Chapter 229: A Scoop Worth Its Weight in Gold
Durich was utterly dumbfounded.
He had seen plenty of absurd things during his climb from low-level employee to spokesperson of the Roar Knightclub. He'd witnessed betrayal, scandal, and bloodshed. He could even calmly accept the idea of his own death.
But this? This he hadn't expected at all.
A stranger had casually waltzed in and pressed a gun to his forehead. No elaborate assassination. No cold, professional execution. Just… a robbery?
No, to be more precise, Durich had always expected this was how things would end. But it absolutely wasn't supposed to be this guy.
As a former spokesperson for the General Chamber of Commerce, he knew the Armorless Union's killers by sight—their aura, their style, the way they moved.
The masked teenager in front of him, with his casual attitude and mismatched gear?
He didn't fit the profile at all.
So what, someone really just broke in to rob him? In this situation? And actually succeeded?
"I don't know what you're thinking," Durich finally managed, forcing out a bitter chuckle, "but if you keep going like this, you're going to get dragged into a whole mess of trouble."
Having at last accepted the surreal reality of his situation, he turned toward Steven, locking eyes with the only visible part of the young man's face.
"I don't really care about the trouble," Steven said, casually spinning the pistol in his hand. "That can come later. But let's not skip the line, alright? First come, first served."
Then, as if this were a completely normal time and place for such a conversation, he asked:
"Just one thing—do you think you're a good person?"
It was such a bizarre, childish question that Durich froze on the spot.
"…Do you even hear yourself right now?"
For a second, he thought the boy had lost his mind. Sneaking into a locked-down building, facing imminent danger from a professional hit squad, and now he wanted to ask about morality?
Durich was almost ready to laugh out loud.
A good person? At his level?
He'd long since stopped believing in that kind of fairytale.
To survive in the General Chamber of Commerce, especially at the top, you had to play dirty. No hesitation. No mercy. The corporate battlefield was often bloodier than the literal one.
And this—this was the price of a single mistake.
Steven didn't miss the flicker of sarcasm on Durich's face. He grinned, clearly reading the man like an open book.
"Judging by that look, I guess you've come to terms with being the 'bad guy,' huh?"
It wasn't that Steven held any special grudge against the rich. But looking around at the state of Kazimierz, and the corruption festering in every corner of the General Chamber of Commerce, it was hard to believe that anyone at the top could still cling to their conscience.
Lose your morals, and the profits start rolling in.
Durich gave a short laugh, a mix of disdain and resignation.
"What's the point of all this preaching? You're still a damn thief, aren't you?" he said coldly. "Though I must admit, you're a little late. The General Chamber of Commerce's already frozen all my assets. Even if you want to rob me, there's nothing left to take."
The coldness returned to his voice. The earlier surprise had faded. What remained was the calm resignation of a man who'd already made peace with death.
He was surprisingly composed, Steven had to admit.
"…Now that's a real shame," Steven said with a smirk, unfazed by the bad news.
Even with no treasure in sight, the night was far from over.
Steven shook his head slowly.
He could tell the guy wasn't lying—there was a heaviness in Durich's expression that couldn't be faked. That look of someone who'd lost everything—even the will to pretend otherwise.
Still, that didn't mean there wasn't anything of value left to squeeze out of him.
"Well then," Steven said with a shrug, "how about something even better than money? Information, perhaps? I'm not picky—anything worthwhile will do. Just don't make me walk out of here empty-handed."
He casually lifted the pistol off Durich's forehead.
Truth be told, the gun was just for intimidation—he didn't need it to take down someone like Durich. That would've been giving the man too much credit.
But to a regular guy, getting a pistol pressed to the head? That was enough to shake anyone to the core.
"Are you seriously planning to wade into this mess?" Durich muttered, his tone a strange blend of warning and pity. "I don't know where you came from, or who you're loyal to, but if you stay here much longer… when they arrive, you'll—"
He cut himself off, his eyes darkening.
"No… it's too late for that. The moment you stepped into this room, you were already part of this. The Armorless Union's dogs will find you… rip apart everything about you… and when they do, you'll finally understand what regret truly means."
He ran both hands through his hair, as though trying to calm the storm in his mind. It was clear this man had already been through the wringer. And judging by his expression, the mere thought of the Armorless Union filled him with absolute dread.
