My Name Is Albrecht Part 8

Gonz smashed into the wall with his shoulder, opening a hole. We burst through it, ran outside the guild, and started fleeing.

All of us were crying. I ran while tears streamed down my face. Yajin had punched a noble. He had punched a noble.

Commoners are taught from childhood that nobles are special. By the time they grow up, they are drilled with the terror of a noble’s wealth, power, and magic.

For a commoner, standing up to a noble is equivalent to standing up to a dragon.

Yajin moved without the slightest hesitation, as casually as if he were going out for a walk nearby. He leapt lightly into the air and punched the noble away.

So that we would not worry. So that we would think it was no big deal.

But we knew. We knew how difficult it was for a commoner to strike a noble. He must have been terrified. He must have squeezed out every last bit of courage he had.

He crushed the fear welling up inside him, the conflict, everything, and punched the noble for our sake, becoming a decoy.

The pursuit of Yajin for striking a noble would be fierce. The domain army would likely be mobilized. There might be hope if we could escape the country, but it would be difficult.

Security along the highways and near the border would tighten. There was also a route to leave the country by crossing the mountains, but passing through monster territory while being chased by the domain army was close to impossible.

Most likely, Yajin…

Gonz and Kimon were running while crying as well. They probably understood too. Yajin would not survive.

The time we spent with Yajin was short. Thinking about how he staked his life to become a decoy for us, my tears overflowed.

To make sure his resolve was not wasted, we had to escape.

After running for a while, Kimon stopped. Gonz and I stopped as well.

“There’s no sign of pursuit,” after saying this, Kimon began heading back the way we had come. Was this really safe? I felt uneasy, but I trusted Kimon and followed him.

We returned to the guild by way of back alleys. There were no guards in sight. Had they all gone after Yajin?

“There’s no sign of guards. Let’s retrieve our belongings,” that was what Kimon said.

When we entered the guild, the corpse at the appraisal counter had been left as it was, and the tavern master stood there alone.

There were no onlookers. They must have been afraid of getting involved with nobles. The tavern master looked surprised when he saw us, but he did not shout for the guards or do anything like that.

If he did, Gonz would kill him. He would probably keep quiet until we left.

We returned to our room, quickly gathered our belongings, and prepared to leave the guild. Then Gonz spoke to the tavern master.

“Hey. This is for repairing the wall and for the trouble. Take it.”

Gonz tossed several gold coins to the tavern master. We would need money to flee, yet he really was troublesome.

Seeing Gonz unchanged even at a time like this calmed me a little.

We ran toward the slums. Even if we tried not to stand out, the huge Gonz inevitably drew attention. We prioritized speed and headed straight for the slums.

We encountered guards several times along the way, but Kimon shot their knees with arrows, robbing them of mobility. Somehow, we managed to reach the slums without being captured.

As soon as we arrived, the organization contacted us. Their response was as swift as ever. I was guided by the person who approached us and arrived at a high class brothel in the center of the slums.

This was always the place used when negotiating with the slum organization. Foot traffic was limited, and only tight lipped individuals with verified backgrounds came and went.

The brothel was heavily guarded by capable fighters. The walls of each room were thick to prevent sound from leaking, and the risk of eavesdropping was low.

Since coming to this town, I had discussed many schemes in this very place.

As party members of Yajin, the man who punched a noble, we were being pursued by the guards.

There was a possibility that the organization would detain us and hand us over to the guards. However, I believed that risk was low.

Although there was an agreement with the lord that criminals who fled into the slums would be handed over, that promise was never actually enforced.

It was an agreement made with mutual understanding, meant only to preserve appearances.

I was owed a favor by the slum organization. Even the underworld guild, a gathering of lawless people who ignored official law, had its own laws. An organization without rules would quickly collapse.

Every organization has its own laws. Precisely because it is a gathering of people who do not follow the law, it enforces its own rules rigorously.

Because it is a gathering of people who favor disorder, it must strictly enforce its own laws. It sounds contradictory, but that is how it works when people gather and form an organization.

