Chapter 14
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Subjugation Team Application
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Ban was dead.
He'd been a bit of a nuisance at times, but he'd told me a ton of useful stuff.
We were friends, in a way.
And now Ban was dead.
Not right in front of my eyes or anything. I didn't even see the body.
But when that rough-looking guy said "he's dead," no one doubted it. Everyone just accepted it.
The cause of death? Bandits.
This wasn't some monster issue. It was the local nobles' job—the ones in charge of law and order—to lead a subjugation force and wipe them out.
Doing adventurer work had sharpened my eye for situations like this. I could see exactly how things would play out.
Recruitment posters for the subjugation team would go up everywhere.
The nobles would lead their private soldiers to the front lines to rack up merits, and the bounty would be hefty.
Everyone seemed more excited about what was coming than mourning Ban's death.
If this is what being an adventurer means, guess I'll have to get used to it.
"Hey, old man."
I slowly worked up the nerve and approached the rough-looking guy, who had finished his report and was resting in the corner.
"Name's Jack."
"Right, Jack. Could you tell me how Ban went down?"
It might've been rude.
Asking about a comrade's death could dredge up memories he'd rather forget.
But since I was Ban's comrade and friend too, I figured it was okay to ask.
Jack looked down at me, beer still in his mouth.
I could feel his gaze even without looking up.
"...So you're the kid he was hanging around with."
"Yeah."
"Everyone at the guild pointed fingers, calling it kid's play for a bronze-rank like him to play mentor."
"Really?"
I hadn't picked up on that vibe.
If even I—who thought I was pretty perceptive—missed it, they must've only talked behind my back.
"Nothing special. Bandits have been rampaging everywhere lately. He just got caught up in it."
"Lately...?"
"What, you from another world or something? Even stray dogs know about it."
Jack gave me a weird look but drained the rest of his beer.
"You asked about his end? It was pretty badass, not like him at all. Bandits swarming from all sides, looked like he was done for, but he broke through the weakest spot and went down swinging. Thanks to that, me and Chesher slipped out that way."
"Slipped out?"
"Yeah. After breaking the encirclement, Chesher got hit by a poison arrow from behind and died. I took one in the arm too—had to cut it off."
I was speechless at how brutal it sounded, so Jack tapped the empty mug on the table to snap me out of it.
"My arm's like this, so I'm retiring from adventuring. You should quit too if you value your life."
"......Sounds familiar."
"From Ban?"
"Yeah."
"It's not just us weirdos. It's what all us silver-rank failures think. Nothing special."
Jack clutched his severed arm stump, stood up, and staggered out of the guild, drunk.
Watching his back, I heard tongues clicking around me.
"He won't last long either."
"Can't be helped. Jack's made enemies everywhere. Sure, it was a commission, but that doesn't make it okay."
"Yeah, aside from that kid, everyone here's got grudges."
"The easy, high-paying jobs are always like that. Everyone steps in it once or twice when they're desperate. Hey, you listening?"
Oh, that was directed at me.
I nodded to show I was, and they shamelessly spilled more.
"Dead guy's dead, and the other's doomed anyway. Ban got hired as a gambling shill and fell into the habit himself. Jack dipped into escort gigs that were really hits."
"Why tell me this?"
"No big reason. You might get upset, but you're a kid busting your ass lately, so here's some advice: never take easy money jobs."
"Thanks for the tip."
"Thanks? Buy us a round then? Cheap beer anyway."
Yeah, that was the real goal.
"Sigh, fine."
Beer here was mostly water anyway—a rip-off that only cost one copper coin a mug.
I'd been grinding commissions non-stop, so three mugs were no sweat.
"Know where to sign up for the subjugation team?"
"Joining up? Smart—rear supply alone gets you some silver. Posters'll be on the request board. Sign up at the desk then."
"Thanks."
Time to leave this city soon.
No real reason to head elsewhere, but it was too rundown and small—no info I wanted.
"Gotta go somewhere with a temple for saint info."
Temples were in bustling spots, not dumps like this.
Building and running them cost money—gods didn't foot the bill—so no temples where cash didn't flow.
"One last big score before I go."
I wouldn't fight on the front lines with the subjugation team.
Supply duty in the rear, helping out.
Even planning that, Ban's death gnawed at me.
Not blind affection like Grandpa Leon, but damn, he'd been good to me.
News like that was enough to rattle anyone.
I left the guild.
No mood to work today.
Swing the sword to clear my head.
Join the team, contribute to the subjugation—that'd be payback for Ban.
Comfort myself with that.
Adventuring meant risking your life, but it hadn't sunk in.
Today, it hit home.
Adventuring was watching someone you laughed and joked with days ago fade away pointlessly.
No amount of romanticizing could hide the harshness.
Back at the inn, quick meal, then out the back door with my sword.
Swinging it, stray thoughts cluttered my mind—the blade felt duller than usual.
Stomach churning today.
Why do the people good to me always end up like this?
Honestly, I resented them.
All of them, no one specific.
"Huu..."
Grandpa Leon was blindly kind.
Said I reminded him of his granddaughter—but his wise eyes weren't weak or foolish enough to see me as a replacement.
His warm words and actions made me think maybe life like this wasn't so bad.
But then the choices popped up, mocking my hopes, and "attack."
I hadn't wanted to grip the sword or strike Grandpa.
If I hadn't yelled, it would've been a disaster.
After that, he was still kind but drew a clear line.
But he knew I'd die on the streets in a week without him.
So he trained me stricter.
Once I could survive out there,
I left him behind.
Adventuring life here started.
Without Ban's help, I'd still be fumbling with odd jobs, clueless and lonely.
I give off a gloomy vibe—people don't approach unless provoked.
And if they do, it's usually to pick a fight.
Ban didn't.
Whatever his motives, he was the first since Grandpa to treat me so well. I opened up.
Sure, he flipped after eye contact, choking and slamming me—but that was an accident. I let it go.
Then he just... died.
"Why do the people good to me keep drifting away?"
Ban's death didn't make me sob, but tears blurred my vision.
I roughly wiped my eyes with my sleeve. Nothing changed.
I didn't make a sound.
Grown man wailing? Embarrassing.
"Hic... "
More wronged than sad.
Frustrated to the brink.
I hadn't done anything wrong, so why me?
Why this suffering at all?
My aches hurt worse suddenly.
What's the point of swinging a sword I've barely held? Why dumped in this crap world?
I'd lived ordinarily, never a life deserving praise, but not evil enough for this.
I set the sword down.
And collapsed.
Just cry today, skip work, rest.
One day off turned into two.
Eyes puffy, back to routine.
Stepping out after two days, news hit: Jack found headless in an alley, and subjugation team recruiting.
Straight to the desk to sign up.
Not rear supply.
Front lines.