December 26
City Center, Seve, Johan Republic
The 10 members of the "shopping group," which searches for water and food, are divided into four groups and searched the city's markets. Capilla Sinusoid, a member of Sareed's guards, is searching the bag with Nitta. He, too, inwardly thinks that Nitta is a dolt, and asked him about his lost property.
"What is this passport that was stolen from your bag?"
"It is an official document that gives proof of nationality and identity when traveling abroad in the world where we originally came from. It is shaped like a thin notebook with a dark red cover."
There are four types of passports issued by the Japanese government: one is a dark blue or red general passport that is carried by the general public; the other is a green official passport that is carried by members of the Diet, national public officials, and other public sector personnel when they travel on government business; and the third is a dark red diplomatic passport to be carried by the Imperial Family, the Prime Minister, the President of the House of Councillors, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Ambassadors Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary, diplomats, and others on official business, and the last is a brown emergency passport issued only in case of an urgent need to travel abroad. Among these, Nitta and the others were in possession of "diplomatic passports" used by diplomats on official business.
"Oh, there is something like that..."
Capilla chimed in after listening to Nitta's explanation.
"The bills, cards, and passport in my wallet, which I left in my bag, are of no value to the thieves of this world... I hope they are safe..."
Nitta prayed for the safety of the stolen goods. At that moment, he received a call on the walkie-talkie he was carrying.
"This is Nitta, over."
"This is Nomura, we found the bag."
"Really!?"
The communication was delivered by First Lieutenant Nomura, who was in command of the delegation escort. Upon hearing the news of the discovery of the object he had reported, Nitta could not help but let out an exclamation of admiration.
"Where is it!?"
Nitta inquired about the current location of Nomura and his team.
"It's on Fifth Avenue in the Loam District, southwest of the capital!"
"I'm on my way there right now!"
Nitta then hung up the walkie-talkie. Immediately after, he and Capilla both ran to the designated location.
Fifth Avenue, Loam District, southwest of Seve
The trio of Shimon, Nina, and Nomura, who had been waiting for Nitta and Capilla to arrive, spotted them rushing toward them from afar, out of breath through the crowd.
"...You're here."
"Y-yes, we're here... haah... so, where's my bag?"
Nitta, out of breath, inquired about the whereabouts of the objects of his search. After a sigh, First Lieutenant Nomura answered his question.
"You can thank Nina-san for that. It was thanks to her knowledge of the local situation."
"...!"
He turned toward the direction he indicated and saw the face of the girl looking embarrassed.
"Thank you."
Nitta thanked Nina for finding his bag. After that, Nomura and three others brought Nitta and Capilla to a bag that is for sale at a "certain stall".
"Ah, there it is!!"
Nitta is so shocked that he lets loose a slightly distracted line. He was so thrilled to have finally found the lost and found that he had been searching for, he was on the verge of tears.
'The contents are safe... I'm relieved...'
He opened the bag and found his wallet and passport intact. As expected, the driver's license, various cards, and banknotes were intact. The gold and silver coins that would fund the delegation were originally managed by Shimon and Endo, so there was no need to worry about this.
"..."
After confirming that the contents are safe, he called outs to the store owner, who appears to be sleeping beside his merchandise.
"Hey, owner!"
"I'm awake..."
The owner of the stall said he was awake, but his voice sounded as if he had just woken up from sleep. Nitta told him his requirements in a straightforward manner.
"I'm sorry, sir, but this is something that was stolen from me last night. Can you give it back to me?"
Nitta told the stall owner the facts as they are. The owner replies after a short pause.
"Hell no... this is an auction item. If you want it, write down the price. If no one comes along with a higher price by evening, you win."
The owner pointed to the bag Nitta was holding in his hand. His bag, which was being displayed as a commodity, had a white piece of paper attached to it. On it, numbers were written in Juperian characters. Looking around, he saw similar white paper on every item at every stall. The stalls in this Loam District are in the form of an 'auction market'. Customers write pieces on blank white price tags, and the items are sold off to the customer with the highest bid within a specified time. Two customers had already written the piece on Nitta's bag.
"The evening... that means our departure from here will be six hours later than scheduled!"
Shimon is astonished. She could not afford to be stranded in such a place for a long time as she was in a hurry to get on her way.
"This is stolen property! Please, please give it back!"
Nitta pleaded for the bag to be returned somehow. Whether or not his plea was conveyed, the owner made another proposal.
"...If you insist, negotiate directly with seller."
"The seller?"
"Yeah, he's in here, the guy sitting at the far end, his name is Rourke."