The slum organization’s rules were simple. The boss’s orders were absolute. You did not oppose those above you. And debts must always be repaid.

Debts are repaid. Favors are returned as favors, grudges as grudges. You see things through in accordance with what you receive. It is obvious, yet many people are blinded by greed and fail to do so.

Those who do not keep faith cannot be trusted. Those who cannot be trusted rot an organization from the inside and lead it to collapse.

I was owed a favor by the slum organization. If they intended to keep faith, I was certain they would arrange our escape from the country.

As I was organizing my thoughts in the room I had been led to, a man entered.

“Al, I hear the guards are after you?” One of the executives, Henning, said with a smile.

“That’s right, Henning. Will you help us?” I answered a little playfully.

We had plotted many schemes together in this room. I could not trust him completely, but I believed we had built a reasonable relationship.

“If I recall, one of your party members punched a noble, right?”

“Yeah. He became a decoy so we could escape.”

“Heh. What a waste to keep someone like that on the straight path.”

While chatting with me, Henning suddenly wore a shocked expression. We had known each other for quite some time, but it was the first time I had seen that look on his face.

I turned my gaze in the direction Henning was staring. A single man stood there. A chill ran over my skin, and my hand instinctively reached for my sword.

He was slightly tall for a commoner, but of average height for an adventurer. Blond hair, brown eyes. An ordinary face you could find anywhere.

He had such an unremarkable appearance that no one would remember him even if he were at a banquet. Yet our entire party felt fear.

There had been no presence at all. Not the cautious me, not Gonz with his sharp senses, not Kimon the hunter. None of us noticed the man approaching this close.

“It’s been a while, Albrecht Kaufmann.”

Why did he know that name? Who was this man?

“That said, you wouldn’t recognize my face.”

A man who seemed to be anywhere, speaking naturally without tension. And yet I, Kimon, and even Gonz were overwhelmed by him.

“The shop you forced open during that compulsory inspection was mine.”

He said it casually, as if making small talk.

I felt as if my heart were being squeezed tight. Sweat I thought could not possibly increase any further poured from my entire body.

The underworld guild shop I had forcibly inspected. The target of the raid I used to fake my disappearance. Everyone who touched that shop had vanished.

How had I not realized it? The exact same method had been used. When the underworld guild executive who lost a power struggle came to Rock Cliff…

Before I knew it, my body was trembling. Despair seized my heart. The highest law of the underworld guild, the one that must be upheld above all else, was that the boss’ orders were absolute.

What did it matter that the organization owed me a favor? I was the man who caused him to flee to the Minor States. I understood that my life was over here.

I closed my eyes and switched my mindset in an instant. I gave up on my own life. I had to negotiate so that at least Gonz and Kimon, my companions, would survive.

I stood no chance by force. But if it was negotiation, I was confident I would not lose to anyone here in the Minor States. Saying I was not afraid would be a lie.

But I had seen it with my own eyes. A man who staked his life for his companions without calculation.

I should be able to do it too. Right, Yajin?

“Don’t be so frightened. I have no intention of killing you right now,” the man said with a flat, emotionless voice. During my time as a bureaucrat, I had spoken with many kinds of people, but I could remember only a handful whose emotions were as unreadable as this man’s.

He had no intention of killing me right now. Whether that was a lie or the truth was impossible to tell. Was he giving me hope before killing me, or did he mean I would not die immediately because he planned to torture me thoroughly first?

“I thought about killing you when you first came to this town. But when I saw a former elite bureaucrat scraping by as an adventurer in this garbage heap called Rock Cliff, I changed my mind. That was far more entertaining than killing you,” as he said this, the man let out a nasty grin.

“I figured I would erase you once you became an eyesore. But I never imagined you would come to us of your own accord. We are confident in violence, but many of us are terrible at paperwork. Everything you brought to us benefited the organization. As expected of a former elite bureaucrat.”

I could not see this man’s true intention. Why had he appeared? Why was he talking to me?

“You were useful. But once you lay a hand on a noble, that’s the end. You can’t stay in Rock Cliff anymore, can you? That means you’re no longer of use,” as he said this, the man released killing intent.

