The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 302: Chapter 301: I Am the King of Raiders (2)



Claude lay back, looking at the ceiling with his eyes closed. Living a long life, he never thought he'd hear someone tell him to act as a corrupt official and make contact with a criminal organization.

'When did my reputation end up like this?'

Was it when he gambled with the lord? Or maybe when he turned Alpoi into a slave just like him? Or perhaps it was when he siphoned off gold coins while secretly trading with the merchant guild? Or when he slickly talked his comrades and juniors into joining him?

Whatever it was, it felt unfair. Absolutely unfair. Claude shouted, filled with grievance.

"I'm not a corrupt official! And what's with the nickname 'Bribe King'? Bribe King! That was all because the lord told me to do it!"

"Are you sure?"

"I hardly took anything! I was short on living expenses!"

"... You actually took some? And Wendy just let that slide?"

In fact, Wendy had previously turned a blind eye to Claude skimming a bit of gold from the merchant guild. Flustered, Claude quickly changed the subject.

"No! What do you expect me to do, meeting with a criminal organization?"

"We'll discuss the money you took later. Anyway, these guys keep hiding, making it hard to root them out. Somehow, gather them and get a handle on things."

"So how do I do that?"

"That's for you to figure out. Start by getting close to them."

"I'm terrible at acting, so even if I do get close, they'll find me out immediately."

"No, you can do it. Just put your heart into it."

"Ugh! How do you expect me to put my heart into a job like this? My true heart despises corruption!"

Despite Claude's dramatic protest, Ghislain remained unmoved. No matter how much he thought about it, there was no one more suited to this task than Claude.

Although he seemed to deny it himself, criminals would undoubtedly recognize Claude's true value.

Faced with Ghislain's firm decision, Claude had no choice but to begin the task.

"Ugh, maybe I should come up with a decent operation name or something."

After some thought, Claude lazily came up with the name "Pest Eradication" and summoned Lowell.

"Hey, find a suitable spot and make some connections with the criminal organizations. Tell them I'm coming to meet them in person."

"These days, those guys are lying low, so they might be hard to meet. They'll be really cautious."

"Ugh, just do what I say without arguing, can't you? If I say I want to meet them, they'll come. It's me, Claude."

Lowell grumbled internally at Claude's irritation.

"You are the one who argues the most..."

"What?"

"Ah, nothing. Now that I think about it, if it's the Head Butler, they'll definitely come. I'll be right on it."

Lowell hurriedly set out to contact the criminal organizations.

After the Raider King's sweep, the underworld had gone quiet, holding its breath. Even petty thugs were keeping a low profile.

While it was good news for the estate's residents, it wasn't ideal for Ghislain, who wanted to completely root out crime in the territory.

Relying on existing records, Lowell contemplated for a while before settling on a group that had not yet suffered the Raider King's wrath.

"The Blue Skull Gang. These guys seem like a good choice. Their boss is supposed to be a bit dense and foolish."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The Blue Skull Gang wasn't a particularly large organization, but they were involved in manufacturing and distributing hallucinogens. They were known to sell drugs secretly to affluent clients.

Their survival so far was due to providing drugs to a high-ranking official in Desmond, who offered them protection.

Originally, they operated as a herbal medicine shop, but after being swept away by the Raider King, they relocated and started a new venture.

Using scattered information, Lowell pinpointed the address of a shop run by the Blue Skull Gang.

When he arrived at the address, he found a large building with an elegantly written sign.

[The Taste of Illusion]

||||

The place had become a well-known restaurant. Unable to commit their usual crimes, they seemed to have shifted to legitimate business.

Lowell decided to go inside. The building was relatively new and impeccably clean.

The rumors of it being a popular restaurant weren't unfounded, as it was bustling with customers. Judging by their attire, most patrons seemed fairly well-off.

"Welcome!"

A waitress in a slightly provocative outfit greeted him warmly. Scratching his chin, Lowell thought to himself.

'Is this why it's so popular?'

After sitting down, the waitress handed him a menu and began explaining.

"Our restaurant uses a secret special sauce to deliver a taste like no other! It's a bit pricey, but you'll find it's worth every coin!"

"Hmm..."

