Chapter 117
Chapter 117
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 117
Chapter Title: Rejecting the Half-Goblin Side's Proposal
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Rejecting the half-goblin side's proposal.
What did that mean?
Simple.
It meant turning down the offers from both the goblins and half-goblins who had shown up at the lord's castle.
Getrol couldn't help but be dumbfounded.
He was still blinking vacantly at the iron-masked man.
Doubting his own ears.
Unfortunately, he hadn't misheard.
"...".
Deus standing behind him was staring in bewilderment too.
A heavy silence hung in the air.
The iron-masked man was the one who broke it.
"I appreciate both offers, but a contract really seems like too much."
Only then did Getrol snap back to reality.
The iron-masked man slowly turned away.
Seeing that made Getrol even more frantic.
"No, no, wait a second."
"Hm?"
"What's with this vibe? Weren't you gonna sign with us?"
"Didn't I just clearly tell you I'm passing?"
"Hey, what the hell? Double—double the goblins'! And you're turning this down?"
Anyone would call it a solid deal.
No, it was more than solid—it was overflowing.
A signing bonus big enough to drop jaws.
Even Roxy, the former top rookie, had never been scouted for that kind of money.
Yet here he was, kicking it away with his own two feet.
Getrol couldn't wrap his head around it.
That's why he'd argued so fiercely, but the iron-masked man's demeanor didn't waver.
"I rejected it because it deserved rejecting."
A flat, emotionless voice.
A piercing, icy gaze hidden within.
At the same time, he tilted his chin up toward the contract.
"The terms don't sit right with me."
It hit like a gut punch.
Getrol's brow twitched.
The pride he'd been suppressing cracked wide open.
He couldn't take it anymore.
His eyes bloodshot, Getrol lunged forward.
"You f***ing prick!"
Grab!
He seized the iron-masked man by the collar and gnashed his teeth.
"What? Terms don't sit right? You think you're hot shit?"
He'd hated it from the start.
Making people wait out of nowhere.
If not for Benkal's orders, he'd have bailed ages ago.
He'd gritted his teeth and endured for the sake of scouting, but this arrogant bullshit?
And those eyes, looking down on him like he was dirt.
Like he was beneath this guy.
"I came all the way here myself—you should be grateful. Hell, you should be on your knees begging me to take you, not standing there all stiff-necked!"
"Wh-what the hell are you...".
Swish!
The moment Deus rushed to intervene.
The iron-masked man thrust out a hand first, stopping him.
Don't butt in.
"You're the one who's got it all wrong."
"Wrong? You're the clueless rookie here. You don't get it—Agas is crawling with punks like you. Can't even know your damn place..."
"The one who doesn't know his place is you."
Getrol's eyes trembled violently.
The corner of the mouth visible beneath the iron mask.
It had curled into a smirk.
A sneer.
Rage boiled over hotter than ever.
But the iron-masked man didn't stop there.
"You didn't seriously think I'd bite on terms like these, did you?"
"What?"
"Wishful thinking at best. And looks like you forgot..."
Then came the knockout blow.
"I never told you to come find me. I just came to see you since you were hanging around the lord's castle."
Exactly.
They were the ones who'd requested the meeting first, through the viscount.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have even known scouts were here.
And that wasn't all.
Lately, recruitment pitches had been piling up.
He'd shot them all down consistently, but this time was different.
He'd carved out time to meet these two crashing at the lord's castle.
The gap in their positions was crystal clear.
That's what the iron-masked man was driving home to Getrol right now.
"Y-y-you...!"
An undeniable truth.
Maybe that's why.
Getrol had no clever comeback—he just flushed red in the face.
"Did I say anything off-base?"
"Kuh!"
"From where I'm standing, the one throwing his weight around without knowing his place is you."
That did it.
Something snapped in Getrol's head.
Benkal's orders?
Screw that.
Right now, the only thing in his sights was the iron mask.
"You think you'll walk away from this? Got a big head from a little success? One wrong move and you're done, you f***. Few words from me, and you're finished in Agas—finished!"
"...".
"Huk, huff... huff..."
Blood filled his mouth.
Getrol had unloaded like a machine gun and now panted, glaring daggers.
But.
"I see."
Something felt off.
The iron-masked man didn't so much as flinch at the one-sided threats.
Instead, he stroked his chin and nodded along.
"What's with that reaction?"
"You nailed it—the alliance's real thinking. That's how you approached the scout from the jump."
Flinch!
He'd forgotten.
That he was here as the alliance's rep scout.
Conveying their intentions to the iron-masked man.
Forgot it in a flash.
But so what?
The offer was dead anyway.
No need to tiptoe around him anymore.
