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 - A night ablaze — at rock bottom, yet still not abandoning the gun
The smell of rusted iron hung in the night air.
Rock sat in the back seat of the armored van, clutching a crumpled family photo. His fingertips had gone white. The only thing he could feel with any clarity was the paper—soggy with sweat and tears.
The road back from Pier Three to the old quarter. Levy drove in silence through alleys with few streetlights. Every time she turned the wheel, the tires screamed against the cobblestones.
"...Hey."
Rock didn't look up.
"Hey. You listening?"
"...I'm listening."
His voice came out hoarse—hoarser than he'd expected.
Levy glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Her sharp amber eyes glinted in the dark. The tattoo running from her neck to her right elbow flashed for an instant in the headlights of an oncoming car.
"You've been staring at that photo since we left. Staring at it won't change a damn thing."
"...I know."
"If you know, put it away. It's creeping me out."
Rock shoved the photo into his breast pocket. His fingers were trembling.
They reached the entrance to the old quarter. The food stalls had gone dark, the streets empty. Somewhere far off—a single crack. Gunfire again. His body had stopped reacting to it by now.
"...Levy."
"What."
"I was bait, wasn't I."
Levy didn't answer. Her foot pressed a little harder on the accelerator.
"Balalaika's job was always about throwing me at Zhang's group. Omori knew it too. All of it. From the very start."
"...Kinda late for that, isn't it."
"Yeah. It's late."
Rock looked out the window. The shadows of abandoned buildings sank into the darkness.
"Even so, I... I went because Dutch told me to. Even knowing Balalaika would use me, I couldn't refuse. Because that was all I had left."
" Oh, what a noble spirit."
"...Sorry."
"Don't apologize. It pisses me off."
The van turned onto the street leading to Lagoon Traders' warehouse at the western edge of the old quarter.
And then—
Levy's hand moved from the steering wheel to her gun.
"...Get down."
"What?"
"I said get down!"
Rock threw himself flat on reflex.
An instant later, countless bullet holes spiderwebbed across the windshield. The ear-splitting rattle of automatic fire. The bulletproof glass cracked in a web pattern.
"Tch—!"
Levy wrenched the wheel hard. The armored van spun, scraping against the alley wall before shuddering to a stop.
"W-what's—"
"Shut up!"
Levy kicked the door open and drew her twin pistols. Israeli-made, 9mm. The silver slides caught the moonlight.
"Stay in the van. Got it?"
"B-but—"
"I said got it!"
Levy launched herself out of the vehicle.
The gunfire exploded in intensity.
Crack-crack-crack! — the light pop of her pistols. Levy's twin guns spat fire. Bullets tore through the darkness, and a scream rose from the far end of the alley.
"How many of them are there... Jesus."
Rock huddled inside the van. His heart pounded in his ears. Sweat slicked his palms.
(The Cleaners. Omori's private soldiers. Did they follow us? No—this is something else—)
Then he heard it. A different sound, from far away.
Whoooosh...
A low, gut-rattling roar.
Rock stuck his head out the window.
The direction of the Lagoon warehouse. The western edge of the old quarter. The sky was red.
(The warehouse—it's burning.)
"Levy! The warehouse!"
"I can see it!"
Levy finished off the enemies in the alley while glancing toward the warehouse. Flames licked at the night sky.
"Damn it—they got there first!"
She grabbed her radio.
"Dutch! Do you read me?! Dutch!"
Only static came back.
"Dutch! Answer me!"
Static.
"...Benny! Benny, you too! Someone answer!"
Static.
Levy's face went rigid in an instant.
"...We're going. You too. But don't leave my back. Got it?"
"Yes."
Rock bolted from the van. His legs shook. His knees threatened to buckle. But he ran.
The street leading to the warehouse was already a battlefield.
The Cleaners' men fired from the shadows of the alley. Black combat fatigues. Faces hidden behind balaclavas. Every burst from their assault rifles sent chunks of wall flying.
" You're all so damn annoying!"
Levy leaped.
She kicked off the wall, spun once in midair, and fired both guns at once. Crack, crack, crack, crack. Four shots. Four Cleaners dropped almost simultaneously.
" Huh. Guess they've got numbers if nothing else."
Rock ran desperately behind her. His breath came in ragged gasps. His lungs burned.
(The warehouse is burning. Where's Dutch? Where's Benny?)
They came out in front of the warehouse.
The heat hit his face like a slap.
The Lagoon Traders warehouse—that old two-story building—was engulfed in flames. Fire poured from the first-floor maintenance bay, black smoke billowing from the second-floor windows. The radio antenna on the roof had warped from the heat.
"Dutch! Benny!"
Levy shouted.
No answer.
Only the roar of the flames.
"...Benny."
Levy's voice trembled for the first time.
Rock looked toward the warehouse's back entrance.
A pile of rubble. And from beneath it—a thin arm, reaching out.
"Levy! Over there!"
Rock ran.
Beside the back door. Benny lay pinned beneath a collapsed wall.
"Benny! Benny, stay with me!"
His glasses were shattered, his face black with blood and soot. His slender body was twisted at an unnatural angle under the debris. Blood flowed from his stomach and legs.
"...Rock... that you?"
Benny's voice was a faint rasp.
"Don't talk. I'll get you out."
Rock grabbed the rubble. It was hot. It seared his fingertips. Still, he tried desperately to lift it.
"Ngh—!"
The rubble didn't budge.
"Levy! Help me!"
Levy ran over, and together they heaved at the debris.
"Nnngh—!"
With a grinding creak, the rubble shifted.
"Now! Pull him out!"
Rock dragged Benny's body free.
Benny's right leg was bent in a direction it should never go. Blood poured ceaselessly from the wound in his stomach.
"Benny, Benny! Open your eyes!"
