Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Hunt the Weaklings First. (3)
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"Urk."
Noah gritted his teeth, desperately trying not to be dragged along by the young man's strength. His instincts screamed with a foreboding premonition.
But it was no use. The hand gripping his dagger steadily rose upward,
"-!"
until it was ultimately aimed at his own throat. That was the moment he realized what the young man meant by "helping."
"Ugh!"
Noah shook his head wildly in refusal. Yet the young man just smiled with utter composure.
"Why, don't you like it?"
A chilling laugh, as if he were genuinely savoring someone else's pain.
'I picked the wrong guy.'
Noah felt his vision go white. Cold sweat poured down his back.
'He's a complete lunatic.'
In the meantime, the blade smoothly touched his neck. Unable to endure it any longer, Noah shouted.
"St-stop! Stop it!"
"But I don't want to?"
A retort laced with the implication of why he should listen to Noah.
Soon, the sharp tip of the blade pressed against his skin. It was just a hair's breadth now, but it would soon erupt into searing agony and tear him apart.
The iron grip on his wrist promised as much.
"St-stop..."
Now Noah couldn't even raise his voice. He feared that any rash movement would slice his throat open.
Then, the moment the blade pierced his flesh with a stinging pain,
"I-I'll go!"
Noah finally submitted to the young man.
"I'll take you! Please, just stop!"
"Take me?"
"N-no. I'll escort you there. So please, this—!"
Moving his neck caused the blade to sink a little deeper.
The keenly sharpened edge sliced through his skin effortlessly. A burning heat followed as blood trickled down the blade and soaked his hand.
Drip, drip.
The sound of blood drops hitting the floor rang unnaturally loud in his ears.
"......"
Suddenly, the young man behind him fell silent.
'...What?'
Noah froze in place.
Having turned his back to the young man, he couldn't see what expression or look was in his eyes.
And yet.
'Why this chill.'
Was it like sinking into an icy abyss? An overwhelming terror, as if facing a colossal beast, crushed him.
"Uh, ah."
Noah's jaw trembled.
The blood trickling down his nape no longer mattered. The fiery pain felt distant now.
Something was behind him.
Something not human, an unfathomable abyss, an impenetrable darkness.
It was baring its teeth right behind him, tongue flicking ecstatically as if eager to devour him.
"Uh, ugh......"
When faced with unbearable terror, human muscles abandon reason and cease to function.
Sssss—
Noah's crotch grew wet, a yellow puddle spreading across the floor. A mistake he hadn't made since he was ten.
"...Ha."
A sigh came from behind. It was ragged, as if he'd been sprinting for ages.
"......"
The young man stayed silent for a moment, as if holding something back. His hand gripping Noah's left trembled faintly.
At some point, the oppressive aura pressing on Noah's back slowly dissipated.
"Ugh......"
Noah slumped against the wall, his eyes half-lidded.
He didn't even have the strength to speak. His soaked pants were uncomfortable, but he barely noticed.
"What are you gonna tell the coachman?"
The young man's question pierced Noah's ears. His tone was razor-sharp, each word spat out deliberately.
Even in his confusion, Noah instinctively knew how to respond.
"I'll say it was my mistake......"
He pleaded in a near-sobbing voice.
"I'll say there was some mix-up......"
"......"
"I'll cover for you at the shop too......"
A brief silence followed.
Noah squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing the rising tears. Not knowing what the young man behind him was thinking terrified him even more.
"Good."
The cheerful reply drew a sigh of relief from Noah.
"This is confiscated."
As the young man twisted Noah's left hand, he relinquished the dagger without resistance. At the same time, the hand pressing on his shoulder vanished.
"Ugh."
Noah leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. It felt like he'd stepped to the gates of hell and come back.
"Th-thank you......"
Noah slowly turned his head to look behind. He dreaded seeing something other than a human standing there.
Fortunately, it was just the robed young man from before.
'What the hell was that just now?'
Unable to comprehend it, Noah stared blankly at him. Only then did he notice the young man pointing at his nape.
"You're not planning to go out like this, right?"
"Ah."
Noah hurriedly clutched his neck. His palm came away sticky with blood.
"I'll wipe it... wipe it off and go."
"Yeah, and."
The young man's gaze drifted downward.
"Ah!"
Noah's face flushed crimson as he frantically grabbed at his pant legs.
"Just a moment, please wait just a bit."
"Hurry up. I hate wasting time."
"Yes, yes sir."
Noah hastily pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his neck, and wrapped it tightly to hide the wound.
Then he stripped off the slave's pants and put them on himself. He tossed his urine-soaked ones into a corner.
Once Noah finished tidying up, the young man said curtly.
