Chapter 26
I caught myself mid-sentence and changed my words before saying 'dangerous'.
Even though I tried to change the subject, I didn't really have anything to say, so this was the best I could do.
“Anyway, why are you telling me such dangerous... no, valuable information, especially a story about a Megacorp like Militia?”
I caught myself mid-sentence and changed my words before saying 'dangerous'.
Because the way Detective Yangban's eyes were sparkling didn't seem ordinary.
Since I had just bravely mentioned the MILI-TAC Top Secret, 'Meta', it seemed he felt compelled to proudly bring out something similar himself.
If I had said it was dangerous, he would have been provoked, trying to show off all sorts of confidential top-secret knowledge to prove that such danger was nothing to him and that he wasn't scared at all.
Just imagining it makes me dizzy.
I absolutely refused any of those forbidden secrets.
I wasn't curious at all about the dirty past that the Megacorp ranked 2nd in the corporate overall ranking wanted to hide.
Just knowing things like that shortens your lifespan. The saying “ignorance is bliss” doesn't exist for nothing.
On the other hand, that crazy customer was still constantly looking for the right timing, as if he would open his mouth the moment he was given even a brief chance.
He looked like a moth rushing into the flames. The problem was that those sparks could fly onto me too.
I had to stop him at all costs. I had already made a huge slip of the tongue on my part.
Confidence to handle it if I got caught, my ass. Unlike the Detective's assumption, I didn't have something to rely on. It was literally just a mistake.
Why did I blurt that out? Was I really going crazy?
Even though I knew full well that all sorts of surveillance and listening devices installed by the corporations covered the entirety of Dusk City.
It seemed my brain wasn't in its right mind, probably due to the side effects of the switch.
That must be why I just blurted it out without a filter, as if I were drunk.
I regretted it immensely.
“Why am I telling you this story?”
The self-proclaimed Sherlock Holmes spoke leisurely to me as I nervously looked around, feeling like I wanted to tear my hair out.
“This is the most interesting topic. Chewing, tearing, and tasting the Megacorps at the top always makes for a fun conversation!
As for why I chose Militia in particular... well. I suppose you could say it's because it's the hot potato showing the most unconventional moves among all the Megacorps.”
The most unconventional moves, hot potatoes?
I suppressed my surging curiosity. No. Don't wonder about the reason. Just accept it.
As if he had found a gap in my defenses while I was repeating that to myself, the devil's voice suddenly dug into my ears.
“Watson, aren't you curious how Militia, which was once nothing more than a small machine parts manufacturer, grew into a super-large corporation worthy of being called a Megacorp? It isn't even an ordinary Megacorp.”
The Detective said, naturally pulling out his pipe tobacco from his pocket.
At a glance, this was also an electronic type smoked with liquid rather than tobacco leaves. It looked like wood on the outside, but in reality, it was probably made of plastic.
There was another pretentious guy right here, aside from the Rooster Comb Yakuza next door. With so many of these lunatics overflowing, it's no wonder fake cigarettes and fake pipes sell so well.
“While they were only ranked 5th or 6th in the corporate rankings just over a decade ago, they began repeating aggressive mergers and acquisitions a few years ago, rapidly expanding their business, and hitting the jackpot in every single one of those ventures...
Militia bypassed all sorts of prominent Megacorps and proudly took 2nd place in the overall rankings after doubling their weight class—with an irresistible force, that is.”
He said this while twirling the curved pipe with his fingers.
“It would be a lie to say there were no side effects to that rapid growth, but what does it matter? A corporation that used to be called butchers who only knew how to run weapon manufacturing and war business has now gotten its hands on capital and power. Militia is now aiming, in name and reality, for the hegemony of Dusk City, and furthermore, world hegemony...”
“Ah, stop. Stop. You can stop talking now.”
Terrified, I cut off the troublemaker detective's words.
Left alone, he was trying to keep going endlessly like a runaway locomotive.
How did the scale of the story grow all the way to world Hegemony?
I absolutely refuse to hear about that.
And in the first place,
“That's not the answer to the question I asked.”
“Hmm? What do you mean by that, Watson?”
“I asked why you were telling that story to 'me'. I know it's important information, but wouldn't it be inappropriate to confide in a mere bar staff member?”
It was a statement that implied I didn't want my head to fly off, so please tell someone other than me but...
Unfortunately, Mr. Self-proclaimed Sherlock Holmes didn't seem to understand at all.
This time it wasn't acting; he truly didn't understand the meaning of my words.
“Haha, Watson. It seems you're still a bit angry. To call yourself mere bar staff! You must be saying that because this Holmes tried to test you, but I sincerely apologize for that disrespect.
I must have been blind, failing to properly recognize the new Guardian of the Dragon even with you right in front of me!”
Here we go again. It was a bizarre situation where we were clearly speaking the same language, yet couldn't communicate.
Was it hard to understand because I wasn't yet used to the Dusk City language?
“That was the first Fallen Angel like that in my life. As for the taste, it was all just a factory-made mixed drink, no matter how much it went through Sey's hands, so there was nothing special about it... but originally, a Fallen Angel is a drink consumed with the eyes rather than the mouth.”
I did an amazing serving of the Fallen Angel thanks to borrowing the power of the mental switch, but what did that have to do with the current conversation?
“The structure of the liquor that forms slightly differently every time the glass is struck down, with an appropriate intensity that is neither overflowing nor lacking, and at the same time, a high-difficulty serving that requires a slamming performance with large movements that satisfy the customers' eyes!
