Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: To Do
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"......"
Baekrin peered into the safe, furrowing her brow.
There was no golden glow she'd been hoping for.
Just a single scrap of paper,
and a glass vial filled with a sloshing red liquid.
"This is it?"
She grumbled without hiding her disappointment,
and tossed the contents onto my stomach.
"Ack...!"
The weight of the glass vial slamming into my solar plexus made me dry-heave.
"You crazy bitch... on a patient's stomach..."
"Can't read. Read it for me."
Baekrin plopped down beside me and said indifferently.
"And what's this? Booze?"
"......You're so ignorant."
I picked up the glass vial with my trembling hands.
The glistening red liquid sloshed around, clinging stickily to the sides as it trickled down.
The moment I unscrewed the cap, an artificial, cloyingly sweet scent wafted into my nose.
Healing Potion.
The essence born from the messy intercourse of magic and alchemy,
a badass item that could replicate a god's 'miracle' in portable form.
Judging by its richness and brightness, it looked mid-grade at least.
Even haggled down to rock-bottom price, it'd still cost 20 gold per vial.
Lucky me, getting my hands on something this pricey and rare.
"Not booze. Medicine."
"Medicine?"
"Yeah. Exactly what I desperately need right now."
I dumped the whole vial into my mouth without hesitation.
Gulp, gulp.
"Urp...... Blech."
The taste was the worst.
First time trying it myself, but just because it smelled sweet didn't mean it tasted good.
Like rotten tomatoes drowned in sugar and boiled down.
But the effect was immediate.
The moment it hit my stomach, a scorching heat spread from my esophagus throughout my body.
The excruciating pain wracking my entire frame began to subside,
and color returned to my drained face.
"Hoo...... Now I can breathe."
I pulled the vial from my mouth.
A tiny bit of red liquid sloshed at the bottom.
I shook it out over the crudely stitched gash on my forearm
and the cloth covering the hole in my thigh where Baekrin had sewn it up.
Sizzle—
"Guh...!"
The sound of flesh burning rose with white smoke, bringing a stinging pain.
The recommended use for this potion was oral ingestion.
They'd added that fragrance specifically to make you want to shove it in your mouth.
But most people
usually applied it directly to wounds like this, using it sparingly.
Even the lowest-grade potions that low-rank knights clutched like lifelines cost 5 gold.
Given the price,
chugging it like candy in one go just didn't sit right with commoner sensibilities or wallets.
Plus, sprinkling it straight on the wound had the bonus of disinfecting it,
and the skin healed noticeably faster.
A bit of frugal wisdom born from thriftiness and poverty.
Of course, I was in such a rush that I used the whole thing up.
The moment I thriftily emptied the vial and set it down on the floor.
Whack—!
"Agh! Fuck!"
Fire exploded on the back of my head. A strike so sharp my eyes nearly bulged out.
Turning around,
Baekrin was glaring at me with axe-like eyes.
"Why'd you use it all up on your own?"
"......What?"
I was so flabbergasted I couldn't speak.
"Hey, you fucking idiot! Then should a perfectly fine bitch like me eat it?"
I pointed at my ragdoll-of-a-body and spat out my grievance.
"I was bleeding buckets—if I didn't drink it, I'd be dead!"
"How the hell should I know? We should split it. It's spoils of war."
This bitch was serious.
A woman who valued loot over human life.
"Don't you have any blood or tears in you?"
"Blood comes out. Tears sometimes, when I yawn."
With that retort, she nodded toward the scrap of paper.
"So, what's this?"
"Tch... Hold on."
I picked up the stiff paper.
Reading the text on it,
[ Imperial Bank Deposit Certificate ]
[ Deposited Amount: 1,264 Gold ]
"......Holy shit."
My breath caught for a moment.
Crime really does pay, huh.
Drug dealing actually made bank.
This wasn't an amount a slum rat could touch.
"What? Why the face?"
"......Do you even know what a bank is?"
"Yeah. Never used one."
Figures. What a barbarian.
Of course, I'd never used one either.
I pointed at the scorpion bastard's corpse.
"This is proof that he deposited money at the bank."
"Money? How much?"
"One thousand two hundred sixty-four. Can't you read numbers?"
"Thou... thousand?"
Baekrin's eyes went wide as saucers.
She scurried over and elbow-smashed my gut,
"Guhk!"
snatched the paper, and stared holes through it.
"This... is a thousand gold?"
"Urk... Yeah, you... illiterate bitch..."
"So, if we take this, they give us the money?"
Of course not.
If it were that easy, how nice would that be.
