Gluttony Demon King with the Swampman ~A Man with No Magic Power Who Dreamed of Magic, Wielding Knowledge from His Past Life Through Steady Research and Hard Work to Become the Most Vicious Final Boss~ - Chapter 40: Perpetrator and Victim

Chapter 40: Perpetrator and Victim

Milro’s employer while he was alive, and the biggest moneylender in this city.

The ones who call themselves Giran Desk Money Merchants are, in truth, what you would call a “bank” that makes its living managing deposits and currency exchange. They are by no means running a shady business.

To the stately mansion of such a well-established major trading company, Noiche and I had come.

“Noiche Levi-sama, yes? We have been expecting you. This way, please.”

Whether you’re B-rank or A-rank, an ordinary adventurer wouldn’t even be let through the gate. That’s the level of wealthy person we’re talking about.

The reason we were allowed in so smoothly was, of course, largely thanks to the prestige of the Levi ducal house.

In the parlor we were shown to, the person we wanted to meet was already waiting for us.
A plump man who looked to be in his fifties.

“Well now, well now, Noiche-sama! Thank you so much for coming!”

“No, thank you for having us. Sorry it’s on such short notice.”

“Not at all. I happened to have some free time on my hands.”

Liar.

I silently retorted at the man’s breezy attitude.

“I am Miza, the manager of Giran Desk Money Merchants here in the city of Dura.”

After seating us on the sofa, Manager Miza settled down across from us.

“We’re not here to do business, so let’s skip the polite pretenses. I’ll get straight to the point.”

With those words, Noiche took over the explanation.

The incident with the puppeteer that’s been making waves at the guild, and the fact that a small-time thug named Milro was involved in it.

She told him that we were gathering information about people connected to Milro. Manager Miza understood our request instantly.

“Yes, I know the man. He did indeed often act as a go-between for debt-collection jobs.”

That said, Miza continued.

“If we’re talking about people connected to Milro, there are far too many to narrow down. After all, our business is quite large.”

Yeah, I figured as much.

A trading company this big, and one that handles banking at that. The number of clients couldn’t possibly be just a hundred or two hundred.

Catching Manager Miza’s glance, Noiche looked over at me, wondering what to do.

Up until now I’d been treated like part of the furniture—and I had fully intended to stay that way—but if we were stuck, I might as well speak up.

“…Among the places Milro went to collect debts, was there ever a convent?”

“Hm? A convent?”

For the first time, Manager Miza looked at me.

He had probably taken me for something like a slave. His face showed clear surprise that I had joined the conversation.

“Haro, why a convent…?”

Noiche tilted her head too.
With both of them now focused on me, I explained.

“People with magic eyes are easily persecuted. Most are driven out of their homes while still young, and even if their family tries to protect them, the people around them won’t let it slide.”

“…Meaning?”

“If someone with magic eyes has reached that age, it’s far more natural to assume they were already driven out long ago.”

A child who was broke and cast out of their home, yet raised to that age.
Moreover, that woman’s manners and speech had been refined. She didn’t strike me as an orphan who had simply fallen into crime.

So—a convent.

They often take in orphans.

Noiche nodded, convinced by my reasoning, and Manager Miza gave an admiring “I see.”

“We have never lent money to a convent ourselves. However…”

“However?”

“Yes. It’s possible Milro lent money privately.”

Oh? Privately.

“It seems he hinted he was acting on behalf of Giran Desk Money Merchants while running a personal loan business on the side.”

“…So he wasn’t a very good person?”

“Yes, a very bad person.”

I see—it’s starting to make sense.

Charging outrageous interest and squeezing people dry—borrowing a term from my previous life, he was basically running an illegal loan shark operation.

“I believe there was indeed a convent in Milro’s territory. I remember they took in a great many orphans and were struggling financially.”

“Could you tell us where it is?”

“Of course.”

Using an entire sheet of high-quality paper without hesitation, Manager Miza smoothly ran his pen across it.
While writing, he glanced at Noiche and asked,

“Noiche-sama, who might this young man be?”

“Haro Swampman. A magician and our teacher. He even killed a dragon.”

I didn’t get the chance to correct her—no, I’m not your teacher, just a fellow researcher—before Manager Miza’s eyes went wide.

“W-what? Is that so! The dragon-slaying boy—I had only heard rumors…”

So the story’s spread this far.

Finishing the note, Manager Miza turned back to me.

“I must apologize deeply for my rudeness earlier. It’s not only your feat of slaying a dragon—your keen insight and intellect have truly impressed me.”

“Er, well…”

“I sincerely hope the puppeteer matter is resolved safely.”

Placing his hands on his knees, the man bowed deeply.

I had plenty I wanted to say, and I’m sure part of it was calculated flattery toward the Levi family… but making a connection isn’t a bad thing.

We received directions to the convent from Manager Miza and set off at once.
The convent was in quite an inconvenient location.

Up a hill and far from any important part of town. At least the land would be cheap.

Inside the carriage, while being hugged tightly by Noiche, I gazed outside.

Today the sky was overcast and gloomy.

The bell tower atop the modest church roof and a rusty iron gate came into view—just then, Noiche spoke.

“Haro.”

“Yeah?”

“She doesn’t seem like a bad kid.”

The puppeteer, I suppose.

I feel the same way.

Appearance-wise, that woman looked about the same age as Noiche or Zaria.
Even if she had been raised in a convent, there probably hadn’t been any environment to learn how to control magic eyes.

Most likely, the puppeteer’s crimes weren’t committed with clear murderous intent.
Impulsive, or perhaps a loss of control—

It feels more natural to think she was acting in self-defense.

And that guess was proven the moment we stepped onto the convent grounds.

“Haro.”

“I know. I’ll handle it.”

From behind the wall, from inside the bushes, from every blind spot at once came the sound of running feet—
I spread ink arms from my back and caught the attackers.

“U-uwahhhh!?”

High-pitched screams rose up.

Three in total—the ones now dangling in midair, bound by ink, were all children.

“What the heck, magic…!?”

“H-hey! These aren’t the usual old guys!”

“How should I know? Nobody ever comes here to pray… The only ones who come are the ones who come to threaten us!”

…Threaten them, huh.

Looks like they’ve been hounded by some nasty debt collectors.