Chapter 21
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Dealing with Uninvited Guests (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Seeing the executive charging with a dagger clutched in one hand, arm extended straight toward his chest, Dominic instinctively ducked low and seized the man's arm.
Then, using the opponent's own momentum, he flung him smoothly toward the opposite side, as if flowing like water. The executive slammed unprotected onto the hard dirt floor and passed out, eyes rolled back to show only the whites.
And then... silence.
"...Dominic?"
The one who first broke the quiet was Kallon. But even he could only manage a voice, his face every bit as stunned as everyone else's.
"What the hell was that just now?"
"...A shoulder throw?"
"You did that?"
"I think so?"
Dominic was just as baffled.
'What is this? Did I really just do that?'
He knew better than anyone that his past life and this one alike had been far removed from martial arts or combat.
'Do I actually have some kind of talent?'
The thought made his mouth stretch into a wide grin, lengthening the groove above his lip. Whatever the case, gaining the power to protect himself was a good thing.
"Do it one more time."
"Aw, come on, mister. Just once. If something breaks, it's not on me, okay?"
"Succeed again, and I'll let you into the Fishing Cooperative."
A skinny fisherman sidled up, still looking deeply skeptical, and extended his arm—as if to say, give it a try.
For Dominic, who'd been repeatedly rejected from the cooperative for being too scrawny and weak, this was the perfect opportunity. Joining wouldn't change much in his daily life, but since he spent most of his time rubbing shoulders with the fishermen, being the only one left out had quietly bruised his pride.
Dominic puffed out his chest like he meant business and grabbed the fisherman's spindly arm.
"Hup!"
He yanked the arm, channeling strength into his lower body to flip the man over his shoulder. Veins bulged on Dominic's forehead.
"Hrrah! ...Hup!"
But incredibly, nothing happened.
"...Bwahaha!"
"Pfft!"
"Yeah, that's more like it!"
Laughter exploded from all directions in an instant.
"What gives? Nailed it before, and now this?"
"Must've been some crisis instinct kicking in. Happens a lot, right, boss? Newbie soldiers pulling superhuman feats when their life's on the line."
"Oh, that? I thought Dominic was hiding some secret skill or something."
"Heh. We got our hopes up for nothing!"
A few of the older men laughed until tears pricked their eyes, then clapped Dominic on the shoulder encouragingly before starting to clean up the traces of the fight.
Dominic scratched his head sheepishly as he bound the intruders tight and went house to house to explain that the battle was over.
'...Mana definitely moved.'
But one person alone—Ian—couldn't tear his eyes from Dominic.
'That instant, mana surged wildly inside this man's body. No doubt about it.'
It was a subtle shift that Ian, who had been approaching Dominic up close, alone noticed.
Born with a constitution sensitive to mana, there was no way he'd miss it.
'Mana scan showed his affinity and internal reserves below average for a commoner. No way I messed up. Impossible.'
When he'd first dragged Dominic here on the Old Lord's orders, Ian had personally run a mana check just in case—which made this all the harder to believe.
'Looks like I've got one more reason to keep watching him.'
The noisy night passed.
"So, definitely the Rondo Merchant Group guys?"
"No doubt. They'd been slinking around our shops, so I was already keeping an eye out."
Anton, who had rushed over overnight upon hearing the news, panted as he revealed the masked men's identities.
"They're infamous for shady rumors. Heard they pull every dirty trick and dangerous stunt for profit, but to brazenly plunder like this..."
"Looked like pros—not their first rodeo. How'd they fly under the radar this long?"
Kallon crossed his arms and scowled, nodding along with Ian.
"They only targeted the powerless—folks too scared to go public after."
"Filthy vermin. Tch. Should've just slit their throats and called it an accident."
"Ease up, mister. Might've felt good, but linking it to the ringleaders would've been tough."
"You mean Rondo?"
"Yeah."
Anton smoothly picked up the thread.
"Reason Rondo's messing with our village? The seaweed, right?"
"Yes. Probably trying to void our supply deal with the Anton Merchant Group and monopolize it themselves."
Anton, who had by now struck out on his own with a merchant group bearing his name, couldn't help blaming himself for the mess.
"Sorry. Should've warned you this might happen..."
"Why're you apologizing? The ones who should be sorry are still playing possum right here."
The masked men flinched at Dominic's words but kept their eyes firmly shut. With those musclebound bruisers glaring daggers, they didn't dare make eye contact.
"Hmmm. Answer straight, and I might let one slide—pretend I didn't see him."
"Me! Ask away!"
At that, one quickly cracked his eyes open, nodding vigorously and shouting that he'd spill whatever they wanted if they just cut him loose.
"Nah, not you, punk. Got some nerve after pressing a blade to my throat."
But Dominic just shook his head. The guy's speech marked him as an executive—probably knew plenty. Still, this was the bastard who'd genuinely tried to kill him. No way was Dominic letting him walk for a few scraps of info.
Crack!
"Yelp!"
The moment Dominic made his stance clear, Kallon smashed the back of the Rondo executive's head without a second glance. A sharp cry escaped, and the man truly rolled his eyes back, out cold.
'Sheesh, that's more than a love tap.'
Kallon's expression clearly fished for praise, leaving Dominic relieved they were on the same side—while steeling himself to step up his game.
"Any other takers?"
Then, a huddled figure in the corner raised a tentative hand.
"I've been with the group less than three months, and this was my first raid. Give me one shot—I'll go straight, swear it!"
Up close, he was still boyish, not fully shed his youth.
"Doesn't sound like a lie."
Ian nodded after inspecting the boy's palms—not the calluses of a longtime weapon handler.
"Alright. You're with us."
The few conscious masked men shot betrayal-daggers at him, but with the men's tongue-lashings, all they could do was stare at the dirt.
'Damn it! Supposed to be some backwater village! Safe gig even if small score!'
He inwardly cursed his superiors' vetting. Pure desperation to drown the fear.
They'd shake every crime out of them and hand 'em to the lord's castle.
No murders on record, but violence was routine, theft as natural as breathing—their futures were plain as day.
The Sinclair Count's house had long been notorious for wringing efficiency from convict labor.
"So Rondo scores cheap ingredients by squeezing farms for peanuts?"
"Yeah, not sure on details, but word is the workers got dragged in for unpaid debts. Farms' land might as well have been seized through usury."
"Usury? Isn't there a max interest rate in Sinclair territory?"
"There is?"
"Obviously!"
"Chief's literate and sharp—knows the laws. How're regular folks like us supposed to?"
"Tch. Same everywhere."
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
The boy knew more than Dominic expected.
Illiterate and undereducated, but sharp-eyed with a steel-trap memory.
"Raids on small villages or shops—threatening or beating key people—happened pretty often. Bosses'd brief workers on loot shares and recruit first-come, first-served."
"Routine like that? They've done this a ton."
"And get this—I heard they torched a rival merchant's place on purpose. When was it..."
As if instinctively reading what Dominic wanted, the boy spilled tale after tale of the Rondo Merchant Group's dirty laundry—potential evidence galore.
"But we need proof the Rondo leader directly ordered it all..."
"Oh, got that! Successful jobs earn promissory notes, issued in the Rondo leader's name."
"Nice!"
"But no job details on 'em, from what I hear. Not sure if it'll help..."
"Plenty. Handing out fat notes regular to grunts? No legit explanation for that. Question is, how do we snag one?"
"Well, I've got one on me right now..."
The boy pulled a crumpled sheet from his bosom.