Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Come, Sweet Death
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Come, sweet death.
About ten days had passed since that day I first met Esira.
The child was still brimming with wariness.
I'm really not doing anything to her.
Not even human experiments or anything.
If I'd known it'd be like this, I should've at least pretended to be a good citizen.
This just makes me look exactly like a kidnapper.
She gets along decently with the other kids.
She's just especially guarded around me.
'Even a hedgehog wouldn't be this prickly with you.'
I nearly snapped that at her, but forced myself to shake my head.
Guess it's not time yet.
Thinking back to Esira in the original story, her personality was like that from the start anyway.
Besides, to a kid who nearly died at an adult's hand.
I couldn't exactly force her to warm up to me.
Still, the fact that she followed my suggestion to come along was something.
A sudden uneasy thought crossed my mind.
She didn't just come along because she thought I'd kill her if she refused, did she?
God, I hope not.
One might think that.
Asrania.
Even though not all her game lore was revealed, the info that was out there was enough to make her infamous.
If she'd appeared properly in the game, she'd have taken the final boss spot nine times out of ten.
So from the kid's perspective, freaking out at her self-proclaimed protector wasn't unreasonable.
I genuinely wanted to treat young Esira well.
She probably had zero good memories to her name.
Couldn't I at least be one warm recollection?
Even if she later joined the protagonist's group and went through hellish trials, at least right now, in this moment, I wanted her to feel happy.
I'm not some powerless extra who'd possessed into this world.
I might not play the hero, but with this strength.
I was confident I could protect Esira's happiness.
Yeah, that's what I thought at first.
"Aren't you bored?"
"Not at all."
"Anything you wanna learn?"
"Nothing comes to mind right now."
"Hungry?"
"I'm fine."
Fine. Nope. No.
Every response was a rejection.
At first, I figured she just wasn't used to me yet.
After a week, I told myself she needed more time to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings and vowed to wait patiently.
But the distance wouldn't close.
Just when it felt like talking to a wall, a horrifying possibility flashed through my mind.
'Maybe she would've been better off staying at the mine.'
Sure, the work was grueling, but rolling around with peers who understood her might've been happier for a kid.
How desperate was I to even think that?
Doubt started creeping in seriously.
'Guess I really have no talent for child-rearing.'
By the time I reached that conclusion, I was on the verge of tears.
What should I do?
How do I fix this?
Every night, I tossed and turned with those questions.
Would moping make food appear or improve our relationship?
No.
Time for a major strategy overhaul.
The universal key that works anywhere, anytime.
Delicious food.
Doesn't eating something tasty lift everyone's mood? It's a universal truth for humanity.
I racked my brain.
Places famous in the game.
Eating just to survive versus savoring delicious meals makes all the difference in quality of life.
"Esira."
"...Yeah."
The kid, staring blankly out the window, startled and turned around.
"Get ready. We're going out."
"...Where to?"
"A great place for food. Pretty good spot."
I added it as casually as possible.
"Wanna check it out?"
Esira's eyes rolled around.
Clearly pondering what to do.
'We're just going to eat, and she's this suspicious?'
Does she think I'm dragging her deep into the woods for "this is your last supper"?
My stomach twisted, but I kept a straight face.
Esira hesitated a moment, then nodded ever so cautiously.
"...Okay."
Good.
She still hadn't let her guard down, but at least she didn't say no.
Or maybe she just couldn't refuse.
I walked side by side with Esira down the street.
Close enough our shoulders nearly brushed.
But whenever my hand came within reach, she'd smartly step half a pace away.
'Hedgehog for real.'
Swallowing my grumbling thoughts, I pointed to the end of the road, down the hill.
"There."
A wooden building hung with red lanterns. From the outside, it looked like a cozy restaurant.
"Let's go in."
I confidently grabbed the door handle.
Screeech.
As the door opened, a potent smell assaulted my nose.
Thick booze, roasted meat and oil, a hint of burnt seasoning.
"Hahaha! Drink up, drink!"
"Two more black beers over here!"
"Let's go all out today!"
Rowdy cheers.
I knew instantly.
Ah.
This isn't a restaurant.
'...It's a tavern?'
I froze with my hand on the handle.
It was definitely a great place.
'Wait, hold on.'
This wasn't a calm dining spot—it was a booze-soaked gut-washing den.
And I'd brought a minor here.
"This is really it?"
