Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: 3 Matches, 2 Wins (2)
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Unlike Yuri's dissatisfied expression, Johann's face—facing her directly—was the brightest it had been in recent memory.
Johann replied in a tone that suggested he had no idea why Yuri was sulking.
Full of cheer and refreshment.
“What are you talking about?”
“Are my eyes playing tricks on me… or why the hell is that damn thing here?”
“Hey now, you brat! Calling our Bungbungi a damn thing! Take that back right now! I clearly said old objects harbor souls! Our sweet Bungbungi is hurt!”
“What the hell! No, we had a deal, right? If I got to Chrome in two days, you wouldn't make me drag that damn thing anymore! The stamina training is over!”
“When did I say that?”
“You old coot!”
“Ho ho, you don't remember?”
“……?”
“When did I ever say the stamina training was over? I said if you got to Chrome in two days, we'd move on to the next stage.”
“……?!”
Yuri's eyes shook as if struck by an earthquake at Johann's words.
*That's right… he did say that.*
And then it hit her.
She had been played by that damn old coot's wordplay.
As Yuri's face soured more and more, Johann's lit up brighter and brighter.
As if the mental torment he'd endured from Yuri during the last voyage was being washed away.
“Puhuhu, you naive pup. Even if you've learned mana, training your stamina and body is a lifelong task!”
Yuri ground her teeth at the voice laced with mockery.
He forcibly calmed his anger and spoke steadily.
“Fine, I'll concede that point a hundred times over. But old man…….”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Then what the hell is that!”
He pointed furiously at the revived Bungbungi.
The place his finger pointed.
There was nothing there that should have been.
At Yuri's rage, Johann picked at his ear.
“What? Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Wrong?! Did you just say 'wrong'?”
At Johann's innocent tone, Yuri finally exploded.
“No, seriously, where the hell did you sell the cart wheels!”
That's right.
The cart Johann had brought.
The revived Bungbungi was hardly worthy of being called a cart anymore.
Because both wheels were gone.
At Yuri's fury, Johann replied with obvious delight.
“Kekeke. You've learned mana and gotten stronger, so keeping the difficulty the same wouldn't be proper training, would it?”
With that, Johann nimbly climbed onto the wheel-less Bungbungi.
He propped his prosthetic leg on the railing and shouted.
“No time to waste, pup! Get moving! You planning to slack off here?!”
Watching Johann yell excitedly, Yuri muttered under her breath.
“Damn geezer…….”
Even as she cursed, the way she gripped the cart's handle suggested her body still remembered the stamina training.
“Alright, let's go!”
And so, on the first day they set foot in the Niger Administrative District.
Yuri's grueling training resumed.
* * *
A fortnight had passed since Yuri and Johann entered Niger.
At the tail end of the Frostwall Mountains, which divided the Niger and Baltan Administrative Districts.
Thud- thud- thud-.
Around the time the sun fully rose.
The relentless sound finally ceased.
And at the source of the sound.
Creak-.
The door of the smithy, which had been belching white steam for two straight days, burst open, revealing an old man over two meters tall.
A broad, flat face and stiff white beard grown wild.
And massive, intimidating muscles.
“Hmm…….”
Ralph Schnell, who had been hammering iron moments before, stared toward the rising sun in the east.
The discomfort on his face was plain in the sunlight.
“Some punk showing up early in the morning…….”
From the east.
A strong killing intent approaching rapidly was disrupting Ralph's work.
Killing intent so thick it broke his focus and drew him outside.
That's why Ralph planned to snap the rude intruder's spine in half.
That is, until the intruder revealed himself.
Scraaape- scraaape-.
A eerie sound accompanied a cloud of yellowish dust approaching.
And within it, flashing blue eyes.
“Shit… I'll kill you… shit… kill you…….”
The endless curses dripped with murderous intent.
A grotesque cart without wheels.
And a beggar-like boy pulling it with all his might.
The giant could only stare blankly at the bizarre pair.
Several minutes passed like that.
Scraaape-.
Finally, the wheel-less cart and the beggar boy—Yuri—reached Ralph.
“G-Good… job…….”
Before he could finish, Yuri collapsed forward and passed out.
“…What the hell is this guy?”
Faced with the absurd situation, Ralph looked at the fainted Yuri with a dumbfounded expression.
It was right then.
Creak- crash-.
The already battered wheel-less cart shattered completely.
Front, back, left, right—like a gift box opening—the wooden planks caved in.
And in the center, a blanket rolled up round.
Fwoosh-.
“Puhet!”
Amid the swirling dust, the blanket twitched, followed by a deep cough.
At the sudden human presence, Ralph's face hardened instantly.
*……?!*
Yoram's proud twelve master craftsmen.
Sixth Sword, Ralph Schnell, felt a chill down his spine at the realization that someone had hidden right under his senses.
