Chapter 401
Episode 401 – For Your Master
Vooom—
With the chilling sound of a fist swinging through the air, Arthur stepped back, letting out an awkward chuckle.
Had he dodged even a moment later, he would have been hit.
Fenry’s eyes were dead serious.
"Are you really going to hit me?"
"If you did something stupid, you deserve to get hit."
"Me? What stupid thing did I do??"
"Wasting money."
Judging by her reaction, it seemed she'd heard about the massive defensive wall to be built in the city of vagrants.
He was sure her eyes had flipped when she heard the estimate was hundreds of millions of gold.
"Could you please put your fist down?"
"Shut up. A wall, you say? Why are you burning money on something so useless?"
"To protect the allied forces, of course."
"With a wall?"
At Arthur’s answer, Fenry scoffed. She bit down on her pipe, exhaled a long trail of smoke, then raised her fist again and said,
"You really think a thing like that can stop monsters like the Sword Demon or Clarke?"
"It’s not meant to stop them."
"The mages of Demtor? The Sword Demon’s shadow stars? Same goes for them. No matter how high you build a physical wall, it’s useless."
"But it’s not like we can install a magic formation across the entire wall, can we?"
"Of course not! Are you insane?!"
Trying to lay magic formations across that vast wall might force the entire alliance to live off weeds.
Arthur quickly shook his head before he really got hit.
"It’s not for them, either."
"Then why build it? It’s a waste of money, isn’t it?"
"Let’s just say… it’s a defense wall built with the worst-case scenario in mind."
"Worst-case? A defense wall? What could that thing even stop?"
"For now, it’s just speculation, so I can’t say anything for certain..."
Arthur looked troubled as he thought. The surviving main villains.
Arthur knew of some potential disasters they might cause, so he felt the need to prepare for the worst.
Especially the Spider Queen, Azolett.
The fact that she had survived in Prime Root was a painful truth.
The “Cricket Legion” she would later lead would become a catastrophic calamity capable of erasing Hell Grime itself.
But trying to convince Fenry with something that hadn’t happened yet would be foolish.
"It’s for the sake of the World Tree."
"The World Tree? You’re building a wall all the way from the city of vagrants for that?"
"Yes. It can buy us time against the enemy."
"That’s hundreds of millions of gold! Burning that much on a prediction is insane."
"If not for Azonne’s fortune, we wouldn’t have even attempted it."
"And what are you planning to do with my money???"
"Why is it your money, Fenry?"
"Finders keepers. Isn’t that how it works?"
"You’ll be punished, you know."
"Before that happens, you’ll probably die by my hand first. And what’s this about a massive festival? A celebration for the whole alliance? Are you planning to blow all of Azonne’s money like it’s free?"
Arthur let out a quiet breath and looked at Fenry. She was brimming with discontent. Was there no other way?
"Why do you try to earn money, Fenry?"
"Because I’ll need it someday."
"That someday is now."
"Now?"
"Yes. Now."
Fenry was particularly sensitive about money, but her miserly nature had its reasons. The reason she hoarded money so obsessively—
"There are things you can’t buy, even with tens or hundreds of billions in gold. Do you know what those are?"
"As if something like that exists..."
"The safety of the Elves."
"If we don’t pour money in now, even if we stack gold into a mountain, we might miss the window. Time... we don’t have much left."
Arthur walked toward the window, where a cool breeze was blowing in.
He closed the wide-open door and checked on Lily—she was still softly snoring in her sleep.
After all that commotion, she was still sleeping soundly. Seeing her like that, Arthur smiled gently, then turned to Fenry and began explaining what had happened.
A short while later, understanding the meaning behind the festival, Fenry gave a bitter smile.
"I was happy thinking I could skim off a big pile of money, but forget it. Damn it all."
"You were planning to skim money?"
"I figured no one would notice if I siphoned off 1 or 2 billion gold."
Is this what it feels like to leave fish with a cat? Fortunately, he’d stopped it before it happened.
"In the Black Market’s vaults, there’s everything—from gold coins to gems, resources, and land deeds. Based on estimates, each vault is worth around 300 to 500 million gold."
"You scraped up quite a lot."
Arthur clicked his tongue at the amount. How many Black Market vaults had he seen in the novel? Maybe ten, give or take…
"There are 22 confirmed locations."
"...Huh?"
"The number might increase by the end of today. Do you think I asked the ghosts for reinforcements for nothing? If they hadn’t come, it would’ve taken a lot longer."
At least 22 locations…
If Fenry’s estimates were combined, the total would be an unimaginable sum.
Is that the total of Azonne’s wealth and the Black Market’s assets?
Either way, it was very encouraging. It meant Arthur could now execute his plans with far more certainty. Money couldn’t buy everything, but if he poured all the wealth he currently had into it, even the impossible might become possible.
How had she interpreted his smile?
Fenry hesitated with her pipe between her teeth, then asked Arthur,
"With this money... the safety of the Elves—is it guaranteed?"
To that, Arthur let out a quiet laugh.
"While we’re at it, why not broaden your heart a little? Is it only the Elves whose safety matters? What about the others?"
"They’ll figure it out on their own."
"You never disappoint. Truly impressive."
"...What did you say?"
Dodging Fenry’s swinging fist, Arthur walked over to the decorative bookshelf.
There sat a small crystal orb.
Arthur picked it up.
It was the communication crystal he had received during his first meeting with Black Market Executive No. 1. It seemed it was finally time to use it.
***
A luxurious mansion built for the VIPs of Aintrier.
