Chapter 91
Chapter 91
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 91
Chapter Title: Awl in the Pocket?
-----------------------------------------------------------------
No, this wasn't the kind of awl that pops out of a pocket.
"You're ignoring ranks on top of ignoring context? Looks like you can't even see the seniors in front of you."
"If you're so great, how great are you? Twisting my words just because I asked what the mission was?"
Jay, perched hidden in a leafy tree, paused mid-sip from the leather pouch of liquor and snapped off a twig to peer below.
He had thought the back of the building used as both mess hall and gathering spot would be quiet late at night, with few people passing by—perfect for eavesdropping unnoticed.
But he wasn't the only one with that idea. With a sigh, he began clicking his tongue softly.
'Crazy bastards.'
Sensing the difference in skill was a skill in itself.
Recognizing the instincts' warning was skill too.
'No way they'll actually kill them all.'
He had planned to tell the captain and get them staked out somehow, so having them turn out to be murderers would be a problem.
Three from the 1777th batch, two from the 1776th, and one from the 1770th.
Six of them surrounding Kane. Jay straightened from leaning against the tree and began taking in the scene.
"We took a confidentiality oath, so I can't tell you."
A small but forceful voice. Emotionless, yet laced with disgust.
Jay smirked. That tone—neither fully polite nor rude—was because there were senior cadets mixed in, but they didn't deem him worth the respect, starting polite then dropping it.
'Idiots.'
Thanks to them, he had a nice show to spice up his drink.
Jay was at a distance, concealed by leaves, but he waved cheerfully at those golden eyes staring right at him, then took a swig.
"Who said spill every detail? Ha, this guy's not getting it."
"Well, you're the idiot, then."
Jay had seen those eyes plenty. Slave hunters caught using monster borderlands to dodge inspections.
The eyes of the children and beastkin they rescued after.
Loathing and enmity toward humans.
Eyes holding no trust or expectation in people.
Looking into them made you feel like vermin.
They must have felt the same. That's why they pried into a mission under confidentiality oath.
Not really wanting answers—just needing an excuse.
Like now.
"Shut up. Time for a beating. Cocky juniors who don't know their place need the stick."
The six men snickered as two grabbed Kane's arms.
"Hold out your cheek, and count the hits aloud. Or beg forgiveness for your arrogance, and maybe we'll go easy."
The man with the highest batch badge spoke, and Kane let out a loose breath.
"Senior, let's start by cutting off a finger. I brought potions."
"Kekeke, should we? Fingers regrow quick with potions—no big loss."
His batchmates holding his arms snickered as they gripped his wrists tighter. The senior drew a dagger from his belt, and Kane's eyes chilled as he spoke.
"How to read maps, operate squads under thirty, run strategy meetings. Something like that."
They probably wouldn't nag about not learning politics.
"What'd you mumble, punk?"
"Stick out your fingers, brat."
At Kane's low murmur, thinking it an insult, the men barked.
Kane stomped the left guy's foot with a crunch.
"Aaak! Guk!"
As the pain made him release and stumble, Kane smashed the screaming jaw with his freed hand, then yanked the hair of the other arm-holder and twisted his neck up.
All in a blink!
No one here could react. By the time their brains caught up, one captor had a shattered jaw, the other a grotesquely twisted neck, both down moaning faintly.
"H-He killed them! Killed his batchmate!"
"No way."
"You're dead!"
Just twisted enough they couldn't get up right away.
Kane looked nonchalant as he slapped away the dagger swinging at his neck by striking the wrist, sending it flying.
The guy who threw a punch from the side as the dagger swung got dodged with a slight twist, then tripped fully by a ankle kick as his stance crumbled.
The dagger whirled in the air with a whoosh before falling.
Kane flicked it into the thigh of a 1776th batcher turning to flee, then backhanded the cheek of the man in front. His head snapped with a thud, shattered teeth spraying from his mouth.
"Guk!"
"Kuaaaak! L-Leg! My leg!"
One per motion.
The remaining men paled, trying to flee, but Kane moved faster, choking one's throat and slamming him into the wall. All six writhed on the ground moaning.
"Kuuh...."
"S-Sorry!"
"Y-You bastard. D-Do you think y-you'll get away with th-this?"
Kane eyed coldly the man spitting blood-mixed saliva, ranting despite being a lowly batcher.
"Humans."
Eyes hiding no disgust.
