Kays Translations

Chapter 33: The Black Market Dealer and “0933”

The White Crow is the female leader of an underground trading syndicate operating in Suginami Ward.

White Crow originally lived in Shinjuku Ward and worked in nightlife. She cohabited with her boyfriend, a host, but he met a gruesome end—devoured by a monster right before her eyes at the onset of the Gremlin Disaster.

That horrifying scene shattered something within White Crow, breaking her sense of morality and conventional wisdom.

Seizing the chaos brought about by the Gremlin Disaster, White Crow began building her own influence. She recruited capable, tattoo-covered men who were acquaintances of her late boyfriend, as well as women easily swayed, and initiated her underground trade operations.

In the world post-Gremlin Disaster, desperation ruled everyone. Exploiting people’s predicaments, White Crow amassed significant wealth.

She bartered a small stash of cold medicine, hidden during mandatory pharmaceutical collections, for a large number of food ration coupons. She seduced a man in the livestock industry and siphoned off precious meat. She sold monster blood as “witch’s blood” and secretly purchased firearms recovered from dead Self-Defense Force members. She gathered orphaned women, trained them, and paired them with influential men in the chaotic society to extract privileges.

Her group thrived amidst the unprecedented calamity, living a life of luxury even in dire times.

However, White Crow’s spring of success was short-lived.

It was the witches and wizards who disrupted it.

In Tokyo, witches and wizards maintain order to varying degrees across districts. Food distribution, job assignments, patrol units fighting monsters—all are common features. Major incidents bring in the transcendent witches themselves.

Shinjuku Ward, where White Crow resided, was under the jurisdiction of the “Eyeball Witch.” The Eyeball Witch was a pacifist, disliking conflict, and lenient even toward groups like White Crow’s.

On one occasion, White Crow had a direct visit from the Eyeball Witch. Expecting punishment, she was instead caught off guard by the casual, almost friendly conversation, as though a concerned aunt was giving her life advice.

The Eyeball Witch was soft.

While the White Crow grew cocky, unsettling rumors emerged. Competitors in similar trades were vanishing without a trace.

Notably, in the adjacent Bunkyo Ward, all black-market operators disappeared overnight.

No reports of arrests or monster attacks surfaced. They simply vanished without warning.

Some of White Crow’s subordinates suggested expanding into the vacant territories, but the sharp-minded leader rebuked them.

Someone—likely a transcendent being, possibly a wizard with clairvoyance—was eliminating criminal elements with terrifying efficiency. If such supernatural actions were at play, human hands were not behind them.

This was no time for expansion.

The Eyeball Witch was friendly with the clairvoyant wizard. While the Eyeball Witch might be lenient, the clairvoyant wizard would take decisive action. If he moved to clean up Shinjuku for her sake, White Crow’s gang would be wiped out effortlessly.

Hurriedly, White Crow and her group packed up and fled in the dead of night, finding refuge in Suginami Ward.

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In Suginami, they realized that those left behind in Shinjuku could no longer be contacted. This confirmed their narrow escape. Days of nerve-wracking uncertainty passed before they felt the clairvoyant’s reach would not extend further. The wizard was not omnipotent. He could not monitor all of Tokyo.

Feeling safe, White Crow resumed her black-market operations in Suginami, albeit with more caution. She avoided overly malicious activities to avoid provoking the clairvoyant. Based on patterns of the disappeared, she deduced the limits of his tolerance.

She invested half of her illicit earnings into establishing and running orphanages for children left parentless by the Gremlin Disaster, a move meant to curry favor with the clairvoyant.

This seemed to work. She received a blank letter from the clairvoyant once, causing half her subordinates to flee in panic, but she remained alive and operating.

Suginami Ward’s poor security proved ideal for White Crow’s group.

The ward’s overseer, the “Pebble Witch,” was a recluse. Even before the disaster, she had been a lifelong shut-in, and she reluctantly took on the role of ward protector after persuasion by the late Vampire Wizard. Now, she rarely leaves her base—a manga café.

The Pebble Witch creates golems using gremlins as cores. These semi-automated stone figures patrol Suginami and fight monsters in her stead. However, the golems inherit her lethargic nature, occasionally ignoring passing monsters unless physically kicked into action by frustrated residents.

