Chapter 66: Offered a Second Job
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 66: Offered a Second Job
"Let's just kill them all."
Some had gone beyond dropping their weapons; they had literally pissed themselves.
Standing before them, Rem spoke while hefting his blood-stained axe.
"P-P-Please spare us!"
It was only natural for them to be terrified. They had already lost all will to fight.
Rem believed they had to die. He was from the western frontiers—often derogatorily called a barbarian—and he had spent his entire childhood there. The frontier was a world where you couldn't afford to leave loose ends.
"It's pretty clear they sent the assassins. What's the point of arguing over who the culprit is? Let's just slit their throats and get it over with. Isn't that cleaner?"
The terrified bandits couldn't even find their voices. Standing between Encrid and the kneeling criminals, Rem looked ready to swing his axe at any second.
The captives kept their mouths shut, trembling.
"Where did you throw your blanket?"
Rem had been about to take matters into his own hands if Encrid didn't want to do it, but he was met with an entirely unexpected question.
"What?"
"Your blanket."
When they had left the barracks, Rem had definitely been wrapped tightly in a blanket. But at some point, he had discarded it.
"Around the entrance of the alley?" Rem answered. That was before they saw the beggar. His unique instinct—the scent of a beast—had prompted him to prepare for battle.
"Then what are you going to do when you sleep tonight?"
Rem didn't know why Encrid kept asking such things, but he’d had a plan from the moment he threw the blanket away.
"Don't worry, I can just use the blanket of the guy who stays out every night. I won't steal yours, Squad Leader."
"Touch my things and you die. No, I'll kill you myself. Without fail."
Sachsen understood the implication and reacted immediately. The guy who stayed out at the drop of a hat was Sachsen. He had many women; whenever they entered a new territory, he frequently emptied his quarters at night to visit them.
"Cheap bastard. You're not even going to be using it."
"Don't touch it, barbarian."
"What a sly stray cat. So narrow-minded."
Seeing the two start to bicker, Encrid clapped his hands together.
"There's no need for that, Rem."
Encrid had a plan from the moment he targeted the thieves' guild—a plan slightly more plausible than Rem's clumsy blanket-stealing scheme. Half of it was because they seemed to be the ones who sent the assassins, and the other half was for a different purpose entirely.
This is unexpected.
He was more than fifty percent sure they might not actually be the masterminds behind the assassination. After all, didn't he already know that Azpen had sent them?
If anyone had asked him to bet Krona, he would have wagered on the guild being innocent of that specific crime. Though, he would have only wagered a few copper coins he didn't mind losing.
Whether they were the masterminds or not didn't matter. There was a plan more important than that.
"It's pretty cold out. Don't you want to stay warm?"
Rem tilted his head. Everyone wore expressions wondering what he was talking about.
"Huh?"
Only Krais, with his extraordinary wits and sharp mind, understood. He blinked his large eyes and looked at his squad leader as if thinking, No way.
Encrid nodded lightly.
How many years had he rolled around in the mercenary world just to train his sword? While he had learned of the existence of the Valen-style mercenary sword there, he had learned several other things besides combat.
For example: It is only right to empty the pockets of a thief who tries to rob me.
Encrid made up his mind. He didn't think this would affect his dream. They were a criminal gang, anyway; the wealth they accumulated couldn't have been gathered through proper means. Though loose ends and various other issues might crop up...
It doesn't matter.
Now that he had the skill, confidence naturally followed in other matters. He believed he could resolve it somehow.
Exhaling a puff of frosty breath, Encrid continued.
"Let's rob them. Even if we can't get a magic heater for the barracks, let's at least line the place with a few thermal demonic beast hides."
Silence fell once more. It was an entirely unexpected turn of events.
Soon, Rem burst into laughter.
"Exactly! The goods from the land I secured belong to me."
It was a very Rem-like way of putting it.
"Warmly?" Ragna reacted as well. No one liked being cold.
"Haha. The Lord said, 'Steal from the thieves and use it widely for good.'"
Was such a thing actually written in the Holy Scripture? Or did they teach that at the temple? Probably neither. But Audin firmly believed his own words, conveying the righteousness of the deed.
"Not bad," Sachsen added, nodding.
"Are we just going to rob them?" Krais offered a more advanced suggestion. "Let's go inside first and talk. It's cold."