After some deliberation, Lowell ordered the most expensive dish. After all, public funds

existed for moments like this.

"The Taste of Illusion Special Full Course."

"And how would you like your sauce? Thick? Light? Or regular?"

"Uh... thick?"

If he was going all out, he might as well enjoy the richest flavor.

"Understood! This is our best dish, so please look forward to it!"

Soon, the dishes began arriving. The presentation and aroma rivaled any noble's banquet.

Swallowing his saliva, Lowell picked up a piece of meat drenched in fragrant sauce.

The moist meat, glistening with sauce, was unlike anything Lowell had ever had. With a

blissful expression, he took a bite.

And then his eyes flew wide open.

'D-Delicious! Incredibly so!'

It was so good it was almost indescribable. It was the kind of taste that made one see

hallucinations.

Tears streaming down his face, Lowell thought to himself.

'What the hell did they put in this food... these insane bastards...'

If he ate any more, he would surely become addicted. Now he understood why the special

sauce was a secret.

Criminals couldn't be left alone. Even while lying low, they were running a shady business like

this.

Most people probably didn't know what was in the sauce. But Lowell, having dealt with strange substances during his time under Count Digald, knew exactly what this head-

spinning taste was.

Seeing Lowell in tears, the waitress approached him, startled.

"Oh my! Is something wrong? Does the food not suit your palate?"

"No... it just reminds me of something nostalgic..."

"Like your mother's cooking? Our food is amazing, isn't it? Hohoho."

'It's not that... you lunatics...'

Putting down his utensils, Lowell stood up and addressed the waitress.

"Can I speak to your manager?"

"What... would that be regarding?"

Though the waitress's tone held a hint of suspicion, Lowell remained unfazed and replied

calmly.

"The food is so exceptional that I want to introduce it to the noble I serve. Call them

immediately."

The waitress hesitated but eventually nodded. After all, this wasn't something she could

handle alone.

Soon, a neatly dressed man arrived and bowed his head.

"I've heard a brief explanation. What do you need?"

Lowell scanned the manager up and down a few times before speaking. For someone running

an operation like this, there was no need for long-winded words.

"You want to keep your business running, right?"

"That... what do you mean?" "I'm someone sent by the Head Butler. We already know everything about you."

The manager's eyes trembled. He seemed unsure of how to respond. Ignoring the manager's

reaction, Lowell continued.

"I know you're struggling to operate properly because of the Raider King. The Head Butler

said he'd handle it, but he wants to meet your boss first. He'll come in two nights. Be ready to greet him."

"... I don't understand what you're saying."

"Two nights from now. If you keep hiding, we'll tear this place down and hunt you all down,

one by one. Got it?"

Without waiting for an answer, Lowell turned to leave. Before stepping out, he seemed to remember something and turned back.

"Stop messing with the food. Before we round you all up and throw you in prison. What? A

mother's touch? Does your mother cook with drugs on her hands?"

"...Yes."

After Lowell left, the Blue Skull Gang's boss, Morbin, received the message and was thrown

into deep thought.

With a new lord in the estate, it was wise to keep a low profile for a while. The noble who had been protecting them before had already been executed by Ghislain.

On top of that, the Raider King's rampages made it impossible to expand their territory

amidst the chaos.

That's why they switched industries and had been living quietly. But now, with the new Head

Butler asking for a meeting, it felt suspicious.

"Damn it... how did they find out about us? Did the noble who used to protect us leave

something behind?"

If not, it was hard to explain how they had been located so quickly.

In any case, there were two options: meet with this Head Butler to find out what he wanted or

abandon the estate entirely.

"Hah, starting over somewhere else won't be easy either."

Other estates likely already had established criminal organizations in place. Those organizations would surely have nobles backing them, making it difficult for a new group to

settle in.

Still, meeting the Head Butler of an estate was a terrifying prospect. It could be a trap to lure

them out of hiding.

While Morbin wrestled with his thoughts, one of his subordinates cautiously spoke.

"Boss, haven't you heard the rumors about the Head Butler?"

"Rumors? What rumors?"

"He's nicknamed the Bribe King of the North. The Bribe King."

"The Bribe King of the North?"

