[147] Forceful Breakthrough (2)
Falkoa knew the Magic Association was on his tail. But how could they not even send a single notice? If he hadn't taught his men the taste of money, the whole outfit would have already collapsed.
"Don't talk nonsense! You're not in any position to boss me around. We're not the Angmu Mercenary Company or some thieves' gang. We're just a bunch of thugs holed up on an island!"
"So… you're going to keep acting like a brute until the end?"
"Hah! I earned it! I kept this group going with what I earned! If you won't praise me, fine—but you blame me? Then what have you been doing all this time?"
"That's none of your concern. If you're not going to follow the rules I set, drop the name Angmu right now."
"Puhahaha! You call that a threat? Fine, I'll drop it! Angmu? We're the Freeman organization now! Ever since you ran off like that, nobody's used the Angmu name!"
"Good. From this moment on, you are not Angmu. I don't know how much you made, but gather it all up and leave this place."
"Damn youuu!"
Falkoa burst out in rage. Even Marsha wouldn't have reacted like that. Angmu had her blood mixed into it; the honor of being the strongest mercenary band wasn't something to be traded for mere money.
"If you can't give up Angmu, then obey me. I'm not telling you to become virtuous. But if there's something you want, take it through fighting. Preying on the weak is unacceptable."
Falkoa huffed. He was furious at Marsha for using him even though she knew he couldn't abandon Angmu.
"I always take what I want. You're the same. One day you'll be mine."
Instead of getting angry, Marsha smiled as if soothing an annoying child.
"It's novel hearing that from you again. Do your best, then. I don't stop men who come, and I don't cling to men who leave."
Falkoa clenched his fist and glared at her; it looked like fire had lit in his eyes.
He was actually using a powerful ocular technique. Marsha didn't even flinch. That told how strong her will was.
"Tch! Still unlucky as ever. I'm done. I'm going out for a drink."
"Stay put at the hideout. Everyone at commander level or higher will gather for a meeting. And from this moment, drugs are banned. If I catch anyone using, they'll wish they were dead."
Falkoa left the storeroom without answering. Marsha, however, knew he would attend the meeting and he wouldn't touch drugs—someone had returned who could drag him back into the blood-soaked battlefield.
After the subordinates dispersed, Freeman slid back from vice-captain into the old hometown friend, greeting Marsha warmly.
"I'm glad you returned safely. I was worried when I couldn't reach you."
"You didn't get any contact because I ran away. Do you have no sense? You think I'd get caught that easily? By the way, what happened to Falkoa? Are we supposed to use him like that? He's crazy, sure, but when there's a sword in his hand he used to be unstoppable."
"You can't blame Falkoa alone. It was us who pulled the battlefield away from him."
"Hoho, no, it was me."
"Still, because he was there, the war chest got built up. I've made preparations so that when you come back, you could leave for another country anytime."
Marsha puffed her cheeks in displeasure—she knew exactly how Falkoa had raised funds.
In the end, were humans just creatures who adapted to reality? The reputation of the Angmu mercenaries, who'd rampaged without fear, had become a thing of the past.
She'd run away from home at seventeen and, with her childhood friend Freeman, had kept the mercenary band going until now.
They'd been fooled by politicians and lost their lifelong base, but Marsha had tried to keep Angmu's values intact.
But weren't they hardly different now? They used any means to make money, and before fighting for conviction they had to watch the powerful.
"Sigh. When did we become like this?"
"We were betrayed by the state. If we want to survive, we have no choice."
"Yeah, I guess. But Freeman, you haven't corroded too, have you?"
Freeman fell silent. He felt no pangs of conscience—only hurt that a friend he'd admired since childhood would doubt him.
"I don't care about the organization or anything. The name Angmu has no value to me. All I want is for you to be safe."
Marsha shivered. She didn't need a label to know Freeman's feelings were sincere, but his constant dramatic appeals annoyed her to death.
"You only want me to be safe? Why on earth?"
"You are…"
When Marsha asked, half to needle him, Freeman hesitated, searching for the right words among many.
"Because you're our captain."
Marsha snorted. From that answer it was clear Freeman hadn't changed—annoying as ever.
'Anyway, now that you're back, we should reorganize.'
Marsha planned to lead the group into exile in another country and start anew. First they had to clean up the mess her subordinates had left behind.
"Wah—sniff!"
Marsha turned at the sound of sobbing. Yuna was crying pitifully, not even thinking of running away.
Although the worst had been avoided, Marsha understood. A woman could be emotionally wounded simply by being treated roughly by a stranger.
"What happened? Where did you get this girl?"
"One of Falkoa's men had a brother who worked as a street tout. She's apparently his sister."
