PDCOO Chapter 15

He grabbed a nearby statue and dropped it onto the stairs Anna had climbed. The stairs—which had barely deserved the name—shattered instantly.

Lara cried out.

"What do we do, the stairs—!"

Perhaps someone else's despair was his good fortune. The man grinned.

"Give up. No one's coming to find you anyway. I've seen your type plenty. Let me tell you about a nice job opportunity—"

Anna didn't give him another word.

While he was leering at Lara, she dropped low — then launched herself upward and drove her knee straight into his groin.

The man folded without a sound.

"Lara! We'll slide down ourselves. Life is long—there are days that call for a bruised backside!"

"Miss Anna, look—there's another staircase over there!"

"What? Then we go that way—"

"That's not the problem!"

Where Lara was pointing.

A length of heavy curtain hung loose in the corner, swaying. Beyond it: a stone staircase. Footsteps were ascending from below.

The man on the floor wheezed a laugh.

"You two... make the uncles any angrier... and they'll send you somewhere really bad...?"

"May you be reborn as a potato in your next life. I'll personally arrange it."

"What...? Ugh—!"

Anna kicked him in the face.

A well-organized operation, really: luring country girls, collapsing the wooden stairs, a second team ascending the stone staircase. Quite the professional trafficking ring.

I should turn them into fertilizer.

...If, of course, they could get out of here first.

Footsteps from the staircase.

More than one person.

Meanwhile, the pawnshop manager—having heard about Anna's "little brother"—descended the wooden stairs half-expecting a bluff.

Better if it was a bluff.

If there really was family waiting outside, he needed to get them gone quickly.

He reviewed the description as he went. Black hair. Blue eyes. Tall—well, younger brothers do shoot past their older sisters once they hit their growth. But to call your own brother a bear...

He got as far as that thought. Stepped outside. Looked under the tree.

And lost every word he had.

"A bear?"

There was actually a bear-like man there.

The man turned at the word bear. Black hair, blue eyes. At least ten years older than expected — but the description matched exactly what the girl had said.

The manager edged closer and asked:

"Are you... looking for your older sister?"

Bertram, hearing the unexpected phrase older sister, began to think.

Why was this man suddenly bringing up an older sister.

Had someone introduced Bertram to this man as their younger brother.

The chief had told Bertram to play Anna's older brother.

The conclusion Bertram reached was exactly one:

'Something has happened to Anna.'

When an agreed password shifted in a strange direction, the more likely explanation—far more likely than the password being leaked—was that something had happened to the person who sent it. This was what every battlefield Bertram had known had taught him.

His assessment was not wrong.

As if to prove it: from inside the pawnshop building came the sound of heavy boots. More than one man's worth.

The second floor of the pawnshop.

The man with the kicked-in face kept running his mouth. The sound of boots on stone below seemed to have given him a fresh supply of conviction.

"Get ready for a trip, little ones. You were tired of the village anyway, weren't you? You'd barely fetch dog prices in the country, but dress you up nicely and in the city—gck!"

"In the village, you'd be fertilizer. Not even worth the cost of the manure."

Anna kicked him a second time and knocked him unconscious, then called urgently toward the collapsed staircase.

"Bertram! Hurry—go get the guards!"

Before she could even confirm her voice had carried.

The curtain over the stone staircase shifted behind her.

She turned.

Two broad-shouldered men. One of them strode directly toward Anna and Lara.

"Think you can bluff your way out? We checked outside. Nobody there. And even if there were, our man would've handled them by now."

"That can't be right... Bertram!"

"Keep screaming. Let's see if the guards can hear you from here. Why is this one facedown on the floor? Did I send him up here to play party games with the girls?"

He kept kicking the sprawled man—tuk, tuk—but didn't step aside. The exit was completely blocked.

Lara's fingernails dug into Anna's shoulder. Anna was too tense to notice.

Then the curtain over the stone staircase fluttered again.

The man turned his head.

"Why are you so lat— aaaagh!"

What was shoved into his field of vision: the pawnshop manager, beaten into a bloody ruin. The manager spoke through swollen lips.