With such unreliable security, Suginami was far from safe. Still, it was better than witchless danger zones or the Zombie Witch’s domain.

The Pebble Witch’s aversion to authority also worked in White Crow’s favor. She would not surrender the group even if pressured by other witches.

While the Pebble Witch neither protected nor eliminated them, White Crow’s gang found enough breathing room to establish a stable underworld presence in Suginami.

Of course, should the Seer Wizard or another transcendent ever act decisively, they would have to flee again.

For now, White Crow’s group, known as the “Ravens,” flourishes in Suginami under the guise of running orphanages and pawnshops while thriving as one of Tokyo’s leading black-market organizations.

One spring day, long after the Mushroom Pandemic had passed and cherry blossoms gave way to fresh greenery, White Crow was examining stolen goods in a dimly lit basement beneath a pawnshop.

A rookie had brought the items, necessitating her personal inspection. Her group couldn’t afford to be duped with fakes.

The room, filled with luxury furniture salvaged from a former high-end apartment, reflected her taste. Cigarettes from the pre-disaster era, neatly organized on shelves, stood as a testament to her preference for the irreplaceable.

Under the glow of a magic lantern, White Crow scrutinized a staff with a loupe. If her subordinate’s claims were true, it was a rare creation by the legendary craftsman “0933,” a 27-year model dual-layer Gremlin staff.

White Crow had profited greatly from 0933’s staffs but had also suffered losses from fakes. This one needed careful verification.

The mysterious “Craftsman of Ome,” now known as 0933, began impacting their trade two and a half years ago.

His mass-produced staffs, despite being labeled as such, exhibited extraordinary craftsmanship. The initial “25-year models” were highly sought after in both legitimate and underground markets.

The staffs elevated hidden spells into powerful weapons, becoming coveted tools for those in the know.

However, 0933 remained an enigma. Attempts to meet him directly, particularly by venturing into Ome, resulted in certain death, thanks to the insane “Witch of Ome,” Tokyo’s most dangerous and powerful guardian.

“Don’t poke the witch,” White Crow thought. Some rules were best left unbroken.

That’s why it’s difficult to obtain a Type-25 staff, and even the Ravens have only managed to trade one.

That single staff was sold for 15 boxes of antibiotics, 6 cases of nutritional supplements, 3 boxes of pills, 8 boxes of chocolate, 6 drums of gasoline (250 liters each), and 10 bundles of food ration tickets from Shinjuku Ward.

For just one staff.

In pre-collapse terms, its value would have easily exceeded 500 million yen.

This single transaction brought the Ravens considerable profit, strengthened their organization’s foundation, and allowed them to hire five more caretakers (with childcare qualifications) for their orphanage.

The following year, the Type-26 model was introduced with an anti-magic-backflow mechanism, improving the staff’s performance.

As the Type-25 became obsolete, the demand for the Type-26 soared.

Among the rogue wizards who had stolen spells from witches, those unable to properly handle their trump cards due to magic backflow particularly sought after the Type-26.

The Ravens went through great lengths to acquire a single Type-26 for a wealthy landowner secretly running unregistered fields outside the witches’ controlled zones.

This time, they sold it for the leg bone of a Dragon Witch, two rolls of spider silk cloth from the Spider Witch, and 10 cartons of cigarettes bearing the Tobacco Witch’s mark—all incredibly rare and priceless items.

This deal also yielded huge profits for the Ravens, allowing them to use the resale of the rare items they had gained to secure a graduate from a magic university as a resident magic instructor for their organization. They also hired five qualified teachers for the orphanage and installed three new playground equipment sets.

However, the following year, the Type-27 model caused them significant losses.

The Ravens had arranged for a first-year magic university student to “lose” a Type-27 staff after enrolling and smuggle it out to them.

But just as they acquired the Type-27 and prepared to sell it to a major client, the magic university began mass-producing standard staffs.

Clients flocked to the mass-produced staffs. They were cheaper, more accessible, equipped with anti-magic-backflow mechanisms, and had decent magic amplification rates.

