The Strangler's Greed
The bandits. Five rogues—or rather, cosplayers—slowly circled around me and my contractor, radiating a subtle killing intent. Each of them gripped a long white club-like object. Their bodies were completely covered from head to toe in brown robes, making it nearly impossible to guess their genders. But there was one among them whose gray tail poked out conspicuously from beneath the hem of their robe. For some reason, that one felt far too familiar.
I quickly spoke to the bandit who was frantically trying to tuck their tail back inside the robe.
"...When you said you were going to the bathroom, was that actually...?"
"...."
My contractor stared at the rogue with an expression of utter disbelief as they silently twirled the club and loosened their wrist. A faint sense of betrayal shimmered in those trembling eyes.
So she had stuck close to my contractor only to slip away using the bathroom as an excuse? What a ridiculous cat.
"...?"
"Rogue?"
"Who are you calling...?"
"Me?"
"...."
The entire group of rogue cosplayers tilted their heads in unison at the word "rogue." Among them, only one stood out—the one whose hood had an unusually prominent bump at the crown. Without any visible reaction, they stared at me from within the shadowed darkness of their robe, their eyes glowing with a faint golden light.
I refused to back down and glared right back at the insolent traitor. That was when Senior Regina Gura's voice rang out.
The second test is a defensive combat evaluation! You can think of it as a test to confirm your familiar's ability to protect allies!
'Protect, huh...'
I was extremely proficient at killing, running away, and hiding. But fighting while protecting someone else? That was something I was disgustingly bad at. I was the demon who had been disqualified from the escort knight class, with a pathetic 10% success rate on escort quests in Terraforming.
Still, I wasn't all that worried.
Because right now, the world's greatest escort specialist—who had kept my pathetic life going for decades in a ruined world where death was far closer than life—was sticking to my contractor like glue.
The very person who had turned an ordinary black company employee like me into an immortal monster that couldn't die even if it wanted to. My rival, and sometimes friend.
'Kkachi.'
Kkyu...!
Kkachi responded to my call instantly. Unlike its usual adorable cries, this one carried the wild spirit of a bird of prey. It was incredibly reassuring.
Was this the power of a million horsepower? What incredible testosterone. If female crows saw this, they might faint on the spot.
I sent my thoughts to the alpha crow, who had let out such a solemn cry, while pointing at the bandits with my beak.
'Can you see those weird humans wearing rags over there right now?'
Kkyu. It could see them clearly.
'Those things are currently targeting our benefactor, the contractor. They're incredibly insolent and shameless bastards.'
Kkyuu.... The low, rumbling cry showed it agreed. The subtle killing intent mixed into the sound made it clear that it intended to thoroughly mess at least one of them up.
'This might be a little dangerous.'
Normally, my partner crow was harmless, cooing cutely and acting spoiled. But the moment danger appeared, that gentle attitude flipped 180 degrees. Anyone who saw it turn a raid boss the size of a high-rise building—one that would take a hundred survivors everything they had just to barely defeat—into minced meat in an instant would never call Kkachi cute again.
That's how dangerous this kid was. And now that it had received the Goddess's secret patch on top of that, the current Kkachi was nothing short of an unknown hazardous entity.
To protect the precious lives of these rogue cosplayers, I gave Kkachi an order.
'Don't kill them.'
But if they so much as touched a hair on my contractor's head, it was fine to hurt them a little. Since there were many observers, showing them what happened when someone messed with a demon's contractor wouldn't be a bad example to set.
Kkyu! It understood.
What a good, reliable kid. I'll leave my contractor's protection to you.
'As for me...'
I'll deal with that traitor.
And so.
The test ends if the adventurer is attacked by the bandits three times or if ten minutes pass!
"Attacked, huh. So that means they're going to whack the contractor with those weird sticks?"
As I said that and quietly looked at Regina Gura, she flinched for a moment before speaking in a hurry, like a child making excuses.
According to her explanation, the white clubs the bandit actors were holding were made from Sugar Tree, a native plant that grew in the White Zone. They were apparently test equipment specially crafted for the exam.
'Like the sugar glass they use for special props in dramas or movies?'
I couldn't contain my curiosity and picked one up myself after hearing that they would instantly turn to powder on impact and wouldn't hurt at all.
"It's surprisingly light."
'Feels similar to styrofoam.'
The difference from styrofoam was that it didn't crumble no matter how hard you gripped it. And then—
—Whoosh!
"...You can endure this...?"
