Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Elite Forum (Part Two)

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The first thing that caught his eye was a post titled: “Anyone Planning to Check Out the Old Industrial District?”

He clicked on it. The original poster’s intention was simple enough:

“The Old Industrial District has been sealed off for years. Anyone planning to go in and take a look? Maybe we could salvage something valuable.”

There were plenty of replies beneath it.

“Give it a rest.”

“If there were really anything valuable, do you think the corporate lackeys would have left it for you?”

“Are you paying for the protective equipment? I suspect they never properly cleaned the place up in the first place. It’s probably a Level-One chemical accident site by now. Otherwise, why would it still be sealed?”

“Count me in. I’ll pay.”

“Seriously?”

Song Shi skimmed through them and moved on.

“Need a driver. Price negotiable, but your skills had better be solid.”

“Selling one ‘Heavy Rain Type II’ neural stabilizer injection. Genuine premium-brand stuff. Anyone interested? Storage-locker exchange only.”

“Inside information: The Security Bureau is preparing to forcibly suppress the protestors. Don’t go looking for excitement in Rota District over the next few days.”

“Urgently looking for a heavy gunner. Must be a real bruiser; priority to those with heavy cybernetic implants. We can provide the weapons. Big job, low risk, high returns. Interested parties, contact me immediately.”

“Anyone know a good mechanic in Deep Moss District? My gear’s been acting up. Planning to give it a complete overhaul.”

These were the most common kinds of posts.

“Fixers” and “independent contracts”—those were the two methods mercenaries most often used to find work.

The advantage of going through a fixer was safety and stability, as well as the chance to build a reputation. Employers and mercenaries communicated their requirements through the fixer without ever coming into direct contact, making it unlikely that the client would kill them to silence them after the job was done.

The disadvantage, of course, was that the fixer charged a hefty commission. There were also no shortage of cases in which fixers deliberately withheld information and sent mercenaries into traps. Naturally, once such conduct was exposed, that fixer would face a total boycott, along with a united pursuit by the rest of the fixer network.

But the prerequisite was that it had to be exposed.

The death of one mercenary hardly counted as a major incident. Anyone entering this line of work had to be prepared for that, and the dead could not talk.

So long as everything was cleaned up neatly afterward, no one would ever know the true cause of the mercenary’s death. Even if word got around, people might merely sigh and remark that the fool should have trained harder.

“Independent contracts” were much simpler. The name said it all.

They included, but were not limited to, direct recruitment through forums, private approaches to employers, and tearing down various wanted notices. There were all kinds of arrangements. The job Song Shi had accepted in his previous life involving the “Dawnbearers” counted as a form of independent contract as well.

Each method had its own advantages and disadvantages, but in the end, they were simply different ways of working.

No one relied on only one method forever. Almost everyone took whichever jobs came their way.

Song Shi browsed at an unhurried pace.

He intended to find an information broker and obtain a detailed dossier on Keng.

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It would not be difficult.

At heart, an information broker was simply an “information middleman.” It was a profession, no more noble than being a mercenary, a corporate employee, or a gang member. Song Shi had always believed that it was the person who was powerful, not the profession.

Ordinary people might have trouble making contact with information brokers, but for someone like Song Shi, finding one required only a little effort.

After all, information brokers needed to do business. If they made their services impossibly difficult to access and no one came knocking, they would not be able to survive.

Their clients paid with more than just money. Information brokers would certainly offer the option of settling accounts with information instead. The fewer people who came to them, the less money they would make—and the more cut off they would become from timely intelligence.

For an information broker, becoming cut off from information meant being cast aside by the market.

As Song Shi continued to observe the forum, he suddenly spotted a post.

“Found a small job, so I figured I’d post it here. Those of you with nothing better to do can keep an eye on it.”

A small job?

Song Shi clicked on it.

The original poster sounded rather casual.

“Saw this in a vagrant group yesterday. Someone’s looking for a person. The pay isn’t much, but it’s easy enough. Let’s see which of you happens to have the luck.”

The replies beneath the post were a chaotic mixture.

“Oh… This person doesn’t look very old.”

“Who posted the job? Anyone want to step forward and claim it?”

“Oh, that one? I saw it before too, in a communications group for vagrants.”

“Well, now it’s landed right in your laps… Don’t laugh, but I actually know who posted it. I asked a vagrant, and they sent me a picture of the person who put up the job. I took one look and realized—it’s Milton.”

“Right! Everyone, take note: the ‘Mr. Hat’ in the picture isn’t Milton himself. He’s probably an intermediary. If you find the person, don’t send them to him. Go straight to Milton. We can’t let a bastard like that intermediary make any money.”

“Though, setting that aside, who’s Milton?”

“Same here. Never heard of him…”

“Wait a second. This person seems familiar. Isn’t he the mercenary nicknamed the ‘Sideburn Lizard’? I heard he’s pretty capable.”

“That’s hilarious. So everyone’s capable now? A hundred of these so-called ‘talented figures’ die and pop up every day in Paloser.”

“Oh, Milton… I think I’ve heard that name too. Apparently, he’s got a nasty personality. A real bastard.”

“Ha, ha, ha! If mercenaries weren’t bastards, what would they be mercenaries for? Ha, ha, ha!”

The arguing continued beneath the post.

But Song Shi had already stopped paying attention.

“‘Tucker District Part-Time Job Group, Group One’

‘Mr. Hat: Brothers! There’s work! Find a place where this person has appeared—seventy credits. Photograph the person—one hundred and fifty credits. If you know where the person is right now, I’ll pay two thousand credits directly! If you find anything, message me privately first! The sooner, the better!’”

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Song Shi stared at the screenshot posted by the original poster and slowly narrowed his eyes.

Because the picture in the chat screenshot was unmistakably a clear photograph of him.

“…Not a wanted notice from the government or the corporations, but someone using the vagrants’ channels.”

“Mercenary. ‘Sideburn Lizard.’ Milton…”

Song Shi repeated the words slowly.

“So that’s how it is.”

“Then again, allowing a ‘volunteer’ to escape successfully, resulting in casualties and damage to the facilities… That’s a fairly serious dereliction of duty.”

“To avoid questioning and punishment from above, the institute’s management—most likely Keng and the other senior officials—suppressed the entire matter.”

“Heh. They didn’t report it to the Security Bureau or the corporation. Instead, they hired mercenaries privately to bring me back.”

“No. They want to find me for more than simply saving face and covering up the incident…”

Otherwise, it would have been better to ignore the matter entirely and pretend none of it had ever happened.

Song Shi opened his right hand. Flames sprang silently to life, then vanished in an instant.

There was also his identity as a “psionic.”

“With the surveillance footage, they know exactly how I awakened. And judging by everything that happened afterward…”

“The situation is actually better than I expected.”

Song Shi’s feelings were complicated.

At the time, in order to escape, he had been unable to conceal anything. His performance during his time at the institute had been far beyond that of an ordinary orphan from a welfare home—especially considering what someone with his original body’s background should have been capable of.

So he had already prepared himself for the corporation to heighten its scrutiny and launch an all-out search for this “abnormal individual.”

But Song Shi had never expected them to suppress the entire matter and choose to hire mercenaries privately.

Most of the above was merely speculation based on that post. Yet after reviewing the situation from the beginning and combining it with his past experience, Song Shi believed his deduction was highly accurate.

Even if every part of his reasoning was wrong, the mere knowledge that someone was searching for him through the vagrants was valuable enough.

“…A mercenary. Milton.”

Song Shi stared at the name, pondered for a moment, then nodded.

He reached for the suitcase beside him, opened it, and began checking his equipment.

“Forget it. I’ll deal with you first.”

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