1-25 Joysman

"Gii, gii, kyukyu!"

A slap to the face jolted my eyes open, and there was my guardian beast Don yapping about something. Breakfast, maybe?

I poured some of the feed I'd gotten from the shop onto a plate with a rough scrape. He let out a satisfied "kyu" and started munching it between his paws. His eating style was kinda hamster-like. Or maybe more squirrel? He didn't stuff it into cheek pouches—instead, he skillfully gripped the feed in both paws and nibbled from the end.

Hmm, pretty damn cute.

"Mm... Master?"

I nodded toward Don to get Sarsa's attention as she stirred awake, and we watched him together. Pets really do wonders for the soul.

"Well, can't lounge around forever..."

I had a bodyguard gig lined up for this afternoon. There happened to be a merchant caravan heading south, so I threw my hat in on a whim—and got in.

A bunch of merchants who knew each other had banded together, and it ballooned into something bigger than expected. Their original escorts weren't enough, so they'd been scouting for more.

I'd been planning to target smaller, solo merchants' niche needs, but joining a big group meant more safety.

Of course, that came with my least favorite things: socializing and teamwork.

Nothing to be done about it.

I left Sarsa to prep the under-armor while I checked over the weapons.

By today, my status looked like this.

This was the rear-guard setup. Switching in Mage really boosted my MP. Plus, every level in Mage adds about 1 MP. Handy.

But I didn't plan to use the magic gun much on this trip, so I'd switch to the magic swordsman build.

That'd make my status like this.

Attack goes up a rank, but magic drops hard. MP feels a bit low too. Still, keeping Magic Gunner active without using it would waste EXP, so I'd push Swordsman a bit more.

Lately, I'd been eyeing Warrior too. I'd unlocked it a while back, and I was learning that having Warrior EXP opened up a lot of branches.

From Sarsa, I knew pairing it with Archer gave Bow Warrior.

Probably Magic Warrior too, and Swordsman + Warrior might sprout something like Gladiator. Sounds strong.

Warrior was likely the base job for frontline fighters, like Mage for magic ones. No sharp edges, but it branched into specialized jobs.

For the future, maybe grind it to level 10 sometime. But first, Swordsman to 10.

Sarsa hadn't grown. Makes sense—no real archery combat lately, just spotting for my magic practice.

Last escort showed how clutch bows are, so she'd level ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up on this trip. Hopefully.

No point switching her back to Merchant now. Gotta push.

We finished changing and gear checks, then helped each other into the leather armor.

Yeah, this gets me in battle mode.

"What about the helmet?"

"I'll carry it for now. Put it on later."

Showing up with just a metal helmet on would spook people. Start friendly.

"Don in the bag? Or you hold him, Sarsa?"

"He'd be in the way. Better he sleeps in the bag."

Don was for night watch, but with a big group, not much call for him.

Healing vibes only.

"Myuu~"

Oh, he can do cute voices too, not just gravelly. I stashed the bulky stuff in subspace and made room. It'll jostle while walking, but oh well.

"Kyu."

Sarsa scooped up the limp Don like a cat and gently tucked him into the bag.

"Not cramped?"

"Gii gii."

Sleepy reply, but seemed fine. Peeked in—belly rising and falling with breaths. Closed it up.

Declare him a guardian beast on intro? Not much combat power...

"Master, any subspace room left?"

"Yeah, clothes and stuff took space, but a bit more fits."

"Then pack non-perishables from here. Meals matter."

True, we'd eaten out twice, but that white-haired kid got reports. Cram it full of food—he'd freak. Sounded fun, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I packed.

"Hello, is this Lord Dentor's carriage?"

"Hm? That getup—you a merc?"

Horses lined up at the inner gate to the eastern district. I hailed the guy at the end.

"Freelance merc Yoyo. Here for Lord Dentor's escort."

"Oh, right. Hold on."

The underling-looking guy checked with the busy crew.

"...Confirmed. You're on the first wagon—head to the one with purple cloth tied on and say hi."

"Got it."

Three wagons total, mostly cargo. Most folks walked, just drivers and some merchants riding.

Thought I'd ride again—nope.

"Well, if it ain't Yoyo. Who's the lady?"

The turbaned guy barking orders at the marked wagon was the client, Dentor.

"My slave. She shoots a bow, so she'll escort too."

"Nice—one price, two guards. Lucky break."

Dentor grinned wide.

"We got minimal rations. Hunt monsters en route if you can?"

"Sure. Depends on the sitch."

"Of course. Good game means meat. That's it."

"Yes sir."

While helping load, the other escorts arrived—intros flew fast.

"I'm Torus, exclusive guard. Spear, but bow too."

"Mara, same. Nice to meet ya."

Weapons mentioned or not, whatever. Swordsman works.

"Yoyo, freelance merc. Sword."

