[140]
The shoemaker suddenly raised his head at those words.
In front of him was Peter. Their locksmith.
The last card they kept in reserve for when crisis struck the Barrel Society.
Their joker.
“P-Peter.”
Peter Garrett.
The teleportation ability user that the Barrel Society possessed had appeared.
As soon as he realized this, a thrill spread through the shoemaker’s mind.
“T-take me away from here. Hurry! Before it’s too late!”
With Peter’s ability, they could escape even if those ice picks were blocking the way.
He pulled the shoemaker into the “door” he had opened.
There wasn’t even a question about why things had turned out this way. From the beginning, Peter Garrett was someone who would always dedicate himself to members of the Barrel Society.
‘I thought his ability was too valuable to waste.’
Considering his own position, it was fortunate that Peter was using his ability this way.
An ability like Peter’s was a great advantage when transporting goods. If he had wanted to, it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to become a shoemaker instead of a locksmith.
After completely crossing through the black door, the shoemaker swallowed hard as he felt the cool sensation against his feet.
‘I didn’t even realize I lost a shoe while escaping.’
Only after relief seeped in could the shoemaker check his surroundings.
He was standing in a familiar underground waterway. The path that normally led to the chamber where the flea market had been.
Unlike usual, the water level around the path was quite high. The path near the door was even slightly submerged.
It wasn’t that strange since it was built in a previous era, and with recent arrests of illegal immigrants, there was no one to manage it properly.
During rainy seasons, if the waterway gates weren’t opened to control the water level, the water would sometimes cover the paths.
‘At least it’s not dirty water, fortunately.’
Just as the shoemaker was thinking this, Peter returned after closing the door and stepped down onto the floor.
“What on earth is going on?”
“Well… Victoire.”
The shoemaker hesitated as he was about to speak.
He wasn’t sure how much he should say.
How did he even know that he needed help in the first place?
As if answering that question, Peter spoke.
“I was on my way to find you after hearing your location from the warehouse keeper.”
“…Is that so?”
“Why were you trying to meet alone? In a situation where the inside has been completely turned upside down because of the flea market, isn’t it common sense not to move separately?”
It seemed this wasn’t to address his suspicions but rather a build-up for interrogation. The shoemaker hung his head low.
“I wanted to confront Victoire.”
He spoke with an anguished voice.
“Why he proposed joining hands with the mayor, why he brought things to this state. But instead, I was being chased by an Esper sent by who knows who, and then I met you. That’s the truth.”
His eyes glistened as if pretending innocence, as if he knew nothing about the situation.
Peter swallowed hard.
Honestly, he didn’t dislike the shoemaker that much.
The shoemaker was born a sailor with a smooth tongue. He could drink alcohol like water and still deliver jokes without slurring his words even with a reddened nose. This sociable shoemaker knew many ship owners and skillfully negotiated the number of barrels.
When he was younger, Peter had sometimes thought that without him, the Barrel Society wouldn’t function properly.
“An unknown Esper, you say.”
Peter’s expression darkened.
“Could it be someone sent by the mayor?”
“M-mayor?”
The shoemaker asked back.
“Tom. We’ve secured testimony that you contacted Martha Chafnil.”
“Who says that! I’m not a traitor!”
The shoemaker shouted spasmodically.
“The warehouse keeper confessed everything.”
At those words, Tom stepped back.
Victoire.
That stuffy bastard. That indecisive bastard.
If he picked up something like Peter Garrett, he should have kept him under his command and used him for life, so why did he give him wings and make him a fellow executive? That’s why this young kid could interrogate him at the same level as someone who had been an executive for several more years.
“I. I.”
Tom’s face contorted.
“Do you think I did something wrong? No. I was just caught up because of the baker. The baker probably sent those Espers this time too. To kill me and pin his crimes on me!”
He pleaded.
“Think about it. I’ve spent more time swaying on the sea than walking on land. Why would someone like me want anything on land so badly that I’d join hands with them? Victoire must have misunderstood… The baker must have communicated with him and the mayor instead of me.”
“Really?”
Peter cut off Tom’s words. His rambling excuses were getting too long.
Just as Peter leaned forward to pressure Tom further.
Whack!
The shoemaker struck his head and took out an electric shocker from his pocket, pressing it against Peter’s neck.
Peter’s body began to collapse downward.
The shoemaker, who caught Peter with a last bit of loyalty and laid him on the floor, panted heavily.
