2-26 Bunny Ears
I stepped forward with my left foot, adopting a half-body stance as I raised my wooden sword.
My opponent stood motionless, thrusting both swords forward in a guard position.
No matter how I swung, I had a feeling it'd all get parried. This must be what they mean by no openings, I thought admiringly, regulating my breathing before forcing my way in and swinging anyway.
Sure enough, my sword was caught, deflected, and his riposte stopped dead an inch from my throat.
The spot was one corner of the monster hunter guild's training grounds.
That morning, when I stopped by the guild, someone with free hands invited me to a mock battle.
He was a monster hunter too, and since it made for good warm-up, he wouldn't charge me.
I jumped at the offer... but damn, the skill gap was a bit too wide. Sorry about that. Was he someone's sparring partner?
His unique style featured a normal-sized wooden sword and two small ones. Dual-wielding, of all things. Cool as hell.
Apparently, it's called the dual-sword style here.
He greeted me curtly with, "Please treat me well..." and I figured he was the silent swordsman type. But nope.
When I asked about dual-sword style during break time out of curiosity, he chatted away pretty fluently. His expression stayed blank the whole time, which was kinda creepy. Once break ended and we resumed sparring, the air shifted—he turned into this master swordsman vibe.
That's just how he is, I guess.
According to him, the basic tactic is defending with the smaller sword while attacking with your dominant-hand sword.
In real combat, the small sword isn't a straight blade—it's got protrusions like what we'd call a sword-breaker back on Earth.
Though actually breaking the opponent's weapon is rare.
You catch or hook their weapon with the protrusions to restrict movement, then counter with the other sword.
There are weaknesses too—like against arrows or polearms, since you can't block with flat surfaces easily.
Even against other swordsmen, this world's fighters launch skill-based slashes, so defending with the small sword is tough.
But on the flip side, it has solid matchup advantages... exactly like against a straightforward guy like me right now.
It felt more like a PvP technique than something for monster hunting, so I wondered if it was practical. But he said another big plus makes up for it.
Skills that channel through swords—like the Swordsman job skills—can activate via the defensive sword too.
That lets you pull tricky plays, like sudden slashes from the "defensive" small sword.
You can chain or combo skills between the two swords for overwhelming power when needed.
So this world's dual-sword style isn't just defensively strong—it's got real dreams to it.
Stick with dual-swords long enough, and you pick up bad habits like avoiding direct clashes and snagging enemy weapons at openings.
A simple swing like mine is a feast for them.
In the end, until his mission time came, I got toyed with—blocked, rolled, struck, the works. If we'd had more time, I wanted to test if body enhancement magic or self-cast Air Pressure could let me hang with a superior fighter.
Next time, maybe.
Mock battle over, I headed to a private guild room for the intel I'd scheduled.
"This is the spot, yeah~?"
The bunny-eared guild staffer who'd helped me at reception yesterday finished her explanation with documents in hand. Her name was Illitera.
The local info from Illitera overlapped a lot with what I'd dug up in Cross Point.
But better safe than sorry, so I listened quietly as review. And now, the main event.
"Now, about Saza Mountain monsters in detail, right~?"
"Yeah."
"First off, what route are you planning~?"
"Preferably the easy one. If not... the road to Cross Point looks convenient, so south side maybe."
"Gotcha~... Difficulty's about the same either way. South's a tad easier, so you're good there~?"
"Hmm."
"So, take the road east, then north to climb the standard southwest route on Saza Mountain."
"Sounds good."
"Okay~... First heads-up: watch the plants~."
"Plants?"
"Saza's a monster nest. Think like the northeast grasslands and you'll get ambushed outta nowhere—super dangerous~. Especially 'cause newbies often get hurt by plants that turn out to be monsters~."
"Got it..."
"Shouldn't be too hard if you're careful~. Good luck! Saza monsters are mostly beast-types and reptile-types~."
"Naming's vague as hell."
"Beast-type just means monsters named ending in 'Beast.' Usually four-legged, not based on real animals. Reptile-type's lizard-like stuff~. Dragons count broadly too, yeah~?"
"Dragons, huh..."
"Yep. Saza's got dragonkin—not super threatening, but don't slack off~."
"I've skimmed the docs, but compared to something like a hot rock bear, how dangerous are Saza's dragons rated?"
My benchmark's stuck on the hot rock bear—my first real tough foe in the Teba region. Anything stronger, and my current party's stable hunt would be dicey.
"Hot rock bear... yeah. Saza's got tons stronger than that, especially mid-layers up. On dragons... hmm~."
"..."
"The ones that come south a lot are two-horned bipedal dragons. Warriors who can solo hot rock bears steadily are told to team up for these~."
"That's insanely strong."
