Chapter 12
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: 3. Escort. (2)
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"It's been a while, Lady."
Allen, shown into the reception room, offered a greeting to Charlotte, who sat elegantly sipping tea in a spot with a view of the garden. His bold manner and speech were utterly unlike the timid fellow from before.
...As if the man himself had been swapped out in a heartbeat.
"...Yes, it has."
Unlike Allen's relaxed smile, Charlotte's response was as dry as a drought. Of course, he hadn't expected a warm welcome from her in the first place.
"Have a seat."
Allen took the chair opposite the one she indicated with a tilt of her chin. She shifted slightly from facing straight ahead, turning her gaze toward the garden instead.
...Which conveniently gave him a clear view of her alluring cleavage.
...Honestly, it wasn't polite, but how could he not look?
Objectively speaking, Charlotte was a stunning beauty. And a beauty's bosom was a temptation no man could ignore. If leers were arrows, her chest would surely be bristling like a porcupine.
As he unabashedly admired those voluptuous curves, he caught her gaze shifting back to him and smoothly turned his eyes to his teacup. Getting in trouble just for looking would be unfair. It wasn't like he'd touched them.
"The tea... it's quite good."
"Is it?"
This was exactly the vibe of a blind date where the woman made no secret of her disinterest.
...Bitch.
The old memory stung, and Allen felt a twinge of hurt.
"So, what brings you here? You didn't come all this way just to sip tea leisurely."
"Building rapport isn't a bad idea. Between business partners."
"We're not that close... And business partners?"
Charlotte gave him a look that said what are you talking about?, and Allen flashed a sly grin.
"I've officially started up a mercenary business this time. So, partners... right?"
Mercenary business...?
At those words, a chill ran down Charlotte's spine. Instinct told her a formidable rival had appeared.
But she played it cool. Hiding her emotions was second nature to her anyway. She thought wearing them on her sleeve was tacky.
"I see... Won't be easy."
"Eh, it's manageable enough."
"Good for you."
Allen paused for a moment, taking a sip of tea to wet his lips.
This was where it got important. He focused all his senses to the max. Every little movement, expression, glance, even her breathing—
Of course, it might not work, but he wanted to seal the deal if possible. It would make the mission much smoother.
"So, I have a proposal for you, Lady..."
"...A proposal?"
"I've taken on the escort job for the Pomwell Merchant Company. How about traveling together?"
There were a few skipped details, but Charlotte got the full picture. She couldn't keep the sharpness out of her voice.
"Why me, specifically?"
"We're headed the same way anyway. Better than going solo, don't you think?"
"...Maybe."
"I'm not suggesting we merge forces. Just tag along front and back. I'll handle my caravan, you handle yours... Bigger group means bandits think twice before attacking."
...Frankly, he had a point. His pitch boiled down to: each handles their own duties, but cooperate if bandits strike.
Charlotte fell silent, thinking it over.
It was a reasonable offer. Beneficial for both, no downside.
...But for some reason, it felt like she was being pulled into his scheme.
Reading her mood, Allen pressed once more.
"We're doing this for money and honor, right? Makes sense to minimize losses for both of us."
...Damn him, he talks a good game...
Charlotte had no comeback. But agreeing outright would make her look weak as a lady—!
"...I'll think about it."
She said it flatly, but he was already sure she'd bitten. If she truly hated the idea, she'd spit it right in his face.
Image-conscious as always—
She could circle around all she wanted, but she was still in his palm. He pretended not to notice. Acting like he knew everything would just be obnoxious.
"Please consider it favorably, then."
"Got it."
Allen rose from his seat.
...And two days later, her letter arrived.
It came with a bunch of petty excuses,
but the bottom line was: 'I'll accompany you.'
Just as expected.
To fill out his ten-man crew, Allen hustled nonstop. But his standards had gotten pickier since last time, so he even rejected a few decent prospects.
At this rate, he'd never make the deadline. Left with no choice, he recruited bald Dolkin and ragtag Olga.
...Still two spots short.
He scraped together guys who barely met the minimum bar and crammed the roster full. If roles didn't matter, it wouldn't have been this tough—but this job called for a proper-looking mercenary band. The enemy this time wasn't monsters, but people.
No advance pay this contract. Instead, they loaned out gear, returnable upon completion.
...And soon enough, departure day loomed.
It drizzled on the big day, but thankfully, the ground didn't turn to mud that could swallow wagon wheels.
Allen doubled as mercenary leader and interim head of the Pomwell caravan. Simplified the chain of command, which made leading a breeze. Now he just had to watch that one woman, Charlotte.
Hauling heavy cargo over long distances meant minimizing wagons. Normally, the leader would have a comfy private ride, but Allen scrapped that. Fewer things to guard was always better. A bit uncomfortable, sure, but riding with the mercs like last time would be fine.
"Young Master, all prepped."
"Got it. Let's roll—!"
At Allen's call, the wagons lurched forward. Twenty-four from Pomwell plus ten mercs: thirty-four souls total.
The nine-wagon train rumbled toward the east gate. Outside waited Charlotte's group, already there—and nearly twice their size.
Allen hopped down alone and strode to her position.
"No delays. Straight out."
"Understood. Let's go."
Charlotte's crew led off, with Allen's tailing close behind.
By then, the pitch-black sky had lightened a touch. But clouds hid the sun. The drizzle came and went.
Allen glanced at the passing scenery, then turned to his crew.
"Alright, everyone. Let's make it count."
"Keh heh heh, don't worry 'bout a thing. Just leave it to me, Boss."
True to form as the morale booster, bald Dolkin flexed his bulging bicep and bellowed confidently. Sitting right beside him, ragtag Olga elbowed his ribs.
"Move your damn arm!"
Newbie Manuel, the pious youth, clasped his hands and prayed to the saints. For everyone's safe return—
Bald Dolkin eyed him and piped up.
"What's with the fervent praying?"
"Praying we all return safely."
The upright lad replied with a beaming smile. Ragtag Olga cackled.
"Kiddo, first time?"
"Yes, my first."
"Get your fill of pussy beforehand?"
Sex popped out of nowhere, and Manuel flailed in flustered panic.
"We must keep body and soul pure..."
"Keh heh heh. Naive little virgin—God's gotta love that."
"I banged hookers like crazy. No heaven for me?"
"Not at all. Heaven's gates are open to all—"
He spoke like a missionary. Someone muttered under their breath.
"Wonder what angel pussy feels like."
"N-No, not with angels...!"
"Want me to show ya sex?"
"No, I'm fine—!"
The mercs roared with laughter at the kid's innocence. Allen finally cut in.
"Hey, ease up on the pure one."
"Boss says knock it off—!"
To escape the teasing, Manuel squeezed his eyes shut and gently clasped his hands again.
Allen turned his gaze back outside.
But whether his prayers reached the heavens or not, the sky stayed dark and brooding.