BLACK LAGOON: Rock's Choice - The Spider's Web of Roanapur
Okajima Rokurou had a future. A salaryman's future—steady, predictable, safe. Then Asahi Heavy Industries handed him a classified disk and a one-way ticket to Southeast Asia, and his superiors made one thing perfectly clear: *"You never existed. Not from the start."*
Erased. No passport. No family registry. No name.
He wakes in a warehouse in Roanapur—a sun-scorched city of cutthroats and contraband that appears on no map, where the only law is the balance of power between Hotel Moscow, the Tr
BLACK LAGOON: Rock's Choice - The Spider's Web of Roanapur - The woman with two guns and the salaryman who reads numbers
Morning light filtered into the Lagoon Company's warehouse.
Dust motes drifted white through the air along the steel beams. From the maintenance bay on the first floor came the sound of Benny tinkering with something—a steady, rhythmic clink, clink.
Okajima Rokurou—no, Rock—woke in the living space on the second floor.
He lay there a while, staring up at the ceiling, a thin blanket wrapped around him on the hard floor. He remembered the darkness of the city he'd seen through the window last night. Gunshots. The smell of the tide. And Dutch's words.
(I'm going to survive in this city.)
That's what he'd decided. But come morning, that resolve felt a little farther away.
He sat up. His white dress shirt was the same one from yesterday, steeped in sweat and the smell of rust. He retied his black necktie and ran a hand through his neatly parted black hair. His fingertip brushed the small old scar above his left eyebrow.
"You're up."
A low voice came from the first floor.
When Rock descended the stairs, Dutch was sitting at the office desk. A bald, powerfully built man wearing goggle-style sunglasses. The boss of the Lagoon Company. A steaming mug in his hand. The smell of coffee mingled with the scent of oil and iron.
"Good morning, Dutch."
"Yeah. Let's talk about today's job."
Dutch set down his mug and turned toward Rock.
"Now that we've decided to take Balalaika's job, we need to prepare. First, we gather intel. There's an arms dealer named Garcia in the old town. He's got connections to Zhang's group's dealings too. Get the date and location of the transaction out of him."
"An arms dealer, sir?"
"That's right. His hideout's near the Passage black market. Fronts as an old warehouse. Two guards stationed there at all times."
Rock organized the information in his head.
(In other words, as a preliminary step to Balalaika's job, we grab intel on Zhang's group's transaction. To do that, we squeeze it out of a man named Garcia.)
"Understood. So how should I proceed?"
"I'm not sending you alone. Take Levy with you."
"Levy, sir?"
"Yeah. She handles the rough stuff. You handle the brains. Split the roles however works best."
Rock went quiet for a moment.
Levy. Yesterday, Dutch had only mentioned her name. Said she was the best gunman in the city. Also said she had a foul mouth.
"...Understood."
"Levy's already downstairs. Go introduce yourself."
When Rock looked toward the maintenance bay, a woman was standing there.
A black tank top and short hot pants. Black hair tied back in a ponytail, the ends flicking up slightly. Sharp amber eyes glared at Rock. A tribal tattoo crawled from the nape of her neck down to her right elbow.
And she was chewing gum. Noisily, with a steady smack-smack.
"Well now. So you're the new guy?"
Levy's voice was lower than he'd expected, a little raspy.
"I'm Okajima Rokurou. Please call me Rock."
"Huh."
Levy let her gaze crawl slowly from the top of Rock's head down to his feet.
" You planning to go out dressed like that? White shirt and a necktie? You heading to a job interview on a battlefield or something?"
"This is... more or less my work uniform."
" Work uniform! That's a good one. Fine, whatever. Don't blame me if you die."
Levy laughed. But her eyes weren't laughing at all.
Rock thought to himself.
(This person really has no hesitation about killing people.)
The air felt a little colder.
The back alleys of the old town were dim even in broad daylight.