But right then.
"No helping it, then. Guess negotiations move to the goblin side."
Suddenly, words no one saw coming.
"W-wait. Negotiations? It's over. You rejected the offer..."
"Hear me out."
"No, you said it yourself!"
"I said a contract's tough. Haven't touched the rest."
The rest?
What the hell?
But Getrol's confusion cleared up quick.
By the iron-masked man's next words.
"No contract, but commissions are on the table."
Thud!
Getrol.
Felt like a hammer to the skull.
Commission.
Or provisional contract.
Merc work for pay, in other words.
"Deus."
"Y-yes!"
"So, second round of talks. You in?"
Deus whipped his head around.
Side-eyed the petrified Getrol, then nodded.
"Of course."
Inwardly, it stung a bit.
Not landing the iron-masked man fully for the goblins.
But commissions or provisional deals weren't bad at all.
Hell, it was halfway to victory already.
The real battle was beating the half-goblins.
Better than letting those bastards snag him!
Plus, he'd be a powerhouse for them during the war.
Deus geared up for round two, thinking that.
That's when it happened.
"...F***ing bullshit."
Getrol, lost in shock, jerked his head up.
"F*** you!"
Bloodshot eyes.
A long sword gripped in one hand now.
"Playing me like a damn fool?"
Killing intent rolled off him.
He raised the blade high and charged the iron-masked man.
"I'll kill you!"
"Danger—!"
Deus yelled.
The blade was already inches from the iron-masked man's face.
No matter how sharp his reflexes, blocking a blindside lunge like that would be tough.
Or so he thought.
Clang!
The blade halted mid-swing in thin air.
Swish!
A figure darted in.
A woman in a deep-hooded leather suit now stood blocking his path.
"Some bad manners you've got."
Seductive smile.
Getrol and Deus's eyes went wide.
Luke eyed Dania, who'd appeared right in front of him.
Unlike before, her face was covered, but the cold glint in her eyes peeking from the hood was just as chilling.
As expected, she was here.
He'd known she'd been holed up in the lord's castle for a while.
Known she was keeping tabs on him since his return.
Not exactly planned, but...
Worked out fine.
No need for him to lift a finger.
Guards poured into the room, drawn by the commotion.
"What happened?"
"This guy tried to jump the iron mask."
"Who the hell—wait, what?"
The guards' gazes locked on Getrol.
The longsword in his grip.
Their faces hardened instantly.
The royal investigators' testimony.
The weapon in hand.
Undeniable scene of assault.
"This bastard dares attack our territory's hero!"
"L-let me go!"
"Drag him to the cells!"
"Let go, who the hell is that bitch...!"
As they hauled him off by force.
Getrol thrashed and glared at Dania.
The guards holding him barked.
"Watch your mouth—that's no one for scum like you to mouth off to!"
Dania shrugged.
Not bothering to deny it.
"Anyway, he's my responsibility. I'll take him."
Dania led the guards out the door.
"So keep on with what you were doing."
A bewitching eye smile.
A playful wink, then she vanished with flair.
Way too much.
Once the guards cleared out too.
Silence settled over the room again.
Just two left in the parlor.
The goblin scout Deus—and him.
No matter what...
Perfect setup.
Luke wouldn't let it slip.
"Deus, back to that second-round negotiation."
"Yes."
Eyes sharpening.
Luke cut straight to it.
"Any interest in some intel?"
A little later.
Ziiing.
Risiner's communication bracelet buzzed.
Deus, the scout dispatched to Jermie.
It's here.
The iron-masked man.
His scouting results were incoming.
The outcome of competing with the half-goblin coalition army.
Maybe that's why.
Risiner's face tensed as he accepted the call.
"Yes, go ahead."
-...
The report that followed.
Everything that went down at Viscount Chainver's castle.
The iron-masked man rejecting both offers outright.
Getrol trying to attack him and getting dragged to jail instead.
A lot had happened.
Two emotions swirled in Risiner's mind.
Relief.
And regret.
Good that the iron-masked man didn't go half-goblin...
But they hadn't snagged him either.
That stung deep.
Still, gotta call this a win.
He'd moved hastily to counter the coalition's scout.
Risiner shook off the regret and spoke.
"Good work. Head back to base now..."
Then.
A delayed addendum came through the bracelet.
"Yes?"
A second negotiation leaving room for commissions.
And intel pitched by the iron-masked man himself.
Even the famously cool-headed Risiner struggled to contain his excitement.
Incredible news.
But the real shocker was something else.
Click!
An odd hush over the comm.
Moments later, a different voice came through.
-Nice to meet you, Risiner.
"...!"
The iron-masked man.