Located not far from the Prime Root borderlands, the grand mansion received new guests.
Four in total—they were known as Black Market Executives No. 1, 2, 3, and 4.
Though it was late at night, the four of them casually arrived one by one in carriages and entered the mansion.
Ever since Arthur had given them VIP access, the executives would visit this mansion and enjoy luxurious gatherings whenever they held meetings.
Perhaps that’s why their expressions as they walked the corridors looked quite relaxed.
The attendants guided them to the reception room, where a lavish feast had been prepared.
As if accustomed to it, the executives ordered rare liquors from the attendants and began enjoying the banquet.
"No. 1, what’s the occasion? Isn’t it still some time before our regular meeting?"
Unlike the relaxed other executives, No. 1—who had called them—looked slightly tense.
"The Lord has requested a meeting with us."
"The Lord? You mean Arthur?"
No. 1 nodded and pulled the crystal orb from his pocket.
"He contacted me around dinner, saying there’s something important he wants to discuss."
"Where exactly?"
"Did you forget who owns this mansion? The news must have reached him. He’ll appear soon."
"Ah..."
At that, the relaxed mood instantly turned tense.
Why would Arthur suddenly want to meet them?
"Why do you think he called us?"
"I haven’t been told. We’ll have to see him in person to find out..."
"Could it be he’s come to pay the balance from our last request?"
Shares in Aintrier, Black Market intel, military force, even the witches—
The executives had provided everything the alliance needed and completed the last deal without issue.
All that remained was for Arthur to deliver the remaining amount on the blank check the Master had issued.
"I believe we already moved part of the payment to the vaults, didn’t we?"
"It’s all been moved."
"How much?"
At No. 2’s question, No. 1’s expression hardened.
"To ask the amount—clearly, with the Master gone, discipline is falling apart. Do you want to die by the Master’s hand?"
At No. 1’s reaction, the atmosphere chilled. But only briefly—No. 1 let out a quiet sigh.
He too was shaken by the Master’s absence. If this continued, No. 1 would have no choice but to align himself with the other executives.
"Since Azonne’s hidden wealth from dozens of Hell Grime locations was sent, confirming the exact amount will take time. Most of it has been moved to our vaults."
It was best not to cause unnecessary friction.
Thanks to No. 1’s answer, the other executives visibly relaxed.
"Most of it, huh… If just that portion is worth so much, the total must be enormous."
"If he gives us the remaining payment too..."
The executives swallowed dryly. They were starting to question whether this amount was something any single organization should possess.
But the expression of No. 1—who held responsibility over this colossal sum—wasn’t bright.
"There’s something bothering me."
"Bothering you? What do you mean?"
"According to the contract, Arthur must deliver the balance directly to the Master. If he called this meeting because he couldn’t reach the Master..."
"He might ask about the Master’s whereabouts."
"That would be a problem. We don’t know either."
The four fell silent.
It had been quite some time, and still no word from the Master. Though careful, even they had begun considering the Master’s disappearance.
Still, they only watched each other warily.
They avoided mentioning it outright as much as possible.
The Black Market was a sprawling network—if even one part collapsed, the damage would be immense.
"If they realize we’ve lost contact..."
"We have to hide it as best we can."
"For now, let’s hear what the Lord has to say, and think about our next step..."
Just then—
"What’s with the gloomy faces? Having such serious talks?"
"Oh, you’ve arrived!"
With Arthur’s sudden appearance, the executives quickly rose to greet him.
It was their second meeting since the first.
"Have you all been well?"
"Thanks to you, Lord, we’ve been treated well and living in luxury. The food here is so superb, it’s hard to eat anywhere else now."
"I hear they’re the top chefs of Aintrier. I’m even considering bringing them back to the castle."
"A sad day for us, then."
Now that a solid alliance had formed between the two factions, Arthur and the executives exchanged greetings in a cordial, relaxed atmosphere.
Arthur turned to No. 2, who handled information.
"The Ivory Tower Alliance has reported receiving significant help thanks to Black Market intel. Thank you for your assistance."
"We only fulfilled our end of the deal with the Tower Master. However..."
"However?"
"It’s becoming difficult to keep supporting the Ivory Tower. Black Tower Lord Gram seems to have caught on and has begun interfering with the Black Market. Our branches inside Demtor are now at risk of being shut down..."
"Survival matters most. Please continue to help as long as it doesn’t bring harm."
"Thank you for understanding."
"Um..."
At that moment, No. 3, who had been standing nearby, raised a hand. He was the executive in charge of Black Market's military forces.
"I’ve prepared the Black Market elite as per our previous agreement, but I hadn’t heard back. When should we expect to deploy?"
An elite unit comprised of Rank 1–2 warriors of the Hundred. Arthur had secured command over them for one year, though he hadn’t used them yet.
However, he had already decided who would lead them.
Elton.
Having reached Rank 5, he would be able to carry out critical missions with them.
"I’ll contact you once the one to lead them arrives. It won’t take long."
"Understood."
Once most of the key points had been addressed, No. 1 glanced around and cautiously asked Arthur,
"May we hear the reason you called us here?"
"Ah, in checking in with you all, I forgot to bring up the important matter."
Arthur smiled, lifted the wine glass from the table, and brought it near his nose.
Though not well-versed in alcohol, even he could tell the expensive liquor had a unique scent.
He didn’t drink it, but raised the glass and looked around at the executives.
"Before we begin, shall we offer a toast of remembrance? A drink for the fallen."
"A remembrance? For whom?"
At their puzzled expressions, Arthur smiled and spoke:
"For your Master."
“…”