Repaying Kindness
That crazy son of a bitch!
The instant he saw the tip of the blade leveled at Harry, Jun could no longer simply stand by and watch.
He tore through the underbrush and charged straight at Frank.
“Yeah! That’s more like it!”
Jun’s eyes blazed a cold, furious blue. The moment Frank met that gaze head-on, his chest seized tight—but he forced the feeling down, plastering on a bright, delighted smile as he welcomed him.
He still did not withdraw the blade from Harry.
“Why the hell are your eyes so vicious?! Stop! And smile, you bastard!”
Frank jammed the trembling tip of his sword hard against Harry’s thigh, ready to drive it home at any second. He needed to freeze Jun in place and seize the high ground.
The other boy would know exactly why he was doing this—and still have no choice but to stop. For some reason, Jun cherished Harry, the dull, clumsy kid everyone else avoided like the plague.
And yet…
Thud-thud-thud!
“H-hey! S-stop, I said!”
Contrary to every expectation, Jun did not slow his charge. If anything, he poured on more speed.
Has rage driven him completely out of his mind or what?!
Good. Just as I planned.
Frank’s thoughts were wrong. Jun was perfectly lucid. His actions followed a calculated prediction: Frank would take Harry hostage and threaten him, but in the end he would never actually stab him.
The prediction could have been wrong, yet Jun was certain. The kid was still an inexperienced fourteen-year-old greenhorn. If he had truly been ready to stab Harry, the boy would already be bleeding from a sword wound.
Had Jun not appeared, Frank might have forced himself to thrust through the trembling just to provoke him. But now, with every nerve locked on Jun’s sudden arrival, he had no room left for that.
And even if he really did drive the blade into Harry’s thigh, once the fight was over Jun could simply heal the wound and offer a heartfelt apology. It would hurt, but it was still far better than letting the bastard trample them one-sidedly.
“You fucking bastard!”
The moment Jun closed to point-blank range, Frank hastily swept his sword upward in a diagonal slash from Harry’s thigh.
It was a clumsy, hesitant cut—so pathetic that the fists Frank usually swung with ease would have been more threatening.
Inside the slowed world of the Activation he had cast before leaving the bushes, Jun trusted Fortuna’s buff and lightly set his fist against the flat of the blade.
The instant steel kissed skin, he snapped power into his fist and knocked the sword skyward.
Frank’s blade floated upward with absurd ease, leaving his belly wide open.
When you can’t have pheasant, chicken will do. Instead of a clean punch to the face, Jun decided to gift Frank a solid shot to the gut.
Thud! Kuoook!
Frank let out a bizarre, almost blissful groan and stumbled backward as if he had received more than enough.
Jun still had plenty of gifts left to give; there was no need for the guy to refuse so stubbornly. He moved to stick close and keep delivering them—only for the twins to step in, jealous, as if demanding the presents for themselves instead.
“Stop right there!”
The older twin raised the shield in his hands and charged.
It was another pitiful shield bash.
“Hup!”
Jun expelled the air from his lungs; the lighter, more flexible body that followed spun half a turn in a flash.
The older twin barely scraped past him. The instant the boy’s temple lined up perfectly in front of him, Jun flicked two light jabs from loosely clenched fists.
Fists that shot out like lightning hammered the side of the twin’s head in rapid succession.
“Guh!”
Crash!
The shock must have reached the semicircular canals; the older twin lost all balance and toppled forward in the same direction he had been charging.
Jun looked down at him with empty eyes, then turned toward the younger twin, who stood trembling with a crossbow leveled.
“D-don’t come any closer! I’ll shoot!”
Step.
Jun ignored the warning and took one deliberate pace forward.
A sharp twang sounded as the loaded bolt flew. Spatial sense had already told him exactly where the crossbow was aimed; a tiny twist of his torso was enough to let the bolt sail harmlessly past.
He gave the younger twin an equally fair punch, then stared at the situation that had ended so ridiculously fast and easily despite all the tension, feeling faintly absurd.
But Fortuna’s expression remained deadly serious. Jun hurried over to Harry, still sprawled on the ground. Once he secured the boy, he planned to get them both out of here at once.
“Harry, you okay?”
“J-Jun… ··gerous…”
“What? What did you say?”
“It’s still dangerous!”
“Jun! Behind you!”
The instant Harry and Fortuna shouted, a chill raced down the back of Jun’s neck. He scooped Harry up and rolled sideways.
Thud! Thud!
Bolts from somewhere slammed into the spot where he and Harry had just been, quivering as if disappointed they had missed.
“Hey, you can’t even hit a stationary target. How the hell do you expect to make it as a mercenary like that, huh?”
“Tch. The kid’s just fast. Not my fault.”
Two solidly built men pushed out of the underbrush. Their gear was crude yet practical and thoroughly prepared—unmistakably the look of real mercenaries.
Between them stood the fat kid who had left for Lemumni a week earlier with the imprisoned village chief.
Jun let out a hollow laugh of pure disbelief and asked,
“I was wondering where those brats got their weapons. You gave them to them, Fatty?”
“Yeah. They begged me to let them in on it. Not that they were worth the price in the end. Orphans are always useless, I swear.”
“You don’t look all that useful yourself. More of a hindrance, if anything. Be honest—you showed up later than them because you’re just that slow climbing a mountain, right?”
“Shut up! That’s not it! There was a reason for everything!”