In the Kingdom of Bellua, there were two banks.
One was the Kaintrea Bank run by that bitch Sharl's family. That place was airtight.
You needed solid ID, proof of residence, and a noble or merchant's guarantee of credit.
Anyone shady couldn't even cross the threshold.
And the other was the one that issued this.
The Imperial Bank, headquartered in the massive empire of Arkan at the continent's center.
Those guys were different. Money was all that mattered.
Even slum rats like me, or any perverted rag-worm trash,
as long as you brought cash, they'd open an account at any branch across the continent without questions.
That's why even a disgraced criminal knight like this scorpion fucker stashed his money here.
The key issue was, to withdraw that money,
you needed the account holder's set password.
No ID or face needed,
but without matching the password on this scrap of paper, they wouldn't cough up a single coin.
That was the secret to the Imperial Bank's credit system across the continent.
Unless the password was written down somewhere else,
the only guy who memorized it was dead as a doornail,
so this certificate was now just ass-wipe paper.
Of course, Baekrin, oblivious to that,
had eyes glittering with greed.
I pretended to think for a bit,
"Yeah. They will."
"Whoa!! Then we're filthy rich now!"
"Damn right. I used the potion 'cause I needed it bad, but this we split fair."
"Yeah yeah! Let's split it!!"
Baekrin bounced around excitedly.
I gave her my most heartwarming smile,
"You hold onto it."
"Huh? You sure?"
"With your personality, wouldn't you worry if I held it?"
"Obviously. You'd run off with it."
Jeez, so honest.
"See? If I hold it and lose it or bolt, that'd suck.
So you keep it safe, and later we go cash it in together."
Even to me, it sounded unlike my usual self, so Baekrin stared piercingly.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion for a moment...
"Fine. Lose it and you're dead."
"...Why would I die if you're holding it."
Then her eyes relaxed, and she grinned in satisfaction.
'Heh, stupid bitch.'
Living off scraps her whole life, she had a killer eye for people—or so she thought.
Look at those dollar-sign eyes.
Odds were, she'd ditch me and eat it solo.
Go on, try running off alone all excited.
I could already imagine the look on this shithead's face. So fucking thrilling.
Whether she got humiliated at the bank,
or chased by guards as a fraud, none of my business.
One-time paid partnership anyway—she could handle her own mess.
Now, just set the stage for her to bail solo.
"Haa... I'm beat. Body hurts... (in a dramatic tone)"
I got up from my spot
and threw myself onto the plush leather sofa in the corner of the scorpion's room.
"Hey, let's rest first."
"Here? Really?"
Baekrin recoiled, pointing at the blood-soaked floor.
"Yeah. I'm dying of exhaustion."
"Just sleep outside."
"Bank opens at dawn. Let's crash till then."
I buried myself deep in the sofa without waiting for her reply.
It had some blood, but compared to my state, it was nothing.
"......Do what you want."
Baekrin grumbled, looked around,
then suddenly glanced at me hesitantly.
"Hey, employer."
"What now."
"Maybe..."
She pointed at the door with her finger.
"Can I go pick up those coins I tossed outside?"
"......"
What a vicious bitch.
Even with a deposit certificate worth over a thousand gold (okay, worthless paper),
she was stingy about a few silver coins and wanted to scour the corpse field at dawn?
Or maybe she was already planning her getaway.
"Go for it. Finder's keepers."
"Heehee. Mine then?"
Baekrin dashed out excitedly.
Watching her cloak flap as she vanished, I let out a hollow chuckle.
"...Bye, money ghost."
Nice meeting ya. Let's never meet again.
.....
Thud.
Thud thud.
"......Fuck."
I must've been truly wiped.
Fell asleep the second my eyes closed.
Problem was, some noise woke me up.
Felt like 10 minutes... no, not even 5.
[ Thud thud thud. ]
A faint but rhythmic noise.
And faint vibrations through the wall.
Still half-asleep, I rubbed my eyes and sat up.
Too heavy for rats.
Humans left? No way.
I'd personally slit throats and double-checked every charging bastard.
With her gone,
only I should be breathing in this building.
"Hoo... damn it."
Not refreshed—in fact, more sluggish—but no rest for me.
I forced my aching body up,
creak—
and headed downstairs toward the source.
First floor was still the grotesque scene.
This wasn't some game where bodies dissolve into particles on death.
Blood pools were starting to congeal stickily,
and corpses were becoming fly banquets.
[ Thud! Thud! Thud! ]
The sound grew clearer.
From the inner corner.
"Over there, huh."
Up close, a wooden door camouflaged on the floor.
