Episode 60: Black Market

The curved building where the black market was held was painted white overall, but signs of neglect were visible across its surface.

Approaching by taxi, the area around the building was overgrown with weeds, but the path from the open main gate to the building itself remained paved.

At the main gate, Dawson and Oine exited the vehicle and walked toward the building.

Along the path, a section of the grass had been flattened. Looking ahead, a parking area with several large trailers stood where factory materials had once been unloaded. In addition to the trailers, there were a dozen or so ordinary passenger vehicles.

Dawson glanced at the number of cars and relaxed his expression slightly.

"Looks like the black market is busy today."

"By the number of vehicles?"

"Yeah. Trailers carry physical goods. Sedans bring electronic data. They’re bringing the actual items. If you consider this a black market, today’s a busy day."

"Physical goods make sense. But why data?"

"Because they’re handling large items that don’t fit in vehicles. Some collectors even buy decommissioned warships."

"Warships from the Stellar Navy...?"

Oine considered the price of a vessel and shook his head. A Sky Sweeper or destroyer was one thing. But purchasing an Orbit Patrol Cruiser or larger—such a cost felt beyond what a private individual could afford.

"So you’re not converting warships into merchant vessels?"

In that case, civilian sales of decommissioned ships are standard practice, so they would buy from that source. I heard those purchasing on the black market do so for display. They install imitation turrets and gun platforms in place of the weapons removed by the military, making the vessel look like its former self.

That makes the vessel useless for practical purposes, doesn’t it?

I said it—display use only. It’s meant for viewing, so practicality isn’t required.

Even the docking fee for the vessel?

People who see that amount as trivial are the ones buying display vessels.

Walking through the conversation, they finally reached the building’s entrance.

Three men stood beside the entrance, smoking electronic cigarettes. They glanced briefly at Dawson and the others, then lost interest, returning their attention to their cigarettes.

Dawson stepped into the building without acknowledging the men, as if accustomed to their presence.

Oine followed, pausing briefly inside. Then she tugged lightly at Dawson’s coat.

“Dawson. Communication with the outside has been severed.”

“Signal jamming to increase the black market’s secrecy. Also a countermeasure against infiltrating agents. There’s another reason too—preventing price checks online.”

Black market goods are for connoisseurs. Connoisseurs know approximate prices by default. Novices who need to check prices online are not permitted entry. If you come in, expect to be overcharged.

The lack of network access, Dawson said, was also a statement.

Oine nodded in agreement, but tilted her head slightly.

"Is Dawson a newcomer too?"

"True, he's a newcomer. But knowing in advance this kind of place exists, he can at least research general inventory and pricing beforehand—"

Dawson spoke while scanning the surroundings. His gaze settled on a particular stall in the makeshift market set up in the abandoned factory.

"——And if you know the vendor, the risk of being overcharged decreases."

Dawson walked toward the targeted vendor, Oine following.

The vendor was an elderly man, easily over seventy. He sat on a folding chair, wearing reading glasses, and studied something on a handheld electronic tablet.

Dawson stood before the man and spoke casually.

"Hey, old man. Still alive, I see."

The man looked up from the tablet, peering at Dawson through his glasses. His expression shifted to one of mild suspicion.

I don’t recognize your face.

You’re kidding. You’re senile. You said you’d never forget a nuisance like you, right?

The old man widened his eyes. He stared closely at Dawson again.

You’re the orphan kid who always nagged me to show you weapon catalogs. Huh. You’ve grown up.

His expression was like that of someone seeing a grandson after years. Like someone seeing a troublesome student they’d once disciplined.

You finally remembered. I came by because I’m nearby. Thought I’d stop by after so long.

What. If you’re not a guest, leave. You’re not a child anymore. I don’t have time to deal with your teasing.

I’m sorry about the past. That’s why I’m here as a guest.

Dawson’s words earned a half-lidded response from the old man.

"Hey, you little brat. You’re a military contractor now. What’re you buying at the black market? If you’re an undercover investigator, you should report this."

"I’m just a customer. A friend asked me to pick up a gift, but it was rejected in the military rations. So I came here to buy it myself."

"Rejected? What did you request?"

"Combat android weapons. Latest model."

"Reason for rejection?"

"Ah… I think it was to prevent leakage to civilian markets."

Dawson did not mention his activities on Orion Arm, and offered a plausible reason that was not false.

The old man narrowed his eyes, interpreting the rejection as evidence that Dawson was not highly regarded within the military.

"Let me tell you, it’s expensive."

"O-oh? You have it? Price is negotiable, but I’ve brought sufficient funds."

"Really? Even a two-generation-old weapon would cost this much."

