Chapter 242
Chapter 242
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 242
Chapter Title: Clash with A-Grade Heroes
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“Why are so many people here?”
I muttered as I looked around.
It was like talking to myself, but of course, it was meant for our Chain-Sickle Lokan.
But why no response?
“Lokan.”
“…Huh?”
Lost in some random thought, he’d been spacing out before finally replying late.
I waved my palm in front of his half-lidded eyes.
“What’s up with you? Zoning out like this isn’t like you.”
“…….”
“No way you’re nervous, are you?”
“No.”
He was a man from an industry where getting underestimated could get you killed, so the answer came like a reflex.
Even so, his face was pale, lips cracked and dry—even the mangy dog next door would see he wasn’t acting normal.
“Why are you so spooked?”
“I’m not spooked……. Hoo.”
He started to deny it again, then his expression shifted as he spoke.
“No. You’re right. I am nervous right now. You could call it spooked.”
“So why?”
“The clan that’s my goal came to watch this promotion match.”
“Clan?”
“Over there.”
In the direction Chain-Sickle Lokan was looking, a group was seated.
They had faces and auras too rough to pass for heroes. Their attire somehow evoked southern warriors.
Sticking out among them was a flag.
The emblem on it looked just like….
“A scorpion?”
Chain-Sickle Lokan nodded.
“It’s [Desert Scorpion]. A hero clan that mainly operates in the south.”
“Oh?”
I felt like I’d seen it a few times, but it wasn’t familiar enough to recognize at a glance.
Not strange at all.
Mercenaries who collaborated with heroes were at least A-grade at minimum. For someone like me who’d flailed as a B-grade hero right up to the brink of death, it was only natural I’d barely seen them.
“We carried out a mission together once. They were extraordinary. Not just in executing operations, but in improvisation, teamwork, basic judgment…. They were on a whole different level from mercenary trash. But what shocked me most was their mindset.”
“Mindset?”
“There was a cult underling we’d been tracking for a month. If you count from when we first got the lead, it might’ve been half a year. Even Heros had invested a long time to corner that prey. But while tracking the cultist, I—who’d joined midway—fell into a trap.”
I crossed my arms and waited silently for him to continue.
“Do you know what’s considered most important in the mercenary world?”
“Completing the mission.”
“…….”
“Doesn’t matter how many die or how many dozens get injured. The clients, the brokers, even the ones carrying it out—they all think the same.”
“Yeah.”
Chain-Sickle Lokan nodded.
“I was prepared to die. I’d abandoned comrades countless times in front of missions myself, so I figured it was my turn. But those Desert Scorpion heroes prioritized rescuing me without a second’s hesitation. They didn’t care that the cultist’s trail vanished.”
“…….”
“That’s when it started. I lost interest in being a mercenary and began looking into heroes.”
In other words, the moment admiration took root.
“They’ve probably forgotten all about me by now. Still, I want to join Desert Scorpion. I want to stand as their equal and properly thank them for what happened back then.”
Chain-Sickle Lokan suddenly laughed like a madman and asked,
“Pretty laughable dream for a mercenary, right?”
“Nah. It’s cool.”
“What?”
I flashed him a grin.
At the very least, it was a far cooler dream than the one my past-life self, Ruan Bednicker, had.
That’s right.
You can become a hero even without a Blessing.
Why hadn’t I known even that simple fact back then?
“Cheer up, Lokan. I’ll root for you for real.”
And that’s when I spotted the three A-grade heroes we’d be facing today.
There were three in total: two men and one woman.
One was a man with a coat you’d expect to see in the west draped over his shoulders and a cigar clenched in his mouth….
Strapped to his waist was undoubtedly a [gun].
The imperial west.
A place with poor public order in a different sense from the south. It was also the region where Ulka—the so-called [worst city in history]—was located.
Thanks to its regional traits, scientific advancement there outpaced everywhere else by a wide margin.
Of course, as a side effect, there were dozens, hundreds of factions…. Self-proclaimed gangs all tangled up in a mess.
The weapon most commonly used in that chaotic hellhole was the gun.
A weapon where even a kid twitching a finger could kill a knight.
‘But will that thing work in a clash between first-rates?’