Esira asked in a small voice.
I barely managed to control my expression and nodded.
"Yeah. Pretty sure."
Pretty sure, huh.
Me too.
Well, fantasy world. Pubs doubling as eateries are common. First floor bar, second floor restaurant or whatever...
Desperately rationalizing to myself, I gently nudged Esira's stiff back inside.
"Come on, let's sit."
I picked the most tucked-away table possible.
Around us, rough-looking men clinked mugs, mixing curses and laughter as they tore into snacks.
Esira sat, her legs dangling without touching the floor.
Her small frame looked even more out of place in the noisy chaos.
'...This feels terribly wrong.'
A bad premonition poked at my side.
A server slapped down a menu and left.
I opened it with my last shred of hope.
Booze. Booze. Booze. More booze.
Next to it, a dense list of bar snacks.
Jerky, cheese, peanuts, sausages, fried assortment, smoked meat.
"...Ha."
A sigh escaped me.
This was insane.
We needed to leave now.
No order yet, no payment.
With a minor in tow, no one could complain if we bailed.
'Yeah, let's go somewhere else. Not here.'
I mentally settled it and started rising from my chair.
That's when it happened.
"Hey, hear about Asrania pulling off another big score?"
My spine stiffened at the name from behind.
"Ten guys? Twenty? Split 'em all in half, they say."
"Keh, what a vicious bitch. Must've gone feral at the smell of blood."
The men chewed on my name like bar fodder.
I glanced back slightly.
A group at the opposite table.
Faces flushed from drink.
Messy hair, loose shirts, untied neckties.
No desire to get close.
Didn't even want to deal with them.
"But y'know, I've always wondered."
A dark-skinned man with scars chuckled, spinning his mug.
"Wonder what that silver-haired bitch is like in bed?"
"Dude, you're nuts."
"Nah, body like that kills, right? They say crazy chicks are wilder at night?"
"Hahaha! Wild taste! Wanna roll with a murder ghost?"
"Why not? Strip her down, might be worth a look. Tie her up and..."
"Puhahaha!"
The filthy words drowned in raucous laughter.
I lowered my eyelids.
'...Too disgusting to listen to.'
Vulgar enough to make me want to wash my ears.
Luckily, Esira seemed not to catch the conversation amid the din.
Just hunching her shoulders under the menacing vibe.
'Gotta get out fast.'
Staying longer would just sour the mood.
Educational nightmare too.
"Get up, Esira."
"...Huh?"
As I moved to stand.
The guy who'd just been using my name for dirty talk.
Our eyes locked head-on.
"... ."
His eyes widened round.
Drunken pupils fixed on my face, then blatantly scanned my body.
Lips parted slowly.
'Oh.'
No sound, but his mouth clearly mouthed admiration.
Like a beast spotting prey.
Licking his chops.
'...No way.'
They say assumptions kill.
Bad omens never miss.
Ha.
Hoping it wasn't so.
The man set down his mug and staggered up.
The chair scraping the floor grated on my nerves.
"Hey."
"... ."
"You there, silver-hair missy."
Not worth responding.
I hurried toward the exit.
Ignore it.
Dodge shit not out of fear, but disgust.
The man was persistent.
Soon striding over to block my path.
Esira flinched. Trembling as if in disbelief.
Overwhelming booze stench.
"I called you, just gonna walk away?"
Yellow teeth bared.
"Whoa, up close you're the real deal. Not from around here, huh?"
Whistles from his buddies behind.
"Go get her, man!"
"Ooh, she's a looker!"
I looked up at him with ice-cold eyes.
"Move."
"Move? That's cold."
He shrugged exaggeratedly.
"Have a drink with big bro? Mood's perfect."
Big bro? Please.
Even if it was a pickup line.
There was an obvious minor right beside me.
If his eyes worked, he'd know that wasn't the line for this.
I fully shielded Esira behind me.
The man paused, then grinned more sleazily.
"Ah, that's why you're touchy. Got a kid too."
His gaze leered over my shoulder.
"Eh, no biggie. Mommy's even better."
"...What did you say?"
Brain pickled in booze and lust.
"Look closer, the brat's pretty cute too. Bet she'll be a knockout grown up."
He snickered, tongue slithering out long.
"If mom's busy, the daughter can sub in..."
Crunch!
No need to hear more.
No reason to let that filthy tongue wag another second.
I didn't even recall drawing.