‘This guy came knowing everything.’
He would have come with some suspicions, and it wouldn’t have taken long to reach the truth.
But that stupid, soft guy helped him escape when the shoemaker was in mortal danger. Maybe it was to talk one-on-one, but still.
This was an opportunity.
He turned around with gleaming eyes.
That’s when it happened.
“How is it that… you never deviate from our boss’s predictions?”
As the shoemaker turned, he discovered a man standing at the waterway gate.
The man with ash-gray hair and yellow eyes emitted a somehow dangerous atmosphere. He smiled, showing his teeth.
“That fluffy guy stepped forward trying to save your life. And here you are, kicking away the rope thrown down to you. How unfortunate.”
“W-what.”
“You had some fun, didn’t you?”
The shoemaker felt his soul might leave his body from the interrogation of this person who appeared at such a moment.
The man waved his hand. He looked like a kind adult who had seen a child. Or perhaps a mascot at an amusement park.
His strangely exaggerated attitude and neat attire had something about them that made people uncomfortable.
“Hello. I’m Chase. Chase Dalton.”
It was a name he had heard somewhere.
His heart sank with an ominous feeling of déjà vu.
“I’m from Baekyah.”
The shoemaker felt his legs trembling.
Baekyah? Baekyah?
“What business does Baekyah… have with me?”
There had been disturbances, but those had happened here in Babel City in the Spring Continent, not in Orum City in the Winter Continent.
So why would an Esper from Baekyah come looking for him?
Splash, splash.
Wet shoes slowly began to climb onto the shore.
That eerie sound echoed through the chamber.
The shoemaker, who had been backing away, tripped over something soft and fell.
“Ahh!”
It was the body of Peter, whom he had knocked down with the electric shocker.
The body lying on the floor still retained a faint warmth.
Whether the other person fell or not, Chase spoke kindly.
“Our respected, honorable mayor was manufacturing drugs in a huge abandoned factory district. Right?”
“…”
The shoemaker gulped.
“And what do you know, guiding drugs have been flowing into the Winter Continent?”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Chase smiled.
Months ago, Yuri had received records from the Barrel Society.
There was various information, such as shipments, movements of illegal immigrants… It was even intricately tangled content.
How long had it taken to find what they wanted among it all?
“The warehouse keeper first joined hands with the mayor… the baker moved locally to receive the goods. Then who took care of those drugs and brought them to the Winter Continent?”
Chase whispered articulately.
Tom’s lips trembled.
The other person didn’t seem to particularly want his answer.
“There’s no one but you. No one.”
Because he already had certainty.
“In barrels made to transport people. You transported money, dreams, and drugs.”
At those words, the shoemaker turned around.
It wasn’t visible well from here, but if he ran that way, there was a water gate. If he opened that gate, a passage would appear next to it.
‘I’ll escape right away!’
Peter might be swept away by the water, but why should he care?
His own life was more important.
It was the moment when the shoemaker’s feet, which had been running frantically, were about to land on the submerged path.
A shout was heard from behind.
“Careful!”
It was a warning, but at the same time, it wasn’t.
“Aaaagh!”
The burning pain that started from his feet that touched the water.
The tingling sensation rising up to the top of his head.
“I only adjusted it so you wouldn’t die. It’s been a while since I’ve used this on a person.”
Chase laughed.
The face of the man laughing as if his mouth would tear was incomparably grotesque.
“The shoemaker of the Barrel Society didn’t even properly take care of his own shoes.”
“How shabby,” whispered the man as he threw something next to the face of the shoemaker, who was trembling from the electric shock.
With a splash, something familiar fell before his eyes.
“My, my. My… my shoe.”
The shoemaker muttered.
Why was the shoe that had disappeared while he was escaping here?
‘Unless a spatial movement ability user, Peter, helped.’
And that man seemed to handle lightning, but what had been chasing him earlier was clearly an Esper who used ice.
His vision was gradually darkening. In his blurry sight, he could see the face of someone walking steadily toward him.
Peter, who usually walked around smiling pleasantly, squatted down with an expressionless face and looked into Tom’s face.
“As an Esper, I won’t collapse from that level of shocker. Tom. But thank you for taking decisive action.”
Peter whispered.
“Thanks to you, I think I can act without hesitation too.”
With this, Tom’s vision slowly closed.
It was distant darkness, and more darkness.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
