Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Sylvia (2)
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"What should we do with the stuff you picked up...?"
"You're helping out. Thanks."
"Just now, seeing that, how could I stand by...?"
"Hm?"
"Ah, nothing."
The purple-eyed, kind young man was helping me out.
He didn't look like the type to bend a knee easily, but watching him earnestly lend a hand was quite the sight.
"Hm... Your pouch ripped, so nowhere to put it."
I shot a cold glare at the delinquents surrounding Sylvia protectively while aiming their blades at me.
"..."
"H-Here... use this."
"I just beat down your boss or big bro or whatever, and you're offering me kindness?"
"That's..."
"If you hadn't shown this side of yourselves, you'd be getting double the beating."
"...?"
I wanted to make sure none of these delinquents could use an arm for the rest of their lives.
But seeing how they rushed to protect Sylvia the moment she fell...
And how they were gauging my reaction before stepping up... I decided to let it slide.
'Doesn't seem like they gathered for any ulterior motives.'
I might enjoy eyeing Aster plenty, but Sylvia was set up as the protagonist from the start.
She'd look plain among absolute beauties, but she had a distinct charm to her features.
They weren't the type with shady intentions, that much was clear.
Still, they weren't fit to hang around Sylvia. She was above scraping by with punks like these.
"Forget it. Move aside."
As I mulled over the one redeeming thing about her, the person in question finally got to her feet.
I politely asked if she wouldn't help pick things up too.
She clenched her fists with a look like she was about to lose her mind from frustration.
"What're you gonna do, clench those fists?"
"You...!"
"If you're weak, bow your head. What if I were some psycho killer? You don't even hide your emotions?"
"......"
The romance novel protagonist.
As I gathered the silver coins while racking my brain...
I found myself hoping, just a little, that this woman would turn out okay.
In the original story, she'd romance folks in the palace, flirt with the tyrant emperor, live happily ever after wherever she went.
But with me as a new variable, things had gone south for her.
Of course, you can't blame a butterfly's wing flap for a typhoon.
It might have started with me, but I didn't feel responsible enough to own it.
So, I'd help in moderation.
Just the right amount. Verbally, at least.
At her age, her basics seemed solid enough. She just needed to get her head on straight.
I pondered a moment, tossed back a swig of booze, and opened my mouth.
"Your skills are that pathetic, so why pick up a sword?"
"What... would you know."
"I know you're weak."
"You bastard...!"
"How dare you, to big bro!"
"You go around picking fights without even knowing your opponent's strength?"
I'd figured the delinquents would lose their cool.
As they moved to step forward, Sylvia raised a hand to calm them and asked me in a low voice.
"You're a knight."
"Yeah, got followers."
"The knight of the guy next to you?"
"This guy's just a gambler who blindly tagged along after me."
"M-Me?"
The refined man searched for a retort, then realized it fit the situation perfectly and hung his head.
"A gambler? Don't nobles gamble too?"
"The ones who have it gamble more."
"Ugh..."
Sylvia dropped her gaze, words failing her.
Or maybe she'd keenly sensed that talking to a drunk like me was a waste of time.
She had zero interest in me as a drunkard, that much was sure.
But she seemed plenty interested in the fight.
Thud.
"Please... guide me. You're the strongest... person I've ever seen."
"If I were crazy, you'd stick a knife in my back the second I turned."
"You're not that kind of person."
Bowing her head and prostrating out of nowhere... I was starting to get confused.
It fit Sylvia's straightforward personality, but she was the type who wouldn't embarrass herself in front of others, even on pain of death.
Why go this far?
"I... have someone I need to kill."
Ah, revenge.
The simplest driving force that moved people: revenge.
That explained the disappearance of her fancy dress.
Revenge was good, in some ways.
You grew stronger without realizing it, experienced the world relentlessly.
But revenge...
Wasn't something to pursue with half-hearted resolve.
"What if I were that guy?"
"...!"
"Pathetic."
If Aster had begged me tearfully the day before buying me, would I have helped?
No way. I helped and showed favor because she was a woman with strong will.
'Sylvia's softer than Aster.'