"...Quit yellin'... let me rest a minute."
Benny smiled faintly.
" Idiot... if you sleep now, you'll die."
Levy's voice trembled again.
"Where's... Dutch?"
Rock and Levy looked at each other.
"...We haven't found him yet."
"I see..."
Benny stared up at the sky. The sky, lit by flames, was stained red.
"...That bastard... went to save us again... didn't he."
"Don't talk. I'm getting you somewhere safe."
Rock tried to hoist Benny onto his back.
"Stop, Rock. ...Forget about me. Find Dutch."
"What are you saying?! I can't just leave you!"
" If you carry him, you'll both die. I'll do it. You go ahead and secure a safe place."
"But—"
"Don't 'but' me! You're useless for heavy lifting!"
Levy hoisted Benny onto her back with ease.
"Come on, we're going. There's a doctor I know behind the Passage black market. We run there."
"What about Dutch—"
"We'll look for him after. Saving this one comes first."
The three of them ran through the alleys, the burning warehouse at their backs.
Behind them, the warehouse roof caved in.
Whoooosh... CRASH!
Sparks scattered into the night sky.
When Rock looked back, the Lagoon Traders warehouse was nothing but a skeleton of charred beams.
(Our... our place to come home to.)
Rock bit his lip.
He tasted iron.
The back streets of the Passage black market.
Past an alley lined with old signboards, there was a small clinic. No sign out front. A padlock on the door.
"The doctor here charges through the nose, but he's good. I've been patched up here a few times."
Levy kicked the door open.
An older man peered out from inside. His white coat was yellowed, his eyes bloodshot.
"...Levy. You've brought me another mess, haven't you."
"Just look at him. Stomach and leg. He's in bad shape."
The doctor looked at Benny and grimaced.
"This is bad. Fifty-fifty whether he makes it."
"Save him. I'll pay."
"Yeah, yeah. Get him on the bed."
Benny was laid out on the examination table.
"Benny, hang in there. You're not dying on me yet."
"...Yeah... don't plan on it. If I die, who's gonna maintain that van?"
Benny laughed, spitting bloody saliva.
" ...That's right. Without you, that junk heap would break down in no time."
Levy placed her hand on Benny's forehead.
Rock stepped outside the clinic.
He slid down against the alley wall until he was sitting on the ground.
(Dutch. Benny. The warehouse. All of it—my fault.)
He buried his face in his knees.
He clenched his teeth. His molars ground together.
(Because I took Balalaika's job. Because I became the bait. Because I was weak.)
"...Rock."
He looked up.
Levy stood in the clinic doorway.
"What are you doing out here?"
"...Sorry. For being dead weight."
"If you know it, then be more useful."
Levy sat down next to Rock.
Silence, for a while.
Fire engine sirens in the distance. No—this city didn't have fire engines. Nor were those police cars chasing looters. Just distant noise.
"...You know."
"Yes."
"It's because you took Balalaika's offer."
Levy's voice was low, trembling.
"Because you went along with that woman's scheme. Because you played spy. Dutch, Benny, the warehouse—all of it, all of it—"
"...Yes."
"Because you're weak but you act tough, and you get all self-righteous like an idiot, and you stick your nose where it doesn't belong—"
"...Yes."
"Because you... you..."
Levy stopped.
Her shoulders were shaking.
"...I'm sorry."
Rock pressed his forehead to the ground.
"You think apologizing fixes anything?"
"I don't. But it's all I can do."
"...You really are an idiot."
Levy looked up at the sky.
The color of the flames reflected in the clouds.
"...You know, at first I really did think you were just a useless salaryman."
Rock listened in silence.
"But during the Garcia thing, you saw through the numbers' lie. That made me rethink you. ...Just a little. Only a little."
"..."
"And then, seeing you at the pier—caught by Omori, beaten to a pulp, and still clutching that photo and crying... it pissed me off."
"...Sorry."
"I told you to stop apologizing!"
Levy grabbed Rock's shoulder.
"You knew you'd been set up as bait, and you still came back to Lagoon. Clutching a photo, crying like a mess. ...That's what pisses me off about you."
Levy's amber eyes flickered, reflecting the flames.
" If you ever betray us, I'll kill you without mercy."
Her voice was shaking.
"...Yes."
"But if you go back to your family, I'll reload for you."
Rock couldn't say anything.
"...I won't abandon you. Dutch and Benny didn't abandon you. So I won't either."
Levy let go of Rock's shoulder.
"But if you pull the same stunt again, I'll shoot you for real this time. Both guns loaded, and I'll blow your head off."
"...Yes."
"One answer is enough."
"Yes."
"...Idiot."
Levy smiled faintly.
Her face looked like she was about to cry.
The night deepened.
Inside the clinic, the back-alley doctor kept working on Benny. The clink of metal, the smell of blood. Now and then, Benny's groans leaked out.
Rock sat against the alley wall, staring at the sky.
The color of the flames still hadn't faded.
"...Here. This is for you."
Levy held out a white envelope.
"What is it?"
"Found it in front of the warehouse. Addressed to you."
Nothing was written on the envelope.
Rock took it.
His hands were shaking.
He opened it.
Inside was a single document and a single photograph.
The photo showed a house in Japan.
In the garden, three people.
Father. Mother. Older brother.
Rock's family.
All of them smiling.
On the back of the photo, scrawled in ballpoint pen:
'Return to Asahi Heavy Industries, and these three will be safe. If you don't, this photo will be your eulogy. —Omori'
The document was a dry, bureaucratic guarantee of his family's safety, conditional on his return to Asahi Heavy.
And then another sheet of paper.
On it, in meticulous detail, was recorded exactly how his family had sold Rock out to the company as a "nuisance."
How his father, knowing Rock had been abducted, had told the
Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.