Sweeping Operation (3)
Sweat mixed with liquor trickled down his forehead, and the snacks stuck to his hair fell to the floor. Yet Bellum's expression didn't change a bit. Instead, he wiped his face with the cloth covering the sofa and opened his mouth.
"Did our young master have some kind of grievance?"
"None, you bastard."
"Then why the hell...?"
"I told you. I've come to my senses."
Bellum's face twisted in even greater confusion.
"We've only known each other for a year, but I know you well. You wouldn't betray us over something that petty."
"Betrayal? Don't make it sound so grand."
"Be honest. Didn't like the goods? Or was it the money? If it's money..."
Bellum opened the secret door in the floor and pulled out a heavy pouch.
"A thousand gold. That should do it, right?"
He tossed it toward my sofa. I reached out to catch it. That's when a faint whoosh of wind reached my ears—from the ceiling.
Thwip! Something sliced through the air silently from behind.
"Even this is a trap, huh."
Whoosh! I snorted and hurled a dagger at Bellum.
"Kuh, what the...!"
I ignored his reaction and looked up. My eyes met the assassin's. His widened in shock.
"Get lost, you moron."
Clack! I caught the falling dagger between my palms. Blocking the attack, I yanked his arm downward.
"Urk-!"
The assassin's throat slammed into the sofa's backrest. A groan escaped him. He recovered quickly, but it was too late. His neck and head were already in my grasp.
"W-wait...!"
The desperate assassin reached out. I gave him one piece of advice.
"An assassin who panics? Be more careful next time."
Of course, that next time would be his next life.
Crack! I snapped his neck.
Bellum's subordinate, sent to kill me, met his end just like that.
"Hah."
I shoved the limp body aside and turned to Bellum. His face was contorted like a demon's. The fool's mask was long gone.
"How dare you repay my kindness like this!!"
"You're one to talk, treating others like suckers, you bastard."
It was laughable, him raging after stabbing me in the back despite all the good feeding he'd gotten. What I'd gotten back was barely 1% of the profits, anyway.
"And why's the guy trying to assassinate me so damn chatty? Criminal scum always think alike."
"You punk don't even know your place-!!"
"Eww, fix up that ugly mug. Face like a criminal stereotype."
I kept talking, ignoring him.
"You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!!"
Bingo. His pride was shallow enough to fall for that taunt. His rage-twisted face was almost entertaining.
Of course, Bellum wasn't the type to charge in blindly. He might seethe inside, but in a fight, he stayed cold. Looks aside, he was the head of an organization—a mid-boss.
A guy like that wouldn't be dumb in combat.
-Foolish wastrel. Better abandon any thoughts of an easy death.
Bellum vanished in an instant. Even in the brightly lit room, I couldn't spot a trace of him—not even his shadow. Only his voice echoed from thin air.
Stealth. The assassin Bellum's specialty.
A technique that perfectly concealed everything about him, regardless of place or time. Invaluable for an assassin operating in the shadows—a dream skill.
Still, I didn't care. I replied leisurely.
"Why's a guy about to die so damn talkative."
-If you're counting on that bitch outside, give it up. Think she can make it here?
The bastard had a real talent for comedy. I nearly burst out laughing.
"Of course. Didn't you hear?"
-S-save me!!
-Why won't that bitch tire out-!!
-B-Bellum, h-help...!
The screams from outside multiplied in real time—never once decreasing. She was handling at least fifty at once.
"And Bellum, let me give you some advice."
Maybe because he was badmouthing her. My voice carried a hint of seriousness.
"Don't underestimate Elraim. She's not someone a worm like you can dismiss just because she's young or a woman."
A few months from now, Expert Upper. Next year, Master realm. The year after, Arden family knight captain.
Born a commoner, rising to the pinnacle of the Arden family at 24 amid geniuses who could fly and soar—Elraim was that kind of person. Pure talent? Top among the supporting cast, on par with the protagonist.
And this clown treats her like nothing? You?
Even if Bellum became a Master, he'd never touch her toes.
"Not that a mere criminal like you would understand."
-You son of a bitch-!!
Two whooshes of cutting wind. Projectiles flew from both sides, fired simultaneously to disorient.
But that was it.
"You think that'll kill even a rat?"
I swept my arms through the air, snagging the daggers limply.
-H-how...!
"If I couldn't catch this, I'd quit being a knight."
Bellum's stealth was top-tier, but his projectile skills? Mediocre.
A Master Bellum would've muffled sound and sight with stealth on the projectiles. But right now, he was Expert Upper. Stealth only on himself.
