Mercenary Eugene (2)
"Eugene. What if you just up and leave without a word?"
The innkeeper was blocking the road, flanked by four burly men armed with axes and spears. Rustling noises from the bushes on either side of the path suggested at least two more ambushes waiting. Fuck, this bastard knew everything. Me rolling around with his wife...
"Just one question."
"Ask away."
"You knew I was fucking your wife, so why'd you sit on it?"
"Ah, you wouldn't know. Maria was a whore to begin with. Six years ago, when I was a lonely old bachelor, I got too desperate and started living with her. But turns out she's still a whore. Even with a husband now, she spreads her legs for any guy she likes."
Ah... that explained why she'd been so easy.
"And my tastes are a bit... unique. I get excited watching her fuck other men—ahem. Shit, I've said too much pointless crap."
Out of nowhere, he drops this TMI bomb and stops, then makes a circle with his thumb and index finger toward me.
"But tastes aside, you can't just eat my wife's pussy without paying the extra fee and sneak off like this."
"Haa... so how much do you want?"
"Well, since Maria's a slut anyway, and I got some enjoyment watching... I'll take everything you're carrying right now. Sound fair? For your life, that's a bargain."
I didn't want to take unnecessary risks, so I'd planned to pay a reasonable price and call it even. But this fucker was demanding I hand over all my gear and walk away naked. No guarantee he'd let me live, either.
So I had only one choice left: settle it all right here and leave no loose ends.
The next moment, to lower their guard a bit and lighten my load, I set down my backpack. Then I pretended to unbuckle the belt loaded with weapons.
Watching my reaction, the innkeeper approached slowly with a sleazy grin.
"Good thinking. No matter how skilled you are, Eugene, you can't take all of us. Ganging up beats any pro, heh."
"You're awfully chatty."
"Huh? Now's not the time for—gurk..."
The pig shut up only after my dagger sank into his forehead mid-boast.
His body stiffened and toppled backward. I lunged forward, drawing my sword from my waist.
Then—
Shunk! I jammed the blade into the throat of the guy frozen by the sudden turn.
"Fuck! Kill him!"
The other three finally snapped to and swung their weapons at me.
Thwack!
"This fucker Max—"
I kicked the pierced-neck guy into the path of the one on my right, blocking him briefly.
Clang!
I parried the axe chopping at my head with the sword that naturally slid free from the guy's throat.
"Die, you bastard!"
Now a spiked club rushed at my side from the left. At the same time, I stepped wide with my right foot and twisted my body low.
Splat!
"Gaaah!"
"J-James—"
The club that should've crushed my ribs smashed into the axe guy's gut instead.
I exploited the gap, driving my sword into the eyes of the one who'd accidentally hit his buddy.
Squelch...
"Urk—glurk..."
I twisted my wrist, pulverizing the crushed eyeball and brain beyond.
Stab!
I yanked a dagger from my belt and plunged it into the nape of the last one toppling forward.
That made four dead, including the innkeeper.
One spearman left, his face a mess of terror and rage. Plus however many still hiding in the bushes.
Right after.
Already outnumbered, but better crush one side fast before it gets messier—
I sized it up quick and aimed to clear the spearman and the bushes beyond him first.
Twang! Whizz!
A heavy bowstring snapped, and a tiny dot ballooned dead-center in my vision.
"Ugh!"
I barely jerked my head aside before the black-fletched bolt kissed my face. A burning sting flared on my right cheek, something trickling down.
No time for petty pain. Praying nothing else flew from behind, I charged forward, counting seconds in my head.
Veterans took 7-8 seconds to reload a crossbow.
7... 6...
By the time I'd counted to 6 and 5 loomed, the gap to the spearman was about two meters—spear range.
"Eek!"
Terror plain on his face, he jabbed desperately first.
Predictably, the panicked thrust lacked power.
Slash!
I slapped aside the sloppy stab and carved open his exposed torso.
Momentum carried me straight into the bushes.
As the timer hit about one second left—
3... 2... Found you.
Behind a thick tree, a kid—not quite a man yet—still cranking the crossbow string.
Our eyes met moments later.
