Chapter 325
Chapter 325
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 325
Chapter Title: Those Martial Artist Guys
-----------------------------------------------------------------
After the act was over, I went to sleep in the morning and woke up to another morning.
I'd slept straight through an entire day due to the massive stamina drain.
I'd collapsed from complete exhaustion, while Claudy and Winia had passed out after falling into a hellish cycle of climaxes from my relentless hours-long assault. They were still sleeping soundly in the same positions they'd been in when I drifted off.
"...Winia. Let's not use those drugs so carelessly from now on."
I gently brushed aside the disheveled hair from Winia's face as she slept in a messy sprawl. This was all her fault. How dare she slip something like that into my drink?
"And you, Claudy—don't ask for weird stuff anymore."
What? Even if I begged you to stop, keep going anyway?
In the end, I'd reduced Claudy to half-sobbing tears.
Anyway, after sleeping it off, I'd recovered some stamina. No point lazing around now that I was up—time to sell off the loot I'd brought back.
There were tons of nest cores and drop items from the dead adventurers. Just the gear alone filled a whole sack, and I'd hauled back three backpacks too.
—Rummage rummage.
Digging through the backpacks, I found oil and rations. Maps, lamps, cloth, bandages, all sorts of folk remedies, a fire starter, daggers, even a hammer—tons of practical stuff.
All three packs were stuffed like that.
Looked like they'd belonged to some pretty well-prepared adventurers.
—Who ended up dead anyway.
No matter how well you prepare or follow the rules, one moment of carelessness and you're done for. This was a present—a gift with a warning attached.
Better to keep this stuff for personal use than sell it.
I carefully sorted through the items without waking the girls.
—Clink clatter.
Checking the sack of gear, I found several weapons, a worn gauntlet, shoes, leather gloves, a cape— all sorts of miscellaneous equipment crammed in there.
Probably worth about 5 silver.
Nothing beats rifling through corpses for profit. Reality doesn't leave any lingering warmth from the dead anyway. Finders keepers.
The nest core was a bit scorched but still intact.
Might fetch around 20 silver as a bounty? After sorting everything, I washed up, rested a bit, then geared up.
I opened the cupboard, laid out the remaining food on the table, and set down the water jug that still had some left.
They'd eat when they woke up.
Leaving the soundly sleeping pair behind, I headed outside.
Shouldering two heavy sacks—one with the nest core, one with gear—was a real workout. My back ached; I'd clearly overdone it. How many hours had we gone before passing out?
Yet I'd woken up with a raging tent pole. Unbelievable.
First stop: the smithy to sell the weapons. Better to haggle a bulk discount. Grunting under the weight, I made it to the commercial district and ducked into a decent-looking smithy.
"Morning. Here to sell some weapons."
"...Weapons, eh?"
I dropped the sack and pulled out every blade I'd brought. The smith eyed me suspiciously.
"Where'd you get all this...? Bandits?"
He was politely asking if I was a murdering thief who'd killed folks for their gear. Polite guy.
"Nah, smith. You hear about those hornets wrecking the city recently?"
"...Ruined business for days."
"Tons of adventurers went to deal with 'em and got wiped out. Picked up their drops. Man, thought I was a goner—those monster hornets were everywhere."
I joked around to put him at ease. Sure enough, the killer hornets that had infested the city were long gone.
Apparently, a bunch of nests got smashed the day before yesterday. With soldiers and swarms of adventurers charging in, it was inevitable.
Problems like that vanish the moment real force gets deployed.
And we lent a hand too.
Thinking of Congo's independence brought a pang to my heart.
"Huh. Fair enough—no issues then. Let me appraise 'em."
While the smith valued the gear, I browsed the back. All sorts of deadly weapons and armor on display—hard not to want something.
Might as well swap my pauldrons for metal ones while I'm here.
The leather ones I'd bought before were shredded beyond repair. Leaving them on was basically begging for a throat slash.
Spotting a nice set among the displays: articulated metal plates that looked flexible for shoulder movement, solid protection, and the ends curved out to deflect blades away from the neck. Sweet.
Grabbed it.
"All this comes to 3 silver... Oh? Thinking of buying that?"
"Lemme try it on."
"I'll fit it for you."
The smith removed my old pauldrons and strapped on the new ones with practiced ease. Weight... not bad.
Heavier than leather, but manageable.
"Hm. Feels fine weight-wise."
"Top quality. Special price today."
"In that case."
—Whoosh!
