Chapter 293 |
[I'll give you ten days. There are two conditions I want.]
Rumble!!
The footsteps of the mobile fortress were endlessly slow, yet overwhelmingly powerful.
It was utterly unreal that this massive fortress, built solely to maintain the entire frontline, possessed mobility.
[The transfer of the city's budget management authority held by the city council. The ownership of Restricted Zone 13, designated as a closed zone. If you do not accept these two conditions, I will take the lives of Balkan citizens as payment.]
Whirrr!!
At that moment, the camera feed switched abruptly, shifting in an instant to a dizzyingly high vantage point.
The landscape of the megacity, viewed from remote heights far above human sight.
From that distant aerial perspective, the old man's final words continued.
Click!
With those words, the video cut off, and a deathly silence descended over the conference room.
"Madness..."
Someone's quiet murmur captured the feelings of everyone who had just watched the footage.
To demand the lives of Balkan citizens as collateral if their demands weren't met—what kind of statement was this from the defense force command?
It was an extreme negotiation bordering on terrorism, not the words of soldiers.
Though the defense force had endured steady cuts to its budget and personnel, holding civilian lives hostage and staging a rebellion was a response that defied all common sense.
"Indeed, madness."
Meyer picked up the thread.
"The operational response team assembled by the city government interprets this statement as indiscriminate bombing of the Districts 30s."
"..."
"The residential districts where most of Balkan citizens live. The variable expressway, equipped with the city's thickest and strongest distribution network to match that population. If even a portion collapses, the city's traffic and supply distribution will plunge into immediate chaos."
The room fell silent as the implications sank in.
The defense force was truly intent on launching a coup against the megacity, carrying out all this for that purpose.
Meyer scanned the silent faces and picked up the microphone again.
"Those gathered here today are individuals who have built reputations and influence even in the outer districts, close to lawless zones, by earning trust and guarantees in their dealings."
"..."
Meyer, flattering the group just enough, continued.
"You've come here despite knowing it was a summons from a city councilor because you possess sufficient ability and credit to carve out your own domains in this city, unbound by the binding edict."
With skilled oratory, he swept his gaze across the room and emphasized his point.
"One time is enough. I promise, under the government's auspices, just one act of cooperation."
Renok subtly shifted his gaze to gauge the room's mood.
Criminals, freelancers, gang members. Businesspeople, brokers, mercenaries... The identities and affiliations varied, but none showed resentment toward Meyer's words.
That was likely because Meyer had meticulously screened for rebels from the start, selecting only those amenable to the call.
The preparations to dominate the conference room's atmosphere had been complete from the outset.
All that remained was to ride the flowing mood and promise them compensation and trust.
Almost simultaneously with Renok's thoughts, Meyer drove the point home, instilling conviction in them.
"Then, staking my councilor position, I promise fitting compensation and privileges to all who step forward for this matter."
*
"Is this sufficient?"
"What do you mean?"
Meyer had finished his piece and stepped out briefly, offering time for thought.
Those who knew each other exchanged quiet opinions, while solos pondered in silence.
Panoa, gazing out the conference room window at the distant streetscape, whispered to Renok.
"The proposal is too vague to commit right away. The council side has shown too few cards yet."
"..."
Panoa stroked her chin and muttered.
"I thought, since we'd come with the council's endorsement, they'd bring something more enticing."
"What do you plan to do?"
"We intend to cooperate regardless of the offer."
Panoa answered promptly.
"Since we're already dipping into the legitimate sector with our industrial machinery business, it's hard to refuse the city council's request. Even if it means some loss, we must maintain good long-term relations."
"..."
"If we succeed in stopping the defense force's coup, a significant share of the megacity's military supply contracts will come our way. The expected returns alone make it worthwhile."
"No matter how it plays out, it's a gain for the corporation..."
Renok didn't want the defense force's mobile fortress to turn the city's outskirts into a wasteland either.
The supply distribution business led by Jenny relied entirely on shadow sector networks.
If the mobile fortress abandoned its mission and advanced into the city, disruptions to operations were inevitable, whether welcome or not.
However, Renok had no intention of handling a matter tied directly to the city's safety for cheap.
Everyone here understood the necessity, yet likely harbored doubts about the compensation.
Just how much would the city council pay to enlist these shadow outlaws?
This could set a precedent or template for future dealings with councilors, making it more important than it seemed.
In this line of work, altering an established rate required blood or money in equal measure.
At that moment, a giant with bronze skin approached Renok and rapped the table.
A bald man with curly tattoos snaking across his scalp, an impressive sight.
Staring down at Renok, he spoke in a deep voice.
"Firm Thunder, was it? Mind if we talk briefly?"
