The Great Wish - Chapter 33: The Present and Future Intersect (1)

The Main Office of Raad Trading Company.

In a hidden underground chamber accessed through a secret passage, a dozen men, dressed in black from head to toe, had gathered.

Their black garments, crafted using a special weaving technique, were extremely durable, able to withstand most attacks. While not as protective as armor, the attire was light and did not restrict movement, making it ideal for quick, stealthy maneuvers.

They wore black hoods, leaving only their eyes and mouths exposed. The sword hilts hanging from their waists were dark brown, and the scabbards were black.

Everyone remained silent. Although they were usually jovial, they knew when to act appropriately. Before important missions, they would calm themselves in silence. While no one was talking, their postures were relaxed. Some leaned against the walls, while others sat on the floor.

The door opened, and three men entered. They had not yet donned their hoods, so their faces were still visible.

Kuhn surveyed the men standing in line. Behind him stood Martin and Russ.

“You all know what today’s mission entails, right?”

“Yes, Kuhn,” the dozen men replied firmly in low voices.

“We strike quietly and swiftly. No one is to escape. If possible, don’t kill anyone. However, if you feel threatened, don’t hesitate. No one among us should be injured tonight.”

“Yes, Kuhn.”

Kuhn extended his hand to the side, and Martin placed a hood in it. Kuhn and his twin brother donned their hoods.

“Let’s go.”

As Kuhn turned, the sword hilt and scabbard hanging from his waist were entirely black.

The carriages departing from Rad Trading Company sped through the dark night. As it was nearly midnight, the streets were empty.

The carriages briefly paused on the western street before resuming their journey, now empty. Meanwhile, the men in black seamlessly blended into the shadows, slipping into the depths of the western alley.

Their footsteps were nearly soundless as if they barely skimmed the ground. They had run across desert sands that swallowed their legs up to their shins. Now, on hard stone, they moved as if they were flying.

While most people were deep asleep at this hour, the night in the back alleys was just beginning. Some figures roamed like ghosts in the dark slums, serving as the area’s sentinels.

The force that controlled the alleys had its guards on watch, and the current ruler of the backstreets was Olga.

“!”

A man collapsed without even a chance to scream. A masked figure had struck his pressure point, rendering him unconscious in an instant. The assailant caught the falling man and quietly laid him on the ground.

Like outer perimeter guards of a military unit, sentries stationed throughout the area fell silently, one after another.

Though not highly skilled, the sentries had sharp senses and were quick on their feet. Their role wasn’t to fight intruders but to raise the alarm if someone infiltrated the area.

But none fulfilled their duty. Without even letting out a brief cry, they were effortlessly knocked out.

There’s a common misconception about the Kaligo mercenary group. People often think of Kaligo as a brute force, a group that flaunts its power. This is partly intentional, as Kaligo has fostered such a reputation.

In truth, Kaligo specialized in ambushes and was most confident in assassination.

For them, honorable duels or one-on-one combat were the last resorts.

They aimed to annihilate their enemies with minimal sacrifice. The terrifying reputation that “not even a blade of grass remains after Kaligo passes through” was earned in this way.

The outer defenses of the back alleys crumbled with disheartening ease.

Kaligo had extensive experience wiping out underground organizations like this one in other kingdoms on the continent. After all, such groups all operated in similar ways.

For people like these, there was no concept of a last stand. The moment things turned unfavorable, they would abandon everything and flee. If your goal was more than just driving them out, you had to strike quickly and leave them no escape.

Kuhn’s objective wasn’t to drive out Olga or annihilate the group. He absolutely had to recover what they had taken.

Evita was in the middle of a client consultation. The client was a noblewoman from a well-known family. She had come, certain her husband was cheating but lacking concrete evidence, and had asked Evita to find proof.

Her tears were accompanied by the coldest demeanor. Unlike the typical betrayed woman one might expect, the noblewoman’s gaze was sharp, and her expression, icy.

“Make sure to gather thorough evidence.”