Even the high-end clients willing to deal in black market goods began negotiating to buy at rock-bottom prices.

The substantial investment made to obtain the Type-27 turned into a massive financial loss due to the wand’s plummeting value.

The craftsmanship of Ome’s staffs remained top-tier. Their performance and design were unmatched.

But they could no longer fetch the exorbitant prices they once commanded.

For the Ravens, the year of the Type-27 became one of losses and stagnation, with their only major change being the introduction of a birthday cake program at the orphanage.

As for the latest Type-28, the university tightened security after last year’s smuggling incident, making it impossible to acquire one so far. The Mushroom Pandemic had also taken a toll on the organization and the orphanage, causing notable losses.

On the other hand, they did manage to gather some information about the mysterious staff craftsman.

According to an insider at the Bunkyo Ward Office, the craftsman is referred to as “0933” among those in the know.

0933 is said to be under the protection of the Blue Witch, a close associate of the president of Tokyo Magic University, relied upon by a seer, and connected to the Flower Witch. Recently, they sealed the Flame Witch and are now on good terms with the successor Flame Keeper Witch. There’s even speculation of friendly relations with the Hell Witch (as she was seen leaving Tokyo with a strange staff).

The Ravens were at a loss with such explosive connections in Tokyo’s magical scene.

If they recklessly antagonized 0933, the Ravens—and the entire Suginami Ward—could be razed to the ground. The diplomatic non-engagement policy of the Pebble Witch would provide little defense.

0933’s works sell for exorbitant prices.

Which is why handling them must be done with the utmost care.

Recently, a new item crafted by 0933, a magic recovery-enhancing tool called the “Omamori Amulet,” has started circulating. It’s being sold in the campus store at the magic university and, in small quantities, through general workshops.

Rather than focusing on the difficult-to-obtain staff, it might be better to shift toward manufacturing counterfeit or budget copies of the 0933 brand. Staying entirely hands-off with 0933-related items might be safer, but carefully leveraging the brand without angering their associates could be lucrative and out maneuver competitors.

However, that depends on the results of the industrial espionage currently targeting the workshops manufacturing the Omamori Amulets. The “secret sauce” brought by the Tohoku Hunting Association also seems promising as a potential business venture. Should they allocate additional personnel to investigate it? They also need to verify the rumor about a currency issuance plan that could end the ration system. So many things to think about.

As White Crow pondered the past and present, she found evidence of a counterfeit staff brought in by a rookie and clicked her tongue in frustration, throwing the staff into a trash bin in the corner.

The alleged Type-27 universal dual-layer gremlin wand, supposedly crafted by 0933, had an impossible flaw.

The anti-backflow mechanism, standard on all staff from the Type-26 onward, is meticulously embedded into the handle, concealed within the wood grain seams. Normally, it’s invisible, but bending the handle while dusting it with flour and blowing it off reveals the seam as a white outline.

The brought-in staff lacked this feature.

Although its gremlin core resisted scratches even from diamonds, it seemed warped—uncharacteristic of 0933’s work. A confirmed fake.

Irritated, White Crow lit the cigarette resting in the ashtray and inhaled deeply.

It was just a rookie mistake—a puppy bringing garbage, thinking it was treasure. A light punishment for the rookie would suffice.

The real problem was the scoundrel who’d passed off the counterfeit. They needed to make sure such insolence was never repeated.

As White Crow wrote orders to deal with the matter, a knock came from the basement door leading to the ground floor.

“What is it?”

“There’s a visitor.”

“Oh, give me a moment… Even small pebbles have troubles, you know, oh VeeVeeDeeDee.”

White Crow placed the cigarette back in the ashtray, pulled out a sharp gremlin, and cast a basic Pebble Witch spell on it. This was one of the spells they’d learned by offering a volume of famous manga series to the manga-loving Pebble Witch.

The enchanted gremlin floated at White Crow’s command and affixed itself above the door leading to the ground floor. Though the spell’s power was minimal—barely enough to pierce bone—it consumed a ridiculous amount of magic and lasted only briefly. However, its surprise factor made it a favorite tool.

The customers sent to her were not for her legitimate pawnshop business but for underground dealings. And not just any customers—they were VIPs.

