ALL NOVEL chapter 52
Chapter 52
“Ha ha, I understand your surprise. Of course, there are many black markets in Mercato, the heart of the Free Planet Alliance. But the black market operated by our Geumyoung Group is of a different quality.”
He let Minsu’s excited guidance flow in one ear and out the other.
No matter how he thought about it, the name didn’t suit him.
Though he was slender, being half-elf, he was quite handsome, yet with a name like Minsu, it just felt…
Having thought that far, Jin Crow cut off his interest, silently mulling over the Free Planet Alliance while leaving behind the cacophony of music and the bizarre expressions of those engaged in hawking, all wearing LED masks.
‘In the Free Planet Alliance, when they speak of city-class planets, there is only Mercato.’
Of course, being called the Free Planet Alliance, there were subordinate planets as well.
The planet itself, so stained by factories and slums, that only the lower class would dare not even think of entering.
Wealth is concentrated solely in the capital star, Mercato, while all the undesirable facilities are shoved into the other planets to maintain their wealth.
Indeed, as one would expect from those steeped in capitalism, a culture that values efficiency has birthed this grotesque structure.
A nation forged by those who fled from their planets in search of freedom, now mixed with criminals and fugitives.
The term “normal” can only be seen as a joke.
“The Council and the Public Security Bureau are merely for show.”
The true power lies with five corporations.
No, three corporations, one family, and a union.
And they, in their organizations known as the Committee or the Owner’s Meeting, steer this gilded planet.
Mer Corporation.
Geumyeong Group.
Interstellar Transport Union (ITU).
Genorua Family.
Carpe Diem Entertainment.
“As much as this is fiction, it’s a bit much.”
Mer, holding the military supply contracts and various heavy industries.
Geumyeong, grasping the service and light industries.
The transport union, championing the rights of the lowly workers.
The mafia, overseeing the industries that dare not see the light.
The major entertainment companies, blocking the eyes and ears of the citizens.
Each, holding tight to their specialized fields, play the roles of crocodiles and their birds, cleaning each other’s teeth and sharing the spoils, completing a vast planetary cartel.
Some may wonder.
Isn’t it strange that, with a citizenry nearing ten billion, only five factions are allowed to divide the spoils while others simply watch?
The answer is simple.
“The ability and justification to crush dissenting forces.”
In the Free Planet Alliance, there are neither defense forces nor a national army.
To be precise, there were until the Second Galactic War, but the puppets of the Council, unable to withstand the Committee’s pressure and bribes, neatly surrendered.
Where would soldiers who lost their jobs overnight go?
The existing armed groups, which had effectively replaced the defense forces, saw a massive influx of military personnel, and as a result, the factions that had been sprouting sporadically in the Free Planet Alliance were all trampled and uprooted.
“…and that is all I know.”
Honestly, in the original *Galactic Chronicles*, the intertwining of the Free Planets Alliance and Baek Hwi-young was not so frequent.
If anything, it was more entangled with the Empire.
“So, what kind of stimulant are you looking for? Believe it or not, I have plenty of soldier friends around, and I know a lot about the different kinds…”
As I lifted my head from the swamp of thoughts, the voice of Min-soo, who had been incessantly talking even while half-listening, reached my ears once more.
“Hm, can you recommend a few?”
“Of course. Let me see… Ah! From what I gather…”
The stimulant I needed was already determined.
Because of that, Jin Crow resumed his thoughts, leaving behind the now animated Min-soo.
‘Stimulant. And soldiers.’
At first, when they mentioned stimulants, I thought, ‘Is it about their physical condition?’ But surprisingly, as I cooled my head and mulled it over, it wasn’t such a strange notion.
Isn’t it an unexpectedly fundamental combination?
In the Maya era, they supplied the military with coca leaves to chew on, and in the *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, Gan Ning drank with a hundred Spartans and struck at the Wei territory.
Even Adolf, who killed Hitler, Mr. Gallipoli, and the unparalleled Emperor FDR of America all favored such things—what more needs to be said?
It’s not a matter of good and evil.
Just because one wears a uniform doesn’t mean they suddenly become Captain America; soldiers are human too, always feeling the fear of death.
‘Let alone now, fighting in space?’
Perhaps the sheer number of people makes it hard to grasp, but in a single war, hundreds of millions perish.
When a ship runs aground or malfunctions, it explodes in an instant, and if they assault the ground, the trench warfare of a bygone era awaits.
Is that all?
The special officers of the Synthesized Nation, the superhumans known as knights of the Empire, can slaughter hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands single-handedly.
Isn’t it strange to endure all that with a clear mind?
Thus, for soldiers, stimulants are friends.
And isn’t it true that a friend who leads you with honest words feels less warm than one who tempts you into mischief?
“Are you listening?”
“That was an impressive recommendation. Especially the last part was quite moving.”
“Ah, yes. Haha…”
I snapped back to reality at the secretary’s words.
For some reason, I awkwardly smiled, then turned my gaze back to the scene of the black market, which I had only half-registered moments before.
“Look, an android that has annihilated its own personality for just 500,000 dollars! What a steal!”
“High-quality Shangri-La wine smuggled from the Empire! Buy a box and get a 10% discount!”
“Hehe. Customer, if we sell it like this, what’s left for us…”
Though it appeared like a lawless zone at first glance, there was a certain order to it.
