Week 1 (9)
Week 1 (9)
"This is the Territory from here on out."
The woman who'd been advancing without hesitation stopped dead at those words.
Her trailing companion added,
"I was just waiting for you to say that. It's already giving off creepy vibes, and the mood's totally off."
"Cursed Land, after all."
The one frowning like she felt uneasy shot back a casual reply.
Ahead of the two Mercenaries exchanging that banter was another woman, staggering along with her limbs bound.
A blatantly deliberate all-female lineup.
The result of rumors spreading far and wide about a land that drove men insane if they entered.
"Now that we've delivered that thing, we head back and mission complete?"
"Pretty much."
The lead Mercenary jerked her chin.
The response was exactly what she'd been dying to hear.
"From here on, it's under the Lord's surveillance, so they'll probably come pick it up."
"Ugh, let's hurry back. What if that Lord guy shows up himself?"
She grimaced like it gave her chills. The other Mercenary replied,
"I've never heard any reports of that, but the rumors are definitely bad. Better to get out quick."
"Hey, shouldn't we tie her arms and legs together?"
"Well, she might crawl off before they come to collect her, so yeah, better safe."
With that, she kicked the bound woman roughly.
Pressing down hard on the woman's back as she flopped powerlessly to the ground, the Mercenary folded her bound legs back toward her back.
Then she gathered the knots from her arms and legs together with cord and tied them tight.
The woman ended up in a pitiably wretched hogtie.
Having finished their job, the Mercenaries turned their backs on her, leaving her there.
"Hey, no personal feelings here, but if you don't wanna end up as minced meat for wild beasts before the Lord comes to collect you, at least crawl into the bushes or something."
"You think a crazy bitch like her is gonna listen?"
The one already prepping to leave said to the one giving the well-meaning advice.
"We're delivery service, so we gotta leave the 'package' in plain sight for the recipient. Can't help it if the 'merchandise' crawls off, though. Got it?"
But the bound woman lying there stayed corpse-still and silent.
The Mercenary soon gave up trying to talk to her and turned away.
The other grumbled about why bother with that crap, and even that voice faded quickly.
Soon the Mercenaries' presence vanished entirely, and the woman sprawled on the ground let out a groan that sounded like laughter.
"Hi, hi-hiit. Ah, it hurts, heu-heut, seee."
After wriggling a bit in place on her stomach, the woman coughed weakly.
Dark red blood splattered onto the dirt ground.
Her condition's still a total mess, huh.
With half-lidded eyes, she thought.
Still, so far, everything's going according to plan.
*
"What the hell is this?"
The Surveillance System—just gonna call it that—alarm went off outta nowhere, and turns out someone chucked trash in our front yard.
Slept like a rock last night, and bam, this first thing in the morning.
Didn't expect it to go down like this, so I'm clueless, but hey, it's a boon anyway.
Mercenaries normally get restocked once a week.
Only other way to bolster manpower is through events like this.
Just don't get why they dump it like literal garbage, though.
Bemused but hustling, I threw on my coat.
If I leave her like that and she croaks, it won't end with just bad dreams.
No need to wake The Butler—probably rolling around passed out somewhere in the mansion by now.
I grabbed some Embers from the fireplace and bolted out of the mansion.
She looked pretty rough on the feed—fingers crossed she's still clinging to life.
—Shortly after, I reached the edge of the Territory like I'd seen on the Surveillance System.
By then, the Embers flickering away in my hand were starting to look iffy.
Rushed out too quick and skimped on prep, maybe.
Time-wise it's broad daylight, so I could see fine without 'em, but Embers' main gig isn't just lighting the way—it's warding off all the Territory's corrupting crap.
Out here on the outskirts, no backup coming, so gotta grab her quick and hustle back, no dawdling.
A bit anxious now, I scanned around for the spot I'd seen on the feed.
Definitely around here somewhere...
A rustle came a moment later.
"Ugh, heuu..."
The sound from behind sharpened my senses on instinct, but I clocked it as human voice right away.
A super feeble one, too weak even to scream for help.
Exactly the kinda noise you'd expect from the person I was hunting for.
I whipped my head toward the source and spotted her instantly.
A human shape slumped against a thick tree trunk, heaving ragged breaths.
I rushed over and thrust the Embers forward first.
Only then did she seem to register me, squirming feebly.
"Ah, hi-hiit, a person! Ah, hello? Um, help me out here..."
The woman, limbs bound and face-planted on the ground, strained to lift her head and croak toward me.
Emerald eyes trembled faintly through her gray hair.
What you'd call a Restraint Suit? Plain as dirt outfit, wrists and ankles bound together.
Sprawled helpless, yet her words were all innocent cheer.
Kinda radiating unhinged psycho vibes right outta the gate, but leaving someone trussed up like this feels wrong.
No reaction to the Embers, so she's not corrupted by the darkness or anything—probably not a huge threat.
I approached her slowly.
Figured I'd help her up first.
Up close, her clothes and hair were soaked through.
Like someone doused her, but she didn't seem to care.
"H-Help me. Back pocket—there—"
More urgent, she wriggled and strained her bound hands to point at her butt.
Following her fingertip, yeah, there was a tiny pocket on her pants—barely noticeable unless you knew.
Location's the issue, though...
I hesitated, not wanting to touch, and she nagged.
"Q-Quick... Pull out the meds from in there."
Meds? Huh, doesn't scream "carries first-aid kit" type.
Kinda dubious but following orders, I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved my hand in her pants pocket.
Ignoring the soft sensation against my knuckles, I grabbed the cold, hard thing at my fingertips and yanked it out like she said.
"Yeah, that's it. Open it and—"
Ignoring her frantic flailing, I inspected the thing closely.
Not a vial—a Syringe.
Pinkish liquid sloshed faintly inside, needle capped.
Dunno if it's just me, but this doesn't feel like "meds" at all...
As I dithered, she suddenly gaped her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Beeeh.
"Right here, jab it hereee..."
Yeah, total junkie.
Way too sus, so I pocketed the Syringe, convinced.
She started freaking out.
"Huh? Hey, my meds...! You can't take that...!"
Bound hand and foot, couldn't even stand, but thrashing like mad in protest.
Not planning to keep it, obviously, but jabbing her now would probably leave her loopy—and I needed to get back to the mansion ASAP.
"Sorry, I'll return it later. Gotta untie you first..."
Explaining that, I edged closer carefully.
Her arms and legs hogtied tight behind her back came into view.
How to undo this? Brought a blade, at least...
"H-Huh? Y-You're gonna untie me?"
Weirdly, she sounded shocked, like double-checking.
What's up—is she actually someone I shouldn't free?
I froze, and realizing her slip, she backpedaled.
"N-No, I mean... It looks hard to untie..."
"Hold up, forgot the most important question. Why're you trussed up like discarded luggage?"
Thinking about it, yeah.
Got too swept up assuming, but there's gotta be a reason she got dumped here like this.
No untying till I hear that.
"Th-That's..."
Yup, averting her eyes and hemming, as expected.
No answer coming.
Giving up quick, I knelt and rolled her half a turn.
Tumbled without warning, she let out a puzzled noise.
Alright, let's do this.
First, I stick the Ember stick in my mouth.
Then slide hands under her legs and lower back, scoop her up in one go.
She yelped in surprise.
Lighter than she looks—pretty scrawny.
For now, princess-carry this lady straight back to the mansion.
Striding off, she started mumbling complaints about the bumpy ride, but soon went quiet after a bit.
Glancing down, seemed mesmerized by the pretty-burning Embers at the end of the stick in my mouth.
Please don't resist—just stay put like this.
Muttering that inwardly, I urged my steps onward.