Chapter 78
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Leaving the Capital
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The sequence of events had unfolded like this.
Helen presented the body of the demon she'd hunted in the sewers as evidence, framing it as "a commotion caused by the demon summoned by the devil worshippers we'd previously subjugated, who had been hiding out."
I knew it, Helen knew it, and even the guild that issued the request knew it—this wasn't truly over. But we all had to act like it was resolved on the surface.
The people's unrest was boiling over, sharp and volatile, so they'd opened the national treasury in a rush to host a festival and calm the masses.
Such a festival had to proceed without incident.
Everyone knew, but no one could speak up.
"Hey."
Helen approached me after unleashing what was practically a massacre at the peer tournament, casually wiping the blood from her hands with a handkerchief as if it were nothing.
"Yes...?"
"That doll. No matter how I think about it, it gives me the creeps."
"Yeah."
Even though she'd just come back from gutting people and jumped straight into a completely unrelated topic like she couldn't care less, I couldn't say a word against it.
The unease hadn't faded for me either, days after the incident.
A dice roll of 16, even with a gold-rank adventurer by my side.
Even after hunting the tentacle demon, no matter how low my contribution was, no reward came.
It meant we hadn't resolved whatever that dice roll corresponded to.
This world was a game, and the game system always flowed simply and honestly.
For example, even if I'd massacred innocent people, the system lowered my villain rank simply because they were devil worshippers.
The system was that uncompromising.
Yet it only gave rewards for clearing my false accusation, not for the dice roll from encountering the demon.
It meant we hadn't truly resolved it.
In other words...
It wasn't the tentacle demon's dice roll—it was the doll's.
It started as suspicion back then, but as time passed, it solidified into certainty.
The doll—or more precisely, whatever was behind it.
That thing was the owner of the 16 dice roll.
"The demon was openly protective of that doll. I thought it meant a higher-class demon with more gravitas than the tentacle one. But the more I think about it, the weirder it gets."
"Pardon?"
"I've hunted demons dozens of times, and I've never seen one show affection like that to any existence. Even if it's a higher-class demon, they obey—they don't express affection."
"Hmm..."
"It's so off that I reported it to the guild... but I have a bad feeling."
"Are you going to investigate separately then?"
"Nah? Why would I do something that dangerous? I'm just telling you to prepare—I'm grabbing my silver-rank qualification and bouncing."
"...Pardon?"
"Looking back, I smashed that doll on impulse because it made me uneasy. In my adventuring career, that was only the eleventh time I'd felt that level of dread."
"That's a lot."
"Adventuring is a job where you put your life on the line, so no matter how skilled you are, those creepy, uneasy moments come once in a while. And when they pile up, even the skilled ones end up dead regardless of talent."
"Realistic."
"That's why I trust my gut and strike first when I'm uneasy—I've seen too many skilled adventurers hesitate and die."
Was it cowardly for a gold-rank adventurer, or wise? My expression turned ambiguous, and Helen shrugged while extending her hand to me.
I handed her the canteen, and she took a few gulps as if it were natural, then stared at me intently.
"Anyway, getting more tangled up would just bring headaches, so we're leaving fast. Say your goodbyes to Shan and Marcel ahead of time—we're out right after I win."
"...Okay."
The finals were tomorrow, so it felt sudden, but it was still leagues better than a last-minute notice.
"Then I'll head out."
"Yeah, yeah. Oh, Shan and Marcel were picking out gifts for you—play dumb and accept them nicely."
"...If you hadn't said anything, I would've been genuinely touched."
"...They were being so obvious about liking you and preparing something, and you missed it? Are you the nightmare type who's oblivious to kindness but hyper-sensitive to hostility?"
Helen and I stared at each other in disbelief, then turned away without another word.
Our relationship had warmed a bit since that last request, but she was still hard to understand.
Even if I was better at sensing malice than goodwill, if it was as obvious as she said, would I really have missed it?
I wasn't that oblivious.
Having that perceptiveness was how I'd survived this long.
Back when my skills were still lacking...
I'd taken on the requests others avoided.
Everyone wanted the good ones, so unless you were strong or influential, they went in rotation.
But I was a moody, unskilled young girl.
My turn never came, and I didn't wait for it anyway.
I picked the ones everyone shunned. At first, people picked fights just for me being there, but they started seeing me as "the girl who clears out all the backed-up crap jobs," so they stopped bothering me—though they didn't help either.
I read that they didn't welcome me and quickly humbled myself to earn a living and survive.
What else is sharp instincts if not that?
With those keen senses, I knew Shan and Marcel cared for me, but I hadn't picked up on any hints of gifts.
It wasn't disappointment.
I actually felt relieved.
They'd already given me more than I deserved; another gift would just weigh heavier on my conscience, to the point of fear.
The more I thought of what I'd received, the heavier my steps grew as I dragged myself back to our usual clearing.
I figured they'd be sparring as always, but they weren't there.
Maybe just stepped away briefly.
Thinking that, I sat under a tree and lost myself in thought.
"I'm leaving tomorrow, huh."
I thought the capital would be safe.
But incidents happened wherever a player's character was, as if it were inevitable.
That terrified me.
My own mishaps scared me plenty, but the fear of dragging down the whole city was worse.
I'd already seen it once.
Whether it was truly my fault, I couldn't say—but with the dice appearing before my eyes, denying the connection was hard.