The temperature was low enough to quickly cool even the heat radiating from the blood and guts of the dead.
They immediately entered the mansion. As Krais urged the hesitating, wary survivors to go inside, the rest followed. Since those with broken legs remained outside, Krais called out to the others.
"Help them all up and bring them inside."
At Krais's words, the survivors looked at each other, gauging the situation. Wouldn't it be better to run away right now? The dilemma was plain on their faces.
"They will hunt you down," Krais warned. "Either the guy with the axe from earlier, or the one whose hobby is breaking legs."
Ragna and Sachsen had fought well, but in the eyes of the gang, the most terrifying ones were Rem with his axe and Audin, who shattered legs with his club. It was pure terror.
"Do you think you can avoid the eyes of the standing army within the Border Guard? Or do you plan to explore the late season tonight when demonic beasts roam? You'll either freeze to death or become beast food. We won't kill you, so come inside."
Krais was a master of persuasion. Hearing Krais's words as he walked inside, Encrid offered a compliment.
"You would have made an excellent con man."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Yes."
"I don't think it is."
Inside, a fire was crackling in the fireplace. Feeling the warmth of human habitation throughout the place, it was clear the dead man had lived well here. Above the fireplace, two blunt practice swords and a shield were hung in a cross, and a few paintings decorated the walls on either side.
"Are those expensive?" Encrid glanced at the paintings and asked.
Krais spoke without even looking closely. "No, they're cheap. I wonder who would even buy such trash."
Even Encrid, who lacked any artistic sensibility, agreed.
"I could paint better than that with my feet," Rem added, sharing the sentiment.
As they all stood close to the fireplace, long shadows stretched behind them.
"Light the torches. It's dark," Encrid said, warming himself. He wasn't addressing anyone in particular, and at first, no one moved. Encrid added, "Since Gilpin is dead, the next guy in charge step up and do it."
"Gilpin isn't dead."
One of the uninjured men stepped forward. He was a fellow with a "white sandy beach" on his head instead of hair. If seen during the day, the baldness would have been blinding. He had a long scar above his eyebrow, but even the combination of the scar and the bald head couldn't make him look fierce. With drooping eyes and thick lips, he didn't look intimidating at all.
But what did he say?
"Gilpin isn't dead?"
Did he have some kind of regenerative power like a monster? Was he saying he survived having his throat slit? The guy who was currently a corpse in the clearing in front of the mansion? There was absolutely no sign of that.
The bald man spoke. "Because I'm Gilpin."
What on earth was this situation?
"He wasn't the boss? Ah, I see. A lizard cutting off its own tail?" Krais pointed outside as he asked, then answered his own question.
At those words, Encrid recalled the gossip he had heard during drinking sessions while rolling around in the mercenary industry.
"It's a trick criminal guilds sometimes pull. They name the gang after one of their subordinates for no good reason."
"Why?"
"So if things go south, they can sell out the subordinate and run. It's a cheap trick they use when the army suddenly raids to sweep up criminals."
"How do you know that so well?"
"I was briefly in that line of work. Anyway, it's not common for people to go that far, but he's a real bastard."
Encrid had never actually seen someone do this in person. Usually, they would name the gang after themselves, if only out of vanity. Putting a subordinate's name forward meant the dead guy outside was an incredibly insidious bastard.
"He was a bastard indeed," Encrid spoke, having understood. Ragna asked from behind what this was all about, and the quick-witted Krais briefly explained the situation.
Encrid's plan was plausible, but simple. Strike the thieves' guild, and if they cooperated, take a reasonable amount of "sincerity" and return. If they resisted, beat them up, take the sincerity anyway, and return. Of course, touching a thieves' guild for no reason would bring consequences, but he was confident he could suppress even that with sheer force. Himself and his squad members would be more than enough.
But they were actually connected to the assassin who targeted him. So what?
What does that matter?
"Are you really going to make us warm?" Rem whispered from behind. He leaned his face in too close, which was unpleasant.
"Get lost," Encrid whispered back, then looked at Gilpin.
Stroking his bald head once, Gilpin watched their reactions before speaking. "If you're going to kill anyone, just kill me and spare the rest. Some of them are struggling to make a living while taking care of sick, elderly mothers."
"Just because you're struggling doesn't make robbing other people's pockets right."