I tilted my head slightly, but no one earned an A-grade spot lightly.
The next one was a woman with a somewhat dim-witted look, and her pointed ears marked her as a fairy.
No visible weapon…. Her outfit was just a single thin cloth garment, no place to conceal anything.
At first glance, I had no clue how she fought.
And the final one.
The figure standing in their center was a face I knew very well.
Hiiro Bednicker.
“—Spear Baron Chedrak. To the arena.”
At that moment, a dry voice rang out.
With no starting signal or anything, the third promotion match began.
The called Spear Baron Chedrak stepped onto the arena.
In response, the gunman emerged from the A-grade heroes.
“Gunman Rockhead.”
“You know me, noble sir?”
“Yes. I know all the famous A-grade heroes.”
“I see.”
Hoo. The gunman exhaled thick smoke from his cigar and said,
“Begin.”
“May I take the first strike?”
“Of course. The third trial has a custom. The challenger’s first attack must be met without drawing your weapon.”
“Seems like quite the disadvantage for you.”
The baron said this while eyeing the revolver at the gunman’s waist.
I was thinking the same, which made the fight intriguing.
The baron’s skill level wasn’t low at all, and I was curious about how the gunman—who was yielding the first move—would respond.
The gunman, still puffing his cigar, said,
“Care to test it?”
“Very well. Excuse me.”
It happened right then.
With a sharp *pfft*, the baron turned into a streak of light and charged the gunman.
But his form was odd.
He was dashing while gripping the spear shaft with both hands, almost like he was pulling a cart.
‘Not a thrust?’
At this prime opportunity, he wasn’t using the attack that maximized a spear’s advantages.
There had to be some ulterior motive….
And sure enough, once their distance closed to about five steps.
*Crack*.
The baron’s spear split in two.
It wasn’t broken— it seemed designed to separate into two pieces from the start.
In an instant, his weapon transformed from a single spear into two thin clubs.
“Suuuuup—.”
The moment it looked like the air itself was visibly sucked into the baron’s mouth.
The clubs in both hands unleashed a barrage.
*Bababababap!*
It was like drumming on a beat. The attacks were so fast his hands were a blur.
I also realized a few other things.
‘A Blessing activated?’
The baron. This man was a descendant of a Great Family too.
His storm-like onslaught was undeniably threatening.
The turbulence reached even me, standing off to the side.
But….
“That it?”
“……!”
The gunman spoke in a nonchalant tone. Not a scratch on him—his clothes hadn’t even shifted.
The only change was one thing.
“Put out my cigar fire. Nice work.”
With a *da* almost simultaneous to the *bang!*.
“…Kuhk.”
The baron’s body crumpled.
*Psssh….*
Smoke trailed from the gun in the gunman’s hand.
“Rubber bullets, so he won’t die. Ah. Probably get some bruises.”
“…….”
I narrowed my eyes ever so slightly.
Among everyone here, how many could precisely track that rapid-fire shot?
‘It’s like the quick-draw of a swordsman who’s reached the realm.’
Shoulder, elbow, wrist—especially the fingers. That gunman could probably crumple steel with finger strength alone.
In any case, the baron’s defeat was decided in a flash….
The heroes in the judges’ seats recorded the result.
I honestly had no idea about the scoring, but I wouldn’t give this match a high mark.
‘A-grades really are in another league.’
I could see why a nation would keep tabs on a mere outfit like Heros.
With at least a hundred such monsters, and S-grades on top, their total force couldn’t be considered below the imperial house.
“Lokan Chain-Sickle. To the arena.”
The stern man in the judges’ seats called out again.
The opponent still looked like the gunman, and that’s when I finally grasped the format of this promotion match.
Six of us, three of them.
In other words, one A-grade hero judged two challengers.
Obviously, the second slot looked more advantageous than the first….
They probably gave extra points to the first slot to offset the penalty.
“Fight well.”
“Yeah.”
Chain-Sickle Lokan, face stiff, stepped onto the arena.
The gunman had lit a fresh cigar in the meantime.
“A mercenary?”
“Yes.”
“Weapon? Ah. Chain-sickle whatchamacallit.”
“…….”
Was it obvious bait?
Or just his personality?
