Chapter 57
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: Marcel
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So that's what it looks like when a person's beaten to a pulp.
Even as he was getting turned into ground meat, he couldn't muster the guts to fight back. Watching that made my heart itch a little.
It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly.
I'm not kind enough to feel sympathy for someone who once yanked out my fingernails just to vent his anger.
It just felt a bit embarrassing, knowing he was raging like that for my sake.
"That said, someone must've reported this by now... but it's awfully quiet."
This mess had been going on for a good thirty minutes already, yet no guards had shown up.
If an adventurer had laid a hand on a regular citizen, they'd have come running in under ten minutes to break it up.
But fights between adventurers? They didn't seem to have much reason to get involved.
"Marcel."
"Hm? What?"
"That guy's gonna die."
"Let him."
Marcel said that, but he still wiped the blood off his fists onto the downed adventurer's clothes.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I stepped closer to check on the fallen adventurer.
His nose was caved in.
Teeth scattered and shattered everywhere.
Marcel knew better than to kill him, so I didn't spot anything else unusual.
"You beat him half to death but still held back just enough."
"If I killed every bastard I wanted dead, the world wouldn't turn right. Gotta stop at a reasonable line."
A reasonable line...
"Hm..."
"I wrecked him pretty good, but you think he'll come at us for revenge?"
It was ridiculous that he was only asking now, but I answered anyway.
"Nah. Even if he brings friends, I could handle three of 'em easy."
The reason my nails got pulled wasn't because I was weaker than that adventurer. It was because resisting in that situation would've been trouble.
His weapon, the booze he was chugging, even his visible muscles—all of it screamed bottom-tier for his rank.
Adventurers at that level? In an open space, I could take five.
The three I mentioned was me lowballing myself and highballing him.
Objectively, it was five.
"Got it."
"Plus, you turned him into that just for pulling a few nails. If they've got any common sense, they won't touch us."
Average adventurers were so pathetic, common sense wasn't a given.
Still, even trash like them had to have some learning capacity.
"Alright, time to wrap this up. The owner's gotta get back to business. Can't keep him waiting forever."
"You say that like you get it."
"I was pissed."
"You're lacking common sense too, Marcel."
"Nah, check this out."
Marcel rummaged through his pockets for a while before pulling out a few silver coins and handing them to the tavern owner, who was hiding behind the counter.
The owner glanced back and forth between the coins and Marcel, then forced a smile.
"This place only gets busy at night anyway. That cover it?"
"...Y-Yes! Perfect!"
The owner nodded, but his pupils were shaking like crazy.
Money be damned—he just wanted out of this nightmare ASAP.
Did Marcel read that look on his face?
He turned to me with shameless grin.
"See? It works. Told you I'm not that rude."
Doubt it.
"He just looks scared."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's go."
Marcel shrugged like he had no interest in arguing, then walked over to the downed adventurer and kicked him.
Forced his mouth open and shoved a copper coin between his teeth, whispering something. The adventurer slowly nodded in response.
"What'd you do?"
"Gave the guy I beat up some money. What do you think?"
"A settlement?"
"Yup. He accepted."
Did he really? This world was so barbaric, though, I guess that passed for fine.
Marcel and I left the tavern and wandered the streets, catching up on everything we'd missed, before ducking into a restaurant.
Part of me wanted to crash in my room, but since he'd gotten mad for me like that, spending a bit more time together didn't sound bad. So I held out.
"Shan went too easy on you. He saw your nails getting pulled and just stopped it there?"
"Even Shan couldn't do much. That was a demon subjugation squad gathered under the temple and saint's name. Stir trouble there, and even he'd be in hot water."
Right before my third nail, Shan had shown up to sort things out.
The adventurers interrogating me scattered like roaches when they saw him.
And their ringleader? The same guy Marcel had just turned into meat paste.
Come to think of it, that's weird.
"How'd you even know I got jumped, Marcel?"
"Went to the guild to report finishing the caravan escort. Overheard those idiots blabbing, dragged 'em into the alley, and beat the story out of a couple."
"Damn."
Some rotten luck.
Of all times to run their mouths, right when Marcel got back.
"Well, you got pissed for my sake, so... thanks."
"Nothing to thank me for. Someone looking down on my disciple is the same as looking down on me. I'd have to step in."
"...Disciple? It's only been a few months."
"Huh? Rushed through the lessons and skipped some stuff, so I've got more to teach. You against it?"
"Master."
"Yeah, disciple."
Marcel patted my head.
It didn't feel bad—more like friendly. Made me feel a little better, even.
Lately, things had been rough.
Couldn't vent to anyone.
The whole world seemed out to shove me aside, and trouble followed me everywhere.
I didn't want to get used to feeling like my existence was being denied, but I couldn't shake it either.
In all that, Marcel's way of treating me was a burden... but also a comfort.
"Brought a book for my disciple myself. Wanna see?"
Marcel pulled a book from his bag.
"...What's this?"
"Dunno. But you read some goblin scripture and suddenly handled lightning, right? Figured this might be similar. Grabbed it just in case."
"...Similar how?"
"Goblin book. During the escort, some goblins got rowdy, so I wiped out their village in a huff. Picked this up there. Can't read it myself, so no clue if it's like that scripture you mentioned."
He tossed the stinky book my way like it was nothing.
"You can just give this away?"
"Who else wants a goblin book besides you? Trash to anyone else."
"...Thanks."
"But real value's what the buyer sets, right? You need this book. So you cover the meal."
"...Knew this place seemed pricey."
Still, he thought of me enough to grab it. Meal's the least I could do.
Pockets weren't hurting anyway.
"Order a drink if you want."
"Whole bottle?"
"High-end spot, remember? Cheapest one's a silver per glass. You nuts?"
"Fine, fine."
Marcel grumbled but ordered a glass.
Not the priciest—the second cheapest.
"Heard you made bank this time."
"Yeah, pretty good haul."
I didn't know the exact amount, but enough to guess it was hefty. I nodded while peeling shrimp shells, and Marcel pondered before snatching the ones I'd prepped and continued.
"Made a good chunk myself on the way back. You wanna learn more, right?"
"No end to learning."
"Good. I'll teach what I skipped last time. Hold off on quests for a bit."
"Sure... Was gonna rest anyway. Burned out."
"Makes sense. Not a job for your rank—must've been rough."
Who knew flippant comfort like that existed.
Wait, was he always this type?
"You seem rougher around the edges now."
"...Can't help it. No proper wash, no real rest, trekking ten-plus hours a day across the border. Bound to be grumpy for a while."
"Why the rush?"
"Dunno. If I'd known the schedule, I wouldn't have taken it. Midway, they said it got tight and pushed us."
"You took that?"
"Extra pay."
No choice then.
I stabbed his fork with mine as he went for my plate again.
"Ow."
"Peel your own."
"Shellfish taste best when someone else peels 'em."
"...Can't argue that."
But the guy's buying dinner—stealing my peeled shrimp? Nah.
I stared him down, and Marcel clicked his tongue in regret before chomping his own unpeeled shrimp shells and all.
"Ugh... fine! Gimme those, I'll peel."
The heavy mood boiled into annoyance.
Was this right? But my heart felt a little lighter.