A terror, so cold it felt as if an ice stake had been driven into my heart, struck me. Even the bold Gonz had sweat on his brow, desperately fighting off fear.

“That said, I’m in your debt twice.”

The man raised two fingers.

“An efficient way to run the entire organization and the accompanying reform of its structure. A safe and stable transport route and inventory management method for our specialty product, weed. Those were things we couldn’t have done ourselves. You didn’t even take a proper reward, you made it a debt owed by our organization instead. A smart move.”

As he said that, the man contorted his face slightly. They had taken control of the slums, but governance of the slums they controlled had not been going well.

To be precise, it had not been run efficiently. After my leaking information of the guards and building a certain level of trust, Henning had come to me for advice.

I had told him it would be faster to rebuild the organization from the ground up and drafted a proposal using the bureaucratic system of the Megad Empire as a reference.

Hoping it might be of some use, I had drawn up an organizational chart and handed it to Henning. The boss had liked the proposal and formally adopted it, asking for my cooperation.

Would there not have been backlash against adopting a plan devised by an outsider like me? When I had asked that, Henning’s answer was, “The boss’ orders are absolute.”

It had taken considerable effort, but the slum organization was streamlined. They had then offered me a substantial reward, but if I accepted it, I would have been absorbed into the organization.

At the time, I had liked the sweet toxin of slow decay and did not want to be drawn in. Instead of money, I had chosen to make it a debt.

The other debt was systematizing the smuggling of the drug called weed. When dried leaves are smoked in a pipe, it apparently produces euphoria and intoxication.

In the past, a great power had been destroyed by drugs, and cultivation was banned in every country.

In Rock Cliff, various plants and herbs were grown as spices. Mixed in among them, weed was cultivated and smuggled into other countries.

Demand for weed came from royalty and nobility across the nations, so arrangements were made at borders and checkpoints. It should never have been confiscated.

Yet due to some miscommunication, or perhaps because some wanted to seize it without paying for it, it was being confiscated with alarming frequency.

To prevent such troubles, I proposed creating an organization to handle inventory management and logistics.

Thanks to that organization, confiscations of weed nearly disappeared, and enormous profits flowed in.

At that time as well, I was about to be given a large reward, but I turned it into another debt.

“I was kicked out of the underworld guild a long time ago. And seeing you fall even lower than me eased my bitterness a bit. In the end, it was my own lack of strength. Your forced inspection was only the trigger. So we’ll cancel one debt.”

As he said this, the man lowered one of the two raised fingers.

“I’ll arrange your escape from the country via Forest. That makes two.”

He withdrew his killing intent and lowered the second finger.

The killing intent vanished, and I hurriedly drew in a breath. I had forgotten to breathe under the pressure of it. I was saved. The matter was settled with no debts remaining.

Even the slum boss, it seemed, abided by the organization’s laws.

Or rather, precisely because he was the boss, he had to show that he strictly upheld them.

I had also secured a way to escape the country. I felt relieved, but at that moment something caught my attention.

An escape with no debts outstanding, everything neatly resolved. Then why had this man, the slum boss, appeared before me in person?

To voice his resentment over the forced inspection? To show those around him that he had properly repaid his debts? Why would a boss who had vanished from the public stage go out of his way to appear?

He said the debts were repaid. That was it. He was showing everyone that he had strictly followed the organization’s laws. My heartbeat began to pound.

I was a fool. He was the slum boss, the apex of criminals. Why had I let my guard down? Threaten first, then speak kindly. A classic underworld tactic.

I had no debts with him, and I was leaving Rock Cliff. As he said, I had no remaining value. Most likely, I would be assassinated after crossing the border.

You cannot eliminate someone who is owed a debt. But someone with no debts and no value is a different matter. He said the debt from the forced inspection was canceled, but reasons could always be added afterward.

Even if it was a bit heavy handed, he would erase someone with no debts and no value. No one would doubt the boss.

This was bad. Not just me, but Gonz and Kimon were also in danger of being erased. We had seen the boss’s face.