"Some lunatic... said he had to find his sister and his older sister... barged in without any regard..."

The explanation ended there. Because that same lunatic tossed the manager lightly into the corner of the room like a length of scrap timber.

A large man with a blank face, swinging a person like a cudgel.

To the trafficking ring, he was terror. To Anna, he was salvation.

"Bertram!"

"I confirmed the password and entered. Has the transaction fallen through?"

"The password...?"

Bertram looked at the gems scattered across the floor. He looked at the man clutching his groin.

The deal was clearly finished.

What to do next was determined by the man who came at him swinging a club.

Bertram caught the man's wrist.

"Hey—let go! Let go right now, you—"

"I will proceed to sort this out in order to assess the situation."

"What? Aaagh!"

The sorting proceeded with some enthusiasm.

After the noisy ones went quiet.

While Lara went to fetch the guards, Bertram bound four men with the curtains. This was clearly not his first time.

He gagged three of them. Then he extended one man the courtesy of an unobstructed mouth.

The right to speak, technically. More accurately: the right to betray his companions first.

"Explain what you were attempting to do."

"First, untie me! Who do you think you are, treating us like—"

"You don't seem to have a grasp of your situation. Please rest for a moment."

"What?"

Bertram pushed the man's head down. Face met floor. He shuddered briefly and went still.

Muffled sounds leaked from the other men through their gags.

"Heeeeek...?"

"Gentlemen. This hasn't started yet. Are you experiencing phantom pain?"

Bertram was expressionless. The blood spattered on his face only described what came next. When the men swallowed even their moans, Bertram removed the pawnshop manager's gag and asked:

"It appears your group lured my companions here, intending to abduct and sell them. Is that correct?"

"L-lure! That's not it at all. We just—with respect for their wishes—we introduce opportunities for earning. You can earn enough to go home and hold your head high!"

"...I understand the general shape of it. I happen to have known many young men who received similar speeches."

"Heh heh, is that right? Were you perhaps in the same line of work?"

"No."

Bertram stood and stepped on the back of the manager's head.

His nose broke, but he couldn't quite manage unconsciousness. He thrashed on the floor, spraying blood-mixed mucus. Bertram spoke over him.

"Conscription worked exactly the same way. 'This is your opportunity to seize the enemy's wealth. We'll all go home rich, heads held high.'"

"Ugghff—!"

The opportunity to make excuses or offer flattery—oh, you were a soldier, no wonder you're so strong—never came. Bertram had no further use for his voice.

Next. The third man made eye contact with Bertram and screamed immediately.

"Mmmph, hmmpgh!"

"I'll remove your gag now. Please be honest with me. If the information you provide is insufficient, I intend to begin this process from the beginning."

The beginning. At those words, the first man—who had been performing unconsciousness—flinched. Going back to the beginning over and over meant there was no end.

Just before the third man's gag came off—

From below, Lara's voice.

"Anna! I brought the guards! They'll be right up!"

"Out of the way, ruffians! Here I—come—aaaaaah!"

He'd slipped trying to climb the ruined wooden staircase, apparently.

The trafficking ring went collectively red-faced with what appeared to be secondhand embarrassment. But only for a moment.

"We'll continue."

The gag came off.

"Aaaagh!"

The third man screamed and threw himself between Bertram's legs. He apparently intended to crawl to freedom.

Anna stepped forward.

She kicked him lightly, rolling him toward the wooden staircase.

"Gack!"

"Wha — ghhk!"

The sound of idiots stacking on top of one another.

After all of that, the trafficking ring was handed over to the guards. Anna, Lara, and Bertram emerged from the security office only after the interrogation was complete.

Already evening. If the village chief hadn't come looking for them, they might have missed dinner entirely.

Anna grumbled at the chief.

"What exactly are guards for? You'd think catching a trafficking ring would at least earn some gratitude, not 'could you please also conduct our interrogation for us?'"

"...Anna. Lara. I really didn't want to have to say this... but please try not to be too shocked."

"What is it?"

"This town is actually a village!"

Lara's jaw dropped.

"N-no... that can't be... a big city like this is a village?"