The owner then pointed to the door of the building behind the stall.
"If the seller says it's okay, I can take it home?"
"Yeah, I don't mind..."
The owner of the stall nodded in agreement with Nitta's reminder. At the owner's prompting, Nitta, Shimon, Nomura, Capilla, and Nina entered the building. They did not notice that the owner of the stall, who was watching them, had a smirk on his face.
Inside the building
Inside, which was dimly lit even in the morning, there were about five tables in a row. There was no sign, but it was probably a restaurant. Five shady-looking men were sitting at each of the tables, but the 5, including Nitta, followed the stall owner's words and went to the man sitting at the far end of the table. He spoke to him.
"Are you Rourke who stole my bag?"
Nitta spoke to the young man puffing on a cigarette. But he gave no answer.
"That strange bag out front is the one stolen from me. I'm not saying you stole it, but... can you give it back to me peacefully?"
Nitta quickly cut to the case. Here the man finally opened his mouth.
"I see... that was unfortunate. Well, I'll give it back to you, but it's not free."
"...How much do you want?"
He was originally prepared to be asked for money. Nitta asked him how much he was demanding.
"No, I don't need money..."
"...?"
Nitta nodded, unable to understand Rourke's true intention of not wanting money. He pushed the cigarette he was smoking onto the table and offered an alternative.
"In exchange, why don't we make a bet? If I win, I'll give it back."
"Bet...!? What if I lose?"
Nitta and the others are surprised by the unexpected proposal Rourke presented. Since they were making a wager, it was only logical that if they lost, they would have to pay something. Nitta asked what his purpose was.
"...Well, how about you give us what that gentleman behind you has on his hip?" Rourke said, pointing to a 9 mm pistol for self-defense that Nomura was carrying.
"Wha—you've got to be kidding me! ...Enough, I guess there's no room for negotiation!"
Nitta is outraged to hear Rourke's words. There is no way the SDF can gamble with the weapons they own. Realizing that negotiations are futile, Nitta turned and stomped to the door to leave. The other four men followed him out of the building. Rourke stopped them.
"Oops! Are you sure? If you take it without permission, the thief will be you, right? Do you want the headline saying Japanese diplomat stole from market to appear in today's evening newspaper?"
Whatever the circumstances, Rourke had ownership of Nitta's bag and its contents. In the absence of any solid evidence that the bag and its contents belonged to Nitta, they were in a weak position. Nitta stopped and looked back at Rourke.
"...You think you can threaten me with that? No, how do you know we are diplomats!?"
"...!"
He was about to say something back when Nitta noticed something off in Rourke's words and actions. Rourke's expression said, "crap". Then he suddenly stood up and his expression changed.
"Guess there's no choice... I don't want to be rough with you, but..."
As he spoke, he sent some kind of hand signal. Immediately after, the men seated at the other tables suddenly stood up and surrounded Nitta and the others.
"W-what's the meaning of this!"
"!"
Nomura, holding the pistol, shouted at the men who suddenly moved suspiciously. Imperial Guard Capilla was also in a fighting stance with his hand on the sword at his waist.
"You guys are going to have to win the bet to get out of here."
"Huh!? Stop screwing around!"
Rourke was still obsessed with the "bet" for some reason. Nitta, not understanding why, yelled at him.
"Kyaa!"
At that moment, Nina suddenly screamed. She turned around to see that she has been grabbed by two of the men surrounding her and taken hostage.
"Shi—!"
Nomura rushed to separate Nina from the two thugs, but is unable to take any further action in the face of the knife blade against Nina's neck. The same was true for Capilla. As they stood still, a man approaches from the side. He reached from the pistol in Nomura's hand and snatched it from him with an unconcerned expression on his face.
"Grr..."
The two men, who have no choice but to be at the other's mercy in front of the hostages, their face contorted in frustration. The man who took the gun handed it to Nitta.
"..."
"So? Have you made up your mind to make the bet? If you say no, I can't guarantee what happens to that little girl..."
Rourke threatened Nitta with Nina's life as a hostage. Looking behind, he saw the girl about to cry at the knifepoint.
"...Fine, I'll bet you this gun on it, as you wish."
"Good!"
Nitta was ready to accept his demand, regretting that he had put the girl and his colleagues in danger through his own misconduct. Upon hearing his answer, Rourke snapped his fingers and called one of his men. The man handed Rourke a deck of cards that looked like trading cards.
"Well, let's decide who wins on a 61."
"..."
He split the cards with a practiced hand, a crooked smile on his face.