He had intended to kill us from the start. That was why he showed his face. He demonstrated to everyone that he had not broken the organization’s laws. All that remained was to let us cross the border as promised and then erase us.

Most likely, I would be thoroughly tortured and turned into meat dishes in the slums. This was bad. Was there something, anything?

Henning was talking about arrangements for crossing the border, but none of it reached my ears. Something, anything.

At that moment, a conversation with Yajin flashed through my mind. Yajin, who said he was bad with alcohol, had been unusually drunk.

It was when he had been drinking out of frustration, saying that the high class brothel was more expensive than expected, and that with his distinctive appearance, he would never be able to sleep with a high class courtesan.

At the guild tavern, Yajin saw a man smoking weed in a pipe and said,

“So you have tobacco here too.”

“What’s tobacco, Yajin?”

“Huh? Isn’t that tobacco? Or is it just called something else here? Translation cheat, do your job.”

Yajin sometimes said incomprehensible things. He said they were words from his roots, the language of his grandmother’s homeland.

“Tobacco is dried leaves. You roll them in paper or put them in a pipe, light them, and enjoy inhaling the smoke.”

“Oh, you mean weed.”

“Weed? Does it happen to have leaves shaped like this?”

As he said that, Yajin dipped his finger into his mug of ale and drew a picture on the table with the ale.

“Yeah, that shape is right.”

“Huh, so it’s called weed here too.”

“In the past, weed spread everywhere and a great power that nearly unified the Minor States collapsed, so it’s banned in every country.”

“But that old guy is smoking it right in front of us.”

“Well, these are the Minor States. And this area, the County of Megan, is a production region.”

“Can’t argue with that. Still, if you smoke the leaves, why is it called weed?”

“What do you mean, Yajin?”

“Leaves don’t have much of the active stuff. They don’t feel that good.”

“Then what do you smoke besides weed?”

“Buds. Buds.”

“Buds?”

Cornered, I recalled that conversation with Yajin.

“It seems things are settled. I’ll take my leave now.”

The slum boss turned to leave.

“Wait. Please wait.”

“What is it?”

The boss stopped and turned toward me.

“I have a proposal that will benefit you.”

“Suddenly? You sound like a swindler.”

“There’s something that feels better than weed. It brings several times the pleasure,” when I said that, the look in the boss’ eyes changed.

“With this, you can earn far more than before. You can control pleasure obsessed kings and nobles at your whim. Is it really enough to remain just the boss of a slum in a town like this? If you set your mind to it, you could rule this country, even the small nation states, from the shadows.”

“I’m not an impatient man. But if you keep talking like you’re looking down on me, you’re going to regret it.”

The boss directed his killing intent at me. Either way, if things continued like this, I would be killed. Being bathed in killing intent would not kill me by itself. I glared back at the boss and continued speaking.

“It’s the truth. What will you do? Will you hear me out? Or will you decide it’s a lie, reject the best proposal you’ll ever get, and kill me?”

The boss and I glared at each other for a while. Then the boss said, “Explain it in detail.”

“Very well. But it counts as one debt.”

“So you noticed, did you? Damn, you really are annoyingly capable, Mr. Elite.”

You cannot kill someone who holds a debt.

And so, without having my life taken, I obtained a means to leave the country.

The smuggling organization I proposed would carry us along with its cargo of weed, using the routes I designed.

We were accompanied by skilled adventurers as guards, and even the patrols along the roads said nothing. There were barely any inspections when entering towns, and we passed straight through the border inspection.

Every time the guards inspected the cargo, Gonz and the others looked anxious. But I knew it would be fine. The dull journey, swaying in the carriage, made me drowsy.

Almost anticlimactically, we slipped out of the country with ease.

Gonz and Kimon did not understand my exchange with the slum boss at all, but because my negotiation had allowed us to cross the border so easily, they looked at me with respect.

In truth, it was only because I had been saved by Yajin’s knowledge at the critical moment. I thought that, but there was no way they would understand if I tried to explain it.

You saved my life twice. Thank you, Yajin. I hope you stay safe.