NOVPUBClaude lay back, staring at the ceiling with his eyes closed. Of all the things he had endured in life, being told to impersonate a corrupt official to infiltrate criminal organizations was a new low.
“When did my reputation sink this far?”
Was it when he gambled with the lord? Or perhaps when he enslaved Alfoy just like everyone else? Maybe it was when he skimmed off gold coins during secret deals with the merchant guild? Or was it when he sweet-talked his colleagues and juniors into following his schemes?
Whatever it was, it felt unjust. Entirely unjust. He shouted his frustration out loud.
"I am not a corrupt official! And what’s with that nickname—‘The Bribe King’? Bribe King! That’s all because of the lord’s orders!"
"Are you sure about that?"
"I didn’t take that much! I just needed extra money for living expenses!"
"...Wait, you actually took bribes? And Wendy let you get away with it?"
Indeed, Wendy had turned a blind eye when Claude had skimmed a little gold from the merchant guild in the past. Embarrassed, Claude quickly changed the subject.
"No, that’s not it! What exactly do you want me to do with these criminal organizations?"
"We’ll talk about the bribe situation later. For now, the problem is they keep going into hiding, making it hard to root them out. Somehow, you need to gather them together and figure them out."
"And how am I supposed to do that?"
"That’s up to you to decide. Start by trying to get friendly with them."
"But I’m terrible at acting! Even if I get close to them, they’ll see right through me in no time!"
"No, you can do it. Just put your heart into it."
"My heart? How am I supposed to put my heart into something like this? I despise corruption with every fiber of my being!"
Despite Claude’s protests and frantic outbursts, Ghislain remained unmoved. No matter how much Claude objected, he was the perfect man for the job.
Although he vehemently denied it, Ghislain was certain that the criminals would recognize Claude’s true talent.
Faced with Ghislain’s firm decision, Claude had no choice but to begin the task.
"Ugh, fine. At least I should come up with a proper operation name or something."
After pondering for a moment, Claude lazily named the mission “Bug Extermination” and summoned Lowell.
"Hey, find me a good place to connect with those criminals. Tell them I’ll meet them myself."
"That’ll be tricky. Lately, they’ve been extra cautious and hard to approach."
"Just do it without complaining! If I say I’ll meet them, they’ll agree. It’s me—Claude!"
Lowell grumbled internally as he complied.
"You’re the one who complains the most."
"What was that?"
"Ah, nothing! Now that I think about it, if it’s you, Lord Administrator, they’ll definitely agree. I’ll get right on it."
Lowell rushed off to find the criminal organizations.
The underworld had gone quiet after the Plundering King swept through it. Even petty thugs were lying low.
While this was a good thing for the citizens, it wasn’t ideal for Ghislain, who sought to eradicate crime completely from his territory.
Lowell, poring over the records, eventually identified one group that hadn’t yet been crushed by the Plundering King.
"The Blue Skull Gang. They should do. Their leader is said to be a bit dense and reckless."
The Blue Skull Gang was a relatively small organization specializing in producing and distributing hallucinogens. They operated discreetly, catering to wealthy clients.
They had managed to survive by supplying drugs to a high-ranking member of Desmond’s inner circle, who had protected them.
Originally herb dealers, they had shifted to more illicit trades after the Plundering King’s raid forced them to relocate.
Lowell pieced together scattered information to locate the address of their current operation.
When he arrived at the address, he found a large building with an elegant signboard that read:
[Taste of Fantasy]
"...Really?"
It had apparently transformed into a trendy restaurant, gaining a reputation as a hotspot. Forced to abandon their criminal activities, they had turned to legitimate business.
Lowell decided to step inside. The building was pristine, likely newly built, and bustling with patrons. Judging by their attire, most of the customers were fairly well-off.
"Welcome!"
A server, dressed in a somewhat provocative outfit, greeted him warmly. Scratching his chin, Lowell thought to himself.
"So that’s why this place is popular, huh?"
Once seated, the server handed him a menu and began explaining.
"Our restaurant uses a secret, special sauce to create flavors you won’t find anywhere else! It’s a bit pricey, but you’ll find it’s worth every coin!"
"Hmm..."
After deliberating for a moment, Lowell ordered the most expensive dish. After all, this was the perfect use of public funds.
"I’ll have the Taste of Fantasy Special Full-Course Meal."
"And how would you like the sauce? Rich, light, or standard?"
"Uh... rich, I guess?"
If he was spending this much, he might as well go all out.
"Got it! This is our restaurant’s finest dish—please look forward to it!"
Soon, the food arrived. The presentation and aroma were as lavish as a noble’s banquet.
