I Was Connected to Earth’s Black Market From Another World With The Skill [Market]! – Chapter 138 – 139

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Chapter 138 – Mole Mask


“According to the report, the one who had been attacked was Payblower, the largest merchant association in town, and Beynan, the second largest. The attackers were the chivalrous bandits known as the Mole.”

“Oh, chivalrous bandits, huh? So there are such things in the Republic.”

“Of course, there are not. They’re just making a name for themselves. They are theft, extortion, kidnapping, robbery, assault, and murder, and the only thing they don’t do is rape.”

The people around laughed at Louis’ words and nodded. What a strange atmosphere. What is this?

“The leader of the bandits is a Dwarf woman.”


“I heard that anyone who touches the kidnapped woman will be killed, even if they’re her subordinate.”

“Well, it’s not a question of right or wrong since the woman will be sold off in the end.”

I looked at the first speaker, Hal-san, the guild’s receptionist, to find out the true meaning of his words, but he just shook his head with a troubled look on his face. There seemed to be no particular malice in his words.

Thinking about it, I didn’t feel any part or bias toward Myrril in the exchange at the reception desk earlier.

Rather, he looked puzzled when he saw me freeze up. Louis, Tig, the half-elf mage Eino, and even the person in question, Myrril.

Huh? Am I the only one shocked?

“Yos… Takifu. I sometimes wonder about you. Why do you sometimes have such inexplicably congratulatory ideas when you are basically calm and fair in your judgments?”

“Eh? Me?”

“There are criminals among humans, beastman, and even elves. Of course, so do dwarves.”

“…O-oh. Yes, of course. Well, I guess that’s true. I’m just surprised because I hadn’t seen it before, that’s all.”

“Oh my, I see. I wondered why you were surprised, Takifu-san, but I finally understood.”

Even Hal-san, the receptionist, laughed at me.

Was I thinking too much? I have never felt a sense of racial discrimination since I entered the Republic. Rather, it may be that my experience has led me to a reverse racist mindset.

I have thought that it is only humans who have malicious intent.

Of course, this cannot be true.

“According to what you said earlier, were the attacked merchants killed?”

“No, only the bodyguards who fought to the last. They don’t kill for money.”

Tig looked at the adventurers behind him and snickered. They survived because they abandoned their cargo, escort, and friends and fled. What will happen to them in the future is unknown.

“We should be getting a ransom demand soon. After that, demand for the purchase of the stolen merchandise. Then, finally, an invitation with a guarantee of release from the wanted list, signed by the lord, will be delivered to their hideout.”

“Oh, so in the Republic, such demands are accepted.”

“Why would we do that? That’s just ridiculous. They say if you can catch them, try to catch them.”

The half-elf mage Eino patted Tig on the shoulder and quieted him down. Louis looked chagrined, but no one made a move.

Hal-san must have sensed it from my expression, which was as obvious as ever because he explained it to me.

“The hideout of the Mole bandits is about 10 miles from the east gate of the city, in the ruins of a mine, but the narrow tunnels are too intricate for heavily armed guards and adventurers to enter.”

“Just like their leader, most of the Mole bandits are dwarves. They are good at fighting in a small hole in the ground. We can’t wield swords or battle axes, bows are out of the question, and spears will just stumble. On the other hand, they are wearing their own well-made armor, so we can’t even kill them with a dagger. Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do.”

“What about smothering them with magic or fire?”

“We tried that before, but to no avail. They can open and close tunnels and vents and connect them as they please. And the water has to come from somewhere.”

“The total damage is said to be several thousand gold coins.”

“That’s not so good, is it? We adventurers would like to lend a hand, but…”

“No, there’s no need to be unreasonable. Let the good girls work elsewhere. The only way to beat them is to hit them when they come out of the hole. After all, the opponent is the daughter of the blacksmith king Kazinair, so there’s no way we can take them properly in their cave… gahh!?”

“What did you just say?”

The low, stifled voice made me look back, and I saw Tig’s huge body being hoisted up.


“H-hey, what’s going on, Mir?”


Louis, Eino, and Hal-san were trying their best to calm her down, but the strong arms of the determined Myrril didn’t seem to budge.

“No, Mir, calm down.”

Moff and I joined in, desperately trying to pull Myrril’s hand away from his. Tig’s eyes are black and white, but he seems to be okay.

“O-oh… sorry, Tig. I’m so sorry.”

Myrril bowed her head with a blank expression. Seeing her unusual appearance, everyone seemed to sense that this was not a normal situation.

“No, ahem, I don’t mind. What’s the matter, Mir, all of a sudden?”


He is the father of Myrril, as I heard in Casemaian. The daughter of the blacksmith king is the head of a band of thieves who have set up a hideout in the mine ruins. The ugliness of the story hurt Myrril, hurt her sister Misnel, and hurt the pride of the father they loved so much.

“Has there been a request from the guild, I wonder. To take down the hideout of this band of bandits.”

“Oh, no. But…”

“If not, that’s fine. It’s all the same anyway.”

Everyone around her shivered at the sight of Myrril’s expression; her hair was standing up in outrage. Her lips twisted into what resembled a smile as she quietly spat out the words.

