Geek Mob Mercenary Chapter 66

Mob #66: “Anyway, come home for a bit. Don’t worry, I placated the neighborhood grannies!”

With the payment processed, I immediately headed to the bank since the money from selling my fighter after the past failure was still in my bracelet terminal, plus I hadn’t sent my parents their portion yet.

In other words, besides living expenses I have 12 million credits cash on hand presently.

Realizing this, I want to deposit it at the bank ASAP.

En route, I get an unexpected call – my dad.

“Hello Dad? What’s up so suddenly?”

[Where are you now?]

“At the guild finishing up paperwork for a job, about to head home. Why?”

[You’re on Planet Yts right, at the guild? Wanna meet up? I’m on Yts for your cousin’s wedding.]

Looking closely, he’s dressed up in a suit, not his work or casual clothes.

The cousin’s likely someone I might’ve met as a kid, but frankly I don’t remember her at all.

Of course my parents would know her.

Anyway, it’s rare for him to visit so I decide I want to meet up.

“Ah, where are you now?”

[Just got to Parlbear Station.]

Parlbear Station is the nearest transit hub to the guild.

“Close by. Wanna meet at the Pegathuth Meteor family restaurant nearby? I’ve got stuff to finish first so might be 40 minutes late, I’ll let you know if I’ll be delayed.”

[Got it. Later then.]

After hanging up with Dad, I go straight to the bank, deposit 8 million of the 12 million total from the past appraisal and current job, then head to the promised Pegathuth Meteor.

Arriving, my parents are already seated in a booth.

“Sorry for the wait.”

“Long time John, you look well.”

“Mom…you’ve lost weight…”

“Thanks to karaoke and gardening daily!”

Mom I haven’t seen in ages looks completely different, slender now.

Could she have had weight loss therapy?

Well, as long as she’s healthier it’s fine.

More importantly, there’s something I must ask.

“That’s right Dad, what happened with the debt?”

“Oh, I was able to fully repay principal and interest with the money you sent. Here’s the IOU.”

The IOU he shows is undoubtedly real.

More like he had it readily stored on his bracelet terminal.

“Glad you could clear it fully. And no hassles either, great.”

Even decent finance firms could make trouble if those false accusers wanted to nitpick, so I was worried, but thankfully that didn’t happen.

“Caused you trouble. Even made you quit university.”

Dad says that apologetically.

“Well, thanks to it I got a lucrative job. It worked out.”

If I’d graduated, I doubt I’d have found decent work anyway.

Good spots are dominated by nobles, some companies prioritize looks in hiring, most want plug-and-play hires and don’t develop talent, with awful pay despite imposing harsh conditions.

And I lacked appeal points to begin with.

Compared to that, the complete meritocracy of high-risk yet high-return mercenary work, regardless of looks, is an ideal workplace.

In a sense, what happened in 10th grade showed me my future path.

While pondering that, at some point Mom who’d ordered a chocolate parfait says,

“Anyway, come home for a bit. It’s fine, I placated the neighborhood grannies!”

The neighborhood grannies are the ones who spread nasty rumors after hearing my mercenary occupation, making me avoid home.

Despite not even knowing me.

I’m quite curious how she silenced them.

READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT GADGETIZEDPANDA.COM

“What’d you do?”

“[My son sends money 3 times monthly. This month a whopping 2 million per remittance!] I said, and they immediately sucked up to me!”

You know it’s not the same amount each time right?

Why make it sound like I send that much every time?

Thwy was probably fed up with that grannies.

And I can’t strongly deny it either.

Since it’ll reinforce what I’m about to hand over.

“Oh, here’s this month’s remittance. A third of the total from my last two jobs.”

“There’s no more debt right?”

When I hold out my bracelet terminal, Dad admonishes me.

Why, when the debt’s paid?! is what he means.

“It motivates me in my work, so take it.”

But I lightly push out my terminal, since I don’t plan on stopping yet.

“…Fine, I’ll gratefully accept it.”

Dad sighs and reluctantly takes it looking resigned.

The amount is 4 million, a third of the 12 million total from 1.155 million and 450,000.

“…That’s incredible. A third of it is this much?”

Mom is quite shocked by the sum.

“Just two jobs easily exceed my salaryman annual income…”

Dad is dejected.

The pay’s certainly good, but it’s at the cost of my life after all.

I reboot my briefly frozen parents, then enjoy the rare family meal.

Right after finishing eating, Mom orders another parfait – that’ll rebound fast.

Heading to the toilet then, a customer enters the restaurant with their hood up despite it being midday without rain or cold weather – likely some reason for the hood.

As I’m pondering that, they stare fixedly at me.

Then suddenly crouch down, taking something from their parka – a gun, with a glimpse of pink hair from the hood.

The instant I see that, I hide behind the toilet wall.

A deafening blast sounds simultaneously, destroying a nearby booth, screams ringing out in the restaurant.

Lucky no one was sitting there.

How’s this guy who should be jailed or committed walking around freely?

Lots of questions, but I call out while hiding in the wall’s shadow,

“Weren’t you arrested?”

to draw Anchovy’s attention.

“That was unlawful arrest! It’s no crime for me, a Baron’s daughter, to demand funds from commoners at gunpoint!”

Pink-head acts as if she was merely asserting her lawful rights.

“So you came to attack me?”

“I just happened to enter. But perfect timing. I’ll purge the lowly commoner who defied me, a Baron’s daughter’s orders! That sassy receptionist too!”

No chance of discussion, clearly.

The receptionist likely means Miss Zeistol.

Hopefully while she’s focused on me, the staff can evacuate the customers and call the police.

But from her state, she may cause further harm if left alone, necessitating swift action.

I draw my laser pistol from the holster and disable the mandatory public safety lock.


 
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