Werner's Nine Lives
The duty of a martial artist in this world is to save the weak and eradicate the wicked. Destroying these parasitic bastards is truly the mission of a warrior. With gratitude to the masters who taught me the ways of martial arts, I thrust out my arm.
They tried to fight back against me, swinging weapons like swords and spears, but... in the face of true martial arts, those things were no better than rotten twigs.
A one-hit-kill strike delivered by rotating the joints.
"Kyaaaaack!!! My shoulder! My fucking shoulder!!!"
The ultimate strike unleashed by contracting the leg muscles.
"My ribs, fuck!!! Kyaaaaack!!!!"
A secret technique that paralyzes the opponent's muscles and nerves.
"My bo... body won't fucking move! My legs won't move, fuck!!!"
And finally, the Nine Lives that shoots to kill—every attack launched so quickly they overlapped. To be precise, I'd rearranged it my own way, modifying it to fire off the Rakshasa Palm or Village Strike nine times in succession.
This was my own original creation: Werner's Nine Lives—Bashing the Heads of These Fucking Bastards to Death.
"Kuuuuurgh...!"
The soft, squelching sensation of internal organs stimulated my fingertips. Kyushu, the miner union leader whose abdomen I'd just pierced, groaned and spoke to me.
"You'll definitely regret this... Do you even know who's behind us? Bastards like you will vanish without a trace..."
"I knew it would be like this."
"What...?"
"The scale was way too big for something a mere union leader would pull off. I wondered what gave you the balls to act like that... So, as expected, there were these stinking bastards from the Black Round Table backing you up."
Just as one hand can't cover the sky, the stench of these bastards can't be hidden. And the scale of these incidents was far too large to be the work of a mere union leader. Unless there was some powerful backer behind them.
A bastard well over forty wouldn't do something as insane as proposing to a count's daughter without that kind of support.
The one thing that bothered me... was that since Count Holstead had accepted the marriage talks, he couldn't possibly have been unaware that the miner union and the Black Round Table were connected.
Yet he'd consistently acted like he had no idea about the link between the two events. I'd come to help him—so why the lies...?
When I thought about it that way, even though the mansion was small, there were still quite a few other rooms. The fact that they'd only offered us two guest rooms was suspicious. On top of that, the order not to enter the other rooms...
"Well, setting aside how suspicious that man is... I should settle my business with you first. What kind of deal did you make with those bastards?"
"D-deal? What the hell are you—"
"Don't give me that father-in-law bullshit, you fuck. Those bastards aren't running some charity for evil. They obviously made some shady deal with you that reeks to high heaven."
"Even I, the union leader, don't know about any—"
"I just realized you're not the real union leader, so let's drop the act, please."
"...Sharp little bastard."
Someone capable of making a deal with the Black Round Table wouldn't casually show up at an investigation site like this. Moreover, no matter how you looked at it, this guy didn't have the caliber to meet face-to-face with the Black Round Table and negotiate anything.
Which meant this was a fake. The real union leader was probably somewhere else right now, shooting the shit with the Black Round Table.
"Hey, I already know everything, so let's cooperate with the arrest. We don't have to make this hard on each other."
"Hmph. Knowing changes nothing."
I genuinely couldn't understand why these types always acted like this. This wasn't some ancient era of warring states. Did they think that if they showed this kind of loyalty, I'd spare them because it would be a waste to kill such a devoted subordinate?
I didn't know where they'd gotten that fake news from, but I would never do something like that.
I had the pride of a torture artist. I wouldn't spare someone's life for such a trivial reason. The hand that aimed for the opponent's vital points would only swim forward on a tide of rage. No other emotions were permitted.
I showed no mercy. Because doing so would insult both my enemy and myself.
"Want me to rearrange the positions of your internal organs?"
I shoved my hand deep into his gut and stirred. I tore through his intestines and swapped the positions of his liver and gallbladder.
"Kyaaaaaaaagh!"
"There. Now do you feel like talking? Or should I swap the positions of your eyeballs and stomach before you get the urge?"