“Yes, don’t worry. We’re very thorough with our work,” Evita said, though inwardly she thought, Do I really need to do this kind of work? Still, the money was good.

The door suddenly swung open, and a man rushed in, causing Evita to frown.

“What’s all this commotion? We have a guest here,” she scolded.

“Master, something terrible has happened. Right now—”

Before the man could finish his sentence, the door opened again. Several men, clad in black masks, strode in. The one in front threw a limp body—one of Olga’s men—onto the floor.

“Aaah!” screamed the noblewoman. Her shrill cry snapped Evita back to full attention.

Evita slowly edged backward, pressing her back against the wall. Her hands fumbled for the hidden mechanism that opened a secret passage in the wall.

Swish!

A dagger whizzed past her, grazing the side of her face and embedding itself in the wall. Evita froze in place, paralyzed with fear.

“Aaaah! Aaaah!” The noblewoman screamed at the top of her lungs, the sound sharp enough to make one’s ears ache.

One of the masked men quickly threw a sack over the noblewoman’s head and dragged her out. Her screams soon faded into silence.

“It would be troublesome if you harm her,” Evita said, swallowing nervously. She was addressing a man who had emerged from between the masked figures, parting as they stepped aside for him.

“…Lord Kuhn of House Raad? Or should I address you as the leader of the Kaligo mercenaries?” she asked, recognizing the sword at his waist. All the masked men bore black swords, revealing their identity outright. They clearly had no intention of hiding who they were.

In a way, this was even more dangerous than secrecy. It could mean they had no intention of leaving any witnesses.

Kuhn calmly removed his mask, showing no hesitation, as if he’d never planned on hiding in the first place. Upon seeing his face, Evita felt her breath catch in her throat. The aura he exuded was different from the last time she’d seen him, but not unfamiliar. She remembered this chilling presence from the first time they met. Why had she forgotten the intense fear she had felt that day?

Evita had met Kuhn several times while taking on contracts or selling information. Few in the underworld had seen the leader of Kaligo as often as she had.

Surprisingly, the infamous leader was a reasonable man who paid generously for his jobs. Compared to the obnoxious nobles who assigned petty tasks and threw tantrums, he was a gentleman.

How foolish of me. Even I wear different faces depending on the situation, she thought.

The man standing before her now was not the same Lord Rad she had dealt with so many times before. He was the ruthless butcher and leader of Kaligo, who would kill without hesitation.

It was no surprise that Olga’s guards had been so easily overpowered. Though Olga’s base was within a powerful empire, their military strength was weak, largely due to the tight security in the capital. If Olga had ever posed a real threat to public order, the empire would have crushed them long ago.

To Kaligo, Olga was nothing more than a light snack. After all, Kaligo was infamous for dismantling underground organizations across the borders of several countries.

Kuhn pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing his arms as he gestured for Evita to sit.

“Sit,” he ordered with a small nod.

Evita glanced around. The masked men were blocking the exits. There was no chance of escape, and her attempt to flee through the secret passage had already failed. If she tried again, she might find a dagger aimed at her throat next.

Reluctantly, she edged over to the table. At least the fact that Kuhn was willing to talk meant things hadn’t yet taken the worst possible turn.

“You’re rather intense. If you’d given me a heads-up, I would’ve prepared a more fitting welcome,” she said, forcing a saleswoman’s smile.

“You’ve acquired something you shouldn’t have,” Kuhn replied, his voice low and devoid of emotion.

Evita’s mind raced. She immediately understood what he was referring to.

That must be it!

She had recently come into possession of some confidential information about the Rad family. Even within Olga’s organization, knowledge of this was kept highly secret. Only Evita and a few key figures knew about it. If none of those key members had betrayed her, it meant Kaligo had tracked the information down on their own.

Is Kaligo’s information network really that good?

The rumors that once you’re on Kaligo’s hit list, the only way out is death seemed to be no exaggeration.

Evita kept her composure, tilting her head in feigned confusion.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to…”

Thud. Kuhn placed his black-handled sword on the table, making Evita’s eyes widen. The gesture was far more effective than any verbal threat.

