[141]
After the flea market incident, the whole story came to light.
It was well known within the Barrel Society that the shoemaker and the baker had been in opposition to each other after the terrorist incident.
This was because the shoemaker coveted the market. The baker was urgently trying to restore the market, but the shoemaker, as if disrupting things, tried to take control of the flea market, causing friction several times.
Amid the confusion, public opinion was leaning toward the shoemaker. To create a new flea market immediately, they needed goods. And of course, the shoemaker was the one who could procure supplies the fastest.
The enraged baker sold the location of the flea market to the mayor.
Martha Chafnil used the flea market as a link to draw out the Barrel Society in order to overcome her political crisis.
As things escalated, the baker disappeared. Eventually, the locksmith stepped up.
Peter Garrett did not disappoint the Barrel Society. Jin, the baker, went from being a once-respected executive to a disgraceful criminal, thrown into the underground plaza where the flea market was held.
And he had a terminal chip containing a list of key figures in the Barrel Society.
He intended to hand it over to the mayor and save only himself.
“They caught him approaching the residence?”
“He said he was going to the mayor for the sake of the Barrel Society.”
“He’s really crazy… just crazy.”
“No, why? I thought the baker wouldn’t do that. What about my brother who was taken away?”
As they say, misfortunes never come singly; after the baker, it was the shoemaker’s turn.
But Tom, who fled alone to avoid responsibility, wasn’t caught as easily as the baker.
Amid the general commotion, sympathetic opinion turned toward the warehouse keeper.
From the beginning, Victoire had voluntarily stepped back and disclosed everything he knew about the mayor.
Since he even wanted to give up his executive position, there were people who felt sorry for him, but no one wanted to throw stones.
Victoire crossed the plaza.
Seeing the floor stained with blood spilled by the baker who had actually been stoned, his steps quickened.
He had been summoned for an executive meeting. Peter had offered to transport him directly, but Victoire refused the offer because he wanted to see the mood of the Barrel Society for himself.
The plaza in disarray after the search of the flea market, and the gazes looking at him with caution and scrutiny.
It was difficult to guarantee whether the Barrel Society could return to its former state.
By the time he opened the door to the meeting place, Victoire’s heart had grown considerably heavier.
Opening the door, he looked at the old woman and young man already inside.
The gatekeeper and the locksmith.
The faces that should have occupied the other two seats were nowhere to be seen. He also thought he might not deserve to be here, just like them.
“…I wonder if I should be in such a place.”
Victoire muttered while standing at the doorway.
The gatekeeper, who had already arrived, glared at him.
“Stop talking and sit down. You too, Peter.”
Only three executives remained out of five. In terms of ratio, nearly half had been lost.
If Victoire stepped back too, what would happen?
“At least take minimal responsibility. You should select the next generation and complete the handover.”
Bowing his head at the gatekeeper’s rebuke, Victoire approached and took the seat next to her.
Once they had settled down somewhat, Peter spoke.
“We need to fill the empty seats.”
“Let me say this first.”
The gatekeeper opened her mouth.
“We need to replace both the baker and the shoemaker.”
“…If possible, I’d like to determine my successor as well.”
Both the locksmith and the gatekeeper pretended not to hear Victoire’s words.
“Two people. This will be busy.”
“I have someone in mind for the shoemaker’s position. Someone who saved money alone to become a ship owner…”
Victoire swallowed a sigh.
“If you’re not going to listen to me, why did you call me?”
The gatekeeper slowly raised her head and looked into his eyes.
“Because especially in times like these, we need to show that we are united.”
Two of the executives were gone. Would people trust the remaining three?
Even if they did, if they didn’t show that they were working together properly, who would follow their plans?
There were numerous challenges facing them due to the betrayal of the baker and the shoemaker.
Currently, they were working with Northern Light to rescue illegal immigrants who had been moved to abandoned factory areas and various “sites.” They needed to care for those who escaped and discuss their treatment.
They also had to respond to the investigation related to the flea market. The mayor’s trap would be lurking.
Even amid this chaos, there were people crossing the sea on barrels to other continents, carrying dreams they had yet to fulfill.
They also needed to investigate information and personnel leaked at the executive level and eliminate dangerous elements.
With overtime and night shifts waiting in this situation, withdrawing now?
‘That can’t be.’
The gatekeeper’s wrinkled eyes sharpened.
“Victoire. I know you’re indecisive. But I also know your kindness. We can’t punish every mistake unless it’s made with malice. But take responsibility.”
Responsibility.
It sounded especially heavy today.