Even the cusser and the groaning ones froze under overwhelming force.
"D-Dogs...."
"Monsters given license to rampage."
So quit this crap if you want to live.
Even after Kane whispered lowly and left, the six swallowed moans, fearing loud steps might bring him back—they ditched their boots and crept away.
"You ruined my drink...."
He'd asked while heading to the hills to bond: Do you have someone precious? Kane's curt "sister" had seemed so human.
More resentful of humans than the beastkin slaves captured and sold.
Wasn't that cheating?
Jay read the savagery under that deep loathing, and the desperation beneath. Goosebumps prickled; he rubbed his arms.
* * *
"We're victims too."
"That's your problem. Claim from the regular subjugation unit or other mercs—none of my business."
I grinned, sticking to my damages only, and the faces before me blanched.
"Kuh... Could you... cut it down a bit? I don't have that kind of money, young master. Or installments to the main family...."
Stooped ratkin man. At Kicho's words, I downed wine and shrugged.
"I've slashed it hugely already. Strictly, it's my life-price. I nearly died, you know?"
My true loss couldn't be filled even a hundredfold.
"I've been plenty lenient. Didn't even tell the main family to handle it quietly. Contact them, and it blows up?"
No matter what I said, they twisted back to square one, caught on bad intel first. The regular unit reps wiped sweat nonstop.
Everyone had grievances. No deliberate perps, just victims—and I got caught in it, so no proper meeting now.
Good enough. They'd have to agree to cut reparations now.
"Fine. Money's rotting away anyway."
I propped my chin, smirking, memorizing their faces.
"Instead of cash: you three work under me a month. Monster hunts need beaters; didn't bring servants."
Slightly annoyed Kicho and Rayren, expressionless Vincent.
"But byproducts are yours to split. I just watch for fun."
"Kihehe, leave it to us!"
"Young master’s generous. Why refuse?"
"Fine."
Pulled in the borderlands' top three groups.
I turned to the gulping regular subjugator.
"Sticking around, saw fun missions the regulars handle. Instead: let me join the ones I want."
"That needs your boss, Commander Reinhardt—but he's not here, right?"
Reinhardt was off investigating presumed black mage human sacrifices, not back. Authority to vice-commander.
'And in the original, that vice-commander fled solo to the capital when Cyclops came down.'
Unlike Reinhardt here for honor and commoner protection, different motives. He'd agree to my terms to avoid my chaos.
"Yes. Hard to promise now, but we'll raise it with vice-commander and get approval."
Better than huge reparations—just let the soldier-game obsessed young master join hunts.
"One of you, go now. I hate waiting."
"I'll go!"
No dragging to tomorrow; Reinhardt back would snag it.
I eyed the user’s eyes on, face relaxing like saved, and the youngest bolted after a bow.
"Tea while you wait, young master. Leaf, serve the others."
Luna and Leaf brought tea during the brief break.
Delinquent noble with pretty maid, noble-ish secretary/valet, hot bodyguard.
Total spoiled punk vibe.
"Thanks."
"Nice aroma—oh, southern tea."
"Kuhuhu, sweet scent but taste...."
I smiled warmly, scanning around with user’s eyes on anyway.
Usually float drops per use lately, so skimping.
But checked for Evil God Cult remnants, confirming the runner.
His traits plain; pity to off, so.
'Really wanted Vincent's.'
Unit I used often in game. Mine way later in original, so curious now.
[Vincent―Wavering Zealot]
Key Traits: [Faith(S)] [Leadership(A)]
Hidden Traits: [Sophistry(B)] [Brainwashing(E)]
'As expected.'
Still solid now.
Game Vincent from elsewhere, not border. Named unit via special means, not tavern/recruit generics.
Ex-heretic leader; lost faith war to Evil God Cult, but here Faith 'S' still.
'Interesting.'
Story twists on twists.
Recalled game Vincent with brainwashing, sophistry, charisma—handy all ways—sipped tea, scanned others.
'Kicho as is.'
Intrigue(B), Intel Gathering(B), nothing special. Rayren: hidden monopoly/jealousy aside, solid fighter traits.
Scouts same.
Top 'B'. My circle's 'S's/'A's skew it; decent really.
'Eyes too high lately.'
Hot tea cooled as quick steps outside, knock, enter.
"Huff, huff. Report: vice-commander approved."
"Good?"
Now I can strut at Cyclops subjugation.
Runner handed paper; I smiled slowly.