Abandoned buildings crowded the cobblestone lanes. Structures that had survived the great fire eight years ago had been illegally expanded and modified into a maze. Countless graffiti covered the walls. From the drainage ditches rose the smell of rotting fruit mixed with oil.
Rock walked half a step behind Levy.
She moved through the narrow alleys with unhesitating steps. Now and then, as they passed a stall, the smoke of skewers stung his nose. The vendors would catch sight of Levy's face and quickly look away.
(So Levy's famous in this city.)
That's how it felt to Rock.
"Hey, you."
Levy spoke without turning around.
"Yes?"
"Dutch told me. You used to be a salaryman? At Asahi Heavy Industries?"
"...Yeah, something like that."
"Why'd you stay in this city? Just because your company threw you away doesn't mean you have to come to a place like this to die."
Rock thought for a moment.
"The biggest reason is that I have nowhere to go back to. Also, there's something I need to see with my own eyes."
"Something to see?"
"What Asahi Heavy Industries is doing in this city. Until I see that through, I can't make sense of things inside my own head."
Levy snorted.
" Make sense of things, huh. You planning to live by salaryman logic even after coming to this city? You're a riot."
"Maybe you're right."
Rock smiled wryly.
(I can't deny it. But for now, that's fine.)
Eventually, the two of them arrived in front of an old warehouse.
"That's Garcia's hideout. Should be two guards."
Where Levy jerked her chin, there was a warehouse with an iron door half-closed. Two men with guns stood in front of the entrance. Southeast Asian features—one was young. The other had a large scar across his face.
"What's the plan? We talk it out—"
Before Rock could finish, Levy was already walking.
And then she drew two handguns from the holsters at her hips.
Silver slides glinted in the dim alley. The barrels were longer than normal. Ivory grips bore an emblem of a skull and two crossed swords.
"Hey, wait a second! Let's talk this out—"
Rock's voice was drowned out by gunfire.
Bang, bang.
Two dry cracks.
The two guards crumpled to the ground without even understanding what had happened.
One was shot clean through the forehead; the other was spraying blood from his neck. The younger man's fingertips were still twitching.
Rock stood frozen in place.
(What just happened?)
His mind understood. But his body couldn't keep up. Something was rising from the pit of his stomach. He was going to be sick.
" What're you doing? Let's go."
Levy didn't even look back as she kicked open the warehouse's iron door.
A heavy clang of twisting metal.
Rock forced his legs to move.
"Levy, what the hell did you just—!"
" I don't know anyone in this city who'll listen to reason. You just got here yesterday, right? Then watch closely. This is how things work in Roanapur."
Inside the warehouse it was dim, smelling of gunpowder and sweat.
Wooden crates were stacked high, and weapon racks lined the walls. Several AK-style rifles stood in a row.
Then three men came bursting out from the back.
"Intruders!"
The men raised their guns.
But Levy was faster.
She leaped lightly. As if gravity didn't exist, she kicked off a nearby crate and ran up the wall.
The men's bullets passed uselessly through the space where she'd been.
Bang, bang, bang.
Levy's twin handguns spat fire.
Two shots into the first man's chest. One into the second man's throat. Three into the back of the third as he screamed and tried to flee.
Every one of them was shot precisely through a vital point.
Rock watched from behind cover.
(This is Levy.)
(This is the reality of this city.)
Her movements had not a single wasted motion. The two handguns moved as if they were part of her body. Dodging enemy fire while precisely finishing each opponent.
Her form was terrifyingly beautiful.
And terrifyingly cruel.
" Ahaha! Come on, come on, who's next?"
Levy was laughing.
In the midst of carnage, she was utterly alive.
Listening to that laughter, Rock felt cold sweat running down his back.
(So this is who I'll be working with from now on.)
(Can I keep up?)
The gunfire stopped.
Silence returned to the warehouse.
The smell of gunsmoke. The fallen men. The smell of blood.
Levy advanced into the back room, both guns still raised. Rock followed on trembling legs.
The back room held a large desk and a leather chair. A luxurious-looking carpet hung on the wall. Furnishings far too extravagant for the setting.
