Could This Turn Into a Drive Them Out Hunt?
The curse user Turan.
As the subordinate of Azazel, the Sin of Sloth, he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins’ most accomplished curse users.
Curses were a notoriously finicky discipline. They came with countless restrictions, required extensive prior information about the target, and if even one step in the ritual went wrong, the curse would fail to manifest.
And yet Turan could succeed with nothing more than the target’s name. That alone was an incredible feat. It was also the reason behind his confidence. But then—
...He bounced my curse back?
It was more than just bouncing it back. Judging by the fact that the caster, Turan himself, had taken such massive damage, he had to have been completely broken through.
Was I too careless?
This had never happened before. Curses failed sometimes, sure, but being counterattacked like this was a first. His excessive confidence had turned poisonous.
Grit.
Turan ground his teeth. A deep scratch had been carved into his pride.
And then there was the client, Cecily, staring at him.
Suspicion was thick in her eyes.
Frustration flared up. How dare she look at him with such filthy, insolent eyes.
He was so confident... could he have actually failed?
Seeing Turan cough up blood, Cecily really did begin to doubt him.
She could not bring herself to ask for details, but unease had already started to bloom in a corner of her heart.
She had invested too much money to simply brush it aside. She had borne the risk because she considered it an investment in the future, not money meant to be thrown into the dirt.
"...What exactly is the situation?"
After a brief hesitation, Cecily asked Turan the question.
"...It is nothing. There is no need for concern."
The rasping voice, like metal being scraped with a file, carried a thick, poisonous hostility and rage.
She could not keep asking; it felt as though she might be dragged into trouble if she pushed any further, but the anxiety would not subside. Cecily bit her lip.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Hmmm...."
No matter how he thought about it, it still felt off.
Balmung had told him not to worry about it, but how was he supposed to not worry?
In broad daylight, a curse had come flying at him.
He had no idea what kind of curse it was, or who had sent it.
The less he knew, the more irritating it became.
That curse disappearing... that was probably because of the old man, right?
Balmung was the only thing he could think of.
Kael glanced down at Balmung hanging at his waist. Quiet as it was, the sword seemed to still be asleep.
He had no idea why a sword needed to sleep. It was not even short naps, either. It slept for ages.
Though it does feel like that’s gotten worse lately.
Especially these days. Whenever he tried speaking to it, the answer was always that it was sleeping and not to bother it.
I should ask him properly when he wakes up.
Leaving the lingering unease behind, Kael headed out into the street. It was time to eat.
He had moved the guard headquarters and even set up a reasonably decent mess hall, but Kael still preferred to come out here and eat instead.
Whatever else happens, I’m settling down here now.
There were several reasons for that. Part of it was wanting to grow attached to Nox, and part of it was to adapt to the atmosphere here and memorize the faces of the people.
He had not come here by choice, but since he had decided to stay, it was only right that he make at least this much effort.
Kael looked around the street. The gloomy atmosphere that had once hung over it was now starting to settle into something calmer, little by little.
"Kael! If you’re planning to slack off, why don’t you have a drink before you go? I’ll throw in plenty of service!"
"Kael, come to our place! That bastard’s beer is worse than piss!"
"What did you say?! You brat, how do you know our tavern’s business secrets...."
The citizens bickered and joked with one another, pretending to fight.
This was Nox’s everyday life. And Kael did not hate that ordinary sight as much as he might have expected.
Even the citizens who had once kept their distance because of Kael’s ferocious look and rough behavior were now quite comfortable striking up conversation with him.
"Why are you old men always trying to get me drunk first thing in the morning? What’s the angle?"
"Haha, what angle? It’s just pure gratitude! Thanks to you, we don’t have to pay protection money anymore!"
"If you don’t pay protection money, you still have to pay taxes."
"...Ahem!"
At Kael’s words, the tavern owners averted their eyes and coughed awkwardly.
Apparently they did not understand that there was no such thing as a free lunch.
Still, even so, it would be far less than the protection money Iron Thorn had forcibly extorted.
Every business that Iron Thorn had run was also being brought into the light.
Kael intended to turn Nox into a city with real law and order, not one ruled by a criminal organization, but one that stood alongside the other cities.
And the most necessary thing for that was—
They need to stop looking like thugs.
He had to change how the citizens saw them.
And that plan was going along very smoothly....
"Kael, boss! Good day, sir!"
"Good day!!"
Then a pack of rough-looking men came bustling over and bowed at ninety degrees to Kael. They had once been members of Iron Thorn.
The smile at the corner of Kael’s mouth twitched thinly.
"...Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me boss?"
"Ah! Sorry! Let me correct that! Kael, commander!"
"We’ll correct it!"
The men bowed at ninety degrees again.