“I will kill that woman.”


Chapter 139 – Polar Hawk


By the time we left the guild and arrived back at the inn, Myrril-san had regained her composure.

She had been a little quiet on the way, but I guess she gradually got her mind in order. At the same time, there were times when her eyes swam as if she was working out tactics and arrangements, and her footsteps looked as if she was simulating a move, and I knew that in Nojaloli-san’s mind, steps toward revenge were steadily and surely being built up.

When we entered the room on the second floor, I called Myrril-san and offered her the secret weapon I had taken out of storage.

“Keep this with you, just in case. If you don’t have to use it, that’s all the better.”

“…Fumu. I don’t really understand, but whatever Yoshua gave me, I will treasure it for the rest of my life.”

I appreciate that, but it’s not quite like that.

What I handed her was a holster with a belt to be worn under the chest. There were two identical holsters, one for me and one for her. Although it was unattractive as a matching holster, it was a very good one.


Myrril-san’s eyes sparkled as she pulled the gun out of the holster. Naturally, she was used to handling guns, her index finger resting on the trigger guard and the muzzle pointing toward the floor.

“I’ve never seen a gun like this before, have I? What is this silver color? I know you don’t make weapons out of silver, but I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Uh… it’s some kind of special steel that’s resistant to rust.”

It’s silver because it’s made of stainless steel, but I don’t know much about the industry, so it’s hard to explain.

I gave her a Sturm, Ruger Super Redhawk. It is a short-barreled “Alaskan” model for polar regions. Specifically, it was an emergency pistol for dealing with large bears, which would be ineffective against even a half-round of small arms ammunition.

I showed her how to operate the gun and the swing out of the cylindrical magazine.

“It’s an Alaskan. It’s a revolver, which is simpler, sturdier, less prone to malfunction, and can use more powerful rounds than an automatic-loading pistol like a copy of the M1911.”

“It is a good thing, isn’t it? Is that a spell written all over the barrel?”

“No, it says, ‘Please read the manual.’ And the name and address of the manufacturer.”

“Why would they put that on the barrel of a gun…? I don’t know if it’s kind or unfriendly.”

Oh, yeah. I thought so too. By the way, it was used, so there was no manual. That’s no good!

Nodding my head, I confirmed the basic operation and structure of the gun and looked at the cartridge I had handed over to her with a wistful glance.

Whether it was her dwarven blood or her experience as an engineer, Myrril seemed to have a rough understanding of the advantages, virtues, and problems of the revolver with just that.

“…I see what you mean. I wondered why I didn’t get one before, but it seems Yoshua made the right decision. I like the design concept of the “robust and solid,” but it is not suitable for use in Casemaian.”

“Well, yes. It is not suitable for war, at least.”

It has a low ammunition capacity and is a bit difficult to reload. The construction of the gun also allows for the leakage of projectile gas through a gap in the rear of the barrel. Even though the ammunition is powerful, the range is not as long as that of a rifle. The Alaskan has a short 2.5-inch barrel, which makes it even shorter.

“Is it one of those things where the better you make it, the more expensive it is?”

“That may be the biggest problem. If you want to get a large number of guns at a low cost for the army, you can’t choose a revolver.”

This is not an accurate expression since there is a difference in the number of firearms distributed between those that are released by the military and those for the general market, but it is difficult to explain to Myrril, so I omitted that part.

“Then, try loading the ammunition in this box. Let’s go outside the city walls and do some test firing in a secluded place. I only bought three hundred rounds of that ammunition because it’s a little expensive, but it’s for emergencies, so it’s okay, right?”

Myrril-san, who was packing the cylinders, looks at the box of 454 Casull, and from her own carry bag, she takes a 45 ACP box. The letters are unreadable to her, but as symbols, she can probably recognize the similarity.

Comparing the ammunition itself, she seemed convinced.

“You know, Yoshua. I was wondering about it for a while now, but as I thought this bullet…”

“You recognize it? It’s the king of .45s. It’s about five times more powerful than a regular .45.”


Myrril-san, who was as much a believer in the .45 caliber as any American, heard this, and her eyes lit up.

How much do you love the forty-five caliber?

In fact, the .454 Casull ammunition, which is based on the “45 Long Colt,” a long-selling ammunition from the days of black powder ammunition, just like Nojaloli-san’s favorite 45. ACP.

The 45 ACP has been compacted for automatic pistols, while the 454 Casull has been extended to increase the amount of charge. It has five times the energy of the 45ACP and even exceeds the 7.62×39 bullet used in AKM assault rifles.

Naturally, the recoil is also more severe, but the one who has to worry about that is me, the “demon king who only talks,” not Myrril-san, the stout-armed dwarf.

“Umm, this is wonderful. This is really wonderful…!”

Myrril hugged me and rubbed her head against me. She looked up and stared at me with moist eyes.

“Yoshua, I thank you from the bottom of my heart! With this, I don’t think I’ll ever lose again, no matter who I’m up against!”

…That’s fine, though.

When I bought this, it was just an insurance policy in case of emergencies.

Myrril-san, your eyes have already turned into heart marks. I’m glad she’s happy, but for some reason, I feel like I made a very poor choice.


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