Chapter 15
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 015
Chapter Title: Nickname
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Suddenly, a scene from an ocean documentary I'd watched as a kid flashed in my mind. It was footage from an underwater camera showing all sorts of animals swarming to tear into the massive carcass of a dead whale.
The trigger for that memory was simple. The fortune left behind by the dead Golden Beetle was staggeringly immense, even at a casual glance.
Chests brimming with gold coins, assorted artwork, glossy wooden furniture... All manner of priceless treasures were being carefully loaded onto the backs of the Tarasques.
In the end, all ten Tarasques were laden down heavily with cargo. Six carried the valuables, while three were tasked with transporting food supplies and other goods.
A large tent had been pitched on the back of the last one. It looked like the mount the Golden Beetle's two sons used in place of a carriage.
'They'll be heading out soon.'
The laborers draped tarps over the cargo strapped to the Tarasques' backs. It seemed they'd finished loading and were wrapping up the final preparations.
Sure enough, just as Woojin predicted, the Tarasques soon lumbered to their feet. The procession of giant lizards marching in single file forward exuded tremendous intimidation just from their sheer mass moving in unison.
Jonathan motioned to his crew.
"Alright. Time for us to join the convoy."
The Black Marlin Mercenary Corps merged into the cargo transport. The mercenaries already there turned to look their way. Most of those gazes fixed on the red-furred wolf.
"Grrr..."
Rex let out a low growl. He seemed uneasy with all the unfamiliar stares. Woojin stroked the scruff of his neck to calm him down.
He hadn't originally planned to bring Rex along. Having a wolf beast in the group might make the other mercenary corps uncomfortable. But Jonathan had swiftly handled that issue.
'He said he reported it to the mercenary guild in advance.'
After notifying the guild about the wolf beast's presence, he'd apparently spoken separately with the other mercenary leaders to get their approval. Thanks to his efforts, Woojin could bring Rex without worry.
Two mercenaries approached. They looked seasoned at a glance. Jonathan personally greeted them and brought them over.
"Here, these two are the leaders of the mercenary corps allied with us. Memorize their faces. Wouldn't want to say something stupid and get your ass kicked later."
Woojin sized up the two mercenaries.
The man on the left was Marcus.
Leader of the Red Horn Mercenary Corps. He carried a massive two-handed axe on his back. A bit short in stature, but his shoulders were broad as boulders, giving him a rock-solid build.
The man on the right was Dillon.
Leader of the Iron Shield Mercenary Corps. For some reason, he preferred growing a beard over hair—his head was completely bald and shiny, but his lower face was buried under a long, wispy gray beard.
His oversized shield caught the eye.
'Is that where the corps gets its name?'
It was an intriguing shield. Shaped like an elongated isosceles triangle. The edges were honed sharp like a blade.
Depending on the grip, it could serve as either a shield or a sword.
'Handy to have one of those.'
Shields were versatile tools.
Woojin had once favored one himself. He'd used it reliably for quite a while, but it got smashed during his last fight with the werewolf.
Since then, he'd been debating whether to get a new one. It felt like a gap without it, but carrying one around seemed like an unnecessary hassle...
"...So you're that infamous Skull Crusher, huh."
Dillon muttered suddenly. Woojin looked up from his thoughts. Everyone around was staring at him.
'Did he just call me?'
The unfamiliar term threw him off, so Woojin asked to confirm.
"Were you addressing me?"
"I was. Was my pronunciation off just now?"
"I got confused because it was an unfamiliar word."
As Woojin replied, Jonathan chuckled beside him and chimed in.
"Jin. You don't even know your own nickname?"
...My nickname?
Woojin blinked. When had he gotten a nickname he didn't even know about?
Dillon continued.
"Mercenaries from your group were saying... there's this guy who treats a wolf beast like a hunting dog, and a Mad Skull took one look at him and fled in terror like a scared pup. That's how he got the moniker Skull Crusher."
Skull Crusher.
Skull Smasher. It must have stuck because he'd driven off the Mad Skull.
Woojin dismissed the new nickname as childish.
"Just call me Jin. It's too silly to use instead of my name."
"That's how it is with men. Anyway, looks like you really are the guy from the rumors. Looking forward to your performance on this job."
With that, Dillon and Marcus returned to their own corps. They must have come over just to confirm Woojin's face for themselves.
Apparently, while they'd been in the city, the Black Marlin crew had been talking about the incident over drinks.
"...Feels like I've suddenly become famous."
"Word spreads fast in this business when someone shows off a bit of strength. Honestly, it's weirder that you stayed under the radar this long."
Claire let him in on it.
She hadn't known about the rumors either, since she'd been sticking close to Woojin lately, but she didn't seem all that surprised by the turn of events.
"You're gonna have some annoyances for a while."
"Why?"
"You might not care, but this line of work is full of idiots desperate to make a name for themselves. They do it to boost their own value... You get the picture, right?"