Kael had a lot to say, but he could only sigh and wave them off.
"Can you all just get the hell out of my sight?"
"Yes, sir! We’ll be going now, Comma... commander!"
"We’ll be going now!"
After one last ninety-degree bow, the men hurried off in a crowd.
...His head was suddenly starting to hurt.
With a sigh, Kael stepped into a tavern.
The tavern was called the Smiling Lion. It was a place he had been coming to often lately. The food was mostly ordinary, but the atmosphere and service were fairly good.
"Kael! You’re here again today?!"
A freckled brown-haired girl waved at him.
Her name was Marin, the tavern owner’s daughter.
She had a bright, cheerful personality, and thanks to that, she had become fairly close to Kael in a short time.
"Give me the usual."
"Got it! Wait just a bit!"
Marin grinned brightly and ran to the kitchen.
Kael sat down at an empty table. The food arrived quickly: bread and a little butter, meat soup, and potatoes with cheese.
It was a simple meal, but it was not bad. At the very least, it was far better than the thing shaped like bread he had first eaten after arriving in Nox. Of course, if that was the baseline, then everything in the world would feel like a feast.
"Come to think of it, you haven’t been coming with Luke lately?"
"He’s been busy. I gave him something to do."
"Something to do? What is it?"
"There are things like that. You’ll get hurt if you know."
"That’s so mean!"
Kael tore off a piece of bread, dipped it into the soup, and put it in his mouth. As expected, it was neither especially good nor especially bad, the sort of taste that deserved a 7 out of 10.
"The world’s always mean."
Like Marin said, Luke had also been brought here from time to time.
Though it’s probably going to be more annoying than I expected.
The thing he had assigned Luke to do was nothing other than investigate Bipolar.
If someone who did not know the situation heard that, they might think he could just smash the whole thing down, but it was not that simple.
As Hagen had said, Bipolar were a thoroughly sleazy bunch. They hid all over the city, moved their hideouts often, and never gathered in large groups at once.
If Kael launched a raid, it was obvious they would disappear and hide on purpose.
Kael was the impatient type. He did not want a boring chase.
Whack-a-mole really isn’t my thing.
If possible, he wanted to tear the roots out in one clean stroke.
Whether that would actually happen was another matter.
He had assigned Luke to gather information, but to be honest, he did not expect much from it.
It was just something to keep him busy while Kael thought of a way to deal with Bipolar. If something came out of it, good. If not, whatever.
Bipolar’s reputation was terrible even among the citizens.
There was no reason to think well of bastards whose main sources of income were stolen goods and human trafficking.
What would be the best way to handle this....
Kael propped his chin on his hand and sank into thought. Leaving them alone felt wrong. It was like having a thorn stuck in his throat.
And then there’s that curse....
He had no real proof, just a gut feeling, but he could not shake the suspicion that Bipolar might somehow be connected to that curse as well.
"Kraaaah! This damned thing!!"
Just then, the tavern owner’s irritated shout rang out.
Marin jumped and asked, "What? Why are you yelling all of a sudden?"
"A rat just got into the beer barrel! It was barely filled not long ago!"
"Huh? Really? Fish it out quickly!"
"Haa, even if I fish it out now, I have to throw the whole thing away anyway. Damn it, I just lost money."
"Aww, you should’ve been more careful."
It was the kind of unfortunate accident that made a sigh come out on its own just from hearing about it.
There were plenty of rats and insects in medieval times.
It was unavoidable. There were no pest control companies like on Earth, and hygiene standards were poor.
Still, throwing away all that beer is a shame.
Even if it was sour and had a fishy taste, beer was still beer. To throw out an entire fresh barrel just because one rat had fallen in and died was wasteful beyond belief.
It was a pity, but there was nothing to be done. No one wanted to drink beer that a rat had drowned in.
Beer isn’t the important thing right now. I need to figure out what to do about Bipolar first....
...Wait.
Something kept circling in his head.
A feeling that, if handled right, he might have found the thread to pull.
If I try to find them outside, it won’t be easy. But what if they’re not outside?
If you were going to detonate a bomb anyway, it was more effective to set it off from the inside rather than the outside.
Bipolar’s main income was stolen goods and human trafficking.
Stolen goods could be hidden, but people were harder to hide. Living humans were troublesome enough, and corpses rotted quickly at room temperature, so they were a headache in more ways than one.
If I play this right....
This might be possible as a drive them out hunt.
The corner of Kael’s mouth split wide into a grin.
Just then the tavern door opened, and a group of black-clad men came pouring inside.
At once, a bad feeling hit him.
"...Huh. Were you in the middle of a meal, boss?"
"Sorry for interrupting your meal!"
"We’re sorry!"
...Well, of course.
His appetite died on the spot.