The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 300: I Am the Plundering King (1)

“Stop! Please, you can’t do this!”

Late at night, an elderly man clung desperately to the leg of a masked thug, begging him to stop.

“Damn it, get off me!”

Thwack!

The man kicked the elder to the ground and began rifling through the meager belongings in his house.

“Hah, living alone must suck. Not much here. But there’s a decent stash of food—probably from that recent distribution. Got the next house picked out?”

Turning to his accomplices, the man asked. A few nodded in response.

“Yes, we’ve already marked a suitable one. Let’s move quickly.”

“Good, let’s go. We’ve got to stockpile as much as we can while times are ripe.”

The group chuckled as they moved on. These men were low-level members of the Black Lion Syndicate, one of the many criminal organizations operating in Desmond. Despite their grandiose name, their primary activity was plain old robbery.

And there was a reason for this surge in thievery.

“Heh, that crazy steward dumped so much food everywhere. If we collect it all and sell it to merchants in another territory, we’ll make a fortune!”

Criminal organizations often dealt in a variety of illegal activities—drug trafficking, loan sharking, scams, extortion under the guise of protection fees, and smuggling contraband. But recently, the most profitable trend in Desmond was robbery. With the occupying Fenris forces distributing vast amounts of food, robbing locals became an easy source of wealth.

With most of Desmond’s military forces gone due to Harold’s gamble on the war, criminals seized the opportunity to fill the power vacuum.

“Hurry up! I hear the soldiers are starting to patrol more frequently. We need to gather as much as possible before they tighten security.”

Criminals across the territory were raiding like mad, knowing this golden opportunity wouldn’t last forever.

As the thieves moved to leave, the elderly man suddenly rose to his feet, shouting angrily:

“You bastards! How am I supposed to survive if you take everything? Give it back right now!”

The old man lunged toward them, only to be kicked to the ground once more.

“Gah!”

“Why don’t you understand when someone’s trying to go easy on you? You really want to die here?”

The man pulled out a dagger, waving it threateningly in front of the elder’s face. His bloodshot eyes and sneer made the elder shrink back in fear.

“Try reporting us if you want, old man. Good luck finding anyone who’ll catch us! Hahaha!”

The group laughed uproariously, clearly enjoying their unchecked reign of terror. Leaving the elder behind, they moved toward their next target.

However, they soon encountered another group—forty masked individuals standing silently in their path.

“Huh? Who the hell are these guys?”

The thieves hesitated, glancing at the unexpected group. Despite the sudden boom in robbery, criminal organizations usually respected each other’s territories to avoid unnecessary conflict.

“There’s a lot of them... Where are they headed? Hey! Who are you?”

The leader of the thieves shouted, addressing the newcomers. The figure at the front stepped forward, meeting the man’s gaze.

“Are you thieves?”

“Who cares what we are? This is our turf! Didn’t you know that?”

“Thieves, then.”

“You son of a—! You looking for a fight? Who the hell are you, anyway?”

The thief leader barked, emboldened by the fact that his group, though smaller, was in their territory. The unspoken agreement among criminal groups was to avoid clashes for mutual benefit.

The masked leader of the newcomers, however, had no intention of talking. He casually pulled a hand axe from his belt and strode forward.

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“W-wait! What’s this about? Breaking the truce? Are you with the Blood Axe Clan or something?”

Thud!

Before he could finish his sentence, the axe came down, splitting his skull and killing him instantly.

The masked figure wiped the blood off the blade and spoke in a cold, detached voice:

“I am the Plundering King. These are the Forty Thieves.”

It was none other than Ghislain, disguised as the Plundering King, leading a squad of his knights to eliminate the criminals infesting the territory.

The remaining thieves stumbled backward in fear, trembling as they realized the scale of their mistake.

“What... what the hell is this? We had a truce! Do you want to start a war?”

“A war? Against the likes of you? No need. Kill everyone but one.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Ghislain commanded his knights—his so-called “thieves”—to move.

Thwack! Thud!

Screams filled the night as the knights, equipped with overwhelming power and mana, slaughtered the thieves in moments. Against trained warriors, these petty criminals stood no chance.

“P-please! Spare me!”