Because of that, it's a cocktail I order quite often to see the capabilities of the bartenders or waiters, but I've never been as surprised receiving a Fallen Angel as I was today.”
I'm sure you were.
Because the bartenders and waiters you've met so far probably didn't mix cocktails by slamming them down as if to break the table right in front of your face.
That's what I thought, but it seemed that wasn't the only reason.
“I wouldn't have been surprised if you had just forcefully smashed the glass or the table, thrown the drink in my face, or swung your fist. That's already happened several times.”
“...You are truly amazing.”
He really was a pro-level troublemaker.
Then again, it's a World where everyone has become rough due to the harshness of life, where you can get shot just for saying the wrong thing.
If he provoked employees like that everywhere he went, it was a wonder he was still alive and well.
“But you answered me with the cocktail you handed over. It was the three sparkling tiers soaring as if to touch the sky, the intense destruction when they fell, and the mixture.
That was exactly the fall of an angel I had been searching for over many long years. It was that explosive moment that looked like watching the birth of the universe! Just thinking about it again leaves a lingering impression. It was truly beautiful.”
He shouted in an elevated tone as if giving a speech, gasping for breath.
...Is he on drugs? No, he hasn't even put the pipe in his mouth yet.
Whether he noticed my uncomfortable gaze or not, he continued speaking like a rapid-fire gun as soon as he caught his breath.
“As soon as I saw that, I realized how foolish I was. To dare test someone with such high-level and delicate technique! It's incredibly shameful.
Even knowing what kind of Dragon's Pool, Tiger's Den this Dragon's Lair is, I apologize once again, Watson. I misjudged you. I thought you were just an insignificant prospective employee, but I was wrong.”
“...Yes. Well. It's nothing. I was the one who was rude.”
Actually, I am just an insignificant Prospective Employee. But if he's going to misunderstand on his own, I'm just thankful.
Since he was apologizing, I readily accepted it and asked.
“So what does that have to do with what you were just talking about?”
"...What I was just talking about?"
At my question, the Self-proclaimed Sherlock Holmes paused and touched the electronic monocle over one eye, as if his brain was buffering.
He rolled the rotary dial button on the side of his glasses back and forth with his finger, as if rewinding our conversation up to this point.
He had been so absorbed in his own rambling that he didn't seem to remember what he had just been talking about.
“I was... right. Militia. I was definitely talking about Militia, about the secret to how Militia grew so rapidly to become a Megacorp that dominates Dusk! Well, aren't you curious?”
He chattered excitedly, as if he had finally remembered.
I couldn't feel even a shred of reliability from him. Wasn't everything he had said so far actually just made-up nonsense?
A guy like him was more than capable of doing that.
“It's top-secret information that I've never told anyone else, something only I know. I'm tipping you off specially, Watson, as an apology. It's a proper compensation for the disrespect I committed. Are you interested?”
Nevertheless, I couldn't ignore that calm gaze looking this way with a grin, the curved pipe in his mouth.
Thinking about it rationally, there was no way a troublemaker customer at an Alley Bar would know the secrets of a super megacorp, but for some reason, the thought of “what if?” kept popping into my head.
And that was exactly why I had to be careful.
“No. I'm not interested.”
I cut him off firmly and grabbed the wrist of the Troublemaker Detective just as he was about to press the pipe button and inhale the smoke.
“And our bar is no smoking by regulation. If you want to smoke, go outside.”
“Tch, so strict. As expected of an Asian.”
Always with the Asian remarks. When I glared at him, the Self-proclaimed Sherlock finally grumbled and put the pipe back into his pocket.
“Anyway, are you really not going to listen? It's an incredible high-grade information. Just knowing this...”
“I'm not listening. I won't listen.”
I'd be lucky not to get chased by Militia just for knowing it.
If it was fake information, there was no need to listen because it was fake, and if it was real information, it was dangerous, so I absolutely shouldn't know it.
Either way, it meant there was no reason to listen.
Because of my firm attitude, the Detective frowned and smacked his lips, his thick face showing it.
“Ugh... what a boring friend. Don't tell me you already know this too?”
“No. I don't know it at all. And I don't want to know.”
“I suppose so. No way. It's a clue I found after a really long investigation over many years, so there's no way you would know it. That makes no sense. Indeed, it doesn't.”
He muttered like that, nodding, his multiple chins jiggling, before speaking as if he suddenly remembered something.
“Come to think of it, this is a problem! I was originally going to give you that clue I found as an apology... but if you don't want it, it can't be helped.”
“Yes. You don't have to give it to me. Or if you really want to give me something, I'd gratefully accept money—.”
“Right! That's right. There was that. It's much more modest, but I should at least give you a light gift. As a piece of advice, make sure you don't miss the news and keep an eye on it.”
“...?”
What is he talking about?
More importantly, I think that guy just ignored me asking for money.
As I frowned, the self-proclaimed Holmes placed his completely eaten fried crickets and cocktail glass on the table and stood up, saying,
“There will be some interesting news about Militia published soon. Mwahahahaha!”
And with that, he finished paying and left briskly.
Gift, my ass. He left without a single tip, spouting incomprehensible nonsense until the very end.
How much time did I waste because of that damn guy?
Since a ton of work had piled up in the meantime, I moved hurriedly without even having the time to think about the meaning of the Detective's parting words.
I cleared the glass and plate the Detective left behind and moved my feet to attend to the other customers.
I worked for a long while after that.