The beggars seen on the platform were nowhere to be found, and the merchants, each adorned with symbolic masks, engaged in their hawking, skillfully skirting the line of propriety as they ensnared passersby.
Of course, that didn’t mean the goods they sold were legal.
“……”
Jin Crow stared for a moment at the secretary standing beside him, then turned his gaze to a sign glimmering with the images of Chinese characters and noodles.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, that’s the dining area. Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
“Then I’ll quickly go and place an order! Please follow me!”
The sight of his long limbs flailing as he dashed away was quite amusing.
Jin Crow watched him for a moment, and as he grew distant, he turned his body to begin scanning the various awakening agent shops he had seen so far.
‘There’s no need to be shadowed by a watchdog.’
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason.
There was too much chatter.
The lively prattling of the young man was not particularly welcome to him, especially after dealing with the troublemaking cadets.
As he walked, lost in thought for a few minutes, he approached a woman wearing an LED mask shaped like a plush doll, her figure likely to have brought many a man to tears.
“I’d like to see the awakening agents.”
“Hmm? A first-time customer, huh? Then I should give you a good deal. Here, this is called Korphin. Specially priced at one million dollars for a bundle… Huh? Where are you going? Hey!”
Without hesitation, Jin Crow turned on his heel.
It wasn’t that he knew the price.
He hadn’t intended to buy anything in the first place.
‘One million dollars… I should start at three hundred thousand.’
After all, the art of overcharging begins with doubling the base price.
So, the actual price would likely be five hundred thousand dollars.
And to wear such an overtly revealing outfit while clinging to a man so familiarly was a blatant declaration of intent to fleece the unsuspecting.
There was no need to go far.
He had seen that very scene played out countless times, merely with the genders swapped as he passed through the streets.
“Looking for awakening agents, are you? Let’s see. Our goods are smuggled from the United Human Synthesis, so they come at a price. No less than one hundred fifty thousand dollars…”
“300,000.”
“Hey, that’s a bit much, don’t you think? How about I take a special loss and we settle at 1,200,000…”
“300,000.”
“…Come on, man. Do you think it’s easy to find something like this anywhere else? Fine, I won’t let myself be treated like a fool, so let’s agree on 900,000.”
“300,000.”
“You stubborn b*stard. 750,000.”
“300,000.”
“600,000. If you’re not buying, then get lost.”
This isn’t too bad.
Trying to haggle further would only breed resentment.
In a flash, witnessing the miracle of 900,000 being slashed, Jin Crow was quite satisfied to purchase a few of the stimulants often used by the superhumans in the original work.
However, it was clear that their effects would pale in comparison to the Pentacle, so he did inquire about it.
“Pentacle? Ha, you must be out of your mind. Why would I sell that?”
The burly merchant, looking rather displeased after having his price cut down to 900,000, shoved an electronic cigarette into the mouth of his mask and replied curtly.
He must be feeling quite queasy.
Because of that, Jin Crow silently slipped him an additional 50,000, and upon seeing this, the merchant rubbed his hands together as if to say, “When did I ever act difficult?”
“Well, you see. The Pentacle is, uh, quite dangerous, isn’t it? I’ve heard that a regular person who hasn’t undergone any procedures melts their nerves and brain the moment they inject it. It’s hard to find and doesn’t sell well at all… Hehe.”
It was a sufficiently plausible explanation.
Moreover, the stimulants he had purchased as a temporary measure only activated drug addiction for about ten minutes, yet they were still considered powerful.
How potent, then, would the steam packs for superhumans be?
Even while rubbing his palms together, the merchant’s gaze clearly conveyed, “If you want to hear more, show me the money.” Jin Crow handed over another 50,000, and indeed, true to his black market merchant nature, the man began to spill just the information Jin was hoping for.
“There’s a legendary senior in our line of work. If you go to his pharmacy, you might find it. I can share the location via Watch…”
As expected of a planet where souls are sold for money, the merchant provided a service that matched the value paid.
It was quite pleasing.
As a result, Jin Crow followed the map shared by the merchant, winding through the alleys of the black market until he arrived at a shabby pharmacy.
“Han-Sarang Pharmacy”
“…Did the sense of naming get sacrificed for the sake of selling one’s soul?”
Min-soo was the same; there was something off about him.
Perhaps it was only natural.
Since the author of the Galactic Chronicles is Korean, he might have hidden such humor as a sort of inside joke.
He opened the door to the apothecary, his mind swirling with thoughts.
“Hmm?”
What met his eyes was quite peculiar.
“Who are you?”
White hair, wispy and wild.
A face masked by the visage of a plague doctor.
And a long pipe, skewered at an angle, incongruous with the white coat draped over him.
As he gazed at the old man, unsure of where to begin his inquiries, the elder clicked his tongue lightly and muttered something incomprehensible.
“Oh dear. A guest, is it? A night visitor, I see.”
Without hesitation, the old man plunged his hand into the depths of his doctor’s coat, drawing forth a tough-looking gun that resembled a Thompson submachine gun, aiming it squarely at Jin Crow.
“Fear not. I’m quite adept at puzzles, so perhaps half of your corpse might find its way back to your family.”
Jin Crow blinked in surprise for a moment before raising both hands in surrender.
“I’m just a guest, old man.”
Of course, the words did not come out as politely as one might hope.