The moment he secured it, I unleashed a flurry of Instant Fist techniques to test mobility. Lethal strikes flowed like water into big swings.
—Swish swish!
Finished with a flourish like a seasoned swordsman sheathing his blade.
"...Kui kui."
No restrictions. The joints made it feel like I wasn't wearing anything.
Good enough to buy.
"Thought you were a swordsman with that blade, but you're a martial artist?"
The smith, who'd watched my ferocious display, asked in admiration.
Objectively, my barehanded skills could mop the floor with mid-level instructors at the martial artists' guild. Battle-honed killing arts.
"Bit of both. This'll do. How much?"
"4 silver 30 copper, but specially yours for 4 silver."
Fuck.
More expensive than my haul.
And casually tacking on 30 copper to a 4-silver item, then acting like he's giving a discount? What a merchant.
"Tack it onto my sales—call it 1 extra silver?"
"Deal."
Handed over the blades and a silver coin, then headed out. Sold the capes, gloves, shoes, and sack at a nearby general store for another silver in bulk.
Traded my old gear for these iron pauldrons. Defense boost felt great.
"Nice."
Collecting gear is addictive. Wonder if I'll end up in full plate someday.
Imagining myself clad in ultimate steel armor, I headed to the Adventurer's Guild next. They were handling bounties from the lord and merchants. Rewards exchanged there.
Arrived and looked for Kobson—no sign.
Shouldered the sack and hit the counter.
"Hey. Nest core bounty exchange."
"Ah, got it?"
—Rustle.
Mention of the core drew every eye in the guild to me. I dramatically pulled out the torso-sized orb from the sack.
—Ooh, oooh... That guy's got skills.
—C-rank?
—That black hair... Seen him around. Real deal.
Whispers everywhere. No adventurer unaware of the fat bounty on nest cores. Expected.
"One sec... Name?"
"Katt. D-rank adventurer."
"Come with me to the second floor."
"Second floor?"
He pulled a paper from a stack and led me upstairs. First time up there.
The second floor was calm and orderly, unlike the chaos below. Followed him into a room.
"Guy with a core's here."
"Oh? Bring him in."
Sat as directed.
Across from me, a white-haired middle-aged man stood gazing out the window—high-ranking staff.
Plopped the core on the desk right away.
"Here."
"Decent size. You personally smashed a hornet nest?"
"With my party. Man, the nests were packed with kidnapped people. Horrific scene."
"Saw that, huh? Confirms you were there."
"Why lie? So, bounty amount?"
The middle-aged man inspected it, then went to a curtained cabinet nearby. —Swish! Pulled it back to reveal...
More nest cores.
Eight of varying sizes on display.
"Yours... Similar to this third one."
"Whoa, really? They've cleared more nests than I thought."
"Lots of people went in. Anyway, top tier's 19 silver. This one's 20... Yours is a tad smaller, so 19."
Size comparison checked out. 19 silver was a massive windfall. Nodded.
"Good. Keep it up if more come. It'll go on record."
"Thanks much."
"Here's your bounty."
The coin pouch had exactly 19 silver coins. Pocketed it and headed downstairs.
—Murmur murmur.
Adventurers still whispering, eyeing me with envy, jealousy, even violent intent...
Some might be plotting a mugging for the payout.
If so, I'd carve 'em up and dump the pieces in the sewer.
Anyway, grab some food and head back.
Clady and Winia must be wiped. Left some out, but probably not enough.
No load, light on my feet. Fat wallet, light heart. Strolled along, musing on Congo.
The hornet panic over, the town buzzed with life again. Adventurers passing by, dojo-robed folk, mages, archers... Huh.
Glancing around, spotted a familiar blonde in a qipao-like uniform wiggling her hips as she walked. Hair not as nice as Kobson's, though.
Familiar back... Especially the outfit.
"Huh? Ain't that Mariel?"
It was Mariel.
Excited, I sped up and called her. Been a while.
"Who's calling m—Eek?!"
She turned, face paling, and —thud! fell flat on her ass. What the? Seen a grim reaper? Her qipao fluttered, flashing red panties underneath.
"Urk...! Y-You Heavenly Demon! Scaring me like that!"
She's the one freaking out.
"Overreacting much? Get up."
I reached to help her up.
"Wh-what? What's that mean? You gonna lift me just to yeet me?"
Panicking Mariel suspiciously scanned around. This damn...
So frustrating.
"What do you take me for, you little shit? Want a smack?"
"J-joke! Don't hit!"
Fuck.