The old man manipulated the tablet, displaying a weapon on the screen for Dawson to see.

"That's the multi-shot assault blaster I saw during combat command training at the Officer Academy. Stable. Good weapon."

"Good evaluation. The latest model is better. Can you afford it?"

Dawson glanced at the price on the screen, recognized it as within the expected range based on prior research, and nodded.

"More than enough."

"Ah. Then I'll show you something special."

The old man next displayed a weapon nearly identical to the previous blaster.

"This is the latest model. Firing rate increased by ten percent. Energy consumption reduced by five percent. Weight increased by ten percent—penalty, but irrelevant. It's designed for android use."

"Hmph. Specifications are solid numbers."

Dawson checked the tablet screen, then drew his beam pistol from his hip.

He pointed the muzzle not at the old man, whose eyes widened in surprise at the sudden movement, but at the face of the large man approaching from behind. The large man's hand was halfway toward Oine, who stood beside Dawson.

"Hey. What do you think you're doing to my partner?"

The large man turned pale upon realizing he was targeted by the beam pistol.

"Y-yes, no, I-I didn't—"

"Then what's that in your hand? Open it slowly and show me."

The large man glanced around for help, but no one stepped in. Each person present had their hand on their own weapon, ready to respond if Dawson fired.

In the tense atmosphere, the bulky man opened his thick palm as if surrendering.

"That is a device that transmits code to forcibly shut down an android's body. Judging by the modifications, it might rewrite the owner's control at the same time."

"Y-yes, that is..."

"Hmm? I want a clear answer."

Dawson pressed the energy rifle forward. The bulky man protested, voice rising in panic.

"P-please, I'm sorry! I just... I wanted it because it was so beautiful! That's why I tried to use this!"

The crowd in the black market released their weapons. They had no compassion for thieves who sought unjust gain. Most here dealt with wealthy connoisseurs.

Only one figure resembling a relative of the burly man stood motionless, weapon still in hand, but made no move to intervene. He knew that interfering would risk his own life.

Dawson glanced at the man’s relative and recognized the merchandise as a youthful female body type. He then looked at Oine and confirmed once more that it was more youthful than the burly man’s offering.

Confirming it did not change anything, but he understood that a fan of youthful female bodies might well lose control.

"Never mind. Now, how shall we settle this?"

Dawson’s glare caused the burly man’s face to turn pale, then white.

From the burly man’s hand, Oine took a suspicious device.

Before Dawson could ask what Oine intended, Oine pressed the device’s switch repeatedly toward himself.

"Hey! What are you doing!"

Don’t panic, Dawson. This kind of toy doesn’t work on my body, does it?

Oine tilted his head, pressing the device’s button repeatedly. It certainly wasn’t working.

The giant male’s face, watching the scene, was wide with shock. The device wasn’t defective then.

Oine’s body was rendering a device that should have stopped instantly without question.

Dawson had known Oine’s body was crafted by the Himeina tech sergeant with care, but he was stunned by how much functionality had been packed into it.

As he thought this, white smoke began rising from the gap at the device’s seam where Oine had been pressing.

Oh. Perhaps it’s a faulty modification. Fragile, then. Since it broke like this, it’s trash now.

Oine crushed the device emitting white smoke in front of the burly man, then tossed it onto the floor.

The burly man gathered the shattered pieces, weeping.

“Ooooh… roooorooooooon!”

Dawson hesitated, unsure what to do about the burly man’s strange cries, but kept the rifle pointed.

The elderly man, who had been negotiating with Dawson, watched the scene unfold and eventually shrugged.

“Hey, kid. Can’t you leave the cleanup to the black market operators?”

“…If you’ll take responsibility for it.”

“Appreciate it. Hey!”

The old man raised his voice. Men in black suits and sunglasses, looking exactly like the stereotype, ran over and lifted the burly man.

Their strength was unnatural. Whether it came from artificial intelligence or neural enhancement was unclear. They resembled androids.

Dawson understood why he had not stopped the burly man.

"Because of that device."

"Accepting that some would be taken, suppression was possible. There was no reason otherwise."

"Even if someone's possession might be taken?"

"A person who cannot secure their own safety or belongings should not come to the black market. You understand that, don't you, boy?"

"Considering that orphans with nothing are safer, that's more than clear."

Dawson dismissed the interruption with a slight frown and returned to his negotiation with the old man.

Taking into account that Ida already possessed weapons, he purchased the latest model portable thermal beam projector—laser bazooka—and the optical blade chain saw—laser saw.

At that time, the old man offered a slight discount, recognizing Dawson as a familiar face, and as an apology for the vendor’s inconvenience at the black market.