In the deepest district of Firmament City—where neon lights glow dimly like secrets reluctant to be revealed—there exists a network that even the Old World Network chooses to "ignore."
The Black Market.
At its center, behind steel doors layered with sensors and soundproof walls, sat a woman with short, neatly combed black hair, her eyes sharp like a blade that had been used far too often.
Karen Vale.
The leader of Firmament's black market… and also an agent of the shadow organization, The Whisperer.
The room was filled with transparent holographic screens floating in the air, displaying numbers, transactions, and illegal distribution routes from all across Fertissio.
Karen tapped the glass desk in front of her with the tip of her nail.
"Rising again…"
Her cold voice broke the silence.
"Bribe costs are increasing… ammunition distribution is dropping… and demand is still high."
She swiped one of the screens aside, enlarging the transaction data.
"Old World Network officials are getting greedier."
She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling with a flat expression.
"At this rate… our margins will be eaten up just to keep them blind."
Her hand moved again, opening another file.
A medical report from Firmament's official clinic.
The graph spiked.
Number of injuries.
Number of deaths.
All from one sector.
F-02.
Karen narrowed her eyes.
"A safe zone… yet casualties are rising drastically…"
She let out a long breath.
"The Green Serpent…"
The name appeared on the screen.
A symbol—a green snake coiling around a weapon.
Karen leaned back, crossing her legs.
"Garrick…"
Her tone shifted, deeper.
"That old man… what are you planning?"
She stared at the report for a long moment.
"If the beginners are hunted to extinction…"
Her finger tapped lightly on the screen.
"…there will be no more new scavenger supply."
"No more lower economy."
"No more city."
Her eyes sharpened.
"And that's not a foolish move… that's deliberate."
She fell silent for a few seconds.
"So… this isn't just hunting…"
"This is filtering."
A knock echoed at the door.
Knock.
Knock.
Karen didn't turn.
"Come in."
The door opened slowly.
A well-dressed man entered, carrying a small data chip.
He walked silently, then placed the chip on the table.
"Latest transaction, Miss Karen."
Karen picked it up without looking.
She placed it onto the panel.
The screen changed.
A long list appeared.
Weapons.
Ammunition.
Grenades.
Tactical equipment.
All bearing the same code.
GS-Batch.
Karen raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Interesting…"
She zoomed into the details.
Vendor: Black Market – Firmament Sector.
Buyer: The Green Serpent.
Status: Distributed.
Then…
Latest status:
Reclaimed.
Resold.
Karen paused.
Her eyes narrowed.
"…huh."
A faint smile appeared on her face.
"Their goods… came back here?"
She turned slightly toward the man.
"Someone sold these?"
The man nodded.
"Yes. Just now."
"Identity?"
He remained silent.
Karen smiled faintly.
"Ah, right."
"Tradition."
There were no identities in black market transactions.
No names.
No faces.
Only goods… and money.
Karen turned her attention back to the screen.
"So…"
"…someone killed their members."
She opened another file.
Battlefield reconstruction.
An experimental technology belonging to The Whisperer.
Data extracted from signal residue on the weapons they sold.
Not perfect.
The image glitched.
Fragmented.
Shaking.
But enough.
Enough to see.
The screen displayed ruins.
Sector F-02.
Two figures.
One moved.
Fast.
Unstable.
But… precise.
Karen leaned closer to the screen.
"Hmm…"
The footage shifted.
One hunter fell.
Quickly.
Almost instantly.
Then…
Close combat.
The boy's movements—not clean.
Not powerful.
But…
Efficient.
No wasted motion.
No panic.
Karen narrowed her eyes.
"This…"
The recording glitched again.
The boy was being choked.
Yet he still moved.
Then…
The position reversed.
The hunter died.
Karen stopped.
Her hand no longer moved.
A few seconds passed.
Silence.
"…a child?"
She replayed it.
Zoomed in.
The face was unclear.
Covered in blood.
Distorted.
But the body…
Small.
A teenager.
Karen leaned back slowly.
Her expression changed.
Not surprised.
Interested.
"A child…"
"…killed members of The Green Serpent…"
She tapped the table lightly.
"And he's not one of them…"
She opened another database.
Searching.
Nothing.
Not found.
"Not registered in any major O.W.N organization…"
"Not detected as a veteran or Firmament special forces…"
"No record…"
Karen smiled.
Wider this time.
"Interesting."
She closed all the screens except one.
That glitching recording.
"He knows how to fight…"
"He knows how to sell…"
"He even knows how to find this place…"
Her eyes narrowed.
"…and he's still alive."
Karen slowly stood from her chair.
"If he doesn't belong to The Green Serpent, and not to Libra's Veil…"
"…then he doesn't belong to us either…"
She walked toward the large window, overlooking Firmament City.
The city lights flickered like living nerves.
"That means he's free."
A faint smile formed on her lips.
"And something that's free…"
"…can become very useful."
She glanced slightly toward the man behind her.
"Begin observation."
The man immediately bowed.
"The target?"
Karen looked back at the glitching screen.
The figure of a teenager moving through distortion.
"That boy."
She paused for a moment.
Then added quietly—
"…find him."
The holographic lights dimmed.
And somewhere in the same city—
without Arche realizing it—
he had just become a target… not just of one organization.
But two.