After getting off the bus, we were handed something by Ms. Faust.
"Please take the envelope with your assigned number."
Fourteen... is this it?
"Everyone has taken theirs, I see. Follow me."
Even while guiding us, Ms. Faust never stopped talking.
"I'll explain the plan."
"The top priority in reaching the Golden Bough is to infiltrate the casino without incident."
"According to the information we obtained, there are three entrances in total."
"The door used by ordinary customers, the private passage reserved for VIPs only, and finally the back door used by employees."
"We'll split into three groups, one for each entrance... four disguised as casino dealers, five as ordinary customers, and four as VIP guests."
"Indeed, the larger the group, the more conspicuous it becomes."
"It is more appropriate to disperse than to move in a pack."
As Mr. Yi Sang and Ms. Otis said, fourteen people including Mr. Dante was certainly far too noticeable.
So splitting into three groups for an infiltration mission was inevitable.
"As for who will take which role, open the envelopes you were given and check."
She meant the envelopes we'd just received, right?
I instinctively touched the envelope marked 14 tucked against my chest.
"And if we fail to reclaim the Golden Bough even in this operation,"
"there were concerns from above that it would seriously disrupt our future plans."
"So this time, we're going with a joint operation."
A joint operation? With whom?
"
Mr. Dante seemed to have the same question as I did, and asked it with a ticking of his clock hands.
"Limbus Company's special unit, made up of more professional and seasoned personnel..."
"They're now called LCC, the Clear Department, I believe. In infiltration work, I can say they're superior to us."
Ms. Ishmael quietly complained to Ms. Faust.
"I already thought we had more than enough people."
"Looks like you've finally realized that numbers aren't what matter."
As Mr. Gregor said, quality mattered more than quantity.
"Wow! This is my first time seeing another department. Where are they?"
Mr. Hong Lu said that and looked around as if they might appear any second.
...Of course, even after looking around for quite a while, they never showed up.
"We're going to a pawnshop."
"Do places like that still exist these days?"
To Mr. Gregor's question, Ms. Faust replied.
"This area is even called Pawnshop Street, since most of the stores here also function as pawnshops."
Indeed, in a back alley where gambling flourished, pawnshops were inseparable from the place, so a street like this wasn't strange at all.
By the time my thoughts reached that point, Ms. Faust pointed to one of the shops and said, "That shop is our rendezvous point. Let's go in."
Clatter-clatter
The sound of the prisoners all entering the shop at once could be heard.
"Hey now, aren't you lot coming in a bit too all at once? This place is cramped enough as it is..."
"You want your fortune told with playing cards, or with mahjong tiles?"
The moment we entered, the first thing we saw was the curt greeting of a rat-like old man who seemed to be the shop owner.
Playing cards and mahjong? Was this some kind of fortune-telling place?
"What's he talking about?"
Mr. Heathcliff asked us that, apparently finding the shop owner's words rather abrupt.
"...Was I the only one who actually read the J Corp guidebook? Mr. Vergilius told us to read it once before he left, remember?"
"Ah, that booklet. I only skimmed it."
"Well, I think I saw the cover..."
Hearing us, Ms. Ishmael began explaining things to us in her own way.
"Here, the payout you can receive changes depending on the day's luck."
"If it's a good omen, they'll pay more, but the closer it gets to a bad omen, the less you'll get back—maybe not even your principal."
Come to think of it, I think there was something like that in one corner of the booklet.
I'd skipped over it because I didn't think it was important, but I should read it later.
"Ah~ come to think of it, my family even formally employed people who read fortunes."
Mr. Hong Lu, isn't that a bit too different in scale?
"Right before leaving home, I drew a great fortune from the fortune slip I'd looked at. It must have been foretelling that we'd all meet like this."
Mr. Hong Lu, that great fortune looks to me like it was already used up before you even joined us.
"Wow, so your fate was to live a carefree life in a wealthy household. I should pray to be born into such a fate next time."
"No thanks. People like that are usually even filthier when they're really at it."
"...Isn't that a little too harsh? Mr. Hong Lu is right in front of you..."
My attempt to stop Ms. Ishmael and Mr. Heathcliff didn't make it to the end.
The most unexpected person cut me off.
"That may be true. I also didn't like playing with my younger brother since I was little. He was always cheating and being petty."
"Right?"
Mr. Hong Lu said that and gave me a small wink.
...Maybe he's a lot more thoughtful than he seemed at first glance.
"No, that's not what I meant!"
"Are you lot getting your fortunes told or not?"
The shop owner, growing irritated from listening to us, barked at us and cut off the conversation.
Then, perhaps because our clothes caught his attention, he narrowed his eyes and began sizing us up.
"But... do you lot even have anything worth pawning? You all look..."
His wandering gaze swept over us one by one, then stopped at Mr. Dante.
"Oh ho... that clock head might actually fetch a price."
"How much do you figure it's worth, old man?"
""
Watching them, Ms. Faust seemed to feel the need to get back to the mission and said to the shop owner, "You may have been informed, but we're from Limbus Company..."
Unfortunately, no one was listening to her.
Well, no one except me and Mr. Dante, probably.
