“If they go too long without hearing from the Master, what do you think they’ll do?”
“They’ll gather.”
“Where?”
“You don’t an… here?”
“Why else would I give them all VIP passes? When they gather here, I’ll spread word of the Master’s death. Lost and without direction, they’ll rember —the one their Master tried to reach. That’s when we start the real conversion.”
Fenry clicked her tongue and shook her head.
Just how many steps ahead was he thinking?
It was getting harder to treat him casually now.
“You used to at least have a bit of charm…”
“To get what you want, you have to invest.”
“Ugh, you even talk like a crusty old man now.”
“That’s why they say I’m stingy.”
“Want to teach you the taste of blood instead of salt?”
“Before that, how did your talk with the executive go? It ended quickly, so I assu it went well.”
Instead of replying, Fenry held up a dark, gleaming emblem.
“I secured part of the Black Market’s private forces. I’ve got command over them for a year. They’re a decent squad—about a hundred, mostly Tier 1 and 2.”
“That’s impressive. They’ll be a solid addition to any front.”
“Hey.”
Just then, Karl arrived, waving so docunts.
He had been tasked with handling information—collecting and organizing the Black Market’s intel for rapid integration—and by the look on his face, it had gone well.
“Now all that’s left is…”
They looked toward Natasha’s room.
BOOOOM!
The door exploded, and Natasha stord out.
Her expression was grim as she sprinted outside.
“…What the?”
She had clearly seen them, but ignored them and bolted. Sothing was out there.
Karl hurried toward the shattered door, where a terrified executive stood trembling.
Karl approached him and asked,
“What the hell did you say to make her react like that?”
“I-it was about the witches…”
“What? Witches?”
“She asked if we had returned the witches used for curses, and I told her… we already brought them…”
“The witches are outside?!”
As the executive nodded, Karl imdiately took off in the direction Natasha had run—so did Arthur and Fenry.
Natasha tore through the garden at full speed.
[We anticipated your request and brought the witches here.]
She hadn’t even thought about smashing that smug man’s face in. The mont she heard the witches were outside, she was already running.
“Eeit!”
BAM—!
She trampled across the beautifully landscaped garden, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake.
She sprinted in the direction he had pointed.
At the edge of the garden, she found several old wagons.
They said the witches were locked inside.
Natasha slowed when she saw them.
“Ah…”
The witches had lived their whole lives cowering in the Forest of Ordor.
Witch hunters had occasionally taken so of them, and eventually, even those who left to rescue others stopped returning.
So the witches had stayed hidden, surviving in silence.
That was decades ago.
Natasha knew well what happened to witches dragged outside.
She bit her lip hard and walked slowly forward.
The guards stationed around the wagons instinctively backed away from her presence.
She approached one of the wagons and pulled open its door.
Morning sunlight poured in through the gap.
Had they lived so long without ever seeing the sun?
The witches, curled up inside the wagon, moaned as they shielded their eyes.
Their bodies were frail, their limbs thin and bony.
At the sight of their pitiful condition, the giant warrior crumbled.
“…I’m sorry.”
Natasha covered her face and greeted them.
“I’m so sorry.”
And for a long ti, she stood there, unmoving.
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