The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 301: Chapter 300: I am the King of Raiders. (1)



"Oh no, please! Don't take those!"

An old man clung to the leg of a burly man wearing a mask, pleading desperately in the dead of night.

"Damn it, get lost!"

Thud!

"Oof!"

The man kicked the old man aside and continued rummaging through his house.

"Hah, living alone, huh? No wonder there's not much here. Still, it looks like there's plenty of food. Guess you just got your ration. Hey, you marked the next house, right?"

The man turned and asked his companions, who nodded.

"Yeah, we found a good one. Let's head there."

"Alright, let's move. Times like these, we've got to hoard as much as we can."

The man chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. They were low-ranking members of the "Dark Lion Gang," one of the many criminal groups operating in Desmond.

Despite the grandiose name, their primary business was straightforward thievery-and there was a reason for that.

"Heh, that crazy head butler threw food around like a maniac. If we gather it all and sell it to merchants from another territory, we'll make a fortune."

Criminal organizations often engaged in various shady activities-selling illicit substances, loan sharking, scams, extortion, and smuggling contraband.

But lately, the trend in Desmond was robbery and theft. With the occupying forces distributing large amounts of food, stealing it promised quick and easy profits.

Taking advantage of the massive gaps left when Harold pulled most of the territory's forces to the front lines, the criminals filled the void.

"Hurry up. I heard soldiers are patrolling more and more places. Let's grab as much as we can before they catch on."

Criminal gangs were frantically looting, aware this was a limited-time opportunity to capitalize on the chaos.

As the thieves prepared to leave, the old man got up again and shouted.

"You bastards! How am I supposed to live without that? Give it back now!"

The old man lunged at them, but the man kicked him again.

"Urgh!"

"Hey, we were leaving nicely. Can't you take a hint? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Haven't you heard about people dying lately?"

The man drew a knife and waved it in front of the old man's face. Seeing the bloodshot eyes of the thief, the old man froze, breathing heavily.

"Ugh..."

Having lived a long life, he could tell at a glance-these men weren't bluffing. They were killers.

Seeing the old man finally back down, the man spat on the ground and laughed.

"Go ahead, report us if you want. They won't catch us anyway. They don't even know who we are. Hahaha!"

Enjoying his freedom in the chaos, the man gestured to his group, and they moved toward their next target.

But as they headed out, they encountered another group of masked individuals.

"Huh? Who the hell are these guys?"

The man frowned. While robbery was trending, gangs usually respected each other's territories to avoid unnecessary conflict. Fighting would only hinder their chance to rake in as much as possible.

"There's quite a few of them. Where are you from? Hey, you lot, what's your territory?"

The newcomers remained silent, staring at the raiders. Then, the one at the front stepped forward and asked,

"Are you bandits?"

"I asked where you're from! This is our turf, got it?"

"Bandits."

"You little-are you picking a fight? Where are you from, huh?"

The man shouted, emboldened by the fact that while outnumbered, they were on home ground. There was no need to fear-they had a no-conflict pact between gangs for the time being.

But the strangers had no intention of negotiating. One of them drew a hand axe and started walking toward the man.

"W-What? Are you with the Bloody Axe Gang? You're making a big mistake if you—"

Thwack!

Before the man could finish, his head was smashed, and he crumpled to the ground. The axe- wielding figure spoke in an emotionless tone.

"I am the King of Raiders. Those behind me are the Forty raiders."

Disguised as the King of Raiders, Ghislain had come across the gang while on his way to

eliminate other criminal organizations.

The remaining thieves stumbled back, trembling.

"W-What? What are you talking about? We have a pact! Are you declaring war?"

"War? Against trash like you? Leave one alive. Kill the rest."

With a wave of Ghislain's hand, the "Forty raiders" moved into action-actually knights in

disguise.

Crack!

Thud!

"Aaagh!"

In mere moments, the thieves were killed-bodies broken and heads crushed. Without magic or proper training, they stood no chance against knights.

"P-Please, spare me!"

The lone survivor prostrated himself, trembling uncontrollably. Everything had happened so

fast he could barely comprehend it.

Ghislain crouched beside him and asked, "Which gang are you with?"

"D-Dark Lion Gang!"

"Pfft!"

The name was so absurd that Ghislain burst into laughter, only to clear his throat and regain

his composure.

"Ahem. Never heard of them. Guess I'll have to pay them a visit."

Ghislain tilted his head.

While Harold was alive, he had documented and identified most criminal organizations, but the information was not perfect. This is because new organizations were created when

existing organizations disappeared or merged.

Organizations that paid taxes to the territory and protected themselves were clearly identified, but information on those who did not pay taxes and held out until they were wiped out, or those who were pushed out by power struggles, was bound to be insufficient.

And it was also difficult to know about new organizations that emerged during the gap in

security.

It wasn't a goal in the plan, but since they came out with the intention of catching and eliminating all the criminals anyway, it was right to take action now. Ghislain nodded and

continued.

"Lead the way."

"W-What?"

"Take me to your hideout."

"Y-Yes, sir!"

The thief, relieved to be alive, scrambled to his feet. Once they reached the hideout, he was

sure the gang's leaders would handle these invaders.

The thief led Ghislain and the knights to a large building.

"Hmm, what's this place?"

It was a large ink production and dyeing workshop, an operational facility listed in the

territory's records-implying the gang ran a legitimate front as well.

"Well, well, running a respectable business by day and raking in cash through crime by night.

Clever little rats."

This was why eradicating gangs was so difficult. The leaders often stayed clean, delegating dirty work to underlings while abiding by the law themselves.

They even bribed officials to create networks of influence, ensuring an escape route if caught.

"No wonder they're hard to catch. Most of the residents probably don't even know this is a criminal organization."