From over there came Mr. Hong Lu's voice, sounding as though he'd taken an interest in the pawnshop.
"Ah, this handkerchief... I brought it with me when I left home..."
"Oh ho... silk with dragon embroidery. The stitching is meticulous, so this would be... seven million... ann?"
What the hell. Seven million ann for a handkerchief?
The absurd number made my head turn on instinct.
And once I saw the handkerchief, my question faded almost immediately.
Uh... yeah, that's blatantly luxury-brand stuff.
And very high-quality luxury-brand stuff at that.
Enough to explain a price of seven million ann.
Of course, that was an assessment from the eyes of someone who'd lived fairly well, and naturally there were people among the prisoners gathered here who couldn't accept it.
"You're telling me a scrap of cloth costs that much?! Are your eyes rotted out or what, old man?!"
"What? You can't even recognize a fine item like this... Haa, no wonder you're wearing such a shabby old ring... tsk tsk."
...Wait, that ring is Mr. Heathcliff's trigger point...
"...What did you say?"
Before I could even think, Mr. Heathcliff turned back toward the shop owner in a low, cold voice I could hardly imagine hearing from him under normal circumstances.
"Aigoo, so noisy! Dante~ make these guys shut up~."
Just as the pawnshop's chaos was accelerating, an unfamiliar voice came from the entrance.
"We were worried, Faust."
A man with a gentle, soft voice and a slightly long ponytail walked into the mess of the pawnshop alongside a woman.
"The time we agreed to meet was four o'clock, but it's already fifteen minutes late. Surely you haven't forgotten how to read a clock, have you?"
"Yes, because I wasn't the one driving the bus."
Judging by the situation, were the man and woman who'd just arrived the people from the Clear Department?
"Ah, so that's why you're dragging around a clock person? Guess it doesn't have an alarm function."
...The man seemed to be extremely rude.
What kind of greeting was that on first meeting? Had he thrown social manners straight into the gutter?
"Hey, you guys? The ones who botched the Golden Bough recovery operation this time."
"We were told a team containing one of the City's top geniuses was involved, so people had high expectations."
"So that's why... Ms. Faust's expression kept looking bad."
Really? Was the Clear Department the kind of group that could even read Ms. Faust's expression?
"My expression has always been the same."
Ah, right?
I'd thought her face had been utterly unmoving, so I wondered if they'd somehow missed it.
Listening quietly to their conversation, Mr. Heathcliff seemed to remember something and pushed Mr. Yi Sang forward as he said, "Hey, why are you just standing there? He's got a brain too, you know. Don't ignore him."
But Mr. Yi Sang was thoroughly unimpressed.
"It is merely meaningless boasting."
"Weren't you pretty talkative even underground? Why are you suddenly being weird again?"
"I have always been strange."
"You... ha. Forget it."
Seeing that he didn't even draw his weapon, I suppose Mr. Heathcliff had given up.
"The first mission was a plan that already accounted for failure from the start."
"We needed time to confirm each person's potential."
Really?
Mr. Gregor, who seemed to be thinking the same thing I was, asked her back.
"...That's what it was?"
"A mission whose goal was failure from the beginning... it hardly deserves to be called a mission."
But the woman didn't seem interested in our first mission and started looking for someone else entirely.
"Where is Mr. Vergilius? I joined this operation because I thought I might at least get to see his face."
"He'd probably be embarrassed too. Imagine thinking he's traveling around with people like this."
"Keh... that bastard, did he deliberately drop us off far away? Because we were embarrassing?!"
Mr. Heathcliff bristled.
...But strangely, that sounds plausible.
Perhaps finding us frustrating, Ms. Ishmael said a word.
"...Why is it that nobody ever refutes the insults?"
"Well... because most of them are true?"
At my answer, Ms. Ishmael let out a long sigh and changed the flow of the conversation once.
"Haa... setting that aside, don't you know that if you're going to brag or posture, you at least need to introduce yourself first?"
It seemed we were finally going to hear the name of our helper this time.
"I am Rodya."
"And this is Mr. Meursault."
"We're from the Clear Department."
"You can call me the one who'll be helping you this time."
"Though if you want the formal title, it's the Clear Department's liaison."
"So, shall we get started?"
"We've got a lot to do."
"And not much time."
"Then let's stop wasting it."
"Right."
"..."
"..."
"...Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Because you're the only one who keeps talking."
"That's not true. I'm just being efficient."
"Sure, sure."
"Anyway, the plan is simple."
"We split up, infiltrate the casino, and meet back at the rendezvous point."
"If anything goes wrong, contact us immediately."
"Contact?"
"Yes. Contact."
"You do know what that means, right?"
"Of course I do."
"Then don't look so confused."
"I'm not confused."
"You absolutely are."
"..."
"..."
"This is going to be a long day."
"Indeed."
"Very."
"..."
"..."
"Why are you all so annoying?"
"Because that's our job."
"..."
"..."
"I hate this company."
"You're employed here, so that's a little late."
"...Shut up."
"Gladly."
"Now, open your envelopes and check your assignments."
"The operation begins immediately after."
"And try not to die."
"No promises."
"That's the spirit."
"..."
"..."
"What a bunch of lunatics."
"You're one to talk."
"I know."