The Criminal Returns to the Scene of the Crime
"We're here. This is our home."
The home in question — presented as such by the head of Serpe, the middle-aged man who'd introduced himself as Karma — was a mansion of no small size. It didn't quite reach the looming grandeur of an estate a high noble might keep, but it came with a fountain garden, and for a criminal it was already a house so good it crossed the line of what he deserved.
"It's enormous. Were you a noble?"
That wasn't mere needling — the plain truth was that no ordinary mafia bigshot could get his hands on a place like this. No matter how deep your purse ran, in this country there was a hard ceiling on what a man without noble blood could enjoy out in the open. And with estates of similar caliber standing shoulder to shoulder around it like trees along an avenue, this had to be one of the noble quarters of the Rung Duchy. The duchy's officials would surely have run all manner of checks before anyone took residence — so how on earth had that middle-aged mafioso ended up a next-door neighbor to the duchy's aristocracy?
"Well — back when I was a kid, I suppose. Things are a bit murky these days."
…
…So that was it — all that talk about nobility the moment he heard my family name.
Seeing him brush the question off with visible displeasure, Karma clearly had no appetite for the subject. If it had been up to me, I'd have made him pay for mocking my name earlier — but unlike that criminal bastard, I happened to be a human being with manners, so I did him the favor of not asking twice.
"Right — one last check before we go in. What is it you'll be doing for me?"
"Playing errand boy for your little girl until she turns sixteen."
Thwack—
"What was that for?!"
"Consider this your warning. Me, I'll let your filth slide — but if you run that gutter mouth in front of our Peri and my princess picks it up, I'm starting with your wrist."
"Ugh, fuck… She's going to be a mafia boss someday anyway. Call it early training so she doesn't lose a staring contest — you're the one making a fuss…"
"Quiet. You cut what you're told to cut. Understood? I'll have your clothes set aside shortly, so from now on, when you're guarding Peri, you wear that uniform and carry yourself properly. And your mouth too, obviously — none of that gutter filth like right now. Speak the way you did with the doctor."
"Fuck, the demands just keep piling up…"
"I'm the one holding the leash in this arrangement. If it chafes, you should've told Mom and Dad not to borrow from loansharks in the first place."
…
This son of a bitch.
Right — a few minutes of small talk and I'd nearly forgotten. That man was no kindly Daddy-Long-Legs watching over me. He was a thug holding our enslaved parents hostage, intending to work me like a guard dog for his daughter.
"…Tch."
"Sounds like you understand. Good. Let's go in."
Having wrung that much out of me, Karma strode through the front gate of the mansion — one I still suspected wasn't rightfully his — and the moment he stepped through, an elderly man who could only be the butler opened the door and came out to greet us.
"Welcome home, Master. Lady Peri has retired to her room and is resting already. This child is the one Master Galing spoke of—"
"Yeah, the boy who'll be Peri's escort from today. Old man, I'll see myself in — take him to the room he'll be sleeping in."
"Very good, sir."
"A pleasure to meet you, sir. This is my first post, so I'll be clumsy in places — please correct me firmly whenever that happens."
"Quite the well-mannered boy — not at all what Galing described. I see no danger of Lady Peri being shown any disrespect."
At my crisp bow, the old butler — a man whose face suggested he'd never smiled in his life — thawed on the spot, visibly satisfied.
"Ugh, sh— every time I look at this kid, I get the creeps…"
And the gangster who'd just put in a good word for me found my sudden display of perfect manners so unbearable, apparently, that goosebumps ran up his arm.
"Come along this way, Hulhul. Master, do excuse us."
"Ah — yes, right…"
Leaving a dumbstruck Karma where he stood, I followed the butler toward the house — and just before stepping inside, I turned my head a fraction and, before the butler could see, gave the man a smirk and a raised middle finger.
Sure enough, veins bulged on Karma's forehead the moment he caught it —
…Whew.
But for all his irritation, he'd looked almost relieved by my provocation. Or was that just my imagination?
The room the butler had pointed out as mine held a bed just big enough for one grown man, a small desk, a clothes rack, and a lamp — bare, cramped, and that was the whole inventory.
"This will be your room. Of course, you're staff here, not a guest — so the cleaning will be your own responsibility."
"Not at all, sir. Being given a room this fine to sleep in is kindness enough."
And I wasn't saying it for show. Modest as a servants' room might be, this was a noble's household, and it beat the room I'd left behind. The bed wasn't a rag thrown over straw — it was a real mattress with honest cotton in it, and all the softer for that. Our family had been a touch poor, granted, but even making allowances, this room was unquestionably better than what most commoner children slept in.