She seemed shallow to my eyes.
Immature as a person, very shallow.
She had to be twenty or twenty-one by now.
Her eyes screamed "troubled childhood" at first glance.
Even with a backstory, leaning on soft punks like these offered zero hope.
If she truly wanted revenge, she'd go grind in a dungeon, shitting herself through near-death fights.
"No talent for the sword, no proper training either. Can someone like that pull off revenge?"
"........"
"You fight punks for 'real combat experience'? That's your real combat? Leading punks around is revenge? How's that going for you?"
But even a shallow pond could deepen.
No one was born with an ocean inside.
I adjusted my wording, gauging the intensity based on Sylvia's personality ahead of time.
I like strong-willed people. That's why I followed Aster—because she had a strong spirit.
Drip, drip...
"..."
"Is crying what you should be doing right now?"
"Then... what should I do?"
"What're you waiting for? Run. I'm not showing mercy from here on."
"What...?"
"Here."
I drew my sword and strode toward her.
Then swung at the delinquents blocking my path.
A chunk of the delinquent's clothes sliced clean off.
"Next won't just be clothes."
I nodded, and they finally parted.
They reddened their eyes and reached for weapons, but none dared draw.
In front of Sylvia, I said.
"Alright, pretend I'm your revenge target. You prepared somewhat, but it didn't work, sword broke. What's your move?"
"Ugh."
"You got up, but I trip you. Get up quick and run."
"I'm... doing that."
"Can't? Can't even get revenge, gonna die instead?"
I slashed her shoulder.
Red blood sprayed, a bit splattering on the wall.
"Think with what you've got. What now?"
"I..."
"Here comes the ankle slice. What do you do?"
I cut her heel, then her calf.
"Think with what you've got, boss."
"...!"
Sylvia looked up.
Then eyed the men around her, veins bulging on their foreheads, unable to draw their weapons.
"Everyone... run..."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Oh ho, saving your underlings? What a boss! They can't hear, shout louder!!"
"You idiots can't win, so at least run, you morons!"
I deliberately raised my voice and asked again.
Sylvia bellowed at the top of her lungs.
Hearing "run," the delinquents hesitated, then one bolted.
Then three more, then two.
Just like that, the chaotic back alley fell silent in an instant.
"Sending your underlings running isn't throwing away what you've got?"
"......"
"Well, some fools didn't run."
I eyed the men stepping forward, weapons drawn, ready to protect Sylvia.
They all wore expressions of resolved death. Not bad.
"You guys..."
"Boss, I'll hold him off. You go first."
"Kuh...!"
"Didn't expect you'd order them to run, honestly. Well, this works."
I sheathed my sword, sensing things had resolved nicely.
The refined man behind me, ready to block, looked flustered. So did Sylvia's "subordinates."
I'd expected Sylvia to order a full assault.
Then the insincere ones would flee.
The loyal ones would stand and die.
Purifying the bad apples around her, as planned.
But Sylvia... must've had some emotional shift. She ordered them to run.
A pretty good call I hadn't considered.
"The ones who just left? Not yours. Those guys? Your real crew."
Now I said what I'd wanted to.
"The moment you lose a fight, no time to spill emotions on the ground—get up."
Sylvia clutched her shoulder and calf.
"Run or charge to die. Pick one. Half-assed living gets you nothing."
If I were truly insane, I'd have chopped off limbs and sold the torso on the black market.
The world was full of real crazies like that.
"Ditch what you don't have. Why drag around guys too scared to step up?"
Judging people starts with looking at the trustworthy ones.
She probably hadn't met any reliable sorts, so she'd gone astray.
Now only trustworthy subordinates remained—not punks anymore. Should be fine.
I'd given her a decent mental tune-up. Now she'd ponder true strength deeper, live harder. Not just back-alley boss level.
Sylvia rubbed her teary eyes and nodded.
"You get what I'm saying?"
"That I was young and foolish?"
"Good, you catch on."
I gave her sincere advice.
"You've found reliable guys—get strong openly with them. Here too."
I tapped my chest with a finger.
"Ah..."