Fatty screeched and threw a full-blown tantrum. The sight was so repulsive that Jun looked away and studied the two mercenaries instead.
Faint traces of aura radiated from both men. This was going to be a hard fight.
Noticing Jun’s appraisal, Fatty’s face split into a greasy, triumphant smile.
“Heh heh. I told you, didn’t I? Just wait—you’ll regret it. Today’s the day.”
“You’re really something. All this over one punch to the gut.”
“It’s not just that! You framed my dad! I know everything!”
“Framed? I just uncovered the crimes he already committed.”
“Don’t lie! My dad would never do that!”
“Think for a second, idiot. If he really hadn’t done it, he’d already be free.”
Jun shoved the facts right under Fatty’s nose, but the boy only sprayed spit and kept denying reality. Jun kept feeding him more facts anyway—anything to buy a little more recovery time.
The mercenaries watching, however, refused to play along. Deciding further delay was pointless, they left Fatty behind and closed in on Jun.
They had not come to exchange greetings.
Shiiing—
Two blades slid free with a cold rasp. The mercenary who had fired the crossbow drew a short sword; the one who had scolded him drew a bastard sword.
“…Mercenary uncles, how much did that guy pay you? I’ve got some money myself. Any chance you’d drop his request?”
“Tempting as hell, but no.”
“There’s a pretty high-up person in Lemumni standing behind that fat kid. If it weren’t for that, we never would’ve taken a job like this.”
The man with the bastard sword looked briefly tempted, then shook his head. The short-sword mercenary wore a sour expression, as if he hated being here just as much, and explained why they had come.
Revealing a client without permission was one of the things mercenaries were never supposed to do. The fact that they were breaking that rule showed just how much they despised this particular job.
There seemed to be other reasons as well. Somehow it felt like they were trying to shift any resentment that might come their way onto the client. Was that just his imagination?
“Yeah, damn it. They say killing someone who bears a Stigma brings lifelong bad luck.”
“That’s not even the half of it. The fairy next to the brat is a luck fairy completely devoted to her religion. Kill the kid and it’s not just bad luck—you’ll be cursed with full-blown misfortune.”
“Damn it, damn it! Why the hell did we have to end up owing people like that?”
“We had no choice. Without that money we never would’ve gotten our hands on an aura cultivation method. Don’t start regretting it now—just focus on the job.”
The mercenaries openly traded conversation loaded with deliberate intent, then steeled themselves and slowly leveled their blades at Jun.
The tips did not tremble. There would be no talking their way out of a fight.
Fortuna seemed to reach the same conclusion; she stopped treating Harry and moved to Jun’s side.
“Jun. This time I’m joining the fight.”
“You sure? They’re aura users.”
“Are you looking down on me? I told you last time—the Slaughterer of Lumen is standing right here.”
“Heh. You did. All right, I’m counting on you. Harry, you hide somewhere safe until the fighting’s over. Got it?”
“…Okay. Sorry for just being a burden.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry. Really sorry for dragging you into something like this.”
With that, Jun and Fortuna charged the mercenaries. Harry watched their backs with tears welling in his eyes, then spun around and fled into the underbrush, determined not to be a burden any longer.
“…”
Someone silently followed after him.
Clang! Clang!
“Damn it! These kids aren’t messing around!”
“I know!”
“Jun!”
“Attack!”
The battle between Jun and Fortuna on one side and the mercenaries on the other swung back and forth without either side gaining a clear edge.
Jun weathered concentrated assaults by the skin of his teeth, relying on Activation and Fortuna’s support. Fortuna herself was so busy covering him that she could not freely attack; the few strikes she managed to throw were carefully avoided by the mercenaries, who had already learned the hard way not to underestimate her.
The mercenaries gave everything they had to kill their target. Yet Jun read every attack as if he could see them coming, slipping past with clean, optimal movements. On top of that, the fairy’s interference restricted their mobility while damage steadily stacked up.
At this rate the fight would end in their defeat. Gritting their teeth, the mercenaries wrenched their aura to its absolute limit.
That was when it happened.
“Jun! Stop!”
Frank’s voice, raw with desperation, cut through the air.
As if by prior agreement, the three humans and one fairy all sprang apart to assess the situation. Still watching one another warily, they carefully turned toward the source of the shout.
“Fuck… for real.”
A curse slipped from Jun’s lips.
Far off, beneath the tree that had practically become his designated seat—the one overlooking the broad lake—stood Frank. One arm was stretched out toward the water; in that outstretched hand he gripped Harry by the collar. Harry’s body was already half dangling over the slope.
“Jun, you already know. Every single fish living in this lake is dangerous. If you don’t want to watch Harry become fish food, don’t move.”
This time Jun could not defy the order. He felt the mercenaries closing in from behind, yet he did not so much as twitch.
“Jun! What are you doing?! Move already!”
“…”
“You said you’d live with me! You said I was yours now! Then move, damn it!”
“…Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“You bastard! Hwaaang!”
Fortuna burst into tears at the apology. The wrong person was crying; Jun could only offer a bitter smile. The apology had never been meant for her.
“No… it’s okay.”
Harry smiled forlornly, as if he regretted not being able to play a little longer.
Then he said goodbye—the same way he always did after a fun day, just before climbing into bed.
“Bye.”
See you tomorrow.
The words that always followed never came this time.