Because they were VIPs, she had to be prepared for anything.

The man who entered after the signal was given was a large figure she had never seen before.

Standing nearly two meters tall, he was built with thick muscles, giving him a bulky appearance overall. However, he didn’t seem particularly sharp. He resembled a troll in a tightly fitted suit—dumb and clumsy.

She already had a bad feeling, but a woman’s intuition could sometimes be wrong. Remaining cautious, White Crow asked the man his business.

“I’m White Crow of the Ravens. And you?”

“Moful. I’m here to sell this.” 

The man introduced himself with a curt reply, tearing open the package in his hands and rolling its contents onto the high-end ebony desk.

“Wait… this is…”

Seeing the item, White Crow muttered in disbelief. She fought to suppress the pounding in her chest and the unease threatening to show on her face.

It was a staff of unmistakable quality. At first glance, she could tell it was a masterpiece, carrying the distinct marks of being crafted by 0933.

The staff’s metallic handle, robust yet adorned with fine details, was undeniable proof that this was no ordinary mass-produced university staff but a custom-made, high-end 0933 creation.

In other words, it was a witch’s staff.

As White Crow’s trembling hand turned the staff, her eyes caught the engraving on the handle: “Flame Keeper.”

It was the staff of the Flame Witch.

This was no ordinary item—this was the staff of the former Flame Witch, a now-sealed wielder whose ownership had been stripped. This dangerous artifact was far beyond what the Ravens could safely handle.

“How did you even get your hands on this?” 

She asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“I stole it. It wasn’t easy, let me tell you.” 

Moful replied with a smug grin.

But there was nothing to boast about.

If he had acquired it through cunning deception, there might have been some room for maneuver. But outright theft was inexcusable.

Of course, getting her hands on a witch’s staff could open the door to dealings on an unprecedented scale.

But that would inevitably come with guaranteed retaliation and, most likely, her death. Even the Eyeball Witch, known for her composure, would undoubtedly lose her temper.

White Crow took a deep breath, trying to assess the situation. There was still hope—perhaps Moful was backed by one of the witches, and they had deliberately orchestrated the theft of the Flame Witch’s staff. After all, the witches weren’t exactly a tight-knit family.

“Who’s backing you? How many layers did you go through?”

“Huh?”

“There’s you, the thief, and then a courier, at the very least. How many intermediaries are involved?”

“I didn’t bother with anything that complicated. I stole it myself and brought it straight here.”

“…And your backer?”

“Didn’t bring a bag.”

The sheer stupidity of his proud answer gave her a headache. She desperately wished this was just a bad dream.

She couldn’t believe that someone this clueless could successfully steal a witch’s staff. Then it hit her: today was the day of the regular witches’ gathering.

If Moful had taken the wand from the house of the newly instated Flame Witch while she was away attending the meeting, it might—through sheer coincidence or misfortune—have been possible.

White Crow quickly pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. The witches’ gathering would be over soon.

If Moful had gone directly, without intermediaries, there was a high likelihood he had been seen by someone. It was entirely possible that the theft had already been discovered, reported to the Flame Witch, and a search was underway.

White Crow pushed the staff back toward Moful and explained in terms even he could understand:

“I can’t buy this. You need to return it right now and beg for your life.”

If Moful had been seen at any point during the theft, there was no way he could claim he had “retrieved it from a thief.” His only option was to apologize sincerely and plead for the witch’s mercy.

In this world, where witches reigned supreme, anyone who failed to know their place or misjudged when to back down would die.

More than anything, White Crow wanted him to leave immediately. The longer she stayed with him, the worse the witches’ perception of her would be.

Sure, it might be entertaining to watch a fool dig his own grave, but she had no desire to be dragged into the same grave alongside him.

“What’s this? Are you scared? So, the mighty White Crow is just a woman after all!”

“You seem to have a death wish, but I’ll leave the execution to the witches. Now, the exit is that way.”

White Crow gestured toward the door leading to the ground floor, but Moful complained with dissatisfaction.

“You’re being too paranoid. The Flame Witch is already dead, isn’t she?”

“No, she’s not. She’s just sealed. And there’s already a successor.”