Swallowing his saliva, Lowell picked up a piece of meat, thoroughly coated in the fragrant sauce.
As he bit into it, the tender meat melted in his mouth, and the rich sauce exploded with flavor. Having rarely tasted such luxurious food, Lowell was overcome with delight as he chewed.
Then, his eyes widened.
"It’s... it’s delicious! Insanely so!"
The taste was so incredible it felt like he was hallucinating.
Tears streaming down his face, Lowell thought bitterly.
"What the hell did these maniacs put in this food...?"
Lowell froze. Eating any more would be dangerous—he could already feel himself growing addicted. Now, he understood why the "secret sauce" was kept so tightly under wraps.
"Criminal scum like this should never be left unchecked." Even while lying low, they had found a way to operate under the guise of legitimate business.
It was unlikely that most patrons knew what was in the sauce, but Lowell had a dark past. During his time serving under Count Digald, he had managed several criminal networks, including organizations dealing in strange substances.
The dizziness and surreal flavor he experienced now left no doubt in his mind. He knew exactly what kind of madness was behind this taste.
As Lowell teared up, the waitress approached him with a concerned expression.
"Oh my! Are you alright? Does the food not suit your taste?"
"No... It just reminds me of an old, familiar flavor..."
"Ah, like your mother’s cooking? Our dishes are quite extraordinary, aren’t they? Hohoho."
"No, not like that... You lunatics."
Lowell pushed his plate away and stood. Addressing the waitress, he spoke firmly.
"Could I speak to the manager?"
"And what... might this be about?"
Her expression betrayed a hint of suspicion, but Lowell didn’t flinch.
"The food is exquisite. I’d like to recommend this place to a noble I serve. Bring the manager."
After some hesitation, the waitress nodded. It wasn’t something she could handle herself anyway.
Before long, a well-dressed man approached, bowing politely.
"I’ve been informed of the situation. How can I assist you?"
Lowell glanced him up and down before speaking. There was no need to mince words with someone so clearly entrenched.
"Do you want to keep your business running?"
"...Excuse me?"
"I’m here on behalf of the Administrator. We already know everything about your operations."
The manager’s eyes widened, trembling with uncertainty. Lowell ignored the reaction and pressed on.
"I understand the Plundering King’s interference has made things difficult. The Administrator is willing to resolve this. He requests a meeting with your boss in two days, at night. Be prepared to receive him."
"...I’m not sure I understand—"
"Two days. If you stay in hiding, we’ll crush this place and hunt every last one of you down. Understand?"
Without waiting for an answer, Lowell turned to leave. Just before stepping out, he glanced back with a smirk.
"Oh, and stop messing with the food. Before we toss you all in prison. What was it you said? ‘A mother’s touch’? Does your mother season her cooking with drugs?"
"...Understood."
A Gang Leader’s Dilemma
After Lowell left, his message reached Morbin, the leader of the Blue Skull Gang.
With the territory under new leadership, Morbin had decided to lay low. The noble who once protected them had already lost his head to Ghislain.
The Plundering King’s relentless actions had prevented them from expanding their operations amidst the chaos. Forced into a quiet life, they had even shifted to a legitimate business to survive.
But now, the new Administrator’s request for a meeting was suspicious.
"Damn it... How did they find us? Did someone from our old contact leave a trail?"
Morbin couldn’t fathom how their location had been uncovered so quickly.
There were only two options: meet with the Administrator and uncover his intentions, or abandon the territory entirely.
"It won’t be easy to establish ourselves somewhere new."
The underworld in other territories would already have its own established networks, supported by other nobles. Breaking into such areas would be no simple feat.
Even so, meeting directly with the Administrator carried its own risks. It could be a trap to lure them out of hiding.
As Morbin wrestled with these thoughts, one of his subordinates cautiously spoke up.
"Boss, haven’t you heard the rumors about the Administrator?"
"Rumors? What rumors?"
"They call him the Bribe King of the North."
"The Bribe King of the North?"
"Yes, it’s a well-known nickname. Haven’t you heard? Even the common folk are talking about it."
"Really? He’s that famous?"
Living in the shadows, Morbin had missed the gossip. The chaos caused by the Plundering King had also kept his focus elsewhere.
After sending his men to gather more information, Morbin received consistent reports.
"He’s a notorious bastard."
"Every merchant that’s dealt with the territory has been bled dry."
"They say he’s taking advantage of the post-war chaos to rake in as much as he can."
The stories painted the Administrator as a textbook corrupt official.
Hearing all this, Morbin finally smiled slyly.
"So, the new Administrator just wants a cut of our profits, huh? Looking for a sponsor, are we?"