His trembled like aspen leaves, brimming with fear and desperate pleas for mercy.
It reminded me of that fuckup two days ago, the... whatever his name was.
But my sword arm didn't hesitate.
In this dark fantasy world, the moment you pick up a weapon, age and gender don't matter.
......
Searching the opposite bushes, I'd found the source of the noise.
Now, facing it, I felt my first conflict of the fight today.
"Whine...yip yip..."
"Haa... first time for something like this."
I'd cut down a teen without batting an eye moments ago.
But staring at this Doberman puppy—leashed to a tree, gnawing at its collar, still small and growing...
It was the opposite of killing the innkeeper's crew. I couldn't decide what to do with it.
The poor thing had wandered in clueless; killing it was absurd. But adopting it? A hassle in every way.
Just as unease creased my brow at the nagging doubt—
Rub rub... It sidled up to my leg, nuzzling its body against me and wagging its tail.
Ah, that's cheating...
......
I left the Doberman pup for now and returned to the corpse-strewn scene.
Sunlight filtered through branches, thinning the mist. Dawn had shifted to early morning.
Meaning more people might pass soon.
I had to clean up—or rather, stage—this fast, down to the second.
First, I rifled the bodies for valuables.
Then—
Thud! Thunk!
I covered my sword marks with axes and spears from the ground, shoving them into dead hands.
Twang! Thud!
Planted a few bolts too.
I dumped the kid's severed-head corpse and crossbow in a river far off the path.
Now the evidence painted it clear: the innkeeper and crew killed each other; the kid survived, fled to the river.
Ah, but it was self-defense—why go this far?
Simple: lords.
Those ruthless pricks pin crimes on outsiders in their domain, fabricate evidence, seize assets. Then ship you to labor camps or penal battalions till you drop.
Mercs like me? Prime targets. Decent coin, perfect cannon fodder.
Huh... makes me a walking golden goblin.
......
Soon as I finished, I ditched the bloody site and hiked briskly for an hour.
Trees thinned out, rolling hills of short grass taking over.
That's when it hit me: time to name the leash's owner dangling from my pack.
"From now on, you're Chun-sik."
Grrr...
I tossed out the joke name, and it froze, growling in protest.
"Kidding, pup. Cerberus is too much—how about Kell?"
Woof woof!
I tweaked the name of my old beagle from back home. It barked happily and resumed trotting, tail wagging like mad. Cute as hell.
Then, over the distant hill, black smoke billowed.
Not a campfire. Clear signs of a raid...
****
Meanwhile, at the same time.
The Turil Village guard captain arrived at the murder scene, nursing a hangover as he took his subordinate's report.
"Identities confirmed, sir. Innkeeper Louis and Max, plus local thugs."
"Huh? Louis? Why's that guy dead here with thug scum?"
"Witnesses say Louis met Max multiple times lately."
"Fine, whatever. Looks like they killed each other—right?"
"Yes. Wounds match their weapons. But..."
"But what?"
The captain snapped irritably at his lieutenant's suspicious tone.
His stomach churned from his first long talk since waking, but mostly the lieutenant's eager vibe grated.
The lieutenant flinched briefly but pressed on, known for his uprightness.
"Bolts in the bodies, but no crossbow here. Seems Johann—usual Max crew—survived alone. And mercenary Eugene's been gone since morning, so he's sus—"
"Enough!"
The lieutenant shut up at the bellow interrupting his solid deduction from scant info.
He sensed it: this lazy, corrupt pig would twist it for ease—or personal gain.
"Wild speculation! As guardians of peace and law, we judge on facts alone."
"..."
"Let me clarify since you're lost. Louis was blackmailed by Max's gang for some reason, dragged here and killed. Then the thugs fought among themselves; only Johann escaped. Clear, lieutenant?"
"...Yes, sir."
"Good. I'll seize their illegal assets before Johann bolts. You clean up and issue his warrant."
"Understood."
The lieutenant nodded reluctantly to his boss's scripted orders.
As the captain turned toward the village, his head swam with greed.
Hurry and raid Max's hideout for cash—funds for his mistress's birthday soon.