The lone surviving thief dropped to his knees, groveling in terror. He hadn’t even seen how his comrades were killed. All he knew was that they were dead.

Ghislain crouched in front of him, his tone calm and almost conversational.

“What group are you with?”

“T-the Black Lion Syndicate...”

Ghislain smirked under his mask, amused by the irony.

“Black Lions, huh? Not anymore.”

Ghislain let out an involuntary chuckle at the pretentious name of the Black Lion Syndicate before quickly covering it with a cough.

"Ahem. I was actually heading for another target. Didn’t realize there was a group like yours here."

He tilted his head in mild curiosity.

When Harold was alive, most criminal organizations in the territory had been documented and kept under control. However, such information wasn’t perfect. Old groups dissolved or merged, and new ones often sprang up in the gaps.

Organizations that paid taxes and kept a low profile were well-documented, but those who resisted or were crushed often left incomplete traces. And in the wake of Desmond’s defeat, entirely new groups had formed, taking advantage of the chaos.

Although this gang wasn’t part of his original plan, Ghislain didn’t mind. Since he was already out to clean up the criminals, it wouldn’t hurt to add them to the list. Nodding to himself, he spoke.

"Anyway, this works out. Lead the way."

"Uh... what?"

"I said, take me to your hideout."

"Ah... yes, of course!"

The thief, relieved to still be alive, scrambled to his feet. His mind raced with ideas. Their hideout housed many more members, including some powerful lieutenants. Surely, his superiors could deal with these intruders.

The thief led Ghislain and his "thieves" to a fairly large building.

"Hmm, this place?"

It was an ink and dye workshop—one of the facilities included in the territory's infrastructure reports. Apparently, the gang had been running a legitimate front.

"Impressive. Pretending to run an honest business while raking in dirty money behind the scenes."

This was why criminal organizations never disappeared. The higher-ups stayed clean, delegating all incriminating activities to their underlings. They followed the law when it suited them, bribed officials to cover their tracks, and kept their operations running smoothly.

"No wonder they’re hard to deal with. Most of the citizens probably don’t even realize these guys are criminals."

Charging in without evidence would only lead to accusations that Ghislain was fabricating charges to oppress his people. But gathering evidence for a legitimate crackdown would take too much time and effort.

"In that case, might as well deal with them the simple way—beat them into submission and toss them into labor camps."

The door creaked open, revealing a group of muscular men lounging inside.

"Who are you? We’re closed for the night. Come back tomorrow," one of the men said, his tone polite but wary.

The speaker, a burly man with a practiced smile, was none other than the boss of the Black Lion Syndicate. However, his expression quickly changed as he noticed the masked faces of his unexpected guests.

"What the hell? Who are you people? Why are you all wearing masks?"

"I am the Plundering King," Ghislain declared calmly.

"What?"

Before the boss could process the words, the thief they had brought with them shouted:

"Boss! They’re with the Blood Axe Clan! They’re here to wipe us out!"

That was all it took for the syndicate members to leap to their feet, weapons in hand.

Ghislain observed their frantic movements with a bored expression.

"I said I’m the Plundering King."

"Kill them!" the boss bellowed, signaling his men to charge.

Ghislain simply gestured toward his knights.

"Clean them up. Leave that one alive."

BOOM!

The boss froze mid-step.

When he turned to look, all his men were gone. They lay scattered against the walls, bloodied and broken.

Clack... clack... clack...

His teeth chattered uncontrollably as he raised his trembling hands.

They’re real. These guys aren’t just some gang. They’re a full-blown assassination squad or part of a major guild.

He dropped to his knees as Ghislain approached and calmly took a seat amidst the carnage.

"So, what brings you here?" the boss stammered. "I-I’ll serve you tea! Please, wait just a moment!"

"Sit."

The boss didn’t dare argue and knelt on the floor as Ghislain regarded him coldly.

"Tell me the locations of every other gang you know of."

"Y-yes, of course!"

The boss quickly rattled off the names and locations of every criminal group he knew, along with the number of their members and the names of their leaders. He wrote it all down as if recounting his deepest vendettas.

Ghislain reviewed the notes, nodding in satisfaction.

"Good. This will make it easier to clean them out."

Some of the groups were already on his radar, while others were entirely new. True to form, criminals knew criminals best. This chain of information would lead to the destruction of every gang in the region.