"Sarsa, his attendant. Bow."

We'd agreed: attendant to everyone but the client. Elliott griped about bad attitudes toward slaves. Just in case.

"Slave, right?"

Deep voice shattered that instantly. A fur-jacketed brute who'd shown up late. Trouble smell.

"..."

"Ignorin' me? We're a team, punk."

"And?"

"Heh, share her. After you's fine."

"No thanks. Sarsa's a proper combat slave with her bow. Keep it clean."

"Hah."

He sneered around at his grinning crew.

These are the types Elliott picks around.

"I'm Joysman. These are Nosehair, Butthair, and Crotchhair."

"Quit jokin', we ain't named that!"

They cracked up among themselves. Typical rowdy bunch. Me, the exclusives? Stone-faced.

"...Vulgar."

"Tch, slave actin' fancy. Bet you shake your ass for master daily. Or finish before? Too quick!"

Even tossed a joke I couldn't laugh at.

Wanna avoid these guys... but no choice.

They laughed crudely, then the rest intros boredly.

Joysman's crew: five total—Ranto, Savan, Dodo, Omuttashimoi. All plain humans, filthy furs. Reeked—no baths? Booze too; pub crawl hangover? Explained the vibe.

Port lights snare 'em. Annoying.

"Other two merchants, Martus and Shawn, bring guards. Total ~20, but we eight move as the team—remember."

Torus took charge naturally. Long-haired, clean metal armor, 30s spearman.

Veteran aura. Exclusive merchant guard's prime gig—skilled, stable. Merc dream.

"Slave... you watch from the wagon."

"Sarsa. Understood."

"Archers rear. Swords and spears front and flanks."

"Hey, slave gets easy ride?"

Joysman griped.

"Slave won't ditch with cargo. Plus lady—no funny business."

"Tch."

Keeping Joysman off her. Torus is solid. Note that.

"Me, Mara, Yoyo front. Joysman team, split flanks. Cool?"

"Yeah yeah, gotcha~."

No Joysman contact. Relief.

Dentor drove.

Solo merchants multitask.

Martus and Shawn's guards: two exclusives each, Martus's six hires. Wait...

"Shawn fought renewal with his merc group... We're covering."

Martus scowled. Shawn bowed apologetically.

Big scale, but contract snafu emergency hire.

"Let's roll."

Dentor led merchants, most guards. Wagons creaked off at his call. We matched pace. Just to south gate for now.

No monsters post-south gate. Warrior squads kept it safe.

"South's risky" meant "risky for here."

"Bored outta my skull."

Joysman whined. Paid idle beats work.

Day one: inn by dusk. Basic—water, wood for sale; tent your own bed.

Walking pace: two weeks to trade city south.

"Hey, pretty boy."

We borrowed a big ex-guard tent, setting up post-dinner. Joysman's young lackey—Omuttashimoi?—called out.

What now?

"..."

"Answer."

"...What? Preppin', obviously. Must be important."

"Serious talk, unlike daytime. Lend the girl."

I stared, baffled. No joke.

"Told ya no. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Not a joke. Don't lend."

"Selfish prick. Fuck that."

"Don't care. Want a slave? Buy your own."

"...Regret it."

Sigh. More hassle.

Inn had others—no lax watch. We took late shift, crashed early.

No Joysman mood-killer for cuddles. No magic practice. Blanket and sleep.

"Gii! Gyu!"

Don's cry, then weight slammed my gut. Eyes snapped open—tackle.

"Ow... What? Don, hungry?"

Tent flap flew open, torchlight blinded.

"Yo, pet too? Cocky much?"

"Don't look tough. Fine."

"Got his sword."

They piled in muttering. I bolted up, backed off. Sarsa grabbed by hair, surrounded.

Sword... yeah, tossed near entrance.

"Nice, swordsman. No blade, no threat."

"...What's the play?"

"Your fault, bad vibe."

Fur jacket, scruffy beard—Joysman.

"Not an answer. Let Sarsa go."

"Huh? Know your place? Shut up, hand her over—no kill. Stay low."

Beat us into line, then Sarsa. Got it.

"Situation clear. Lend Sarsa quietly, you let it slide?"

"Smart guy. And swear loyalty—day hurt my feelings."

Right.

"Confirm."

"Huh?"

"Sarsa's my slave, property. Hand her over or die?"

"What else? Dumbass!"

Dropped surrender hands, pulled magic gun from subspace. They froze, clueless.

Blasted Joysman's head. MP maxed, full burst close-range. Seasoned gun—no miss. Took out lackeys and Sarsa's guards.

"Wha—!"

Saw lackey heads pop; Joysman still talked. High magic def?

Tackled him full-body, snatched sword. Two more shots to torso.

Might live—smashed neck with sword hilt. Down—slammed repeatedly.

Slammed.

Kept slamming.