That weighed on my heart.
The injustice and frustration of it not being my fault.
Yet the guilt and self-loathing that maybe it was gnawed at me relentlessly.
"Better this way."
I didn't want to burden people, and I wanted to grow strong enough to escape this hellish situation. Missing a perfect chance like now meant no next time.
It was simply time.
Deep down, I'd known it for ages.
I couldn't rely on those two forever.
"Now that I think about it, giving you junk as a parting gift feels off..."
It was worth more than most jewels, but it lacked heart.
I regretted not processing it first, but no medicine fixed regrets—dwelling now would just breed more.
Frustrated, I drew my sword and swung wildly.
It wasn't Grandpa's military swordsmanship or Shan and Marcel's techniques.
Just frustration—sloppy, dull swings that couldn't even slice a leaf.
That was my true self.
Not suited for this world.
Back home, I'd argued words but never fists.
Murder? I'd never even wrung a chicken's neck, so an untrained sword from my own hand couldn't be sharp.
Exposing my real self after so long eased the frustration just a bit. I wiped sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, catching my breath briefly.
Then I buried that self deep again, swinging the sharp sword I'd learned to survive here a few times.
And etched that sensation into my palm once more.
Even if I was strong among peers despite my meager skill...
I knew true respect started at silver rank, so I dared not get cocky.
"When I'm strong enough not to burden anyone anymore."
Then my heart would finally rest easy.
Only then could I escape thoughts like these.
I sheathed my sword, leaned against the tree, and dozed off.
How much time passed?
The two I'd been waiting for approached, fidgeting awkwardly.
"...What's with that? All fidgety?"
"...That obvious?"
"Super obvious...?"
Stunned by Shan's question, I answered, and they both clicked their tongues in unison, then showed me something.
Gloves and a hair tie.
Even I could tell they were high-end at a glance—no guessing the price.
"What... is this...?"
The sudden gift flustered me.
Helen had tipped me off, but I hadn't believed her a bit, so the shock lingered.
"This looks... really expensive...?"
"It is. We sold what you gave us and bought these in that price range."
"...You could've done whatever with that, but... you sold it for these?"
And gave them back to me?
My mind spun, questions swirling.
It lacked heart, sure, but it was valuable—that's why they gave it.
And they used it like this?
"Long hair gets in the way when swinging a sword. If you're not cutting it, better tie it up."
Marcel approached awkwardly, fumbling to tie my hair into a single ponytail.
It was sloppy, but you could tell he'd tried.
"This your best shot?"
We were both awkward, so I grumbled pointlessly.
Irked, Marcel flicked my forehead hard. I clutched it and crouched in pain as Shan forced the gloves into my hand.
"You sweat a lot when tense. Regular gloves slip then—you can't wield properly. You need real ones."
"...Th-thanks. Ow..."
Rubbing my forehead, I stood and looked at them.
They'd prepared these knowing I'd leave soon.
Guilt hit for always receiving without reciprocating; I averted my eyes, and Marcel grinned mischievously, patting my shoulder.
"Take care."
"...That's normal for you saying it with that creepy smile..."
"Gotta say it 'cause I know you won't with Helen's twisted personality."
His words were snide, but the awkward air eased.
"You two take care too."
"It's not forever—we might cross paths on a request soon. No point dragging out goodbyes and feeling awkward later."
We all nodded at Shan's words.
They were the real deal; barring disasters, they'd be fine.
I believed that.
So when I could pull my weight under Helen's guidance...
We'd meet again for sure.
We chatted a bit.
I had to warn them about the eerie movements in the capital—be careful.
The talk meandered as the sun set, turning into a seated drinking session before we knew it.
"Why are you lot drinking here?"
Helen returned post-tournament, baffled at us boozing in the clearing instead of a tavern, chuckling dryly before squeezing in.
The two looked uncomfortable but said nothing; the drinks went on for hours.
Marcel got rowdy first and drunk—Helen subdued him easily. Surprisingly, Shan was next.
He passed out stone-cold without dramatics, ending the night.
Helen and I hauled them one by one to their inn rooms, then returned to the clearing.
"Got your gifts?"
"Yeah..."
"Told you."
"You did."
"Anyway, we've said our pieces, so we're out tomorrow."
"But where are we going?"
I realized we hadn't set a destination and asked. Helen drained the last booze and eyed me.
"If you tag along half-assed now, you'll die pointlessly. First, we'll hole up in a hunters' cabin in the mountains and train you."
It reminded me of life with Shan.
Similar routine?
"I value real combat, but I'm not throwing in an unprepared rookie."
Her crimson eyes fixed on me; I shivered faintly.
No malice, but fear hit anyway.
"One warning: I'll drill you till you think death's mercy."
"Better than actual death."
"Hm! Knew I liked you."
Helen grinned.
Sun rose; Helen entered the finals early, skewering her foe at the start and claiming victory.
Watching, I saw her opponent wasn't weak—Hector's level. Absurd.
With her silver plate won, Helen fetched me, skipping goodbyes to hangover-bound Shan and Marcel, and we fled the capital swiftly.
Rushed farewell, but we'd said enough yesterday—no regrets.
And so, one month after leaving the capital...
We'd become the boss and second-in-command of some mountain bandit lair.
"...What."
Absurd, but
that's how it happened.