And a man sat in the chair.
Fifties, maybe. Gray-streaked hair slicked back, wearing a gaudily patterned shirt. A thick gold chain around his neck. Paunchy, and sweating.
Garcia.
"W-wait! Let's talk!"
Garcia raised both hands. His fingers were trembling.
"Talk? What's there to talk about now?"
Levy aimed her muzzle at Garcia's forehead.
" I'll pay! I'll pay anything! Just spare my life—"
" It's not money I want. It's information."
"Information...?"
Rock stepped forward.
"You're Garcia, correct?"
Rock's voice was calmer than he'd expected.
"W-who the hell are you?"
"I'm with the Lagoon Company. I've come today to ask you a few things about Zhang's group's transaction."
Garcia's eyes darted around.
"Zhang's transaction... who the hell are you people?"
"Just couriers. But right now we're working on someone's request."
"Someone... don't tell me, Hotel Moscow?"
Rock didn't answer.
That was the loudest answer of all.
The blood drained from Garcia's face.
" I-I don't know anything. Really. Zhang's dealings have nothing to do with me."
"But you're involved in supplying weapons to Zhang's group. Isn't that right?"
"Th-that's..."
Levy fired a shot into the air beside Garcia's ear.
Bang!
Garcia screamed and tumbled out of his chair.
" Next one hits. Start talking."
" O-okay! I'll talk! I'll talk!"
Garcia, still sprawled on the floor, spoke in a shaking voice.
"Zhang's transaction is... this weekend. The location is the warehouse district at Pier Three. That's all I know."
"And the price for the information?"
"P-price?"
"You planning to talk for free? Information is merchandise in this city. How about five thousand dollars?"
"Y-yeah, five thousand... that's fine. No, that's too cheap, even."
Garcia nodded desperately.
But Rock felt something was off.
(The weekend? Really?)
Something didn't sit right.
Rock replayed Garcia's words in his head.
"Hold on. So the transaction is this weekend?"
"Y-yeah. Saturday night."
"But you said something earlier, didn't you? 'Tomorrow night I'm busy.'"
Garcia's movements stopped for an instant.
"Wh-what are you talking about?"
"When we arrived, you were talking to someone on the phone. You said, 'Tomorrow night I'm busy. I can't get out of it.' I could hear you."
Rock's ears had definitely caught those words.
Just before they entered the warehouse. When Levy shot the first two men, a voice had leaked from the back room.
"Tomorrow night I'm moving on that matter, so I can't schedule anything else."
That had been Garcia's voice.
"Th-that was something else."
"Something else? Then what was it? If Zhang's group's weapons delivery is this weekend, what's happening tomorrow night?"
"Th-that's..."
Sweat beaded on Garcia's forehead.
Rock continued.
"In other words, you're lying. Zhang's transaction isn't this weekend. It's tomorrow night. Isn't that right?"
"N-no! It's the weekend! Saturday night!"
"Then explain tomorrow night's business. If it's not connected to Zhang's group, who are you meeting?"
Garcia's mouth opened and closed wordlessly.
Levy grinned.
" Well, well. I hate liars, you know."
Levy stomped on the back of Garcia's hand.
Crunch.
The sound of bone shattering.
"GYAAAAAAH!!"
Garcia screamed.
" What should I break next? A finger? An arm? Or shall I strangle you with that gold necklace of yours?"
" I'll talk! I'll tell the truth! The transaction is tomorrow night! Warehouse Seven at Pier Three! That's right!"
"Who's attending?"
"Zhang's aide and some people from a Japanese company! I don't know their names! I swear!"
"A Japanese company... Asahi Heavy Industries?"
"Y-yes! Asahi Heavy Industries! Those people are doing some kind of deal with Zhang! I don't know the details!"
Rock felt a coldness deep in his chest.
(Asahi Heavy Industries.)
(So that company really is involved.)
"Anything else you know?"
"Nothing! There's nothing else
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