Ghislain turned to the boss and the last remaining thief.

"You two."

"Y-yes!" they shouted in unison, trembling.

"I, the Plundering King, have never left an enemy alive. So... you’ll have to die."

"Please, have mercy!" they begged, tears streaming down their faces.

"Hmm. If you survive, pay for your crimes diligently."

Thud!

With a casual swipe of his hand, Ghislain knocked them both unconscious.

One of the masked knights hoisted the unconscious criminals onto his shoulder and swiftly carried them off. They were promptly dumped at the nearest military barracks, where several soldiers dragged them away.

Outside the barracks hung a large sign:

[Labor Assault Unit – Special Education Facility No. 5]

Thus began the nightly operations of the Plundering King and his Forty Thieves, systematically dismantling criminal organizations.

By dawn, the remains of the previous night’s victims—a trail of corpses—were discovered across the territory, throwing the populace into disarray.

"Is there a serial killer on the loose?"

"No, they’re all criminals. Apparently, these are just gang fights."

"So the criminal organizations are at war with each other?"

"Yeah, and they say someone called the Plundering King has appeared, trying to unify the underworld in this territory!"

"Gods, I hope we don’t get caught in the crossfire. Things are chaotic enough after the war..."

"I heard the new lord issued a strict order—no harm to the citizens, or they won’t let it slide. Soldiers are patrolling constantly now."

"Well, that’s reassuring... I guess."

Lowell, the intelligence officer, diligently spread these rumors, crafting the narrative of an internal conflict among criminals. This deflected suspicion away from Ghislain while ensuring that any unease among the people was contained. With soldiers reinforcing security, the remaining fears would soon fade.

People tend to forget quickly as long as they aren’t directly affected. By eliminating the criminal organizations swiftly, public attention would soon move on.

Thwack! Thud! Smash!

"Argh! You demon!"

"So you’re the Plundering King!"

"You’ll pay for this!"

As smaller organizations were wiped out, some remaining criminal groups began to band together, hoping to resist. However, they proved no match for Ghislain and his knights.

Each night, half of the captured criminals were killed, and the other half were sent to various Labor Assault Units – Special Education Facilities across the territory.

"You vicious bastard! We’re people too! Did you really have to go this far? Do you have to take everything for yourself?!"

A gang leader screamed in desperation, but Ghislain silenced him with a clean strike, severing his head.

"You’re not people. And yes, I prefer having it all to myself."

Despite the relentless progress, the cleanup wasn’t as fast as Ghislain had hoped. The vast size of the Desmond territory and the sheer number of organizations that had sprung up after the war made the task monumental.

As word of the Plundering King spread, more criminal groups began hiding, moving their bases, or significantly reducing their activities.

While scouring the territory for these hidden groups, Ghislain rubbed his temples in frustration.

"Look at these cockroaches."

Letting them hide and regroup wasn’t an option. Given the chance, they would inevitably crawl back out to cause more harm.

Ghislain knew it was impossible to eliminate crime completely—there would always be those who thrived on chaos. However, as long as he ruled the territory, he would ensure they couldn’t so much as breathe freely.

"Looks like I’ll have to adjust my approach."

To expedite the process, Ghislain needed to lure them out in the open. If they gathered on their own, it would save time and effort. After some thought, he summoned Claude.

"You’re going to play a key role in this."

"Me? What do you need from me?" Claude asked, his tone skeptical.

"You’ve got a bit of a... reputation, don’t you? For liking bribes, gambling... being a general scoundrel."

"...And?"

Claude’s expression soured as he tilted his head, annoyed. Somehow, his unsavory reputation had spread all the way to this new territory. He had hoped to start fresh, but it seemed that dream was already ruined.

Ghislain, however, looked entirely pleased with the situation.

"You’re going to meet with the criminal organizations. Take some bribes, promise them protection, and gather as many of them as you can."

Claude stared at Ghislain in silence, his irritation evident.

"You’re good at this kind of thing, aren’t you?" Ghislain continued with absolute confidence.

As much as Claude hated to admit it, Ghislain wasn’t wrong. With a reputation as the most corrupt official in the region, no one could play the part better than him.

"Great. Let’s use that to our advantage."