Don't fool around with punks doing shady stuff—get strong the moderate way.
Honestly wanted to say "Here's the address, check it out." But that'd ruin the vibe.
"And remember this: Never keep guys obsessed with women, black-hearted bastards, or boozehounds."
"...?"
Gulp, gulp.
I downed the last of my booze, leaving my final, most vital life advice.
Talked so much my throat was parched to death.
Everyone stared in stunned silence, so I scratched my head.
No clue what those looks meant.
"And the Rose Knight? If you're hunting him, dig into the Black Rose organization."
"You... knew him...? Black... Rose?"
"Head hurts—don't ask more."
"...Yes."
I dropped that tidbit last, fighting off yawns as I eyed Sylvia.
She looked impressed, but I had nothing more to say.
I squatted, waved her off lazily.
Any more advice, and my tiny brain would strike.
"Go on. I'll get the silver coins."
"......Thank you, truly."
"Thanks? Tch, your boss is bleeding—help her up already."
"Ah, y-yeah! Boss..."
"Boss... ugh... we're sorry."
"Idiots."
Showed them the wall—now they'll live harder.
I hoped Sylvia lived well from here. That was it.
No more entanglements, let her finish her revenge her way, become back-alley boss or whatever.
Yeah, that was it.
Sylvia's the protagonist who grows through trials. Me playing moderate trial once? Fine.
'Miss Aster.'
I just wanted to hurry back to our cute miss who pulled me from that other world, brag about my earnings.
I kept picking up coins.
The refined guy beside me sparkled his purple eyes, helping eagerly.
Obviously angling for a reward, so I planned to shut up and bolt.
No desire to get more involved, too tired anyway.
But then.
"...?"
"Came for the commotion, and here's my little brother picking up coins?"
A woman appeared, brazenly kicking my silver coins aside.
With a massive guard detail, no less.
Ah, come on. Why me?
"S-Sis?"
"I really don't have a hobby of beating other people's family..."
"Running off to play with drunks? Imperial dignity hits the dirt."
I seriously pondered why my luck sucked today.
Then a word I shouldn't hear reached my ears.
'Imperial?'
I looked up. Purple eyes, high-class dress amplifying my dread—a woman stood there.
"Lock up that drunk first. I'll handle my brother's education."
Thinking back, romance novel empire.
One imperial trait stood out.
Purple eyes.
I shot a betrayed glare at the refined man beside me.
Seeing his flustered "purple eyes."
I firmly sensed bad luck had glued itself to me today.
'What an odd guy.'
She'd pegged him as a sloppy drunk, but his depths had no bottom.
His skill was beyond measure—Sylvia endlessly compared in her mind.
Even pitting him against every strong person she knew, long and short, she couldn't gauge him.
And that wasn't even his full strength.
She clutched her throbbing head.
"Guess I learned too much today."
"Boss, couldn't we ask that guy for some kind of help?"
"Seemed worried about me, but not the type to step up for my sake. Just... a peculiar person."
She felt endless envy for someone, too.
What would it feel like to have a backer like that?
Full of openings, yet chillingly sharp, with awe-inspiring skill.
Guess she needed to tread carefully around drunks from now on.
Learned a ton.
Felt like she'd been splashing in the shallows till now. She had a bit of a grasp on what true power was.
Even touched info she'd chase a lifetime without reaching.
Her goal was crystal now.
"I need to get stronger."
And, as Guro hoped.
She reaffirmed her purpose, moved forward positively.
Burying a twinge of regret deep in her chest.
Imperial capital, beneath the palace-adjacent underground prison.
In this dank, musty place, booze stench now mixed in.
"No! I didn't do shit!!"
The man rattling the bars like he'd break them earned curses from the guard.
Yet drunk as he was, he had a silver tongue for arguments, flipping the guard's lid with mere words.
"Lady Aster Elisia, correct?"
"Yes........."
"What's your relation to that man."
And then.
"Shut it!!"
"Born guilty! Poor get jailed!"
"Argh! Another lunatic!"
As other cells erupted with the convict's bellows.
"My... knight........."
Aster, arms full of jelly, hid her flushed face with both hands.