＊ ＊
The Southern Fleet Headquarters in Zerlan Bay’s naval port was far grander than the Ceremonial Battalion’s headquarters.
I was sitting on a sofa in an absurdly luxurious reception room, facing a burly bearded old man.
That old man was glaring at me with naked suspicion in his eyes.
“So you’re the merchant who supposedly came from Shao?”
So this was Admiral Terzen, the target for elimination. Exactly as described.
Not particularly tall, nor especially muscular. He was well-trained, yes, but still just an ordinary middle-aged man.
Yet somehow, he gave off an intimidating presence, a slightly frightening aura. Likely his boldness and confidence created that effect.
That, and the fact I was surrounded by armed soldiers.
The ruffians encircling my sofa looked more like pirates than naval men, machete-like knives and musket pistols shoved into their belts as they stood at attention.
These were the type who had no hesitation whatsoever about killing. Which, admittedly, made them good soldiers.
Even one-on-one I wasn’t sure I could win; against this many, unarmed as I was, there was no chance.
So I leaned back into the sofa and made a show of leaving myself defenseless.
“Yes. My name is Wong. Surname Wong, given name Kutu. A trading merchant from Liang Province in the southeast of Shao Yuntasa.”
This cover story was devised by Captain Yugi. She had insisted, “Lieutenant Fonkt absolutely has to be from Liang! You’ve got just the right soft, cool aura for it!” …Maybe that woman really was from Shao herself.
Admiral Terzen kept staring me up and down. I, meanwhile, gave him a pleasant smile before fixing my gaze on the teacup on the table.
Why a teacup?
Obviously, he was testing me to see if I was truly Shao.
I had no clue about Shao tea etiquette, but if I just played it “Oriental” enough, I’d be fine. Captain Yugi had given her seal of approval.
“A fine vessel indeed.”
I lifted the cup, imitating tea ceremony motions by rotating the vessel—horizontally, of course. Spinning it vertically might get a laugh, but I didn’t want scalded fingers.
Then I peered into the cup and spoke.
“Red plum with a warbler… exquisitely elegant. Had I arrived a bit earlier, I might have admired it in early spring. I can only be ashamed at my own unworthiness.”
It was now early summer, making the motif somewhat out of season. But pointing that out directly would have been crass.
On the other hand, saying nothing might prompt, “Do you not notice anything odd about this?”
So I hinted at my awareness in a roundabout way. Drinking tea was a life-or-death matter here.
Inside was black tea, or something close to a fermented tea. Tea was an import from Shao.
In theory it could be cultivated in the southern Empire, but Shao strictly banned the export of tea trees. Breaking the ban meant death.
“An excellent fragrance. A brand unknown to me, but…”
No bluffing—I openly admitted ignorance.
“The richness permeates one’s body. Delicious.”
I smiled broadly. Truthfully, I couldn’t tell. Hard to taste properly when I was ringed by pirate-like thugs.
The bearded man, seemingly Admiral Terzen, gave me a small nod.
“Hmph. No doubt you’re Shao. That’s Dwaja leaf. No way you people would know it.”
Testing people with tea… really not in the spirit of Rikyu. My inner tea master was fuming.
Still, looks like my identity had checked out.
“You are Admiral Terzen, Commander of the Legitimate Empire’s Southern Fleet. Your fame echoes even as far as Shao Yuntasa… the Great Morning Kingdom of Shao.”
Accustomed to flattery, Admiral Terzen’s expression didn’t shift.
“If you wanted to meet me, you must have brought something interesting to say.”
His tone carried the unspoken “or I’ll kill you.” More pirate king than military man.
“Yes. I’ve brought two very interesting matters.”
I clapped my hands sharply.
“Bring the first one.”
Behind me, Second Lieutenant Crimine—shaking ever so slightly with a blank face—bowed Shao-style and withdrew.
Watching her out of the corner of my eye, I spoke to the Admiral.
“As a new business venture for the Admiral, perhaps you might consider something like this.”
“What?”
Terzen twitched one eyebrow just as Captain Yugi entered, clad in a cheongsam.
“Fayun, chaoni,” she greeted brightly in Shao, then raised one leg high. Arching back, she flipped into a handstand and rolled gracefully. I’d seen that kind of move in rhythmic gymnastics.