With good dynamic vision and skill, it was catchable.
-This is impossible!
"Impossible my ass. Now show yourself!"
I plugged my nose with mana, tossed a sneezing powder pouch, and sliced it with my sword. White powder scattered.
I spread it thoroughly with wind magic.
-You think this'll reveal me...?
"Shut up. How's the nose? Itchy?"
-What the... Ah... Ah-choo!
A massive sneeze echoed. The powder wasn't for visibility.
This toy had better effects than expected.
◈ Inhaling the powder through the nose causes sneezing for 10 minutes. (*Caution: Once inhaled, the effect persists until it stops.)
I'd thought it useless, but it was perfect for cracking Bellum.
His stealth was a pain. It erased his presence entirely—no detection magic worked. Even Master-level senses missed it.
In the novel, they caught him with all-around binding magic. In the game, with the legendary item [Space Bind].
I had neither mana nor item. But stealth was tricky to maintain—lots to focus on.
Just the right stimulus...
"Ah-choo!"
Bellum finally appeared, grimacing as his nose itched.
"How's that? Itchy as hell, right?"
"Kill you, ah-choo! I'll kill you!"
"Getting mad over this?"
I held up the poison pouch.
"Know what this is?"
"The poison I gave you?"
Bellum's face paled blue as he yelled urgently. He'd realized what I planned.
"Stop! If you use that, even you won't shrug it off!"
"Nah, don't worry about me."
Arden family martial arts are pretty special.
I tore open the poison pouch.
'Fuck!'
Bellum cursed inwardly. He was going insane with frustration.
The wastrel he knew was a weak-bodied, talentless moron.
But it should've been that way... so what the hell was this?
Whoosh! Bellum hurled dozens of projectiles. They filled the air without escape.
Clang! But they bounced off a shield conjured in midair.
Bellum didn't panic, stomping the floor.
Pfsh! More projectiles exploited the shield's gaps.
"That all you got?"
The wastrel sneered, swinging his sword. He batted away the needle-thin projectiles.
"My turn."
He kicked off the ground. A magic circle formed underfoot, wind coiling his legs.
'Fast!'
Frightening speed closed in. Slower than him base, but magic made it even.
Bellum didn't want to clash. He surged mana, firing projectiles at top speed while moving.
"Doesn't work no matter how many times."
He muttered, deflecting daggers or blocking with sword.
As the wastrel said. Omnidirection assaults, blind-spot shots, room traps—nothing landed.
Magic was worse. Projectiles wasted on shields, physical edges countered by reinforcement.
'How the hell does that bastard use magic...!'
Sword and dagger skills were baffling enough—now magic too?
Bellum doubted if this was the wastrel he knew.
Not magic tools—the vivid circles proved the wastrel cast them.
'Damn! If only I could stealth...!'
He thought while harassing with projectiles. With stealth, he'd have killed him despite magic.
But he couldn't use his specialty. The poison.
The poison he'd given fused with mana, slowly corroding inside. Pain surged on stealth attempts, breaking it.
Core was static mana. Sneezing made him inhale more, prolonging the effect.
'But why's that guy fine!'
Yet baffling—the wastrel breathed normally in the poisoned room, face unflushed.
"How the hell are you fine?!"
Bellum yelled unwittingly.
The leisurely reply:
"Oh, this?"
He demonstratively inhaled the poison.
"A villain like you will never get it."
"Mocking me?!"
Exploding at the taunt in this failed scenario.
"That's why you'll never make it."
The wastrel didn't stop. If taunted, he doubled down.
At some point, Bellum's projectiles slowed.
"Running low on darts, huh?"
"Shut up!"
Proving me right unwittingly.
'Ten—no, nine left.'
Bellum carried 250 total. I'd counted each toss.
'In a game, I'd get an achievement.'
Deplete all and kill for "King of Mockery". Hence the habit.
'Time to end it.'
Darts gone, exhausted, poisoned face rotting. Mana depleted visibly.
All as planned. Worth the time.
I could've faced him unprepared—but didn't.
Bellum had many weaknesses for a mid-boss. Why take the hard road?
Seal stealth, halve power; eliminate rest, down to 30%. Fight on favorable terms—that's how you win bloody fights.
"Bellum, you asked why the poison doesn't work on me?"
"Shut uuup!!"
His reaction lately. I ignored, drawing mana from my dantian.
Vigorously swirling mana. Untainted, it exuded clear energy.
"Get excited."
First time using Arden martial arts in this world.
Right then, my sword gleamed violet.