How nice would it have been if he'd just talked from the beginning? He wouldn't have had to suffer, and I wouldn't have had to bother stirring his guts.
Even though a shining path that benefited both of us lay right in front of us, they refused to walk it. They always chose the worst possible road—the one where they suffered in agony and I had to stir their innards in irritation.
"Why didn't you just say it from the start...? Why do bastards like you insist on keeping your mouths shut and making everyone tired? Was there some school that taught you to do that?"
I slowly brought my index finger toward the bastard's right eye.
"Please... spare... me..."
In the end, he couldn't overcome his terror and decided to spill everything. As expected, there was no better cure for amnesia than fear and violence. For those who claimed they didn't remember or couldn't recall, fear and violence were the perfect medicine.
In that way, today as well, I managed to cure one amnesia patient.
"Now you finally feel like giving me proper information, I see."
"Yes... I'll tell you everything I know..."
Then the cry of a hawk pierced my ears. Yes. For trash like this, the hawk was always the answer.
There were many things I needed to know, but selecting which information had priority and deciding the order and format of my questions was crucial.
I finished my cold analysis and asked the most important question first.
"You fucking bastards... First, let me ask... where's the bathroom?"
The culprit was that I'd drunk way too much coffee this morning. Besides, the abandoned building where we'd agreed to meet was quite old, so I had no idea where anything was.
Information could wait. My bladder came first.
"So the information you obtained is that the miner union is colluding with the Black Round Table and has taken an interest in something hidden within the Holstead family's iron mine?"
There had also been information about the location of the bathroom in the abandoned building, but Glacia showed not the slightest interest in that particular detail.
"Correct. And they mentioned that the contract period is ending soon... so we don't have much time. Even if we request reinforcements from the imperial family, it's highly likely they'll arrive too late."
The miner union bastards seemed to be trying to secure their survival by linking the union leader with the count's daughter before they lost the Black Round Table's protection.
They'd used their heads in their own way, but with the count's daughter now dead, they must have been growing desperate themselves.
"Then our only option is to visit that iron mine."
"Yes, I agree."
Glacia spread out the map of the iron mine she'd obtained beforehand and began pondering deeply, biting at her thumbnail. Was she trying to formulate a strategy?
"Lord Werner and Lady Lorsha, please enter the mine and handle the investigation. Lady Airi and I will wait outside, preventing anyone from entering and capturing anyone who comes out."
Airi immediately shrieked in protest. "No way! I'm going in with Master! If I stay outside with you, we'll just end up fighting the whole time!"
It seemed Airi possessed excellent analytical abilities. Even I had to admit that leaving those two alone would probably result in them beating the crap out of each other.
But Glacia refused to yield.
"You can't use your full power when you're by Lord Werner's side. To be honest, I would prefer to enter the mine with Lord Werner myself, but it's obvious you'd throw a tantrum if I did."
"But..."
"If you prefer, you can guard the mansion from inside a room. It wouldn't matter if I handled the outside alone. I never expected you to be particularly helpful anyway..."
"Fine! I get it! I'll go, okay? I'll go!"
Lorsha remained silent, staring at the map. Wanting to tease her, I placed a hand on her shoulder and asked.
"What are you thinking about so deeply?"
"Fuck, you scared me!"
Her elbow strike landed perfectly on my philtrum. Was she also a successor of Jeolkwondo? It hurt like hell.
"Ow, my philtrum... tsk..."
"S-sorry."
"No, it was my fault for suddenly messing with you, so it's fine. But what were you thinking about?"
Lorsha looked somehow anxious. If I had to compare it, she resembled an elementary school student who hadn't touched their summer homework even though the new semester started tomorrow.
"You... stay right next to me tomorrow."
"Huh? Why all of a sudden? Are you scared bats might come out since it's a cave?"
"No, it's not that... Tsk... Never mind. Just remember that. I'll handle the rest myself."
Lorsha clicked her tongue and headed for the bed first. Honestly, she was expressing her irritation and anger in her own way... but with a face like that, it only came across as cute. If a guy acted like that? I'd immediately fire a Rakshasa Palm straight into his mouth.