Given the slit of her cheongsam, such acrobatics should have been a disaster—but somehow nothing was revealed. That was the genius of Captain Yugi’s body control.
Though, I had heard Second Lieutenant Crimine yelling more than once during practice, “It’s showing! Captain, it’s showing!” I wasn’t present myself—no need to sit in on that rehearsal.
After her spin, Captain Yugi smiled with a deliberately suggestive look.
“Ah, faifei, yuchi?”
With the little Shao I’d picked up, it seemed like “Arch back more.” Was Captain Yugi really fond of dirty jokes…?
“Oooh…”
“This is incredible.”
The rowdy sailors had their eyes glued to Captain Yugi—specifically, to her thighs.
All of them were utterly distracted, but then again, so was I when I first saw her moves. Next thing I knew, she tapped my forehead and laughed, “You’re dead, you know?”
Admiral Terzen, however, wasn’t looking at Yugi. His eyes stayed on me. This man had no openings.
If I were a true assassin, maybe I could have finished him even now. But I was unarmed, and frankly, I had no confidence against him.
If Crimine had worn the cheongsam and drawn their attention, Captain Yugi might have had a shot at him… but I doubted Crimine’s thighs had that level of pulling power. Most men preferred someone more like Captain Yugi.
“‘Husband’?”
…Somehow, I felt Second Lieutenant Crimine’s burning glare behind me. I was too scared to look back.
Work, focus.
I turned to the Admiral with my salesman’s smile.
“What do you think? This lady is a princess of noble blood…”
At the Admiral’s twitching brow, I laughed quickly.
“…Or so I wish. In truth, just a village girl bought from the countryside. A gift for you, Admiral.”
“Hm?”
For a moment Admiral Terzen looked both displeased and suspicious. Dangerous.
But this was my chance. Catching the momentary gap in his composure, I pressed forward with a smile as my weapon.
“A peasant girl, trained in music, dance, and etiquette until she became a courtesan of this caliber. The raw material is acquired legally through self-sale. Giving one away makes no difference to our supply.”
The sailors behind me murmured.
“What’s he saying?”
“What’s this guy’s point?”
Slow on the uptake, these lot.
Only Admiral Terzen curved his mouth downward and nodded.
“Hmph. So you’re here to develop a new ‘market.’”
“Yes. The Admiral’s keen insight humbles me.”
I bowed deeply.
The Admiral stroked his beard with a perpetually sour face.
But I figured that was just his mask, a style to project menace. Not genuine displeasure.
So I ignored it.
Now for the sales pitch.
“In Shao Yuntasa, countless poor peasants sell their daughters. Better that than the whole family starving together.”
I affected a pained expression, shaking my head.
“Foolish slavers sell them as they are. We are different. We train them in arts and knowledge, raise their value, and ensure they are treated better wherever they’re bought. Selling one slave for a thousand Taos is easier than selling a hundred for ten each.”
After my long spiel, I glanced up at the Admiral.
He stroked his beard again, nodding slightly.
“Hm… Indeed, transporting a hundred slaves without escape is tough. But one? That’s simple. And an educated slave rarely runs.”
Oh? He’s interested? Please consider our fine human-trafficking business model.
In my past life I’d exhausted myself juggling insane industry customs, company rules, laws, and public scrutiny, all with a smile. I never thought that experience would pay off here.
“Yes. But valuable slaves require careful buyers. With Admiral Terzen, I know they would be safe. This was meant as a trial proposal…”
At that moment, Admiral Terzen drew the pistol from his belt.
“Ah!?”
Captain Yugi braced herself, but I stopped her with one hand.
“Relax. We’re still negotiating.”
The Admiral leveled the pistol at my chest, his voice calm.
“Negotiation’s over. I want nothing to do with that trade. Nor with you.”
So this was where I’d die, then.
But even if I died, letting my cover slip would be disastrous. If my true identity was exposed, the consequences would be the worst possible.
Then let me die as Wong the Shao merchant.
I sighed, weary, and shifted my tone.
“There is still a ‘second’ matter. Or perhaps the Admiral has no interest in talk of becoming Emperor?”
“What?”
Admiral Terzen’s face registered surprise. Just as I’d predicted.
This round was mine.