“Do I look like I’m here to negotiate?” His voice remained calm, which made it all the more chilling.

Evita shut her mouth, her mind racing. Only a few people knew the location of the item Kuhn was after, and she was the only one who knew exactly where it was hidden. There was no way Kaligo would find it on their own, as it was in a place they’d never imagine.

But if she denied knowing anything, there was no chance they’d simply leave. If she wanted to negotiate and receive proper compensation, she’d have to gamble on Olga’s very survival.

It was a risky bet. If Kaligo decided negotiations were too bothersome, they might just slaughter everyone without leaving a single survivor.

Negotiation… The thought sent a cold shiver down her spine. Her instincts screamed a warning: Don’t do it.

What a waste.

She could’ve sold the information for a fortune.

Maybe I should’ve sold it after all, she thought bitterly. Recently, she’d been tempted by an offer to sell that very piece of intelligence. Duke Rimone had reached out, wanting information on House Raad.

It wasn’t unusual for people to seek information on Lord Raad, and Evita had always sold only what she deemed safe. But the Duke’s offer had been different.

“Do you have anything special?”

“What level of ‘special’ are we talking about?”

“Get me something that could be Lord Raad’s weakness, and you’ll be generously rewarded.”

The Duke’s house had even promised to help her clean up her status in exchange. They had offered to make her a commoner despite her origins in the slums, providing a very specific plan.

“For adults, we can register them under the records of missing or deceased individuals. As for newborns, we can create new records each month.”

People born in the slums could never escape its confines. Many resigned themselves to it or adapted to the lifestyle, but almost all wanted something better for their children.

Evita had been seriously tempted. With the Duke’s influence, it was definitely possible. After all, the Duke was the uncle of the Silver King, the most likely candidate for the imperial throne.

If the Duke hadn’t been called back to his territory for an urgent matter, the deal might have progressed much further.

Sigh.

Evita let out a sigh of resignation. She decided to trust her instincts. In hindsight, it was probably better that she hadn’t sold the information to the other party—who knows what disaster would have followed if Kaligo had barged in afterward?

“First, I need to check if all our members are safe,” she said.

Kuhn gave a signal to one of the masked men, who left the room and returned shortly with a middle-aged man. The man, pale as a ghost, was one of Olga’s higher-ups. Evita gestured for him to come closer, and he did so, glancing nervously around.

“Is everyone alright?”

“A few have cracked heads and broken limbs, but everyone’s still breathing,” the man replied.

“Are you sure? If you’re lying, you’ll be the first to die.”

“Honestly, it might have been better if one of them had died,” the man grumbled. “They’re all cowering like scared pigeons with their heads down.”

Evita breathed a sigh of relief. She understood the situation. If the circumstances were truly desperate, the men might fight back with reckless abandon, but as long as there was a chance of surviving by playing it safe, they had no qualms about being cowards. In this line of work, shame was secondary to survival.

With no deaths, Evita felt her nerves ease a bit.

“The item is at the Black Roof Tavern,” she admitted. It was one of the bars Olga operated. Occasionally, they replaced the rotting floorboards, and during a recent renovation, they had hidden the item beneath the new floor. Unless someone tore up the floor, it would remain undetected—a secure hiding spot.

As she explained the location, Evita clicked her tongue in regret. The secret hiding place she had kept to herself had now been exposed. She wouldn’t be able to use it again. Soon, the information would likely spread among Olga’s members, and opportunists would start ripping up floors everywhere, hoping for a score.

Kuhn tilted his head slightly and gave the order, “Go.”

Two masked men escorted the senior member of Olga’s group out of the room. While they waited for the men to return with the item, Evita attempted to strike up a conversation.

“Olga is an information network, you know. This kind of robbery violates the rules.”

“Did you see the contents?” Kuhn asked, his voice cold.

Evita widened her eyes and shook her head vigorously. Who would be foolish enough to admit that here?

Kuhn didn’t believe her. There was no way she hadn’t looked at something valuable enough to bury beneath the floor. She might have even made a copy.