"Let's go."
Noah scrambled out of the carriage. He glanced back to confirm the young man was following, then headed to the driver's seat.
In that time, his emotions shifted rapidly.
Once the terror faded, shame followed, and finally, burning rage took hold.
'You think I'll just show you the new slaves obediently?'
He ground his teeth inwardly.
Once at the shop, he'd pretend to guide him inside and drag him straight to the "mind alteration room." Bruno would be waiting there with his halberd.
'I'll turn you into new merchandise.'
Of course, after beating that insolence out of him first. He'd get chewed out for a failed deal, but that didn't matter.
'If this guy doesn't come back, that middle-aged man will reach out anyway. I can just play dumb.'
He couldn't let the bastard who scarred his neck, who made him look so pathetic, get away.
'No matter how skilled you are, you can't beat Bruno.'
And a few minutes later, he'd regret that a hole in his neck would have been preferable.
❖ ❖ ❖
Clop, clop.
The carriage barreled down the street energetically. People and buildings whipped past beside it.
"......"
In contrast, the driver's seat was deathly quiet.
The coachman stealing glances at me while driving, the young man pressed close to him with lips sealed tight.
And me, arm slung back, leaning against the seat.
Despite three people there.
'Hmph.'
I snorted inwardly.
The carriage was smoothly heading to their shop.
"Ah, looks like there was some mix-up. We should head back first."
The young man spoke to the coachman with a calm face.
"The customer too. That okay with you?"
He blinked at me busily. Impressive poise for someone who'd just pissed himself.
'Great acting skills.'
I recalled the moment and chuckled. No joke—this was sincere.
'To sense Requiem's presence and recover so quickly.'
What roused him was undoubtedly rage toward me. More precisely, an intense urge to drag me to the shop and torment me.
'How else could he be so composed?'
I toyed with the dagger in my pocket, lost in thought.
'Hope it'll be fine.'
It was just an instant. The moment a drop of blood from his neck hit the floor and its scent wafted up.
The madness of "Abel," which I'd been suppressing, went berserk. Requiem thrashed in response.
Like a starving slave before food, or a desert wanderer finding an oasis.
A desperate, violent, savage frenzy.
In that moment, I couldn't think. I just bit my lips until they bled, struggling to regain reason.
What saved me in that tug-of-war was,
'...Hm?'
A pungent stench assaulting my nose. The young man's urine smell rising from the floor.
'Fuck me.'
My already heightened senses made it feel like I'd been dunked in a piss pit.
But it snapped me out of it. I barely quelled the urge.
'Getting this worked up over just blood smell.'
I clicked my tongue softly.
With Abel's innate madness amplified by Requiem, my power had doubled.
'No, quadrupled?'
It felt even more. I sensed it'd be tough every time I saw blood from now on.
But.
"......"
I raised my hand and rubbed my forearm. Specifically, where Requiem's pattern was etched.
'If I use Requiem.'
The outcome would be different. Very different.
I tucked the dagger deeper into my pocket. No need to use it further today.
The carriage was slowing down. A sign we'd nearly arrived.
I let a pleased smile play on my lips.
'Wonder how many'll be there.'
Buying five slaves was just an excuse to draw them out.
'My real target has been their shop from the start.'
No way a provincial trading firm runs a slave trade. It had to be a branch of some massive capital-based guild.
Operating secretly meant minimal staff, no guards rushing in.
'Perfect setup for me to handle.'
Starting something I couldn't clean up would be a hassle. Better to hit places like this.
'At least five.'
These two beside me, plus guards on duty, and the boss overseeing it all.
That'd be enough to sate Requiem's hunger.
'A fine feast.'
Well-fed types like them would have good flesh—tasty, no doubt.
The emptiness in my gut flicked its tongue like it was drooling.
'Just wait a bit, I'll fill you soon.'
I snickered and wiggled my fingers. The gauntlet's soft lining embraced my hand with each movement.
'Gripping it with the gauntlet should make it doable.'
My goal was annihilation.
Kill every employee in that shop. Partly to satisfy Requiem, but also because 'they might figure out who I am soon.'
To avoid leaving loose ends.
Philip wore a robe and was cautious, but these people weren't blind.
'A tiny clue, and they'd guess Philip's identity.'
That's why they bit the bait of "my master has a nasty temper."
I was sure when the guy next to me flashed his eyes earlier.
Continuing this deal might lead Philip to their shop in a carriage like me today.
'Not by choice.'
Not on the driver's seat, but loaded inside, unconscious.
'Can't let these small fries get in my way.'
I'd sweep aside anything blocking my path.
"We've arrived."
Finally, the carriage stopped in front of a shop.