The greatsword flashed from my back like lightning, smashing straight down on his skull.
The cranium shattered from inside.
Splat!
Watermelon burst, head losing form.
Red blood and white brain matter sprayed like fountains everywhere.
Headless body wobbled, then collapsed like crumbling dirt.
Thud.
All in a blink.
"Wh-what...?"
"Wh-what the hell?"
"You fucking bitch!?"
Only as the red pool spread did horror dawn on their faces.
I slammed the dripping greatsword down.
Unbearable killing intent.
Coiling through my veins.
I wanted to be good to the kid.
Leave her good memories.
So I endured, endured.
But these vermin dared mention my child?
Everything in sight turned to trash heaps.
"Don't think of running."
This is your grave.
I hefted the twin greatswords, slinging them diagonally over my shoulders.
Come at me all together.
Blackjack sat cross-legged at the counter corner, polishing her favorite sword.
A satisfied hum escaped each glide of the oiled cloth over the cool blade.
"Hm~ Hm~ Looking good today too. Sharp as ever."
The sword gleamed.
'Always a pretty face. Ain't no other girl like me.'
Admiring her reflection, winking this way and that—then.
Crash! Bang!
The whole building shook.
"...Noisy as hell, seriously."
Blackjack paused, perking her ears.
"Starting up again. Do these idiots get a power-up from eating?"
She wiped the oil residue off the blade.
This place looked like a normal tavern on the surface.
One step over the threshold: cards and dice dancing in a gambling den.
Where money stank, shit flies gathered—rough types in and out meant no quiet days.
She'd set the rules.
No fighting in the shop.
Murder especially forbidden.
Lose money and rage, get drunk and rowdy? She'd handle it clean.
No one who'd tasted her blade ever stirred again.
"Aaaagh! Sp-spare me!"
"You monster bitch, gaaah!"
Screams from the hall, followed by shattering and breaking.
"Ugh, really. Which dumbass is causing trouble now?"
Just sharpened it—no bloodstains, please.
But the sounds drilling her ears were off.
Not drunken scuffles.
Snapping, pounding, crushing.
"Sigh... Such a pain. Wanted a quiet night."
Blackjack sheathed her sword at her waist and rose slowly.
Long blade to her thigh.
Engraved with a trump card back pattern.
She crept quietly toward the hall.
"Hey, you lot! No fighting here, know the rules? Violations get my..."
She kicked the door open boldly—then.
"... ."
Words caught in her throat.
Bodies everywhere.
Amid splintered tables and chairs, corpses barely human-shaped sprawled.
One headless, one chest caved, one head smashed into the wall.
Blood not just wetting the floor—a glossy red mirror.
Fetid stench clawed down her throat.
The riot's center.
In the blood pool's midst.
A woman stood.
Twin greatswords man-sized in her hands.
Silver hair spotless, gleaming.
Her cold side-profile scanning corpses unnervingly eerie.
'...What the?'
No amateur skill.
Did that in short time?
Alone?
A small kid with matching silver hair stood a bit back.
Young, but.
The two of them?
Blackjack took a deep breath, aiming her sword tip at the woman.
"Hey! You there!"
"... ."
"No fighting in this shop. Murder's a big no! You trampled the rules good. Got it?"
Rules exist to be followed.
"Fists flying, I'd let slide maybe."
She scanned around.
Humans never rising again.
"This crossed the line."
Grip tightened on her sword.
"You broke this house's rules."
Then, the silver-haired woman slowly raised her head.
Red eyes met.
'...Huh?'
Familiar.
Too familiar.
"Hold up."
Blackjack unwittingly sucked in breath.
Silver hair. Red eyes. Twin greatswords.
No way.
No way, no way.
The woman stepped toward Blackjack.
First, nose caught blood reek.
Next, bone-chilling killing aura.
Last, certainty dawned.
"...A-Asrania?"
Sword nearly slipped from her grip.
Strength fled.
Rules? No fighting?
Screw that.
If it's Asrania, all rules meaningless.
Why's she in our shop?
Heart plummeted.
Target me?
Axiom hunter, me, Blackjack, here to clean up?
I just shuffled cards, sold booze, skimmed a bit off customers.
Didn't do anything bad!
Gambling's not a crime.
'...Ah, finally.'
It came.
Today's my execution day.
Blackjack squeezed her eyes shut in resignation.
Come, sweet death.