Locked, but rusted and worn.
Padlock from outside.
Hmm.....
I bashed the lock a few times with my dagger hilt.
The corroded shackle snapped off with a clunk, and the hinges creaked open.
Opening the door,
"Urk...... Fuck."
I instinctively pinched my nose.
Far worse than the blood or rot outside,
a nauseating stench poured from within.
A narrow staircase leading into darkness.
Thud! Thud!
If my ears weren't lying,
definitely coming from below.
Breathing through my mouth instead of nose,
I cautiously descended.
.....
The basement was wider than expected.
Moist, muggy air clung stickily to my skin.
First thing I saw: wooden crates lining one wall.
Red powder spilling from open lids.
At least three times what I'd seen in the viper's warehouse.
Scorpion bastard called it whatever, but
this was the distributor for the area.
No surprise he had this much stashed.
But more than that,
Thud! Thud thud!
Opposite wall. Rusted iron bars shrouded in darkness.
Three on each side, six cells total.
I raised my torch to peer inside.
Not my first rodeo,
and I'd guessed from the outside padlock,
but still,
"......Sigh."
the sight beyond expectation made the nape of my neck ache.
First cell.
A woman naked as the day she was born crawled on the floor.
Or rather, was that even crawling?
Her limbs were all severed below knees and elbows.
Just a torso wriggling like a worm, stumps grinding against the floor.
Wounds blackened with necrosis, swarming with maggots, but
she grinned mindlessly, slamming her head against the wall. Thud, thud.
"You the one making noise?"
"Heh... hehehe..."
I spoke, and she looked up with unfocused eyes, laughing.
Laugh or cry? Hard to tell.
Drool mixed with bloody pus dripped from her mouth.
I gripped my dagger without hesitation.
"FYI, I killed everyone upstairs?"
Stab.
Told her and ended it.
Didn't want her ghost haunting me for revenge later.
No favors expected.
She convulsed briefly and flopped over.
The head-banging stopped. Finally quiet.
Pulled the blade, moved to the next.
Second cell.
This woman's mouth was forcibly pried open and fixed wide.
Lips sliced off,
teeth all yanked, leaving grotesque gums.
"Mmph...!"
She writhed at the sight of me.
Terror or hallucination? Unclear.
Suddenly, a documentary from my past life flashed by.
An interview with a defector.
[ They pull out all the teeth of women serving the Dear Leader. ]
[ Why? So they don't snag while sucking. ]
[ And in case they get ideas and bite it off. ]
Probably same reason here.
But back there, they'd at least use modern tools for extraction.
Here? Ripped out barbarically—gums mashed to rot.
"Damn, who wants to stick their dick in that?"
I tilted my head.
I had a healthy morning wood-maker myself, always positive about lust,
but this...
My stomach wasn't that strong.
"Mmph...! Hmph...!"
"Ah, sorry. I'll send you off quick."
I reversed my grip on the dagger.
"No point living like that—you can't even chew."
Slice.
Slashed her throat without pause.
Blood sprayed, writhing stopped.
Third cell.
This was worse.
Rusted iron rods pierced her body like a porcupine.
Shoulders, thighs, breasts, even abdomen.
Dozens scraping bone through flesh, yet
eyes rolled back, moaning in ecstasy.
"Ahn... yes... more... stab me more..."
Ecstasy from the scrap devouring her.
The ones I just killed, this one—
all powder addicts, but madness took different paths.
One enjoys pain, one trembles in fear, one laughs insane.
Curable?
Think a sec. Answer's obvious.
Impossible. Physically, mentally.
[ That legless whore? ]
[ Are you mad? Bring that filth into my mansion? ]
Who in this world would give them a glance.
Treat them.
Give shelter.
Not in my experience.
No reason or ability from me.
So, only one thing to do.
Stab.
"Haa... uh......"
Blade to the heart,
she screamed in final pleasure,
drip drip.
urinates between her legs,
and breathed her last.
Thinking again,
only one thing to do.
Kill them quick and painless.
Only one thing.
Erase all traces under threat-disguised orders.
Only one thing.
My to-do.
Fourth, fifth.
Kept watching, speaking, swinging the blade.
Erasing lingering lives one by one.
Screams, moans, laughter.
All gone, silence reigned.
"......"
Then, before the final sixth cell.
Different from the others:
less bodily mutilation.
And not one, but two.
"Haa... ah... haa......"
"Mommy, mommy, hungry. Mommy?"
Mother and daughter, probably.
A girl just hitting 10 maybe,
and the woman who looked like her mother.
The mother...
"......Beat?"
A familiar face.