pertwk Chapter 52 Intelligence Trading
Chapter 52 Intelligence Trading
"The Night Owl Brotherhood..."
Suren repeated the name, her gaze falling on the metal plaque in her hand.
I've actually heard of this organization before.
The Night Owl Brotherhood is a unique entity. They almost never participate in any conflicts, don't take sides, and simply sell intelligence—clean, efficient, and with clearly marked prices. Even the Deathbird Monks occasionally make deals with them. Suren remembers seeing an internal document in the duty station that mentioned this organization, describing it in four words: trustworthy and reliable.
This kind of credibility isn't something they just talk about; they won't provide information about their employers, and they won't make an exception no matter how high the offer.
Of course, this rule only protects those who have traded with them in the Brotherhood. They don't care much about those who have never dealt with them before.
Thinking about this, Suren was a little puzzled: "Isn't the Night Owl Brotherhood just selling intelligence?"
Bald Toby touched his forehead, rubbing his smooth head twice with his hand, making a soft rustling sound.
"It's normal to sell other things occasionally, but intelligence is our main business. You can rest assured that the intelligence is absolutely true!" Bald Toby grinned. "With that badge, even if you go to other cities in the future, the Night Owl Brotherhood will provide you with accurate intelligence based on it."
He said this with a hint of pride, pointing to the plaque in Suren's hand and tilting his head back, "I only gave you this plaque because you spent 20 pounds to buy bullets. Not everyone can get one."
Suren found it somewhat amusing. To put it bluntly, he just thought his money was easier to earn and planned to play the long game.
He didn't expose the truth. After putting away the sign, he stopped the small talk and asked directly, "So, how much information do you have about demons?"
"If it's just Loren Town, I have most of the common ones around there. It depends on how much you're willing to pay." The bald man smiled, picked up the gold pound that Suren had placed on the stall, and flipped it between his fingers.
Suren thought for a moment. Due to the terrain and geographical location of Loren Town, demons were not rampant in the surrounding wilderness. There was even only one Level III demon—the one that the mysterious man had put up a bounty on.
After calculating the quantity, he realized it was at most ten or so documents. He nodded: "I need intelligence on all Level II demons, the 'Dominators.' How many gold pounds?"
Bald Toby was stunned for a moment, then overjoyed. He pulled out a small bag from behind him and rummaged through it for a while.
The sound of paper rubbing came from the bag. After rummaging through it for a while, he pulled out a stack of documents and placed them on the stall.
The handwriting on the document was neat and legible, all done with a fountain pen and the ink was even.
"Actually, I suggest you do some filtering." He held up a finger and tapped it on the paper, his tone becoming more sincere. "Some of the information is from a month ago, and that 'Dominator Demon' might not even be in its original location anymore."
"No need, I'll take them all," Suren replied, shaking her head. Now was not the time to save money.
Seeing that Suren insisted, Bald Toby stopped trying to dissuade him. He shrugged and said, "But you can rest assured that information that has exceeded the time limit is relatively cheaper."
He picked through the documents and divided them into three stacks.
"These," he said, tapping on the first stack, "are mostly intelligence from about a month ago. Four in total, twenty pounds for you." He moved his finger to the second stack. "This second intelligence, though more recent, is missing some information."
He paused, then said with a hint of frankness, "Three portions in total, that'll cost you forty-five pounds."
His fingers finally landed on the last stack—just two thin documents, which he had neatly arranged.
"These last two." He lowered his voice, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes. "The intelligence is very comprehensive. I'll charge you one hundred and fifty pounds."
After saying that, he took out a pen from his bag and marked each piece of intelligence so that Suren could easily distinguish them.
"Then it's 215 pounds in total. But given your generosity, I'll only charge you 210 pounds." Bald Toby looked at Suren and smiled at him.
Suren thought about it and realized that the price was indeed quite fair, especially considering that the plaque was included as a bonus.
He scanned the documents. Fortunately, even if he only hunted one "Dominator Demon," the rest of the information wasn't a complete loss. At least he could understand the abilities of demons of the same type, since there were always commonalities.
He sighed and counted out two hundred and ten pounds from his wallet—through the "Mandala Ring," of course.
The thick stack of St. Paul's pounds, tossed onto the stall, immediately attracted the attention of those around them. However, once they realized that the person making the transaction was the bald Toby, they looked away.
Before bald Toby could finish counting, Suren reached out and picked up the three stacks of documents, quickly flipping through them.
The handwriting was neat, the information detailed, and some even included hand-drawn diagrams—the outline of the Demon Ruler, markings of its activity range, and traces of its activation. He quickly scanned a few pages, making sure nothing was missing, then put the documents into his pocket and placed them in his ring.
He asked, seemingly casually, "A friend of mine wants to go to 'Libraton,' but it's inconvenient for him to take the official steam train. Do you have any connections?"
Bald Toby finished counting the gold pounds. He paused for a moment, then understood what Suren meant. He stroked his chin and pondered for a while, then, as if he had thought of something, he raised his right index finger and grinned: "There is a nobleman and wealthy merchant from 'Libraton' named Charles Russell who is currently preparing to return home. It seems that due to some unforeseen circumstances, he has suffered some losses and is looking for capable civilian superhumans to hire as mercenaries."
Seeing Suren reach for his money, Toby waved his hand and said cheerfully, "This information is free; after all, it's something you can easily find out by asking around."
Suren was taken aback, not expecting this guy to be so professional. He nodded and was about to turn and leave when Bald Toby seemed to remember something and suddenly stood up.
"Sir, here's a piece of information for you." Bald Toby's voice was lowered, as if afraid of being overheard. "There have been some apocalyptic rumors circulating lately. You've probably heard of 'The Wasteland Frontier,' haven't you?"
Suren nodded; Professor Derwent had mentioned this place before. Bald Toby leaned forward, his voice even lower.
"Recently, the area of the 'Desolate Frontier' has been shrinking towards the Protected Continent." His tone held a newfound sincerity. "Be careful when you hunt."
After saying that, he leaned back and sat down on the ground again, starting to tidy up his stall as if nothing had happened.
"Doomsday?" Suren repeated the word. He looked at bald Toby, nodded, said nothing more, and turned to leave.
Afterwards, Suren went to the duty station for a stroll.
Everything seemed normal at the Dead Bird's post—a few new bounty posters were on the bulletin board, and several colleagues were huddled together in a corner, chatting quietly.
Suren flipped through the bounties and found that only one mission to hunt "evil spirits" met his requirements. After considering it for a moment, he decided not to accept it and kept it as a backup.
After searching the duty station, they couldn't find Karl anywhere. He was probably still excited and had run off somewhere to show off his saint status.
By the time Suren came out of the duty station after having dinner, it was already dark.
That evening, Suren sat at the table in his residence, the dim yellow light of the gas lamp illuminating the surface.
Two sets of documents lay in front of him: on the left was the professor's jumbled stack of research notes, and on the right were nine documents he had bought from Baldy Toby.
There was a blank notebook in front of Suren. Now he needed to analyze it carefully and determine his hunting target.