“So what?”

“It means the new Flame witch, whose precious sister’s staff you stole, is going to come after you in a rage and kill you. Even the Pebble Witch won’t protect you from a furious witch’s attack—she doesn’t tolerate interference from other witches, you know.”

“Hah! That so-called Flame witch isn’t even a real witch. You think I’d be scared of some brat with a staff, acting tough?”

“Oh, really…”

He was completely unreasonable.

White Crow decided it would be faster to send Moful to the Flame Witch as a corpse rather than alive.

She focused her thoughts and commanded the gremlin waiting above the door to attack Moful from behind.

However, to her shock, Moful sensed the ambush just in time and dodged the gremlin’s spearhead with incredible speed and agility, completely unexpected given his bulky frame.

“Whoa! That was close!”

As the gremlin’s strike pierced through the desk, leaving a hole, White Crow tried to redirect it for another attack. But Moful drew a handgun and aimed it squarely at her forehead faster than she could react.

Clicking her tongue in frustration, White Crow raised her hands in surrender and ordered the gremlin to crumble to dust at her feet, demonstrating compliance.

She had underestimated him due to his foolish demeanor. It seemed his story about stealing the staff from a witch’s house was true.

“I could feel your killing intent, White Crow. I was trying to handle this deal peacefully, you know, but you just had to pull a stunt like that.”

“I’ll admit I let my guard down. But if you shoot me here, my subordinates will kill you as soon as they rush in.”

“Not a chance. You think I came here without a plan?”

Honestly, she had thought as much.

But White Crow kept silent, raising her hands to urge him to continue.

“I’ve got men stationed at the orphanage. If I don’t come back, they’ll attack it.”

“What did you say?”

“If you care about those precious kids’ lives, you’d better call off your men and hand over everything valuable in your stash!”

“……..Fine. Behind the door over there is the vault. I’ll have to shout to open it, but don’t shoot me, alright? Moeka!”

White Crow raised her voice, and the door to the vault opened with a heavy sound. Her aide, Moeka, entered with a questioning expression.

“Moeka, listen carefully. ‘Do everything this man says, and don’t resist him. Treat his orders as if they were my own.’ Do you understand?”

“! Yes, boss. Um, sir?”

“Escort him inside.”

“Hah, you’re cooperative. Smart move. And don’t try anything funny…”

Moful kept his gun pressed to the back of Moeka’s head as he cautiously followed her into the vault.

Once the door closed, there was a brief moment of silence.

Then came Moful’s cry of shock and a scream, followed by stillness.

A moment later, Moeka opened the door. Her youthful face, usually so innocent, was now spattered with blood.

Hailing from the lawless streets of Saitama City, Moeka was one of the most fearsome fighters in White Crow’s organization.

“Boss, it’s done.”

“Good work. One more thing—Moful said he had men stationed at the orphanage.”

“What? …Understood. I’ll handle it immediately.”

“Please do.”

Moeka sprinted upstairs like a gale.

In the meantime, White Crow handed the Flame witch’s staff to another subordinate, explaining the situation and ordering its prompt delivery back to the witch.

She considered sending Moful’s corpse along with the staff but decided against it—the large man’s body would be a hassle to transport. Returning the staff quickly would suffice, and she could explain the circumstances later to show her sincerity.

The new Flame witch was said to be reasonable and just, much like her sister.

Exhausted, White Crow leaned back in her high-end office chair and pinched the short cigarette in her ashtray. Taking one last deep drag that nearly burned the filter, she exhaled a cloud of smoke slowly.

The thugs targeting the orphanage would be dealt with soon.

The children at the orphanage were the lifeblood of her organization, protected at all costs.

If the orphanage were abandoned, every single member of the organization would mysteriously die, without exception.

It was entirely out of self-interest—a calculation of survival. Yet, to the children, “Big Sister White Crow,” who often brought them sweets and toys, was a beloved figure.

It gave White Crow complicated feelings.

Children… They’d grow up to be awful adults sooner or later, she was sure.

But at least she hoped they wouldn’t turn into terrible people who called someone like her “boss.”

That was the quiet wish of this ruthless underworld queen.

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