"B-Boss, somethin'—!?"

Flap opened—young guy from earlier. Lookout.

Quiet hung, then gunshots echoed.

Slashed necks thorough. Might live...

How to check? Right.

"Status, open."

Joysman only showed. Tough bastard.

Pried mouth, jammed gun in, unloaded. Head exploded—status gone.

"Alright... now what?"

Made a mess killing 'em.

They meant to kill me (if non-compliant)—self-defense.

Maybe bluff, but saying it outright? Fair game. Wanted Sarsa consent check, but outnumbered—no time to play cool. Instant kill optimal.

Half-assed survivors bad. Hear both sides? Trial maybe win, but risky. Revenge? No sleep. All-kill safest.

But solo-wiping teammate mercs? Dicey. Instant arrest possible. Need plan.

Sarsa stood stunned.

"Sarsa, you okay?"

"Y-Yes..."

Spooked look. Rape attempt + gore too much for young girl. Sorry.

"Don... dude's asleep. Legend."

Curled in corner, eyes shut. Hunkered? Looks asleep.

Sarsa giggled, tension eased. Animals rock.

"Sarsa, I'll clean—fetch someone outside?"

"Y-Yes."

Gore bad for her. Excuse to send out.

But footsteps—someone heard.

"What happened!?"

"This is..."

One unnamed intro guy, other Torus.

"Perfect timing. You... take her out."

To the name-unknown.

"Huh? But—"

"Explain to Torus. Don't wanna show her this. She's a girl."

"Anzo, it's fine. Take her, wake others."

"Right."

Anzo took Sarsa—Don too. Pet therapy. Do your job.

"What happened? You kill 'em?"

"Yeah, sleeping, they burst in."

"...Then?"

"Hand over Sarsa or die. Fought back."

"..."

"Outnumbered, no mercy. Sorry for escort impact."

"Decent merc group. Beat all five?"

"Overconfidence from numbers. Got first hit, momentum."

"...Fine. But wounds? Noises? You're swordsman. Magic gear?"

Excuses prepped. Time for one.

"Oh, didn't say? Sword, but Magic Swordsman."

"Magic Swordsman."

"Not rare? Power control sucks—drains MP fast, so rarely use."

"...I see."

"Five on one? One-shots or bust. Full power, but needed more—panicked."

Stared corpses-me, sighed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at no more.

"Got it. Truth later—clean bodies first."

"Their loot?"

"...What you think?"

"If victim me gets it, half to Dentor."

"Why?"

"He paid 'em. I wasted that—show good faith."

"..."

"Weird?"

"Other half?"

"Split with other guards."

"Us?"

"Yeah, five down hurts escort. Apology."

"You good?"

"If captured alive, sure. But my mess all-kill. Pass."

"Right."

Torus pondered, then called help for cleanup.

Offered to help—nah, rest. Joined Sarsa by fire, petted Don, watched traffic. Dentor and merchants came.

Stood, slight bow. Victim, but hassle—show humility. Dentor waved off.

"Heard rough outline. Tough break."

"No, but..."

"Future handling?"

"Yes."

"Slave and life threatened, fought back..."

Nodded; Sarsa jumped in.

"True! Truth judgment fine!"

"Hm, knew they were rough. Accepting judgment? No lie."

"Over-defense maybe, but baseless? No."

"Pursue here? No gain."

They nodded agreement.

"Those five? Monster chow."

"...Okay?"

"No report hassle. Heard you wanted their loot?"

"Yes. Like I broke your purchase."

Dentor nodded pleased, eyed others, spoke.

"Checked tents—shady gems."

"Oh?"

"Not gifts. Sketchy source maybe."

"Shameful."

"Is. Merchants like us cash 'em easy. Take 'em, non-cash/gems to guards?"

"No objection."

"You too, as guard."

"...Me?"

"Travel mates. No holding back."

Grinned—clicked. Cover ass: you're in too.

"Grateful."

Back to cleaned tent—bloodstains stuck. Won't wash. Compensate later? If asked.

Laid Sarsa clean spot, me on blood. Wired, no sleep. Quiet magic practice.

Dawn watch—unscheduled joins. Watch us shaky ones? Or monitor? Whatever, chatted vigilant.

Pre-depart: Torus stopped. Sorting Joysman loot.

"Cash no, but his sword?"

"That big one? No users—probably fine."

"Was gonna buy sword. Fits."

"Done."

My share: Joysman's greatsword. Not cartoon giant—long/heavy for sword. Like tachi.

Slight curve, more so.

Muscle up since isekai, stats too—handle fine. Polearms handy vs monsters, felt it.

So, the nail-biter wasn't NTR or bestiality—it was all-kill splatter.

Sorry if anticlimax.

Saw works flame over protag choices like this...

Reiterating: author sees protag as "kinda psycho."