"Crazy bastard. Now he's even going after a subordinate's sister?"
"I don't know. He seems to have lost his mind."
"Is there something I don't know about?"
Freeman relayed what the men had told him: the anecdotes between Jis and Amy, Shirone's storming of the palace, and how Yuna ended up being brought here.
Marsha's eyes brightened when she heard Shirone's name.
"Oh? Now that you mention it, I do know that story."
"You know it? How would you know about this incident?"
Marsha smiled and toyed with her lips.
"Told you I'm a genius. Life always ties things up like this."
"What exactly happened? Tell me."
"Well… it's a trivial little incident. Nothing to worry about."
Freeman didn't press when she wouldn't tell him. She'd poked around this world for as long as he'd known her; that nosiness was the only escape that kept her alive.
Marsha received several other reports from Freeman.
There was nothing particularly troublesome. Falkoa's funds were enough to start fresh in another country, and Freeman's unit still had decent combat capability.
"Not bad. Good work. But shouldn't we just liquidate the assets?"
"Is Falkoa's money that much of a problem?"
"It's… awkward, right? If we're trying to revive Angmu, starting out with money earned from selling drugs—doesn't that look bad?"
"That's unlike you. Money is money. I don't like how it was earned either, but burying it for that reason is childish."
"I know. Let's bring it up at the meeting later. For now—"
At that moment the door burst open and a member rushed in. Marsha and Freeman watched him in surprise.
This place was remote, beyond government reach. There shouldn't be any reason for someone to come here out of breath.
Marsha smiled.
"What's the matter? Stomachache? There's no bathroom here."
"Huh? Captain? You've returned?"
The member, spotting Marsha, couldn't hide his shock. But the situation was urgent, and he launched into his report.
"Captain! It's serious! We're under attack!"
"Attack? What attack? From the government?"
"I don't think so. They're kids—four of them. From the report, it looks like two mages and two swordsmen."
Marsha needed no more to figure out who they were. It was odd that they'd come to rescue the street-tout's brother they'd fought at the harbor, but she couldn't rule out one possibility.
"Hoho, well, if they're that disgusting little lot, I could believe it. Is one of the attackers named Shirone by any chance?"
"Sorry, I don't— I don't know the names…."
Freeman immediately changed tone and spoke politely.
"Captain, how about handing the girl over? We're trying to reorganize the group; stirring up trouble seems like a hassle."
Marsha weighed the situation with amusement—few men were as straight-laced as that.
"Hmm—hand her over. Wouldn't that look ridiculous? You kidnap someone and when they come looking you just hand her back. Or do they mean they might push in as far as here?"
"That won't happen. While you were away we fortified this place thoroughly. Magic circles and enchanted gear are deployed; the tactical setup is solid. Unless they're skilled, they'll die before reaching the first gate."
"Then it doesn't matter. Go kill them. I'll take care of the girl here. A few years off must've dulled them; they sound completely inept."
The moment Marsha spoke, Freeman ordered his men to ready for deployment.
It would be shameful to appear slack before their captain—especially since he'd put effort into preparing.
"All troops to training positions. This is a real combat situation."
"Yes! Passing orders now!"
Freeman's men moved with precision. It took less than five minutes to arm up, form units, and head to their positions.
Only then did Marsha sit back in her chair with a satisfied smile.
"Not bad. I thought you'd been idle this whole time."
"We've all been waiting for this day. We work harder because you came back."
"Hmph. How long do I have to breastfeed and burp you? It's time you stood on your own. By the way—aren't you going to fight?"
"I'll stay here. Guarding you is what I must do."
Marsha looked at Freeman as if he'd said something absurd. He had acted as a bodyguard in the early days, but every time he did she felt a chill run down her arms.
"You're really pathetic. Do you think that makes you look cool?"
Freeman seemed resolute; he had no intention of leaving Marsha's side.
Anger flushed Marsha's face. She'd hated that trait in him since childhood—his unreadable expressions and stubbornness had irritated her countless times.
"Hey! Stop standing there like an idiot and get out! Do you think you're my husband or something?"
From her chair, Marsha kicked Freeman in the backside.
Like an object in motion, he took a step and, keeping his silence to the end, quietly left the storeroom.
When everyone had gone, Marsha stretched and smiled as if nothing had happened.
She was excited about the prospect of a fight, certainly, but more than that she was curious about Shirone.
Shirone belonged to the type of person Marsha despised most. There was no one who could truly embrace someone else's pain.
Her adoptive father had eventually shown his true nature too. The mercy he'd shown to orphans had been driven by an ugly desire, and when Marsha realized that, she awakened.