"Yes, it's quite a famous nickname. Haven't you heard of it? Even the estate's residents all

seem to know."

"Really? It's that well-known?"

Due to the nature of his work, Morbin lived in hiding, so he was often late to hear rumors. The

chaos caused by the Raider King didn't help matters either.

When he sent other subordinates to gather more information, they all returned with the same

message.

"They say he's an incredibly corrupt man."

"There isn't a single merchant guild trading with the estate that hasn't been squeezed for

money." "With the estate in turmoil, they're saying he's planning to pocket a fortune."

The accounts were consistent. The Head Butler was, by all descriptions, the very definition of

a corrupt official. Finally, Morbin let out a sinister laugh.

"Hehe, seems like the new guy is just looking for a benefactor. Wants to back us and take a

share of our profits."

As long as humans lived together, the underworld would never disappear. Most nobles and officials turned a blind eye to crime as long as it didn't cross certain lines.

They even used criminal groups for dirty work and took bribes in return, creating a mutually

beneficial relationship.

Even Count Desmond had tolerated such activities as long as they didn't interfere with the estate's management. This mindset was prevalent across the continent. After hearing about Claude's reputation, Morbin made up his mind.

"I'll meet the Head Butler. Make sure everything is prepared properly for his arrival."

When the appointed day arrived, The Taste of Illusion restaurant closed early. They set up a

grand feast in preparation.

Morbin personally inspected every detail. After all, the person coming was an official who might become their backer.

As night fell, one of his subordinates rushed over to Morbin.

"The Head Butler has arrived."

"Let's go welcome him."

Morbin adjusted his attire and plastered a smile across his face as he hurried to the entrance.

But the moment he saw the guest, his smiling face froze.

Claude had arrived, accompanied by only a single robed attendant. As soon as he stepped in,

he made a fuss.

"Ugh, why does my body feel so heavy?" Morbin's eyes twitched as he observed Claude.

It was bizarre. The so-called Head Butler of an estate was dressed in the most absurd manner.

His hat was adorned with dozens of bird feathers, and his neck was weighed down by thick,

gaudy gold chains. His clothes were covered in luxurious ornaments, making him look utterly ridiculous.

Claude stumbled in, genuinely weighed down by all the trinkets, and gasped.

"You're the boss here?"

|| ||

Morbin squinted. No matter how he looked, something was off.

He'd heard the rumors of corruption, but this was over the top. Even the wealthiest wouldn't

dress like this.

Morbin gestured subtly to his subordinates, asking if this was truly the Head Butler. They

hesitated, shaking their heads slightly. Unfortunately, none of them had seen Claude's face

before.

Although Claude had been busy overseeing Desmond's affairs, he usually moved with a large entourage, making it hard for criminals to get a good look at him. Moreover, he had only recently arrived in the area. His time had mostly been spent managing

major facilities and paperwork, leaving little chance for petty criminals to recognize him.

Morbin, with a sharp gaze, broke the silence. "Are you truly the estate's Head Butler?" "What, you don't know my face? Wendy, they say they don't recognize me." Claude looked indignantly at his attendant. Even though he'd been here a short time, how

could they not know the estate's Head Butler? Such insolence!

True to his sycophantic nature, Claude's self-importance had swelled as the estate grew

stronger under Ghislain's rule.

Morbin shook his head slightly.

"It's hard to believe the Head Butler of an estate would arrive with only one attendant..."

At those words, Morbin's subordinates began exuding subtle hostility. It made no sense for a

high-ranking official to arrive without proper escorts.

What's more, the robed attendant appeared to be a mere maid. At the very least, if this were

the real Head Butler, wouldn't he have knights or bodyguards with him? 'Someone pretending to be the Head Butler to extort us? No escorts, no witnesses. If we kill him here

and bury the body quietly... who's to say?'

It was a criminal's natural line of thought.

At Morbin's signal, his men began closing in, encircling Claude and the attendant.

But before they could fully surround him, the robed figure made a slight movement.

Thunk! Thunk!

"Gah-!"

Thud!

The two men approaching from the sides collapsed instantly, daggers buried in their

foreheads.

Morbin's face turned pale as he watched.

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