Chapter 42. The Smell of Money (2)
The Loracus price spike might have seemed natural. I mean, the tulip craze wasn’t cooked up by anyone deliberately. Scams and losses coming out of abnormal market swings were par for the course.
‘But all these epic scams that usually show up every few decades hitting at once in the modern era?’
This wasn’t your average situation.
Someone with major ill intentions was messing with the market.
And it wasn’t just a couple of merchants brainstorming some scheme.
‘Could there be another soul out there like me, possessed by some spirit?’
Isaac toyed with the idea but quickly brushed it off. He was taken over by the Nameless Chaos for a reason – for achieving all endings with eight faiths, without counting the Nameless one. It wouldn’t make sense for someone else to swoop in now.
‘So, some divine intervention, perhaps?’
Seemed like the most likely explanation.
In that case, the shadiest character around was definitely the Golden Idol.
After seeing how shady the dealings of the Golden Idol Merchant Guild were, Isaac knew they weren’t exactly winning “Best Business Practices” awards. Fair trade was just a small piece of their sketchy puzzle.
Caitlin seemed totally clueless, but the leadership decisions and the grunts’ viewpoints in the gang could be worlds apart.
If that was the case, Isaac might have unintentionally stumbled into a messy inner conflict.
“I gotta think through all the scenarios and play my cards right,” Isaac thought to himself.
Isaac glanced back at the guys.
“Where’d you score that Loracus coin?” he asked.
“Why you wanna know?” quipped a voice that definitely wasn’t one of the guys.
***
When Isaac turned to face the voice, he saw a one-eyed lady peering down at him from a second-story window, surrounded by an uptick in the homeless and beggars milling around. Among the rags, Isaac caught sight of gleaming blades.
Isaac cocked his head and shot back, “Don’t you know how to treat a guest?”
“If you’re looking for coins, try those dudes. We ain’t in the small sales game. Everything goes through official channels,” the one-eyed lady said with a knowing smirk.
Out of the blue, the alley’s exit got blocked by the homeless folks’ makeshift barricades.
The guys chatting with Isaac realized the score and froze, trying to flee but were hemmed in by the glaring eyes of the homeless, signaling that they weren’t here to dole out coins directly.
“Did you off that Golden Idol Merchant Guild member?” Isaac questioned.
“Don’t have a clue. Why not ask ’em yourself? They’re likely singing with the angels or chilling in the underworld,” one of the guys nonchalantly replied.
At the one-eyed lady’s signal, the homeless mob advanced.
Isaac, picking up on her vibe, recognized these folks as straight-up wild. Only savages don’t take the afterlife seriously. And true to form, as Isaac readied his sword, the assailants ditched direct confrontation and hurled wired-up rags his way – not the run-of-the-mill kind, but sturdy enough to fend off sword slashes.
In a flash, Isaac found himself tangled up in a mess, as archers from above and between the buildings let fly their shafts.
Thud, thud.
The bundle of rags morphed into a pincushion in no time. As arrows sunk in effortlessly, one of the homeless shot the one-eyed lady a glance.
“Keep going?” he silently asked.
She nodded, maintaining her guard. The homeless then grabbed spears hidden among the trash and impaled the tangled rags. Watching the chaos unfold, the one-eyed lady wore a slight scowl.
“That was too easy,” she remarked.
She had tangled with Golden Idol Merchant Guild moles before, but the stakes seemed higher now that they’d enlisted a Grail Knight. She had rallied every person she could and crafted an elaborate trap. Winning wasn’t unexpected, but it felt too straightforward.
“For all the hype, he seems kinda underwhelming,” she noted.
“Who’s there?” a voice suddenly called out, leaving the one-eyed lady stunned. She tried to turn her head, but the heavy air and the tang of blood kept her rooted in place.
“I knew you’d show up here,” the voice declared.
The woman with one eye could sense the eerie presence looming over her, something towering almost 2 to 3 meters tall, just by the way it felt behind her and the sound of its voice. This strange entity, trying to sound human, held something sharp—whether bone or blade—beneath her chin.
“Whoa, hold up,” she said, throwing her hands up. The homeless folks attacking her backed off, retracting their spears. Seeing the blood-soaked rags around Isaac, they assumed he was done for. But as they went to move the net and take out the body, the rags turned back to their original color, clean as new.
Before the homeless could react in shock, Isaac’s sword pierced through the rags, striking a nearby vagrant. Isaac stood there without a scratch, not a single wound on him.
‘This Red Prayer thing really comes in handy…’ he thought.
This power was a little gift he got after snacking on Heinkel Gullmar.
Nullifying physical attacks was super helpful in dodging ambushes like this. He could’ve vanished using Red Petition when wrapped in those rags and counterattacked, but that would expose his misty transformation ability. And that would mean having to take out everyone there.
‘Not the best plan.’
He was on a noble quest as a Grail Knight; he couldn’t have rumors of bloodshed trailing him.
So, instead of a bloodbath, Isaac opted to make some examples.