Worthily draconic. Though the monster guide pic looked more dinosaur—T-rex vibes—than dragon.
"Of course~. It's a dragon. Only weak ones are birdlet dragons~."
"Birdlet dragon? What's that?"
"Er, not technically a dragon. Looks like a tiny dragon—kinda cute~."
"Cute, huh."
I'd forgotten since it wasn't much threat. Sarsa probably remembered.
"Likely encounters include rock-ground dragons—low-tier dragonkin. Slow movers, so depending on your style, maybe even weaker than hot rock bears. About even~?"
"Hmm... starting to not wanna go to Saza anymore."
Maybe I'd underestimated it hearing tons of hunters were headed there.
A mountain crawling with hot rock bear-level stuff...
"Come on~, the southwest foothills have a camp near the Teba Warrior Squad base. Stick around there and you might be safe... maybe~?"
"Eh, yeah. Pathetic, but that's the plan."
"How 'bout recruiting a party? Saza's got tons posting for members. Beef up your forces~."
"Party recruitment, huh. Right, one of the guild's big sells. Never tried it."
"Yep~. Dream service only possible 'cause monster hunters swarm everywhere here!"
"Merc guild does that too."
"Not like random merc fillers~. Try it and you'll see the demand~."
"Huh... yeah, I'll think on it."
I'm a bit spooked by the enemy strength. Hope I find someone who vibes well.
"Please do~. Anyway, those dragonkin I mentioned, Pieta, Angry Beast—check paid sighting and subjugation records too~."
"Got it. Those then."
Unlike hot rock bears, you can't always skirt territories to avoid 'em. But knowing sighting contexts lets you pick low-prob spots. I'd check more pre-departure, but for planning, time to grab info.
"Alrighty~, I'll fetch subjugation records. Read these while ya wait~."
"Roger."
I'd already started skimming when she said that, so I mumbled and kept going.
Overall impression: lots of powerhouses. No tank hurts.
Plug with splash damage... or party up after all.
Hmm~.
Sarsa's got monster weaknesses memorized, so I focused on sightings, copying to my straw paper.
Copy-banned docs had bunny-ear checks.
Skim, copy permitted stuff, pass to Sarsa—few hours of that.
Midway, bunny-ears... Illitera went back to work, just peeking occasionally.
Tempting to sneak copy-banned stuff, but nah. Won't beef with a royal-backed org over dumb shit.
Breaks included, wrapped today's intel haul.
"Impressive dedication to research~. Come anytime for more~."
"Yeah, thanks for all the help."
Resisting the urge to pet those floppy bunny ears bouncing overhead, I bid Illitera farewell and left the guild.
It was already evening. What's next?
Research and copying wore me out mentally; no grinding today.
Then it hit me—find a tavern without a gloomy vibe and chill.
"Welcome."
The droopy dog-eared dandy behind the counter greeted us. Beast ears are wasted on an old dude.
Sarsa and I took empty counter stools. Few table seats free, but I wanted to pump the barkeep anyway.
"Hey, old man, know a guy called 'Undefeated Ramza'?"
"Hm? Order drinks first."
"Right, sorry. Original ale for me. Sarsa?"
"I'll have... fruit juice, if you have it?"
"Got it. No booze?"
"No, thank you."
"Comin' up."
The dog-eared barkeep whipped up drinks quick and set 'em down.
"So. Looking for someone? Name again?"
"Undefeated Ramza."
"Ah, Ramza. Yeah, I know him."
"For real?"
"Brother, info's a trade."
"Ah... right."
I pulled a silver coin, swapping it for the ale.
"Thanks. Ramza the Undefeated's a decently famous monster hunter. Ex, maybe?"
"Was famous, huh."
"Kinda. Skills solid, but it's the looks."
"Looks?"
"Huge. Stands out. You hunting blind?"
"Referral. Not make-or-break, but worth a shot."
"Fair. Retired now, dabbling in info brokering and coaching newbies, I hear."
"Coaching? Selling his vet skills?"
The barkeep lit a cigar—flame sparked at the tip with a gesture, smoke curling up.
Super hard-boiled. Dog ears notwithstanding. Dog ears, man.
"Dunno details, but yeah. Escort gigs too."
"Teaching while guarding rookies, huh."
"Bingo... phoo~"
He plucked the cigar, puffing clouds. Dog ears swaying.
Tech instructor and newbie escorts... perfect fit maybe?
"Where to find him?"
"Hm... his hangout? This place, top pick. Otherwise, no clue."
"Hmm. Looks besides huge?"
"Huge is the main thing. Phoo~ Bald, ripped as hell... that sorta."
"Sounds badass."
"Could be."
The dog-eared old man flashed a nihilistic grin.
