Chapter 129
Chapter 129
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: Bug Hunt (6)
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A gray-haired boy sat among the members of the 50th Cohort, who were scattered about in small groups, taking a break.
Schleman Hans pulled a small notebook from his pocket.
It was a sturdy-looking notebook with a black leather cover.
This was something Schleman had gone to great lengths to obtain.
Of course, that didn't mean the notebook itself was anything special.
It simply meant it had been hard to get a notebook in the Dragon's Cradle.
At the time he acquired it, it was just a blank notebook with nothing written in it.
Stroking it gently, Schleman wore a faint smile.
"It's just an ordinary notebook for now, but..."
The more he filled its pages going forward, the more special it would become.
And the front pages were already partially filled.
Schleman opened the notebook.
Rustle-.
As the sturdy cover flipped open, the first page came into view.
* * *
Name: Yuri Holland
Age: 16
Dragon Badge: Black Dragon Badge
Martial Prowess: Special Grade
Personality: Filthy
Other Notes:
- Hundred Steps Ritual record: 15 steps (highest record since the Dragon's Cradle was founded)
- Acquainted with Arin Helga and Bobikr Tancapurtabi.
- Believed to be an orphan.
- Believed to hail from the same region as Gunter Irons.
- Suspected to be responsible for the strange wooden structure in the northern sector.
- Quick-witted and selfish. Said to be very greedy.
- Hot-tempered with a bad personality, but exceptional skill makes him the one to watch out for most in the 50th Cohort.
* * *
The page was densely packed with detailed information on Yuri.
Rustle-.
He turned to the next page, revealing Gunter's information.
There were entries on Arin and Bobikr Tancapurtabi as well,
but none as detailed as Yuri's.
Flutter-.
The pages flipped rapidly under Schlemans's fingers.
The inner pages were still nearly pristine, as he hadn't been gathering information for long.
Thud-.
After quickly flipping through, Schleman closed the notebook.
His eyes gleamed brightly.
"Once this notebook is complete, there won't be anyone in the Cradle who can touch me."
To him, the notebook was more than just a collection of paper.
It was the sharpest, most ruthless weapon of all—keener than any blade.
"The only power that can surpass martial prowess... is information."
Some say wealth can buy martial strength.
Others claim power can command it.
But Schleman thought differently.
In this swordmaster era, where the strong devoured all,
nothing could surpass raw power.
Overwhelming strength could seize others' wealth at will,
and snap the necks of those in power with ease.
Thus, Schleman pondered.
In the swordmaster era, was there truly any power that could surpass martial might?
He was still wrestling with that question when
an incident occurred in his territory.
A boy barely over ten years old—a bounty hunter—had captured a wanted criminal over 190 cm tall, a hulking brute.
The man had even received regular army training before retiring, and his personal strength was considerable, deterring anyone from trying to take him in despite his wanted status.
People feared him and kept their distance.
Yet a ordinary boy who hadn't even learned basic martial arts—no, a boy who seemed frailer than his peers—had severed the head of this vicious criminal.
And the method he used was astonishing.
He'd hidden in the tavern's outhouse and thrust his sword in while the man was relieving himself.
Once word spread, many clicked their tongues, calling the boy a freak.
But what shocked Schleman more than the boy's tolerance for hiding in that filthy toilet for days amid the stench
was something else entirely.
Schleman sought out the young bounty hunter and asked.
How had he known the criminal would use that outhouse?
The boy replied:
[Eh, screw you! I'm already dying here from the shit poisoning, and now you're bugging me? Hey, if you wanna hear the answer, you gotta show some sincerity, right? You think I'm gonna spill it for free? Huh?]
...while forming a circle with his thumb and forefinger.
Schleman had his butler hand over a few golds before he got the answer.
[What, it's no big deal. That bastard's a regular at the place. He always drinks till he's half-dead, then crashes there when he's wasted. Plus, after watching a few more days, he always orders spicy snacks with his booze? Spicy food and booze—think his gut's surviving the next morning? Straight to the shitter first thing.]
The boy said he'd watched a few more days to confirm before hiding in the outhouse.
As a result, he boldly claimed the head of the criminal everyone feared and collected the bounty.
[That answer your question? I'm out.]
Scratching his shit-poisoned face, the bounty hunter boy left.
After he was gone, Schleman stood frozen in shock for a while.
"That's... no big deal?"
The boy called it nothing, but young Schleman saw it differently.
In that moment, he realized.
"The only power that surpasses martial prowess... it's information!"
The driving force that let that boy take down a giant criminal
was the intel he'd gathered from days of observation.
That day, the lesson from that nameless bounty hunter boy shaped the Schleman of today.
Squeeze-.
Clutching the leather notebook, Schleman scanned his surroundings.
"So far, everything's going according to plan."
Yuri Holland's strength seemed beyond his expectations, but not enough to derail things.
"Twelve squads left, excluding ours."
His primary plan was to leverage this force to eliminate Yuri Holland's Squad 1.
The secondary plan that followed
was codenamed "Mutual Devouring."
"Once Yuri Holland—the common enemy—is dealt with, the remaining squads will turn on each other. Gunter's squad lingering is a slight concern..."