If he attacked without evidence, rumors would spread that the lord was oppressing innocents. On the other hand, building a legal case would take too much time and effort.

Might as well beat them senseless and toss them into the labor battalions.

Creak...

As they entered, a group of burly men looked up.

"Who are you? We're not open for business. Come back tomorrow."

The speaker was a muscular man with a seemingly polite demeanor-the leader of the Darkn/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Lion Gang.

However, he quickly noticed the intruders' suspicious appearance.

"What the hell? Why are you all wearing masks?"

"I am the King of Raiders."

"What?"

Before the leader could react, the captured thief shouted, "Boss! They're the Bloody Axe

Gang! They've come to take us out!"

That single cry was enough to spur the gang members into action, all grabbing their weapons

and standing.

Ghislain watched the scene unfold and muttered quietly,

"I said, I'm the King of Raiders."

"Attack!" At the gang leader's signal, the gang members charged forward. Ghislain nodded toward his

knights and said,

"Wipe them out. Leave just that one."

Boom!

"Huh?"

The gang leader froze mid-step.

They were gone. All his comrades who had been charging alongside him had suddenly

disappeared.

Turning his head slowly, he saw them all lying broken and bloodied against the walls.

Click, click, click...

The gang leader's teeth chattered as his body trembled. He slowly raised his hands.

'It's real. They're really shadow operatives.'

The figures before him weren't common criminals-they had to be professional assassins or

members of a major guild.

"W-What brings you here, sir?"

"Hmm, let's have a chat."

"W-Would you like some tea, perhaps?"

"No, just sit down." Despite the blood splattered around the room, Ghislain calmly sat in a chair. The gang leader

didn't dare sit but instead knelt on the floor.

Ghislain observed him for a moment before speaking.

"Tell me the locations of all the other gangs you know."

"Y-Yes, sir!"

The leader was no fool. He knew that resisting or playing coy in a situation like this only led to

pain-lots of it.

In the end, loyalty and honor within criminal organizations were shallow at best.

The leader painstakingly listed every gang he knew, their locations, their member count, and

even their leaders' names, as though he were listing the enemies of his family.

Satisfied, Ghislain skimmed the notes and nodded approvingly.

"Excellent. Now I know where to go next."

Some of the gangs were already on his list, while others were new. Criminals always knew best

how to find other criminals.

He intended to follow the trail, smashing them all one by one.

"Hey, you two."

"Yes!"

The gang leader and the sole remaining lackey shouted in unison.

Ghislain turned to them and said,

"The King of Raiders never leaves his enemies alive. So, it seems you'll have to die."

"Please, spare us!"

"Hmm, perhaps if you survive, you'll atone for your sins."

Thud!

With a swift strike, Ghislain knocked both of them unconscious.

One of the masked knights hoisted the unconscious men over his shoulder and quickly left the

scene, heading to the nearest military barracks.

There, soldiers dragged the unconscious criminals away, as the barracks bore a large sign that

read:

[Labor Assault Corps - Special Training Unit #5]

Thus, every night, the King of Raiders and his Forty raiders hunted down criminal organizations. By daybreak, bodies of gang members were scattered across the streets, causing a stir among the citizens.

"Is there a serial killer on the loose?"

"No, they're all criminals. It's gang wars, apparently."

"Wow! So the gangs are fighting each other?"

"Yeah, there's this guy called the King of Raiders trying to unite the underworld of the

territory!" "I hope we don't get caught in the crossfire. Things are already chaotic after the war..."

"The new lord issued strict orders: no harming citizens. That's why soldiers are patrolling and

tightening security everywhere."

"That's a relief, I guess..."

Lowell, Ghislain's spymaster, carefully spread rumors to make it seem like the chaos was a

turf war among gangs, diverting suspicion away from the lord.

Though the citizens were unsettled by the violence, the increased patrols and security

measures reassured them.

As long as they weren't directly affected, they'd forget about it soon enough.

With each passing night, more criminal groups were eradicated.

Thud! Thud! Thud! "Argh! You devil!"

"You must be the King of Raiders!"

"We'll never forgive you!"

Some of the gangs joined forces to fight back, but they were no match for the King of Raiders

and his Forty raiders.

Every night, half the criminals were killed, and the other half were sent to labor assault corps

camps.

"You monstrous bastard! Do you have to go this far? Can't you leave us a little? Do you have to

take it all for yourself?"

One gang leader screamed in desperation, but Ghislain simply lopped off his head and replied, "You're not people. And yes, I do like taking it all."

Despite the rapid takedown of criminal organizations, the work wasn't as quick as Ghislain

had hoped.

Desmond was vast, and the aftermath of its defeat had led to a surge in criminal activity.

As rumors of the King of Raiders spread, many gangs began hiding, relocating, or significantly reducing their activities.

Ghislain rubbed his temples in frustration.

"Ugh, these rats..."

Letting them hide wasn't an option-they'd just resurface to cause trouble later.

Criminals would never truly vanish, but Ghislain was determined to ensure they wouldn't dare

breathe while under his rule.

"Time for a new approach."

He needed to round them up quickly, ideally forcing them to group up on their own.

After some thought, he summoned Claude.

"You're up for a special task."

"Me? What is it?"

"Your reputation isn't great, right? You're known for loving bribes and gambling-a real

scoundrel."

"...So what?"

Claude tilted his head, annoyed. Somehow, his bad reputation had spread even to the new

territory.

He'd hoped for a fresh start, but that dream was dashed. Ghislain, however, seemed delighted. With a sly grin, he said,

"You're going to meet the gangs. Pretend to take bribes and offer them protection. Gather

them all together."

|| ||

"You can handle it, right? You're perfect for this."

Ghislain's tone was full of certainty. Claude, after all, was the most infamous administrator in

the region.

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