Another silver as thanks, then out to the streets. Oh, the ale—strong fruit notes, tasty. Snacks might've hit too; solid joint.
Scanned for Ramza-lookalikes without entering shops, but nada that day. On to tomorrow.
Next day, slight oversleep—sun high, executive arrival to town.
Not guild first, though. Something else en route. Spotted yesterday scouting guild shops: a sign.
"Jill Ston's Slave Trading Company"
Glanced at the sign, pushed the door open.
"Hm? Customer?"
Sitting right inside: chainmail bro with a short spear.
Security, probably. Not outside, but interior guard.
"You do slave sales too? Not immediate, but considering purchase—mind if we chat?"
"Customer it is. One sec~."
Spear down, dashes to back.
Leaves weapon? Low training vibe.
"Sorry for the wait. I'm Yamana, sales for this company."
Out comes a surprisingly young woman.
Long black hair, glasses perched on nose. Serious type.
"Not buying today, but can I see your slaves?"
"Yes, anytime. Big purchase—needs careful selection for both sides' futures."
"Now then?"
"This way."
Followed Yamana through doors to a big hall.
Men and women lounging in chairs, reading books.
"This?"
"Slaves too. We let problem-free ones live normal-like, show customers their usual selves."
"Huh, smart."
"Staff or unsellables wear red scarves at neck. Blue means available today. No scarf? Ask me."
"Blue's go-sign. Hmm..."
Scanned around.
Movers/doers mostly red scarves—staff probably.
Idle readers: half blue scarves.
Purple ones?
"Purple...?"
"Provisional contract pending. Viable if your terms beat theirs."
"Like... auction?"
"Auction... close enough."
Hmm.
"Can you gather per my specs?"
"Yes, to that meeting room. Shall I?"
Easiest. But savoring the vibe's fun too.
"Problem-free ones live like this... but problem ones?"
"Judged problematic go to barred section in back. Reasons vary—not abuse."
"Yeah, figures."
No trust in a new firm, but serious girl's worried, so nod.
"Show me?"
"Yes. Some poorly trained—forgive any discomfort."
"Understood."
"This way..."
Followed deeper.
Iron-bar rooms screamed "slave pens."
Central path for staff/customers, barred cells left/right with assorted ages/genders.
Clean, no stench or filth. Toilets how?
"These just need more training. No real defiance—soon to normal rooms."
Pre-debut prep area.
Slaves noticed me, bowed lightly.
Ratio: men 6/women 4, 1 elder/3 middle-youth/6 young. Youth-heavy.
"...Onward?"
"Yes."
Quick scan, young women focus—no sparks. One red-skinned hunk stood out... but dude.
"Not defiant, but odd behaviors—hard to front."
"Huh."
After rooms, here. Few greetings; most sat wary.
Male-heavy, women older.
"Ah... ah."
Passing on this—next. Then a back-room guy gripped bars, lunging forward.
"What's up? Tymo?"
"Ah... y-you, buy me?!"
Hyperventilating blond youth, Nordic features.
"Calm down, Tymo. Sorry, sir. Term slave, but emotionally unstable—here for now."
"...Term slave?"
"Fixed liberation term. Often like him: no contract past deadline means no enslavement, just fees owed firm. Wants sale, but..."
"Issues?"
"Not major... but delusions? Rants nonsense, crashes hard—temp move."
"Hrm?"
That's basically "issues."
"N-not lies! I'm... from another world! For real!"
...Whoa?
Fellow isekai?
"No lies! Hire me, get ideas this world lacks! Advanced civ too!"
Bloodshot eyes screaming at me. Serious girl looked puzzled.
"Not demon lord cultist... no proof he's lying. Literate—decent talent?"
Pitching a bit. Sympathy for him maybe.
"Hmm... but I'm after combat slaves. Fought monsters?"
"M-monsters? No... damn, if I had my gun! Why couldn't I bring it?!"
Yup. Guns. Total transferrer. World has 'em sparse.
"Sorry, no office help needed... no fate, chalk it up."
"Shit! Stuck in debt... lifetime slave! Pointless?!"
Grumbling blond. Tough luck. If I had spare cash/time... maybe? Nah, headache city. Would skip regardless.
"Rest are bad actors or crime slaves... wanna see?"
"Crime slaves... nah, pass today."
Fellow kin sapped my drive.
Was gonna spec combat slaves, but retreating.
"Helpful. Back when ready."
"Anytime."
"Wasted your time—sorry."
"No worries."
Bid serious girl adieu, hit the street.
Trailing Sarsa peeked timidly at my face.
"Master, you okay? Seemed off..."
"Yeah, nah. Nothing."
"...I see."
White-hair kid said failed transfers abound. Spot on.
One slip and that'd be me. Money matters, fr.
...Belatedly.