“Does the Barrel Society collapse just because the baker and shoemaker are gone?”
A sharp laugh escaped from the old woman’s mouth.
“It doesn’t. Unfortunately.”
“…”
“In my long life, that’s the one thing I’ve learned.”
The gatekeeper was alive when the world’s reconstruction began.
Probably throughout the Barrel Society, it would be difficult to find someone older than her.
In that era, not many people were born, and even those died in droves due to the war.
“Even though war broke out, the world was ruined, and so many people died, didn’t the survivors rebuild society?”
The gatekeeper exhaled deeply.
She remembered the day when the young man who had been eager to become her husband died. She had also sent her adopted son ahead.
“While alive, all kinds of things can happen. That’s why they say that the living must live.”
Victoire, as if captivated by that heavy gaze, kept his mouth shut.
“Do what you can do.”
The Barrel Society’s meeting began with only three executives remaining.
Urgent issues were dealt with quickly.
It took a full half day to decide on responses to immediate problems, even if only as stopgap measures.
“People are decreasing, but somehow working hours aren’t decreasing.”
“Since we’re trying to share what those who aren’t here would have considered, it’s bound to take more time.”
Peter muttered while rubbing his temples. It was fortunate that he had been handling some of the shoemaker’s work.
Since he was familiar with the flow of logistics and the next ship schedule, he could offer meaningful opinions.
“Then now… let’s discuss the problem we’ve been putting off last.”
The gatekeeper broached the subject.
Victoire and Peter nodded.
“It may be a bit early, but we can’t leave executive positions vacant. We need to select at least one.”
“I think so too.”
Peter nodded solemnly.
It was impossible to replace both the baker and the shoemaker at once.
Calling in those who worked directly under the baker and the shoemaker to act as proxies would be one approach. But they couldn’t know which of them had betrayed them in collusion with the executives.
Once Peter completed his ongoing investigation, it would be determined who among them would stay and who would leave.
“If you have talent you’ve been keeping an eye on, speak up.”
At the gatekeeper’s words, Victoire kept his mouth shut.
He did have someone in mind, but his honest feeling was that he wanted to refrain from speaking for now.
The gatekeeper, as if she hadn’t expected anything, turned to Peter.
“Does the locksmith have any suggestions?”
As if he had been waiting, Peter opened his mouth.
“There is someone I’d like to recommend.”
The gatekeeper nodded as if telling him to speak.
Peter, who was about to spit out a name he had in mind, suddenly pressed his lips together.
Executives were originally elected through discussion among the executives.
That’s how Peter, the baker, and the shoemaker had been chosen. The gatekeeper was one of the founders of the Barrel Society, and the warehouse keeper was her right-hand man who had followed the old woman.
The position of an executive in an illegal immigrant organization required confidentiality.
The Barrel Society began with illegal immigration and smuggling. If someone known to many became an executive, information would easily leak. If an executive’s identity was revealed when they were caught, it would cause significant damage.
Hence, they used titles instead of names. They took on titles that could be found anywhere: baker, gatekeeper, warehouse keeper.
Even if someone accidentally overheard their conversation, they wouldn’t know if they were talking about Barrel Society executives or not.
But today, Peter thought he should reverse that method.
“No. I withdraw.”
Peter licked his dry lips and said.
“I propose changing the way we elect new executives.”
***
“Ugh…”
The shoemaker opened his eyes due to the cold sensation on the back of his neck.
He struggled to grasp his surroundings with his blurry vision.
‘I definitely fainted from an electric shock.’
It seemed like a basement due to the darkness. There were no windows, only a ladder leading upward in the back.
Boxes were stacked here and there, as if it were a warehouse. Due to his professional background, the shoemaker could tell from the exterior of those boxes that they contained alcohol.
‘Smuggled alcohol.’
Unless he had crossed continents while asleep, the fact that alcohol not produced in the Spring Continent and with no official import route filled half of this warehouse was not a common sight.
‘Is this some kind of hideout for the locksmith?’
The shoemaker’s face contorted in anger. After flatly refusing when asked for help to transfer special items across the sea, he was hiding something like this?
But his body trembled for reasons other than anger.
“C-cold…”
White breath flowed between his parted lips. No matter how he tried to move to generate heat, he couldn’t do anything due to being tied up.
Step, step.
Hearing the voice of the awakened man, the captor’s footsteps made Tom prick up his ears.
The one who emerged from the darkness was a woman with her head tilted askew.
“Hey.”
Susanna Godrin glared at Tom with her arms crossed.
“Who told you to sell goods in this area?”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
