The Delivery

Liao Ji slammed the butt of his gun into the back of Fredre's head. The doctor dropped to the ground with a thud, knocked completely unconscious.

In the office, silence settled once more. Liao Ji felt someone clutching the hem of his coat.

He turned and saw Irin, the girl already paralyzed with panic and helplessness. Her face was pale with fear, her eyes unfocused, and she seemed utterly lost.

Her mother was the only family she had in this world. If she lost her, Irin didn't know how she could go on living. And then there was the thought that her mother had been sold to the cleaners—those ruthless people who treated human lives as worthless.

To satisfy their clients, they would dismember their victims without hesitation and sell off every valuable "part."

They wouldn't even be "kind" enough to use anesthetic. They would let their victims scream in agony, forcing them to watch as each piece of their bodies was "stripped" away and turned into a tool for making money.

Thump.

Irin collapsed limply to the floor. She couldn't even bring herself to imagine what might happen next.

Her whole body trembled, tears welling in her eyes. Fear of losing her mother had completely filled her mind, leaving her no room to think. Yet somewhere in her subconscious, the girl knew she couldn't go on like this. She couldn't let her emotions control her—but she couldn't help it.

Right now, the girl was like someone swept into the sea during a storm. Fortunately, she still had a piece of driftwood to cling to. Instinct told her to hold tight to the last—and only—thing she could rely on.

However.

Liao Ji first took Irin's hand, then pulled it away from the hem of his coat.

"L-Liao Ji?" If she remembered correctly, this was the first time Irin had called him by name.

The girl stared in confusion as Liao Ji performed this "heartless" act.

If even her only piece of driftwood were swept away by the stormy waves, leaving her behind, Irin felt she would truly begin to sink beneath the sea. Darkness would envelop her, and her body would quickly grow cold.

"Listen, Irin. If you keep acting like this, I think you'd be better off going back to Brian. I'll go find your mother on my own. You'll only hold me back."

"I-I..."

"This may sound a little insensitive, but the fact that Fredre sold your mother for such a high price—one hundred thousand—and was so eager to do it proves her value. She's no ordinary cargo to the cleaners."

"Fredre also said your mother used to be a nun in the Church. She went through the incident when your father went berserk, and there's still Corrupt Calamity contamination inside her. Her current illness may well have been caused by the concentration of Corrupt Calamity in her body reaching a critical level. All of that is what makes her valuable."

"A nun deeply infected with Corrupt Calamity." Liao Ji summed it up for Irin.

He wasn't saying this to upset her, of course. He was leading up to his conclusion.

"High-value cargo has to be transported with great care. And they'll need some preparation to make the most of her value. They won't handle her in a crude, careless way. All of that takes time."

"In other words, we found out early enough. It's been less than half a day since the cleaners took your mother, so she's probably still alive—and doing just fine."

At Liao Ji's words, a spark gradually returned to the girl's eyes. Her gaze steadied, and Irin seemed to grab onto a lifeline as she nodded again and again.

"That's right. You—you're right. Mom's still alive. She's still alive! She's still—still in one piece!"

Seeing that the girl had finally rallied and regained some of her spirit, Liao Ji removed the watch from Fredre's wrist and put it on. Then he told Irin to find something like a body bag to wrap the unconscious doctor in.

Once they'd finished, he checked the time. There were about five or six minutes left before the cleaners were due to arrive, as arranged with the doctor.

"Irin, I have a plan."

At the corner of the alley behind the Dane Clinic.

A small pickup truck was parked there. A man in work overalls and a baseball cap leaned against it, smoking. As he smoked, he muttered curses under his breath.

"Damn it, Fredre's a real son of a bitch, calling me out at a time like this. I'd finally found a hot chick and was right in the middle of things! Fuck him! If this load turns out to be poor quality, I'll make sure he regrets it!"

Footsteps echoed through the alley. The man stubbed out his cigarette, turned, and opened the truck's cargo door, ready to collect the goods from Fredre. They'd gone through this routine together hundreds of times.

But this time—

When the man looked back, a completely unfamiliar face was walking toward him.

The cleaner immediately grew wary on instinct, his hand unconsciously moving toward the holster at his waist.

But when he saw a porter following behind the unfamiliar young man—wearing the clinic's orderly uniform and carrying a body bag over his shoulder—he relaxed a little.

Of course, he was still annoyed.

"Hey! Who are you? Where's Fredre?"

The young man in the doctor's coat replied unhurriedly, "Something came up, so he sent us to deliver the goods."

"Damn Fredre, breaking the rules! Hold it! Don't come any closer. I only deal with Fredre. If you want me to take the goods, Fredre has to come in person!"

As he spoke, the man started to close the truck's cargo door, planning to drive away. In a line of work like cleaning, you had to be even more cautious than other people operating in the shadows. But just then—

"Our goods this time are... very special. I think you'll like them as soon as you get a look."

The young man's words made the man hesitate. It was true that Fredre's nun cargo had been quite something just this afternoon—more than quite something. He'd made a fortune off her through Kalleva, which was how he'd been able to enjoy himself at the club tonight.

If they really had another valuable catch like that, then...

"Fine. Let's see what kind of goods make you so confident!"

Curiosity and greed got the better of the cleaner. He turned back, crouched down, and unzipped the body bag. Under the dim yellow streetlight nearby, he saw the goods inside.

Th-that was...

It was a face he knew all too well.

Fredre.

Just then, he felt the cold touch of a gun muzzle against the back of his head.

And then—

The young man's voice.

"All right. You've seen the goods, and Fredre himself is here too. Now you can take us..."

"To make a delivery, right?"