Even though I had swung it with full force, the club didn't break and remained perfectly intact.
'Is it really okay to get hit with this?'
Feeling doubtful, I looked at Senior Regina Gura. Without a word, she took the club from me and then...
—Thwack!
She brought it down hard on the head of the record keeper, who had been watching me with sparkling eyes.
"Eek."
The record keeper looked startled by the sudden ambush. Are you okay...? At that strength, blood should be gushing from their head. Strangely, though, they didn't seem to be in much pain.
"Record keeper, tell Raven junior how it felt to get hit with the test equipment!"
Regina Gura had just smacked someone over the head with a club and was now spouting psychopathic demon-like words. Despite the sudden situation that would normally warrant anger, the record keeper simply brushed off the white powder from their head and answered with a kind smile.
"Hmm, how should I put it? It felt exactly like getting hit with a loosely packed snowball. There wasn't any pain—just the feeling of something touching my head and then crumbling apart."
When the person who had actually been hit spoke so cheerfully, there was no choice but to believe it. Alright, it really was safe.
"...Miss Regina, I'd like to try getting hit too. Is that possible?"
"Ehh? Are you serious?"
My contractor added that she wanted to know what getting hit by a snowball felt like. But to think she had never been hit by a snowball at her age—did the region where she lived have summer all year round? Snowball fights in winter were a universal rule regardless of age.
'Now that I think about it, it's been a long time since I've seen snow.'
That damn place called Terraforming had polluted volcanic ash falling instead of snow, so the last time I'd had a snowball fight was decades ago. I'd gotten my soul completely shredded by a friend who brought an insanely overpowered in-game purchase weapon called the Ice Buster or whatever it was. What a cowardly bastard.
'I should have a snowball fight with my contractor when winter comes.'
We could even build a really big snowman.
"Ooh... What an interesting feeling."
"Haa, for some reason I feel better now!"
Watching my contractor happily get smacked with the club by Senior Regina Gura, I suddenly imagined such a future. For some reason...
It didn't feel bad at all.
'So cute.'
'I want to play with them too.'
'She looks quite young. Reaching Tier 1 at that age is impressive.'
'Huff huff huff...!'
The Sherpas who had taken on the role of evil bandits smiled faintly as they watched Regina Gura and Yuri playing with the test equipment. But they soon recalled Sherpa Sion's words and quickly hardened their expressions.
By tradition, the examiners will attempt to strike the familiar's master three times within the first ten minutes to end the test early.
This is to instill a sense of vigilance in the familiar.
So that they may understand, even a little, the price of letting their guard down.
The defensive combat evaluation, conducted under the pretext of testing a familiar's protective capabilities and crisis response, had one long-standing custom. The examiners in charge of this test were all specialists specialized in assassinating VIPs. Among them was a prodigy who had reached a level close to Tier 7 in personal combat.
The assassination specialist who had single-handedly dismantled a criminal organization that had been hiding in Bastion's slums. The citizens of Bastion who saw hundreds of criminals hanging coldly by their necks in the air had called him with reverence.
But that very person had said this:
She had declared that even she could not assassinate the contractor from that demon. However, they couldn't actually conduct the test with ten Tier 5 or higher Sherpas. At that point, it would no longer be considered a test.
So they had compromised with five Tier 5 Pathfinders led by The Strangler Sion. It was the birth of a terrifying combination that would have made Raven exclaim "real bandits" if he knew.
They quietly adjusted their sugar sticks while gazing at Raven and Yuri. And then...
Gulp....
They kept swallowing their drool.
Sherpas belonged to the guild but weren't full-time employees. Therefore, the guild had to pay an advance fee to commission them for work.
—Crazy.
—What?
—T-three hundred!?
—Huk!!!
—Isn't that too little? The crow might go berserk and seriously injure us, nyang?
—Hmm? Is that so? Then how about 2,000,000 with an additional 400,000?
—Good, nyang! Excellent, nyang!
—...Why does this feel like what happened to Regina Gura?
That's right. A staggering 4,000,000 Dallant was on the line for Yuri's neck(?).
'I will definitely finish this.'
'Sob, please forgive me.'
'Sorry, but I can't resist 4 million.'
'I'll kill you(?).'
Having successfully changed jobs from Pathfinders to bandits, they stared quietly at Yuri with greedy eyes. And their leader, Sion...
She bared her sharp fangs, burning with revenge against Raven as a sinister smile spread across her face. It was truly a sly expression perfectly suited for a bandit.