"...Sure."
No sooner had Renok spoken than the man pulled a chair and sat opposite.
"I'm Donovan White. I run a small hardware store in District 46."
"A hardware store."
For the owner of one of the shadow sector's largest and most solid gunpowder depots, it was an unduly modest claim.
Ignoring Renok's reaction, the man continued.
"I've heard a lot about you. They say you're one of the most capable freelancers in this scene."
"..."
"A saint-class mage at the 7th level... You killed a defrocked monk from the cartel and earned an outside director position. You're likely the strongest here by far."
"What are you getting at?"
Renok fixed his gaze on the golden zone marker visible behind the man.
Startled slightly by the intense stare, the man glanced back, then said with a puzzled expression.
"...I'd like you to join this operation."
"..."
"For someone like you, the outcome won't matter much, but it's different for us. If the conflict between the defense force and city government escalates, it'll disrupt our businesses in every way. Folks like us can't weather that kind of loss easily."
Renok looked up, surveying the room.
In the now-quiet conference room, everyone had turned toward them.
As Panoa cleared her throat awkwardly, the man pressed on.
"We intend to cede all our compensation to you. If it's not enough, we'll pool funds separately. Many here think the same. It'd amount to a considerable sum."
"You've already coordinated informally, it seems."
"Most are merchants like me. We moonlight as freelancers to survive, but we know that in situations like this, one reliable individual outweighs a hesitant crowd."
"..."
Only then did Renok realize the source of the awkwardness in the man's proposal.
Those summoned by Meyer were relatively clean operators and freelancers with traceable histories and straightforward dealings.
Unlike the madmen, outlaws, or irrational criminals Renok had encountered, these were rational thinkers.
Unlike those quick to pick fights or draw guns before handshakes, the man's offer was eminently reasonable and grounded.
"Hmm..."
"It'll take at least half a year to lift the binding edict entirely, at minimum."
The man continued, as if sensing Renok's dilemma.
Legitimate powerhouses didn't endure the binding edict's inconveniences for nothing.
The city government's budget to win over high-level mana users was enormous.
Those at the 7th level and above—core targets of the edict—received noble-like treatment.
Priority access to all facilities and secrets, massive monthly stipends, central district residency perks, and first dibs on luxuries were hard to relinquish.
Without reason to forgo such privileges or if already established in the shadows, the edict's constraints went unnoticed.
The sole obligation was not to damage government property.
But now, those leashes on high espers had become hindrances in reverse.
"To ignore the binding edict across the board, the city would need to declare martial law akin to wartime. The economic losses would be immense. The council doesn't want that, so they're calling us to handle it."
"You know the binding edict inside out."
Renok's eyes sharpened.
"Have you worked on that side?"
"..."
Donovan and Renok's gazes crossed swiftly.
Renok realized the man's identity and nodded.
'A plant, huh.'
Meyer hadn't left without a plan after his speech.
He'd planted Donovan beforehand to approach Renok, swaying the others' judgments by showing the proposal.
The strategy was to shower Renok with compensation for his participation while getting the rest to work for less.
Donovan's bold offer made it convincing, underscoring the crisis's severity and urgency.
Likely, even Renok spotting the ploy was calculated.
'Still as cunning as ever. Should I accept?'
Meyer never intended to underpay Renok from the start.
Instead, he'd funneled the limited budget to Renok while maneuvering to enlist the others for free from behind the scenes.
Before the sudden silence could sour the mood, Donovan wrapped up quickly.
"...With the shadow bow absent, you're the only one we can trust for this. Please. I'm ready to stake my pot on you."
It wasn't wrong, ultimately.
The megacity had its share of hierarchy masters, but most were tied to interest groups or the binding edict.
Renok was virtually unique as a freelancer unbound by affiliation or faction.
That very status made the situation and proposal credible.
Those watching nodded one by one.
"Not wrong. If the defense force truly wages full war on the city, there'll be no jobs left, money or not."
"Big outfits like the cartel or citadels are tied up internally... We'll just take the hit at this rate."
"Fine... If Firm Thunder joins, I'll offer some of my share too."
How far did Meyer's influence reach?
As a few broke the silence with their stances, others quickly nodded in agreement.
Just as the room's attendees coalesced their views toward Renok—
"I can't agree to that proposal."
A cool female voice echoed from the conference room's corner.
"..."
A haughty tone laced with potent mana.
That resolute will drew every head in the room at once.
To infuse such intent into mere words required considerable power—sharp enough that one couldn't commit to battle without resolve.
A woman in pristine white formal attire, her hair gleaming with an otherworldly sheen.
Arms crossed, leaning back in her chair without even glancing their way, she spoke again.