But it wasn't overwhelmingly stronger.
What could squads of similar strength do?
"They'll hunt each other for the sole victory."
And if they all gathered in one place?
With just a little fanning of the flames, he could provoke a massive clash.
No—he had to make it happen.
That was the endgame Schleman desired.
"A grand battle where I can observe them all..."
His eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Why else would he sacrifice all those nobodies?
Their info wasn't worth recording in his notebook.
Only those skilled enough to potentially face him one day merited entry.
That was Schlemans's plan.
"I can forfeit this quest's victory."
Even without winning, gathering maximum intel was his goal.
He firmly believed the intel amassed would yield far greater value than this quest's prize, as he tucked the notebook away.
And at that very moment.
Murmur murmur-.
One side grew noisy as a group approached.
"Looks like 2nd Squad's back."
Meaning 3rd Squad—his own—had to rotate in.
Schleman stood, but sensed something off in the crowd gathering around 2nd Squad and headed over.
Pushing through, he saw numerous wounded 2nd Squad members.
Some unconscious.
Some limping from slashes.
Others with arrows in their limbs.
No major injuries, but about seven seemed hurt.
Schleman frowned and asked the 9th Squad Leader.
"What happened?"
The 9th Squad Leader, Clarice Ban, scowled in response.
"You can see for yourself. Yuri Holland got us."
"Those arrows? Yuri uses a bow too?"
"Arin Helga. She's the archer. Pretty damn good shot. Anyway, Yuri Holland and Arin Helga ambushed us, we clashed a few times, then they bolted."
"Just the two of them?"
"Yeah."
"Hm... Hit-and-run tactics?"
"Seems like. Bobikr... whatever, that big lug doesn't suit ambushes, so probably just those two."
Schleman nodded in agreement.
Then he patted Clarice's shoulder.
"Good work. We'll take the next shift."
"......"
Clarice paused, pondering something at the hand on her shoulder.
"Right. Good luck."
But she quickly shook it off and turned away.
Watching her go, Schleman pulled out his notebook and added a few lines under "Clarice Ban."
-Memory slightly lacking, but situational judgment estimated above average.
Tucking the notebook away again, Schleman smiled.
"Not bad at all."
She was in another squad, so no martial intel,
but all together like this, gathering data on personalities, intellect, habits was easy.
Thus, Schleman rooted for Yuri.
"I need time to gather more intel... don't get caught too soon, Yuri Holland."
He smiled toward the forest depths where Yuri likely was.
* * *
Arin and Yuri returned to their hideout after stirring up 2nd Squad.
"Kept the house safe?"
"I'm hungry!"
"Aww, good job, Poppi!"
After praising Poppi, who'd been relegated to doorman while they were out, Arin turned to Yuri.
She finally voiced the curiosity she'd been holding back.
"Yuri, Yuri!"
"What."
"You told me to say it, but... is that stuff true?"
"What stuff."
"The lines you made me memorize."
Yuri chuckled at the question.
"Ah, that?"
"Yeah."
"You wanna know if it's true?"
"Yeah!"
"Just something I threw out there."
"......?"
Silence fell instantly.
Yuri frowned at Arin's stare.
"...Why are you looking at me like I'm rotten fish?"
"You think I look thrilled right now? For real? You just made it up?"
"Yeah. Total bullshit from start to finish."
"......"
"Ha! Nailed it, right? Told ya, I'm a genius at scripting those!"
"...You can just lie like that? Won't it blow up right away?"
At Arin's scammer-stare, Yuri wagged a finger.
"Tsk tsk, you naive fool. You still don't get it. Whether my script's truth or lie doesn't matter."
"Then what does?"
"What matters is that I planted a tiny spark."
"What're you talking about?"
"Whether they snuff it out or fan it into a blaze—that's on them. And I..."
Pausing with a grin, Yuri continued.
"I'm certain it'll become a massive fire. No doubt!"
* * *
At the same time 3rd Squad rotated in and left.
Numerous squad leaders gathered discreetly in one spot.
The one who summoned them was none other than 9th Squad Leader Clarice Ban.
Everyone except the 3rd Squad's squad leaders was present.
"So, why'd you call us here?"
"Make it quick? I wanna rest."
Facing their questioning looks, Clarice spoke calmly.
"I gathered you to hear everyone's thoughts on something."
She gestured to one side.
A boy appeared.
"Who's that?"
"What's with his eye?"
The boy, with one eye bruised black and blue, shuffled to her side. Clarice nodded at him.
"Tell them the same story you told me earlier."
The boy nodded and stepped forward, clearing his throat.
"Ahem, my name's Gilbert Becker."
Amid the stares after his brief intro, Gilbert pointed to his eye.
"See this?"
Feeling their eyes on his bruise, he opened his mouth solemnly.
"This is the wound I got after a fierce fight with Yuri Holland—lost by a hair."
"......"
"And what I'm about to tell you is the intel I gleaned by pretending to pass out."
"...Intel?"
"That Yuri Holland bastard thought I'd fully blacked out..."
Seeing the question marks over their heads, Gilbert recounted the scene with a serious face.