"Hulhul, our household does make a point of looking after its servants' welfare."
The old butler knew the lot of commoners well enough, and he seemed to nurse a quiet pride about it — unprompted, he launched into an account of just how fine this mansion was.
"To think I'd end up in a place like this. I suppose my luck hasn't run out after all."
Old folks love to talk, so I listened quietly and offered a soft word here and there, and the butler nodded along, pleased all over again.
"From today, am I to stand at the young lady's side? …Her name was Peri, I believe?"
"No — your uniform hasn't arrived yet, and the young lady had her accident today; she needs time to settle. So today you're free. I heard you'd been through quite an ordeal yourself. Rest up."
"Thank you for your consideration."
Everything had moved so fast it felt like days had passed, but I had only arrived in this city yesterday. I turned the slave market into a sea of blood and pulled Peri out of it, and this very morning — mere hours ago — I had stormed Serpe's headquarters.
The body my grandfather had tempered, and its freakish durability, let me keep moving somehow — but honestly, forget walking. Every breath made my whole body howl, and somewhere beneath the bandages, wounds felt like they'd torn open again.
"Then rest. I'll introduce you to the other servants around dinnertime."
I don't know how much he'd been told about me, but the butler left me to rest alone; I waited a few minutes, just in case, before flopping onto the bed.
"Kraaah~! Fuck, this is the liiife~"
Not that I'd folded to Karma's threats — but I would have to work on my mouth. I hadn't been this foul even away from my parents before, but a month spent dealing with nothing but the dregs of humanity had glued profanity to my tongue like old gum.
That aside, the bed was every bit as plush as I'd hoped. Perhaps it was having a proper space of my own for the first time in a month — even in what was basically enemy ground, my tension melted away far too easily.
Can I really trust that bastard?
I glanced out the window: Karma was still standing in the garden, apparently with nothing better to do than sulk. …No. Sitting up for a proper look, I found one of his men standing before him — apparently taking orders.
By the original plan, that bastard's head should have been rolling at my feet by now. So how had things turned around, to where I was the one bowing my head to him?
It was all because of that girl, Peri.
It had felt off ever since the back alley — a brat younger than me, hounded relentlessly by some bizarre kidnapper. But I'd never once imagined she was Serpe's only daughter.
They called Serpe the biggest outfit in the duchy, and yet his little girl was being marked. Apparently its influence wasn't quite the iron grip it was made out to be.
Eh, whatever — it's basically my part-time job… isn't it. No. No, it isn't.
Like it or not, I had to protect that girl perfectly for the next six years. Her life was tied line for line to my parents' — which meant I had to keep a keen eye on anything that might pose even the smallest threat to her.
…Besides, first impressions matter, and I'm hardly in any position to be picky.
Aching, I hauled myself up off the bed and opened the closet.
"Ugh, thoughtless bastards. If you're going to move my things, at least wipe the blood off — I'll rust right through."
Where clothes should have hung, the two kukri I'd carried without letting go for a single hour over the past month lay side by side.
I hurriedly wiped the blades clean with the towel on the desk, checked the edges for damage, then found myself staring at the steel in silence.
"Don't worry, Mom, Dad. I'll get you out of there. I swear it."
Resolution sealed, I wound the towel around my waist, tucked the knives in, opened the window, and dropped down toward where Karma stood.
"Right — those doomed bastards who had the gall to touch us. We find them as fast as possib— GYAAAH!?"
Thud. Gangster bastards really are the jumpy sort. Apparently convinced I'd come swooping out of the sky to bury a kukri in his forehead, he panicked magnificently.
"Heading out for a bit."
"Hey — are you insane?! Where the hell are you going?!"
"Work!"
"…What?"
"I'll be back before dinner!"
There was exactly one place I could be going in this situation, but Karma pressed anyway; I tossed him whatever answer would shut him up and set off at an easy jog, careful not to strain my body.
"Boss… you don't think that kid's about to bolt, do you…?"
"…We don't even know where his parents are, so I doubt it… Is this really the right call, though…"
"More than that — wasn't he at death's door not long ago…? He looks awfully lively for it…"
…
I'd been saying it half in jest — so was that doctor actually some master physician?
Huh. The body moves better than I expected.
The more I ran, the lighter the burden seemed, so I raised my pace; at this level, I decided, it was workable.
So then — where do I start?
Barely a month ago, I had never so much as pointed a blade at another human being, let alone swung one — grandfather excepted. But a month on the road had taught me the tricks of hunting bad men, so I ran — first, to the place where I'd crossed paths with those bastards earlier.