He shoved one vagrant into another, sending them both tumbling. The archers aimed again, but Isaac was quick, striking another homeless person with his sword.
He only stopped once his sword hit another target. Limbs and heads flew with each swing. The vagrants’ screams never ceased, no breaks or glances exchanged.
Even the tough bandits couldn’t keep cool faced with Isaac’s systematic killing spree.
“Boss, help!”
Pleads filled the air. Isaac looked up at a window on the second floor, locking eyes with the one-eyed woman who seemed frozen in the dark room.
As she tried to speak, she was abruptly thrown downstairs, landing in a pile of trash with a thud.
Coughing out filthy water, she raised her head slightly to meet Isaac’s chilling gaze.
Isaac, mentally thanking Zihilrat’s eerie red eyes on the upper floor before he vanished back into the shadows, refocused on the woman. Zihilrat, at home in damp underground spots, had blended in perfectly.
“I give up, I give up. Please…”
The woman hurriedly surrendered to Isaac. In response, he sliced off her right hand, prompting another scream.
“Surrendering was a good call… But did you really think you’d get away without some pain while your crew bit the dust?”
Truly suffering, the one-eyed woman nodded fervently, the smell of burning flesh wafting in the air. The Judgment Sword’s effect caused the flesh and blood of her barbarian body to burn to ashes. Her hand, now charred black around the wrist, had to be amputated.
“I’m not cutting off your tongue because there are still many questions. So every time you hide something from me, I’ll cut off the useless parts of you, and finally, I’ll cut off your tongue.”
***
The name of the one-eyed woman was Jacquette. Surprisingly, she was quite open in telling her story.
She came from across the northern sea, abandoning her beliefs because of long and complicated stories, and bringing her subordinates because of the current difficulties in making a living. Isaac learned more irrelevant details than he cared to know.
Isaac considered these unimportant stories as attempts to divert from the main topic and also stabbed his left hand. Only then could he steer the conversation towards the heart of the matter.
“Who sold them?”
“Yukhar Leven is a noble!”
As the judgment sword hung in front of the remaining eye of Jacquette, she screamed the man’s name in desperation.
It’s neither strange nor strange that Jacquette and her Barbary gang were hired by someone named Yukhar. After all, mercenaries remain mercenaries when paid, and bandits when there’s no payment.
That’s why truly professional mercenaries are respected.
“Tell me about Yukhar Leven.”
Yukhar Leven, a noble, is a big name in Seor’s black market.
He makes money through various immoral means, from usury taxes to smuggling, black market deals, and handling stolen goods, using his title as a noble. They say nothing in Seor’s black market happens without his involvement.
The problem is, after the Loracus incident, this Yukhar expanded his business to multi-level marketing and Ponzi schemes, even involving coin schemes, draining all the money from beneath Seor.
According to Jacquette’s story, even beggars in poor settlements have one or two Loracus coins, hoping their value will soar along with Loracus prices.
In the end, Yukhar sold imaginary Loracus.
“If he operates on such a scale, surely the Turn of the Golden Idol Merchant already knows.”
Isaac paused for a moment, then asked.
“Why did Yukhar buy all the Loracus entering Seor?”
“What?”
Isaac pressed the judgment sword against Jacquette’s left hand, causing it to tremble in fear.
“No, no! I don’t understand the question! Yukhar, I mean! He bought so many Loracus, but from what I know, it’s not an unusually large amount!”
“Not much?”
The amount Isaac heard from Jacquette was indeed ‘insignificant.’ Although it might seem like a lot to ordinary people, it’s small for a syndicate, and small compared to the amount of Loracus handled by the Golden Idol.
‘So who bought the Loracus?’
The conclusion is strange but clear.
The true flower enthusiasts bought it.
And many fools hoped the price of Loracus would keep rising.
Most likely, the majority of Loracus is held by ‘investors’ who struggle to sell it because the price of Loracus increases every day. Meanwhile, Yukhar collects money through various scams amidst the distortion of prices.
In the end, Yukhar wasn’t after the Loracus itself, but the chaos and buzz it created. They didn’t care what it was, as long as it caused a stir and shook up the prices.
‘Caitlin would be shaking her head at this.’
Sure, there were other things to think about too. Like whether the Golden Idol Merchant Guild was really staying out of the whole mess.
While Yukhar was up to all sorts of shady stuff to make a buck, the ones raking in the most were the Golden Idol Merchant Guild, hoarding all that Loracus.
“Something’s fishy…”
Isaac sensed that something wasn’t right. He was trying to figure out who was buying up all the Loracus. It was obvious that Yukhar was profiting from the chaos the Loracus caused, but they weren’t exactly out there buying it up.
But it was a sure thing that someone from the Golden Idol Merchant Guild had poked their nose into Yukhar’s business and paid the price for it. And Yukhar was definitely tied to the Loracus distribution.
The nitty-gritty details could be sorted out face-to-face. But it wasn’t going to be a cozy chat, that’s for sure.
Isaac glanced down at Jacquette and declared,
“I gotta have a word with that dude.”