What Durich didn't know, of course, was that Steven had zero interest in hiding. If someone really could dig up dirt on him, he'd be thrilled.
Because truth be told—things got boring without a decent enemy.
"I'm easy either way," Steven said with a grin. "Now, are you done rambling, or do you have something shiny for me? Doesn't matter if it's an item or intel—I'm taking donations."
He plopped down into a chair and lazily tapped the desk in front of him, as if reminding Durich to hurry it up.
What he really wanted was a bombshell. Something big enough to shake the General Chamber of Commerce. If he could stir things up in Kazimierz, this whole detour would be way more fun.
Durich took a long drag from his nearly burnt-out cigar and let out a bitter laugh.
"I can't tell if you're fearless because you're clueless… or if you're just a complete lunatic."
Then, something shifted in his eyes—madness.
Maybe it was the pressure finally breaking him. Or maybe it was hope. Twisted, reckless hope.
"Fine," he whispered, that wild grin returning to his face. "If you survive this… if you really can throw a wrench into that damned General Chamber of Commerce… maybe that's not such a bad thing after all."
His gaze turned to the window, where a building even taller and more extravagant than their own loomed in the distance.
"Do you know about Area 0? The so-called special mobile platform for handling the infected?"
He threw out the question casually—almost as if it had nothing to do with anything.
But his eyes… they gleamed with something deeper. Something dangerous.
He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he pointed toward that towering building on the horizon.
"It's nothing but a filthy cover-up. A curtain hiding the K.G.C.C's ugliest sins. I thought I'd seen the worst humanity had to offer—but even I feel sick just thinking about what they've done. And yet they wear it like a badge of honor."
His voice trembled—not with fear, but rage.
Steven's smile grew sharper.
Now this was the kind of scoop he'd been hoping for.
"You'll find the intelligence to expose their plans on a computer in one of the rooms in that tower," Durich rasped, eyes alight with blood-red vengeance. "If you managed to stroll in here so easily, slipping inside over there should be child's play."
He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't ask me how much it's worth. The Adeptus Sprawiedliwi would be ecstatic to hand over the entire Roar Knightclub as a 'thank you' for that data."
Rapture glinted in his gaze—he didn't truly trust Steven's abilities, but if this boy walked away with the files, that alone would be enough. After all, what more did a man with nothing left have to lose?
But Durich's twisted smile froze on his lips the moment a new, unexpected guest appeared in the office.
Tall. Slender. Curves hinted beneath her form.
Long, silver-white hair cascaded over shoulders that framed an impossibly delicate face—her beauty could have launched a thousand fan clubs.
Yet, it was the longbow in her hand, engraved with the black emblem of the Armorless Union, that revealed her true identity.
"You've said too much," the girl chided, her tone both languid and exasperated. "Now even someone like me—who only overheard by accident—is about to be dragged into this mess. Couldn't you just wait quietly for it to be over?"
She drew back the bowstring with effortless grace and leveled it at Steven.
"And you," she added, voice cool as ice, "I don't know who you are or why you're here, but you're not going anywhere."
Steven raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a lazy grin. "Can't we negotiate? Let me finish my business first, then we can talk about you and me."
The archer blinked once, considering, then nodded.
"Fine," she said. "You've already taken what you came for. First come, first served. Do as you will—just make it quick."
Steven gave her a thumbs-up. Over the course of the heist, he'd secured the explosive intel on the General Chamber of Commerce's secret Area 0 program—enough to topple empires. As for the silent archer? He'd known she was here all along, silently watching. Since she hadn't attacked, he saw no reason to speak first.
Durich, trapped between them, closed his eyes in despair as the girl nocked her arrow.
"Well," he muttered, resignation seeping into his voice, "even in death, I'll have the honor of going out alongside a platinum-ranked assassin of the Armorless Union. Not a terrible fate."
Her arrow flew true, piercing Durich's heart.
He opened his eyes one last time, a triumphant grin on his lips.
Then came the muffled click of a timer—and a low, mechanical whirr that grew into a roaring crescendo.
BOOM!
In an instant, the upper floors of the Roar Knightclub headquarters erupted in a fiery explosion.
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