*Who the hell?!*
As Ralph raised his guard and gathered his aura, a creaky old voice came from ahead.
“Argh! I told you, brat, to run without kicking up dust.”
With the grumbling, the blanket flipped open, revealing a familiar face.
“Oh dear, our poor Bungbungi… you've suffered. Go to a better place.”
Seeing the man looking more pitifully at the broken cart than the passed-out Yuri, Ralph's tension drained away.
A deflated voice escaped his lips.
“Senior… Johann?”
At the voice calling him, Johann waved cheerily.
“Long time no see.”
* * *
A two-story house attached to the smithy.
Unlike Ralph's burly appearance, the interior was cozy and neat.
Clink-.
House owner Ralph set a teacup in front of Johann and asked.
“So, what brings you here after all these years? Fifteen years, no less?”
A jab about not visiting for fifteen years and suddenly showing up.
At his younger senior's griping, Johann grinned.
“You've got a Shari, right? You bragged about getting it back then.”
“You remember something from over twenty years ago?”
“You wouldn't shut up about it.”
“Ahem, anyway. You're really here for that? What if I had it twenty years ago but not anymore?”
“We'll deal with that when the time comes. And knowing you, you'd hoard something like that. You always liked shiny, pretty things despite your looks.”
“Judging people by appearances isn't a good habit…….”
“Shut it. So, do you have it or not?”
“Why do you need it?”
“It's all because of that rotten punk.”
Johann scowled and nodded toward Yuri, sprawled in the corner like a rag.
Ralph followed his gaze, crossed his arms, and asked.
“Hmm, I was wondering about that earlier… what's with the kid?”
“What else? A damn nuisance.”
“Your disciple?”
“Disciple? I don't take those.”
“Isn't it about time you did? You planning to let the Redner family's legacy end with your generation?”
Johann snorted at Ralph's words.
He downed a shot and continued.
“I'm the last head of the Redners. Whether I squander it or sell it off, what's it to you?”
“It's a shame, that's all! A shame! Is the Redner martial body art just any old technique? Letting it die out would be a loss for all humanity.”
“Not wrong there.”
“Anyway… so, is the kid your disciple or not?”
“I said no. Sure, I teach him this and that, but I don't see him as a disciple. He probably doesn't see me as a master either.”
“Oh ho? So you are teaching him something?”
“Yeah.”
“People usually call that a master-disciple relationship.”
“Hey, I said no! With that punk, we're just… cooperating for mutual goals!”
“If it walks like a duck…”
“…Think whatever you want.”
Johann waved dismissively, done with the bickering.
His gaze drifted to the teacup before him.
His brow furrowed slightly.
A pondering expression.
“Hmm… what is this?”
No matter how he turned the cup, it was unmistakably a teacup fit for a ladies' tea party.
Johann asked incredulously.
“Are teacups the new trendy shot glasses these days?”
“It's a teacup, alright.”
“Have you lost your mind? Are we the type to sip tea all cozy? Bring booze, now!”
“…I've quit drinking for a while.”
“Time sure flies. Hearing crazy talk like 'I've quit drinking' from you.”
“Ahem. They say ten years change the mountains… fifteen years, of course I've changed.”
“Bullshit. Dogs would quit shitting first. You, quit drinking? Quietly bring a bottle, or should I ransack your place and take it all?”
“Urgh…….”
Cowed by Johann's threat, Ralph hesitantly fetched a bottle from the cupboard.
Catching a glimpse of the many bottles through the cracked door, Johann smirked knowingly.
“You hoarding all that and too stingy to share one, so you serve tea? You call yourself my junior?!”
“You left booze with me…….”
“What was that?”
At Johann's bulging eyes, Ralph shrugged and hurriedly brought the drinks.
And so, the teacup became a shot glass.
Pour-.
In the quiet, the sweet booze aroma spread.
Several shots passed wordlessly.
Given their levels, it wouldn't intoxicate them.
But the booze loosened tongues for topics hard to broach sober.
Topics you needed booze for, drunk or not.
“So… how'd that happen.”
Ralph broached it, eyes on Johann's worn wooden prosthetic.
Johann smirked at the blatant stare.
“Are you asking 'cause you don't know, or do you know but want to hear it from me?”
“…The latter.”
“You bastard. Want to hear the cripple story from the cripple himself? You've gotten nastier since I last saw you.”
“If you're gonna say that, why not keep in touch? Should I hear about it from others?”
“Then you know already. Why pry?”
“…….”
Ralph clamped his mouth shut.
Reading the determination in his eyes, Johann.
He refilled swiftly and downed it.
“Nothing much.”
He wiped a drop from his lip, emptiness in his eyes.
“You know, that fight fifteen years ago…….”
Downed the second shot in a row, washing away the emptiness.
The third followed quickly.
“…I lost it instead of my life. To that damn monster.”
In its place, sharp resolve took root.