The Monkey Who Wants to Be a Legion Commander
Postia Archipelago
"You want to become the 7th Lord?"
Rosaria asked again, as if she couldn't believe her ears.
I gave a careless nod.
"PWAHAHAHA—!"
Covering her mouth, she burst out laughing.
Then again, who could blame her?
A Lordship was a title granted only to the seven strongest beings in the entire Demon Realm.
So when a human strolls in and declares he's going to become one of those seven, is it any surprise she'd laugh?
To put it in perspective, it was about like this: a monkey suddenly appearing before a human and announcing that it, too, intends to become a Legion Commander.
"You've got quite a talent for jokes."
Wiping away her tears, she smiled.
"Does it sound like a joke?"
When I said that with a perfectly straight face, the expression on Rosaria's face began to shift, slowly.
"You're serious? A human?"
"I don't think you're in any position to talk, considering you couldn't land a single scratch on me."
"...If it weren't for my promise to the Archlord, you'd be dead."
"You couldn't kill me if you tried."
At my flat, unwavering words, her pupils trembled—just slightly.
"Fine... go on, stay arrogant. So tell me, what's your reason for wanting to become a Lord?"
"Call it a sense of responsibility."
The easiest way to clear a game is to walk straight into the enemy's den.
And if you gnaw away at it, slowly and bit by bit, the whole thing eventually starts to wobble from the inside.
"Well then, by all means, do your best, human. I'm retiring—this has stopped being fun."
Black smoke began curling up from Rosaria's body, and before I knew it, she had transformed into a bat.
—Let's hope we don't run into each other next time.
With those parting words, she slipped out through the window.
—Whew.
Rosaria fled upward into the sky.
She turned her head to glance back at the upscale inn she'd been staying at.
What a humiliating farce this had turned into.
All she'd wanted was to hunt a human who looked delicious. That was it.
And instead, the target had turned out to be a monster leagues beyond the boundaries of humankind.
For the first time in her life, she had felt fear—fear of a human.
He had blocked every one of her attacks, and he was the one who'd killed the mighty 7th Lord.
She'd gone out hunting and nearly become the prey herself.
'...He meant it.'
Rosaria replayed the scene in her mind.
—You couldn't kill me if you tried.
There had been no exaggeration in it whatsoever. Just a plain, matter-of-fact statement.
And yet, she could be certain of one thing.
It was no empty bluff.
'A human becoming a Lord...'
Unprecedented, certainly. And yet, somehow, she had a feeling that if anyone could actually pull it off... it might just be that man.
With that thought, she soared freely into the open sky.
The next day arrived.
Most people had no memory of the sleep incident from the day before.
"Lord Gerard, thank you once more for saving my life. We'll be on our way now."
Standing in front of the inn, Maria offered a formal bow.
"Yes, and though our time together was brief, I enjoyed it as well."
"If you ever find yourself with the time, do pay a visit to the Brielton family."
"I will. You have my word."
And with that, Maria departed.
Only Seina and I were left behind.
"Gerard, that woman yesterday—what she did to you."
She'd been waiting to bring it up, and pounced the moment we were alone.
Seina was the only one who remembered anything about yesterday.
I nodded.
"I want to get stronger. This way, I'll just keep being dead weight, won't I?"
"Seina, you're already doing more than enough."
"Don't lie. What have I even done?"
"You might think you're of no use to me right now. But on the journey ahead, there will be a great deal that only you can do."
Seina was a werewolf—she grew stronger with every breath she took.
Even at this very moment, she was steadily becoming more powerful.
That was also the reason she ate so much.
Her level, for one, kept climbing as proof of it.
She might be weak for the moment, but one day she would grow strong enough to trade blows with a Legion Commander.
"Gerard, do you really mean that?"
"I do. There's no need to be impatient."
At my words, Seina's mood seemed to lift, and a faint smile crossed her face.
I suppose this is what raising a child must feel like.
"So, where are we headed now?"
Seina asked as she climbed onto the carriage.
"We're heading for the Postia Archipelago."
The Postia Archipelago. The capital of the Bijanderk Empire and a great metropolis—one of the most densely populated places in the world.
It was also where the Council of Lords would be convened in a few days' time.
"We've arrived."
Four days of travel later, we reached the Postia Archipelago.
The great city was, in a word, the very embodiment of chaos and vibrancy.
The crowds weren't just packed—they were on the verge of bursting at the seams, and large shops lined the streets, their wares displayed in eye-catching arrays.
