Geek Mob Mercenary Chapter 92

Mob No.92: “I knew this would happen…”

I got a room facing the love hotel street with a window, and opened the curtain a bit to keep watch on the shop the target entered.

I paid the woman in advance to spend time however she liked. But she said,

“Hey, the target probably won’t come out for 2 hours you know? Why not have some fun since we’re here?”

And approached me, but I firmly refused,

“I’m good, thanks. I don’t know when the target will come out.”

“How boring. Fine, I’ll rest a bit then.”

Saying that with an exasperated expression, she lay down on the bed and immediately began snoring. She must’ve been tired…

Two hours passed. The woman kept sleeping, nothing happened. The target, former Count Hotchkold’s son, came out looking satisfied.

After confirming he entered the ship, I quietly approached the door.

I thought the door would be locked, but it opened.

Ships like this should have automatic locks with ID unlocking, but apparently not. Careless.

So I quietly entered, but inside was oddly desolate.

There should be changes of clothes, personal items, but none of that, only garbage scattered about.

The fridge, shelves in the galley should have ingredients and seasonings, but nothing.

I checked the gun and cannon seats too, but not even spare blaster energy.

The passageways and rooms themselves looked quite old, but signs of recent use too.

Yet not a single person or droid.

You don’t need multiple people to operate a ship this size.

But that’s just navigation, not actual combat. A full crew of people and droids is needed for that.

Even accounting for vacations and maintenance, there should be a bare minimum crew.

But there wasn’t a hint of anyone here.

Not that the droids were deactivated, there were no droids at all. Like a ghost ship.

Heading to the bridge while looking around, there was a figure in the captain’s seat.

Undoubtedly Eric Hotchkold himself, the former Count’s son.

I quietly approached without noise, but either he didn’t notice me, vacantly gazing into air while muttering to himself.

“Being alone after having fun really is nice… Mother is annoying and thoughtless… Good thing I fired the servants early on. If I still had them, I’d have been killed probably.”

Curious about his murmurs,

“Why’d you fire them?”

I asked. But despite my question,

“I did around 7 acts of piracy, total haul around 200 million. That included fuel, ammo, food, just use it as is, but she sold it all off.”

He answered, but seeming to finally notice something off, reacted with,

“W-who’re you?!”

But with my gun pointed at him, he sat back down in the captain’s seat.

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“You’re Eric Hotchkold, former Count’s son, right? I’m with the mercenary guild.”

When I said that, the former Count’s son deeply sighed.

“I knew this would happen…”

“No droids at all, of course this would happen.”

Eric showed no resistance, so

“What caused this then?”

I asked.

“Mother sold off the fuel, ammo, food, that should just be used as is. That alone I could take. Pay the servants well with what’s left and get more stuff. But Mother decided to use it all for her own luxury, holed up in a high-end hotel in the upscale district.”

“So you fired the servants?”

“Sold everything on the ship, gave small severances, had them quit.”

“Where’s the money to go out from?”

“What I had when I left home. Well, gave over half to the servants. But thanks to it I got some peaceful time at least…probably.”

“Where is your mother now?”

“Holed up in the Imperial Suite at the Delapin Hotel in the upscale district.”

He obediently answered my questions.

Judging by looks, the former Count’s son seems high school or college age.

Frequenting adult shops at that age is questionable, but his face oozed hardship.

“You have my sympathy…”

As I handcuffed him, he had a somewhat relieved expression.

Whether relief at not committing more crimes, or relief from being freed of his mother, I couldn’t tell.

When handing him over to the police, I had him give me his multipurpose terminal.

A proper high-end hotel wouldn’t connect or relay a call from an unrelated person, I likely couldn’t even enter.

So the plan was to message the mother to come out.

He removed the security for me by the way.

And the message I sent said:

[Mother. A man came saying he wants to offer 2 ships to you. Apparently worth 200 million each.

He also wants to offer precious metals and jewels.

He insisted on meeting you before offering them, and showing you the ships. Sooner the better if possible. I know it’s trouble, but please hurry to the ship.]

Frankly I didn’t expect her to bite.

I figured she’d be suspicious, come with guards, or just send guards.

I sent pictures of Ms. Rossweisse and Ms. Gerhilde’s ships by the way.

And 20 minutes after the message, the mother came to the ship alone.

I, as the offering man’s servant, welcomed former Countess Rotana Hotchkold, but

“I’ve awaited you. Countess Rotana Hotchkold. I’m…”

“Where’s Eric? And the offered ships and jewels? Since the ships looked nice, I’ll take one as my personal ship, and the other’s funds for me. Begin the process at once.”

She didn’t listen at all, commanding me like any servant.

Uh-huh. The nobility for you. All commoners are servants to order around. No guilt over oppression. Just like that pink-headed jerk. You’re not related are you?

Since wandering around aimlessly wouldn’t accomplish anything, I pointed the tranquilizer gun at the peeved Countess Rotana Hotchkold wandering for lack of her son, and shot her in the neck.

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