Fortunately, our Chain-Sickle Lokan didn’t snap or lose his cool.
“Please, one move.”
“Hm.”
While Chain-Sickle Lokan fought, I racked my brain on how to handle the gunman myself.
But no clever ploy came to mind.
The reason for the gunman’s overwhelming win against the baron wasn’t some brilliant strategy—it was simply a stark gap in level from the outset.
For instance, at the last moment, he didn’t even need to fire.
A finger flick would’ve knocked the baron out cold.
‘Our physical abilities are comparable, maybe I have a slight edge….’
But that rapid-fire’s instantaneous speed easily surpassed my maximum.
So if it came down to me versus the gunman, the match would probably end in a flash.
My win if I reacted to the rapid-fire.
His win if I didn’t.
*Kwangkwakwang!*
At that moment, a racket exploded from the arena.
Wondering what happened, I saw Chain-Sickle Lokan swinging the chain in his hand like a whip, smashing the arena to bits.
“…….”
It looked like he’d half-lost it and gone berserk, but that wasn’t the case.
I vaguely guessed the strategy he’d chosen, and it struck me as a solid idea.
The heroes in the judges’ seats were probably thinking the same.
Chain-Sickle Lokan, having wrecked the stage, leaped across the shattered ground while swinging his chain.
“Hmm.”
The gunman easily dodged the attacks, but the collapsed arena restricted his movement range.
To make matters worse, there was no stable footing, so the moment he stumbled slightly, the chain coiled around his right hand.
Only then did the gunman draw his gun with his left hand… but Chain-Sickle Lokan ducked behind an upturned arena fragment as a shield before he could aim.
‘Smart one?’
As expected of a mercenary.
He’d instantly grasped the gun’s traits and reshaped the battlefield to his advantage.
For a gunman limited to straight-line attacks, this setup was extremely unfavorable.
Too many places to hide.
Meanwhile, the chain Chain-Sickle Lokan wielded could strike from free angles like a whip—unrestricted, depending on proficiency.
Using the scattered arena debris as cover meant he could keep up a one-sided assault.
Not bad for an improvised strategy.
*Ggggrit!*
On top of that, the gunman’s right arm was bound by the chain.
Naturally, unable to use his dominant hand, both his draw speed and accuracy would suffer.
If he dragged it out to make the opponent hasty, then struck a gap at the decisive moment, he could win.
“Hup!”
That was the moment.
Veins bulged on the gunman’s chained right arm, muscles swelling enough to rattle the links.
Then, gripping the chain barehanded, he yanked.
“……!”
The brute force was such that Chain-Sickle Lokan—who’d let his guard down slightly—floated into the air and got dragged out.
“Come on in.”
The gunman smirked and smashed his left fist into Lokan’s face.
*Ppak!*
“Guk……!”
Chain-Sickle Lokan exhaled and tumbled across the ground.
“Still got your wits? Must be the left hand.”
The gunman shook the chain off his right arm and asked,
“Keep going?”
“…No. I lost.”
“Yeah. You fought well.”
Chain-Sickle Lokan nodded….
Surprisingly, brief applause broke out here and there.
Even in my eyes, he’d fought far better than the baron.
Thanks to his real-combat experience as a mercenary, he’d put on a solid show.
What Chain-Sickle Lokan overlooked was the gunman’s baseline physical prowess.
Because he used a gun?
It was easy to mistake him for having mediocre physical ability at a glance… but the truth was the opposite.
That gunman’s body was honed to rival any first-rate martial artist.
“You fought well.”
“…Thanks.”
I gave a thumbs-up to the returning Chain-Sickle Lokan, then shifted my gaze back to the arena.
I could predict which A-grade hero would step up next.
‘I’m fifth, and Hiiro’s my opponent…. So….’
Probably the dim-witted-looking woman hero this time.
The flow of these matches was more engaging than expected.
It was pretty fun getting a direct look at A-grade level.
Lost in such thoughts, my eyes met Hiiro’s for a brief moment….
“Hm?”
An odd sense of discomfort crept in.
His usual languid demeanor was completely gone from his face.
Sunken eyes and a blank expression.
That combination made someone come to mind.
‘…Iron-Blooded Duke?’