Geek Mob Mercenary Chapter 40

Mob No.40: “Usually it’s to meet up with friends you haven’t seen, but we meet often so…”

Hearing that news, Uncle Roans and I froze in shock.

The fruit of so many people’s efforts was so cruelly stolen after all.

“Bold thieves they are.”

“We’re not actually suspects are we…”

“It was a heist planetside. They’re not stupid enough to suspect you guys who were in space the whole time.”


Honestly, quite anxious.

When nobles expecting profit from the rare metals get frustrated, blaming workers on site like mercs and laborers is common.

Might have to find the real culprit ourselves depending on circumstances.

But that’s not something I should get involved in.

“Leave it to the police. Sticking your neck in won’t help.”

As if reading my mind, Uncle Roans lightly warned me.

“Yeah, I’ll be off then. Before they demand the payment back.”

“Surely they wouldn’t…”

I said it jokingly, didn’t expect it to be a real concern.

So I should leave quickly.

I decided to go see Gonzalez for info on this phantom thief incident.

On the way, I thought to stop by that butcher shop and buy something for the first time.

The shop owner seemed a normal friendly ossan, but the whole product lineup was like:

Beef = Minotaur Meat – Pork = Orc Meat – Chicken = Cockatrice Meat – Ham = Flesh Membrane – Croquette = Blissful Golden.

How far did he take this gimmick…

Anyway I bought 4 croquettes there then headed to Pattson’s.


“Welcome…oh, it’s you.”

My friend Gonzalez greeted me as usual, skipping the usual greeting and immediately asking what I wanted to know.

“Got any info on the rare metal theft?”

I placed the croquettes and tea bottle on the counter and slid them to Gonzalez.

“Mostly manga-like or conspiracy theories.”

Seeing Gonzalez pick up a croquette, I took one too.

First time eating them but pretty tasty.

“Manga-like, so a flashy illusion by a great phantom thief? Wars between fans of a cute girl thief or hot guy thief?”

“Around there probably.”

Gonzalez finished his croquette and reached for the tea.

“How about serious angles?”

“Zilch. But inside help’s certain I guess.”

Even his information network apparently knew nothing concrete.

Well, best not poke your nose in anyway.

As Gonzalez reached for a second croquette, he asked

“So, the joint reunion tomorrow, you going?”

Right, an invite for a joint alumni reunion arrived at the Guild during the first collection day.

Joint meaning for us whose numbers plummeted after being forced into that mercenary unit, making reunions difficult, to help us out supposedly.

Which of course just means a chance to get close to Lior Burnext and Skoona Noswile.

“I rejected immediately when I got it during the collection job, didn’t plan on going.”

“Me too. I meet friends I wanna regularly.”

Gonzalez made a disgusted face.

“I know, probably no change…”


That guy is our classmate in 2nd year Arodih Ehrenburgas, among the top of the school caste.

Not a noble, but as the president’s son of Ehrenburgas Commerce, of course a hunk.

Always had followers, completely open elite mentality, fun-centric, loved flirting, picking up girls, and mounting them. Like a model scumbag ikemen.

So not just us, all the class loners were bothered by him.

Wanting to avoid him even more than Lior Burnext probably conveys how we feel.

At least Burnext just made lame jokes and never got violent.

Gonzalez heard he’s currently studying abroad, living a stylish life to inherit his father’s business.

“Usually it’s to meet up with friends you haven’t seen, but we meet often so…”

Gonzalez said, spreading out his newspaper and reaching for the third croquette.

“Well, true.”

Agreeing at his words, I drank some tea and bit into my half-eaten croquette.

Relieved to get no calls to refund payment yesterday, after cleaning and whatnot I decided to get my gun maintenance done for the first time in a while today.

I barely shoot, so just clean monthly or after using.

So I figured I’d get it checked by a pro.

The shop’s called [Swanson Guns] in the basement of a building downtown.


“Welcome! Been a while huh.”

“Don’t use guns much.”

Inside, a thick explosion and laser-proof acrylic sheet over the sturdy counter protects everything, customers select goods on display screens.

And the attendant was the shop owner’s daughter Linda, still in high school apparently.

Maybe skips school a bit…

Don’t see the shop owner, probably repairing or restoring in the back.

I placed my gun at the transaction slot in the counter, she took it and

“Seems properly maintained.”

said, sitting at the work table behind the counter and beginning to disassemble the gun swiftly.

Way faster than my slow method, in pieces instantly.

And she’s still just learning they say.

While working, she suddenly spoke up.

“Hey, you don’t want custom guns?”

“What’s an amateur supposed to do with custom pieces?”

“C’mooon, mercs want them right?”

“Don’t need or want them. Wasteful.”

We’ve had this exchange ever since she started working here.

She’s apparently dying to build a gun she designed from scratch.

So she asks me, who doesn’t have custom pieces, to order one, basically fund her.

“Even if given a custom piece, I rarely use guns so mass-produced is plenty.”

“Ugh, I wanted to try some new materials…”

Pouting as she worked was admittedly cute.

Just as the overhaul finished, the door burst open energetically with a customer who was clearly going to be a headache.

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