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“According to my informants they’ve been interrogating him constantly, but he hasn’t spoken a word. He’s as trustworthy as ever.”

Next they discussed a certain unexpected issue they were facing.
They did not know yet how, but one of their assassin units had been discovered and their entire hideout was destroyed before they knew what was happening.

Ignaz had been trying to figure out the details of that incident, while also searching for Jorg, one of their members who was in that hideout.

So far he had been able to determine that Jorg was being held in a heavily secured jail within Nirvana’s imperial palace, with so many layers of security that breaking Jorg out was impossible.

He also heard that no matter what interrogation he went through, Jorg had remained silent and had not given away any information yet.

‘I see, at least he’s keeping to his word then.’

Garroba’s voice became pained as he replied, having heard everything Ignaz said.

“Oh right, you took him in as one of your disciples, didn’t you? This probably hurts to hear then, but there’s one more thing.”

With that preamble, Ignaz continued, “Stendhal contacted me earlier…” speaking like he was just giving a business report. That was something he heard from Stendhal, a merchant Ignaz had connections to.

Stendhal maintained the appearance of a regular merchant, but he also dealt with various outlawed items under the counter, like banned drugs or cursed articles.

With the tournament and all the people gathering in Ratnatraya, Nirvana’s capital, he had also gone there to expand his business. There he only sold items travelers would need, truly acting like a common merchant.

“He’s made a name for himself already, so it seems they found out who he was somehow, so yesterday he was approached by a certain person.” Ignaz then made sure to clarify that it was all Stendhal’s account as he continued.

That certain person was wearing a wide hat, pushed far down, and was cloaked in a thick robe. And while it was not summer, that person also wore a scarf to conceal their face, and used a device to change their voice.

“Stendhal quickly felt like something was off. It’s normal for people to disguise themselves when they go trade with him, but as he put it, this person was clearly overdoing it.”

In the black market people usually attempted to conceal their identities, to avoid future repercussions with the authorities.

But that person who came to Stendhal had gone to such lengths with their disguise that he instantly knew that whoever it was, they were determined to remain anonymous at all costs.

“He got suspicious of it, so he examined this person as much as he could while they spoke, trying to figure out their identity.”

At that point Garroba interrupted him, saying, ‘Just get to the point already, what does this have to do with us?’
Garroba was getting irked by the lengthy story, not seeing how that shady merchant and the incarcerated Jorg had to do with each other.

“Impatient as always, I see. I just figured it’d be nice to tell you how he’s doing, but alright as you wish.”

Ignaz let out a lengthy sigh and shrugged, summarizing the rest of the story.

“The way that person looked around, their constant wariness, and their rhythmic way of walking were all clearly features of someone from the military.”

He emphasized every word, as that was the crucial part of the story.
That mysterious person who went to trade with Stendhal was more than likely someone from the military.

‘The military? What would they want?’

That was enough to establish a faint connection, so Garroba became more intrigued.
A smug grin spread on Ignaz’ lips hearing that, bringing up even more details.
That military person was looking to buy a certain illegal drug from Stendhal.

“They were looking to purchase a drug called Ghost Whisper. I’m sure you know what that is, right Garroba? And you can connect the dots on what it’ll accomplish as well.”

It sounded like Ignaz was testing Garroba, while being convinced that there was nothing left to explain.

‘…Yes, I get it now. I didn’t think Nirvana were this desperate… No, this actually makes perfect sense at this point.’

Garroba had gotten the message without Ignaz having to spell it out, as well as what he was hinting at.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll go take care of it myself. If my disciple shat the bed, the least I can do is wipe his a̲s̲s̲.’

Everything was clear to Garroba, and he knew what he had to do.
He was well aware of Ghost Whisper. An outlawed heavily psychoactive drug that forced confessions out of people.
It caused severe after effects, usually death, but even the most trained of people could not resist it. It really was the ultimate tool to extract information.

At the same time, it was a death sentence for whoever was subjected to it, which was the main reason why it was outlawed.
Garroba knew that even someone like Jorg would become compromised once that drug entered the picture, and everything he knew about Ira Muerte would be exposed.

“Try to hurry with it, alright? Stendhal figured something was afloat so he tried to buy us time, telling the buyer that it’ll take a while before it arrives, but he’ll have to deliver the goods after a week so they don’t see him as a suspect too.”

Stendhal had to appear like a neutral party to the whole affair, so the most he could do was stall for a week before getting the drug. Any longer and the buyer would suspect he had a reason to not sell it.

But if Garroba assassinated Stendhal to stop the trade, Nirvana would simply find another merchant to procure the drug, a merchant without ties to Ira Muerte who would be much harder to track down.

The only way to keep Jorg’s mouth shut was to act directly.

‘I know, I’ll head there to dispatch him right away.’

The looming danger was evident to Garroba as well, so he hurried to take action. His disciple Jorg was being kept below Nirvana’s imperial palace, in an extremely secure jail that made it impossible to break him out.

But there was enough of an opening to sneak in.

There was only one solution, and with a heavy heart, Garroba settled on it as he departed to Nirvana. His disciple Jorg would succumb to the same assassination techniques he had learned from Garroba.