"Milord! We just got in a fine shipment—come have a look before you go!"
"Think those scrawny little legs of yours can carry you far? We've got a sturdy one all saddled up for you—step right over here!"
Merchants of every stripe were hawking their goods at full volume.
I'd assumed a great capital would be above this sort of thing, but it was even worse than the backwaters.
After all, people who make the trip to the capital tend to open their purses a little wider.
'Still, first things first—we need a room.'
We headed straight for the inn without so much as a backward glance.
Sightseeing could wait.
-Ding.
"Thirty shillings. No money, no entry."
The moment we stepped into the inn, a burly black man with a cigarette dangling from his lips named our price.
Without hesitation, I pulled a single gold coin from my coat and flipped it at him.
In this world, you never need to waste words.
Money could solve anything, in the end.
"Keep the change."
"Well, well—turns out we've got ourselves a very generous guest, hmm?"
Grinning to reveal a mouthful of pearly whites, the man stubbed out his cigarette.
"Keys are right here. For what you paid, maybe I ought to carry you up to the room myself?"
"...I'll pass."
"Enjoy yourselves, then."
The inn was every bit as clean as its steep price suggested.
Being the capital, they clearly put real care into the place.
We dumped our things in the room and headed back outside.
We had a full day of breathing room before the Council of Lords, after all.
Until then, I figured we'd enjoy a little leisure.
"Gerard, look over there!"
How long had we been walking? Where Seina was pointing, a crowd of people had gathered in a circle around something.
It looked like some kind of event, and curiosity got the better of me—I drifted toward it.
"Come one, come all! The one and only One-Punch Wager! The winner takes home a full TEN TIMES the entry fee! A once-in-a-lifetime chance! Seize your shot at turning your life around, folks!"
'Ten times?'
For a moment I thought I'd misheard.
That would mean staking ten gold and walking away with a hundred—and frankly, I didn't believe it.
"I'll take part—!"
"One challenger down! Anyone else?"
"Count me in—!"
"Me too!"
"Right then, that's thirty shillings from each of you!"
Arms crossed, I watched the game unfold.
I was genuinely curious what form it would take.
"The rules are simple! All you have to do is trade punches with our friend Arnold here—three rounds each."
He was a man of thoroughly unremarkable appearance.
No—truth be told, he leaned toward scrawny.
At the sight of him, the participants began to snort.
"KHAHAHA—! You want me to trade punches with that little shrimp? I almost feel bad for him."
"KHAHA—! Well, what do you know. Free money, just like that."
One after another, they shouted their confidence.
"Alright, let the game begin!"
A muscular man stepped up in front of the scrawny fellow.
"Heh heh, go ahead—hit me first."
"Then don't mind if I do."
-CRUNCH!
"GWAAAAGH—!"
The muscular man crumpled forward where he stood.
He foamed at the mouth, eyes rolled back in his head.
"—!"
The crowd stirred at the sight.
"Th-that's a mana user!"
"Damn it, this is rigged! Mana's supposed to be a knight's game!"
"Now, now, quiet down everyone! I never said anything about not using mana! Anyone else care to try their luck?"
"You're joking! Who'd challenge that?"
"Tch, damn it!"
And so the crowd began to scatter, one by one.
Without hesitation, I stepped forward.
"I'll give it a try."
"Hey, don't bother. Those two have been fleecing people out of their money like this for ages."
A passing passerby tried to stop me, but I raised a hand as if to say it was fine.
"Oho! A brave one. You have the look of a nobleman about you—are you certain this is wise?"
"It's fine. I'll stake ten gold."
"—!"
The man began looking me up and down.
"House rules: we don't accept knights or mages. Do either of those apply to you?"
"Neither. Just an ordinary noble."
The word "noble" slipped out of my mouth with ease now.
So this is how Ripley's syndrome begins, I thought.
"Hmm."
The man put on a hesitant expression, then glanced once at Arnold.
Apparently, he trusted the little guy completely.
"Very well—!"
I stepped up in front of the man.
He flashed me a greasy smile and looked me over as if to ask whether I was really sure about this.
"Strike first."
"Then I shan't hold back."
-CLANG!
The bastard's face went pale with shock.
"Hit me again."
"I—I forfeit."
At his lightning-fast surrender, everyone around us wore baffled expressions.
That day, I walked away with a hundred gold in profit.
If ever there was a moment for the phrase "money begets money," this was it.
And then, the next day.
The long-awaited Council of Lords began.