Caring for a sick mother didn't give anyone the right to point a knife at someone else's chest for profit.
"Well... I'd just be grateful if you spared us."
Encrid crossed his arms and stood straight, staring at Gilpin. This guy actually had some backbone. His plea to only kill him was quite impressive.
Then why didn't he fight back earlier? When asked, Gilpin replied:
"Why would I fight for a bastard who used my name and would have run away the moment things went south?"
The two who had been the nameless guild leader's guards nodded from behind. Those two had also barely survived. Looking at how things were playing out, it was obvious what the dead guy had done. No wonder his subordinates all hated him so unanimously.
"Are you going to cough up what you've gathered? If so, we'll leave peacefully," Encrid proceeded according to plan.
"Indeed, if they cough it up, there's no need to kill them." The ideology of a frontiersman was nothing compared to the cold. Rem agreed.
Would the others be any different?
"Yes. But the dead bastard hid the key to the safe..."
"Ah, that's fine."
They had a 'mage' here who could open locked doors with a single knock. A safe box would be a piece of cake.
Gilpin was wise. Once they promised not to kill anyone, he coughed up all the wealth they had accumulated.
"Oh, thermal hides!"
"If you take all of them, the guys guarding the streets will freeze to death."
He was referring to the beggars guarding the streets deep in the alley—the ones they had already killed on their way here. At the mention of the thermal hides lined inside their shabby clothes, Krais said:
"We can't use them if they're stained with blood."
So they couldn't take the ones from the dead beggars. In any case, Encrid saw Gilpin in a new light once again.
He even looked out for the lowest subordinates.
Judging by the situation, despite only lending his name, he seemed far more generous than the actual guild leader. Seeing how everyone tacitly followed Gilpin's lead, including the two guards who clearly knew how to handle a blade, it was obvious.
"Leave some behind," Encrid intervened moderately.
Fortunately, none of them were particularly greedy. Well, one of them should have been. Krais was a squad member overflowing with greed, yet for some reason, he only inspected the goods and made no move to take any.
"Aren't you taking anything?"
"No. Ah, Squad Leader. Actually, I have something to tell you."
Encrid had something to say as well. These guys had already received information and prepared. There was only one place the leak could have come from. It wasn't from within the unit; only two people knew they were coming here.
The company commander and the platoon leader.
Did those two receive Krona bribes from the criminal guild? Probably not. That left only one place.
Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup.
When Krais was whispering with the maid, he had let slip that they were going to wipe out the thieves' guild, pretending it was an accident.
"The maid... did you do that on purpose?"
"Ah, you noticed? You're quite sharp, Squad Leader."
He wasn't bad. How many years of learning to read the room had he accumulated just to survive in this harsh world?
"Exactly. There are plenty of people leaking information to this guild without anyone realizing. That maid was probably their dedicated informant. A cheerful tavern maid is the perfect position to gather all sorts of information. Oh, how terrifying. To think that innocent-looking girl was an informant for thieves."
Terrifying? You're the one who's terrifying.
He had known all along and used it to his full advantage.
"I wasn't entirely sure either. I only confirmed it through this."
"He should have told me beforehand. It was an unnecessary trick."
Realizing his mistake, Krais made excuses.
"Forget it. Let it go. But next time, you'd better tell me in advance."
It was a move made with his squad members' skills in mind. Encrid himself thought this way was more convenient. Normally, even after striking their headquarters, they would have had to hunt down and find the survivors.
Come to think of it, Krais definitely had an ulterior motive. What could he possibly gain by gathering the thieves' guild's full strength only to crush them all?
"Hey, Squad Leader, don't you need some Krona?"
Krais suddenly asked Encrid, blinking his large eyes. Looking like that while pretending to be innocent was a sure sign he was plotting something again. Krais was someone who knew how to use his looks, and he was clever, too.
Not that it worked on Encrid, though.
"Let's hear what kind of scheme you're cooking up."
The pretty-eyes act didn't work, but Krais's words struck a chord. Since the imperial currency, Krona, was synonymous with money, Krais's question was essentially asking if he needed funds.
He always needed money. He had spent every last bit of his reward money to buy a single sword, leaving him struggling to afford any other gear. While looting this place had put out the immediate fire, he would still need money constantly in the future.
"Let's take over this place," Krais said calmly.
And just like that, he proposed a second job to Encrid.