Crime would never truly disappear as long as humans coexisted. Most nobles and officials turned a blind eye to underworld activities, so long as the gangs didn’t overstep their bounds.
Many even used them for dirty work, taking kickbacks in return. Count Desmond himself had operated that way, allowing criminal organizations to thrive as long as they didn’t disrupt his governance.
With this understanding, Morbin made his decision.
"Fine. I’ll meet the Administrator. Prepare a warm welcome."
The Meeting
On the appointed night, the Taste of Fantasy restaurant closed early. The gang prepared an elaborate feast to greet their guest.
Morbin inspected every detail meticulously. A good impression on the new Administrator, their potential benefactor, was crucial.
As night fell, a subordinate hurried to Morbin’s side.
"The Administrator has arrived."
"Let’s go greet him."
Adjusting his attire and plastering a welcoming smile on his face, Morbin strode to the entrance.
Morbin's welcoming smile froze on his face.
The man who entered, accompanied by a single robed attendant, could only be described as eccentric.
“Ah, why is my body so heavy today?” Claude exclaimed dramatically, staggering as if weighed down by the ostentatious accessories he wore.
Morbin’s eyes twitched. The man’s appearance was bizarre for someone claiming to be the Administrator of an entire territory.
Claude's hat was adorned with dozens of bird feathers, a thick golden necklace dangled from his neck, and his outfit was cluttered with gaudy trinkets and ornaments. It was almost comical, but the sheer extravagance was unnerving.
Breathing heavily, Claude asked, “You? Are you the boss here?”
Morbin narrowed his eyes, suspicion thick in his gaze.
The rumors said the Administrator was corrupt, but this was beyond what he had imagined. The man looked as though corruption had taken physical form. Even wealthy nobles didn’t typically dress like this.
Morbin shot a questioning look to his subordinates, silently asking if this was truly the Administrator. They responded with hesitant shrugs. None of them had seen Claude’s face before.
Despite Claude's active presence in the Desmond region, he was often surrounded by a large entourage, making it difficult for anyone to get a clear look at him. Furthermore, he had only recently arrived, focusing mostly on administrative tasks and avoiding direct engagement with lowly criminals.
Morbin finally broke the silence, his voice sharp.
“Are you truly the Administrator of this territory?”
“What? You don’t recognize me?” Claude turned to his attendant, visibly offended. “Wendy, they don’t know who I am. Can you believe this?”
The attendant, Wendy, remained silent, her hood concealing her face.
Claude’s indignation only grew. How dare these criminals fail to recognize the Administrator of their land? His ego, inflated by his position and Ghislain’s growing strength, couldn’t comprehend the slight.
Morbin shook his head slightly.
“It’s difficult to believe that the Administrator of a major territory would arrive with only a single attendant...”
His subordinates, sensing the doubt in their leader’s voice, began to exude a subtle but growing menace.
The situation seemed absurd. No high-ranking official would come to such a meeting alone. And the robed figure accompanying him? She looked more like a maid than a bodyguard. If this was truly the Administrator, where were his knights or guards?
“Looks like this is some fool trying to impersonate him,” Morbin thought. “If he’s here without proper protection, he must’ve kept this meeting a secret. In that case... we could kill him right here and bury the body. No one would ever know.”
It was the kind of ruthless calculation only a criminal would make.
At a subtle nod from Morbin, his subordinates began to close in, slowly encircling Claude and Wendy.
But before they could fully surround the pair, Wendy’s robe fluttered slightly.
Thwack! Thwack!
“Guh...”
With a dull thud, two gang members collapsed to the floor, daggers buried deep in their foreheads.
Morbin’s face turned ghostly pale as he took in the sight.
Wendy hadn’t even moved from her spot. The daggers had flown so fast that he hadn’t even seen her raise her hand.
The two men hadn’t managed a single sound before hitting the ground.
Morbin instinctively stepped back, his confidence shattered. This wasn’t some random imposter.
“You...” he stammered, his voice trembling.
Claude smirked, brushing some dust off his extravagant necklace as if the violence was a trivial matter.
“Well, now that we’ve established that I’m the Administrator,” he said nonchalantly, “shall we talk business?”
Wendy didn’t say a word, but the oppressive aura emanating from her was enough to keep the remaining gang members rooted in place, their earlier bravado evaporating into thin air.
Morbin gulped. This was no ordinary bureaucrat.
Claude continued, his tone casual but laced with authority.
“I’ll make this simple. You cooperate with us, or...” He gestured toward the two bodies on the floor. “...you can join them.”
For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air.
Finally, Morbin forced himself to nod, his earlier thoughts of defiance replaced by sheer survival instinct.
“Yes, of course... Administrator.”