Take down someone famous, and you steal their renown outright.
Looking at the other mercenaries after hearing Claire's explanation, Woojin spotted a few with shady intent gleaming in their eyes. They were eyeing him like predators waiting for the right moment, throats cleared and ready.
"We can fight even if we're allies?"
"As long as no weapons are involved. One-on-one bare-knuckle brawls to sort out who's boss are common enough. Jonathan does it all the time to discipline unruly underlings—calls it 'sparring' while beating the crap out of them."
"Huh."
Sounded like he could rough up anyone who came at him. The journey wouldn't be boring.
Opportunities to boost one's reputation didn't come often. In the Red Horn Mercenary Corps, several members had their eyes on Woojin.
Robert was one of them.
"Let's go grab that fraud and give him a beating."
"Uh... do we have to?"
His sworn brothers, Matthew and Joseph, reacted tepidly to Robert's words.
It was the first day of the commission.
After marching nonstop toward the barrier, they'd finally gotten a break. Starting a fight this early felt like a bad idea.
Seeing their attitude, Robert snapped in frustration.
"What's with you idiots? This is first come, first served! That guy's an obvious con artist. Chasing off a beast with just a look? Come on."
"True, but... there's gotta be something to the rumors, right? Never seen the Black Marlins make such a fuss before."
Besides, Woojin had the wolf beast with him, just like the stories said. Meaning the Black Marlin tales had some basis in fact.
As Matthew cautioned carefully, Robert regained a sliver of composure. But his resolve hadn't broken.
"We'll never get anywhere playing it safe. That bastard cashed in big on one rumor, and he's got a hot woman on his arm. Beat him, and it's all ours!"
"The woman... brown hair?"
"Yeah, that ridiculously pretty one. Thought my heart was gonna stop. Guy's got some talent sniffing her out."
Matthew paled.
"Bro, touch that woman and you're done for. She's Jonathan's niece. Heard plenty of guys who tried flirting ended up crippled."
"...Fuck, really?"
Robert's expression turned grave too, belatedly.
Jonathan had a notorious reputation for his vicious temper in the business. Laying a hand on his niece would invite hellish retaliation.
Robert's plan had holes galore. Noticing it, Joseph—who'd been silently watching—stood up.
"Hey! Where you going?"
"Not getting involved. No matter how you slice it, this one's a losing bet."
"Then me too..."
With Joseph bailing, Matthew glanced around nervously and slipped away as well. Left alone, Robert spat on the ground.
"Tch, you cowardly bastards... You'll regret it later and get what's coming!"
Even so, he had no intention of backing down.
Robert headed alone toward the Black Marlin encampment. Soon, he ran into two mercenaries standing guard.
The guards called out to him.
"Hey. What do you want?"
"Skull Crusher, right? Got business with that hotshot."
"Oh yeah? First customer of the day. Have fun."
They burst out laughing. Clear mockery. Robert swallowed his humiliation.
Wasting stamina fighting these two here would be idiotic. He had one perfect target to vent on. Steel yourself, he thought, and kept walking.
Robert soon spotted his target. Naturally, Woojin had noticed him too.
"Wanna give it a shot?"
Woojin asked. Instead of answering, Robert clenched his fists.
"Fight!"
"Let's see the face of this ballsy bastard!"
The surrounding mercenaries cheered and crowded around. They formed a loose circle at a safe distance, like a mini arena.
Robert glared at Woojin with bloodshot eyes. Pumped by the roars, his blood boiled. Lost in excitement, he charged with a bellow.
"Raaagh— Gahk?!"
Smack!!
The slap of flesh cut off Robert's roar. Woojin had lashed out with a kick to Robert's left leg. His foot whipped like a flail across the thigh, ringing out sharply.
Pain exploded. Robert stumbled back limping in shock. But as he tried to step forward, his body tilted.
"Wha— Huh...?"
Thud—
His legs gave out. Robert collapsed unwittingly. He tried to scramble up, but the injured leg wouldn't obey.
The mood chilled.
"...What the hell's this loser?"
"Ends it with one hit?"
Normal bare-knuckle scraps always drew blood—broken noses or teeth at minimum.
Fists lacked the lethality of steel, so you aimed for the face, and even then, it took a few solid hits to settle things.
But Robert was down from a single leg kick. The onlookers couldn't hold back their crude jabs.
"Which corps is this clown from?"
"Thought we were in for a show."
"My grandma could last longer than that punk."
"Hahaha!"
Jeers rained from all sides. Robert had to take it all lying there. He wanted to slink away, but his leg wouldn't let him.
"Urk, fuck..."
He flailed on the dirt like he was swimming. Laughter swelled at the pathetic sight—until two men pushed through the crowd.
Matthew and Joseph flanked Robert, helping him up. They slung his arms over their shoulders.
"Boss, let's head back."
"Listen to us next time."
"...Got it."
The three brothers shuffled off together.