Chapter 60
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: A Fair and Square Weasel
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Berman scanned the faces gathered before him.
Kel, Pul, Brick, and Dylan. The members of Team 4 were holding a secret meeting.
The organizer was Dylan… no, the Weasel, but everyone had been feeling the need for one.
The topic was…
“Brother Aron is not a man destined to remain a mere Jojang.”
Everyone’s eyes fixed on the Weasel as he muttered in a serious voice.
*He’s not wrong…*
Everyone nodded. Berman felt a bit uneasy but didn’t object.
“In my opinion, our brother is surely a descendant of barbarians! And not just any barbarian, but the most savage and largest of them all! A barbarian captain! No, a barbarian chieftain!”
The others let out small groans at the Weasel’s cry.
*A barbarian… As ignorant and uncivilized as the Jojang is…*
Berman recalled the rumors he’d heard about barbarians.
They were massive. Monstrously strong. They didn’t hesitate to take their opponents’ heads. They knew no fear.
*…Isn’t that just the Jojang?*
Gulp. The sound of someone swallowing echoed through the room.
“No! The Jojang is definitely an ex-gladiator! A legendary one who came out of the Colosseum in the capital!”
Brick slammed his round fist on the table in protest.
A gladiator from the Colosseum!
The table erupted in commotion once more.
The capital’s Colosseum, where the strongest of all fighters gathered.
Legend had it that once you entered, you couldn’t leave until you achieved one hundred victories!
Berman naturally pictured Jojang the gladiator.
Countless scars etched across a bare torso.
Licking the blood off his face with his tongue…
It fit. No, Aron was definitely a gladiator!
That ignorance and savagery had to be from the Colosseum.
There was no other explanation.
“Ooooh.”
A loud stir went through the group, as if everyone had imagined something similar to Berman.
The mood quickly shifted in favor of Aron the gladiator.
“Ahem… You all know nothing.”
Kel, who had been quiet until then, stood up with an air of importance.
“The Jojang… he must be a legendary playboy. He must have messed with the wrong woman and fled here.”
Kel’s follow-up statement was met with skepticism.
Sensing their reaction, Kel clicked his tongue and calmly continued.
“You lot might not know this, but there are quite a few women who like men like the Jojang. That brutish body, like an orc with a different face, his aggressive actions, his uninhibited savagery.”
Kel paused, enjoying the captivated gazes around him. Then he spoke again.
“That strong, masculine scent that stimulates such primal instincts is a man’s deadliest weapon. The scar on the Jojang’s face! Do you really think he got that in a simple fight? No! It’s clearly a punishment! For touching a noblewoman or another man’s wife…”
Gulp.
Someone swallowed at Kel’s surprisingly plausible argument. Berman looked up at the preening Kel.
“A punishment bestowed upon a legendary playboy. And if you look very closely… very meticulously at the Jojang’s face, the contours are good. Uglier than me, of course. The scar on his face is a punishment meant to stop him.”
Ooooh.
Brick clapped his hands in quiet admiration.
Everyone was won over by Kel’s characteristic shamelessness and serious tone.
“And even now, the Jojang is seducing all the beauties of Casedic with that face. First, there’s Hana, who’s been famous since she was young, then the monster Nova from the inner wall… and even Rosa’s friend, Luna!”
No one could refute Kel’s next cry. He was bringing up real examples.
“Jojang Aron… he must be a legendary playboy. And his face was torn up as punishment.”
The consensus shifted in an instant to Aron the playboy.
Even Brick, who had proposed the Aron the gladiator theory, was nodding.
“Anyway! Whether he’s a legendary playboy, an undefeated gladiator, or a chieftain of barbarians! Brother Aron is clearly a man who cannot be contained in the position of a mere Jojang!”
All eyes turned back to the Weasel.
“So what are you getting at?”
Berman scratched his neck and asked.
“I, Dylan! My life was filled with wretchedness! But since meeting Brother Aron, my life has been set straight! But Brother Aron is a man too great for the position of Jojang!”
*Didn’t you ask me yesterday just how hard Jojang Aron’s head was?*
Berman scratched the back of his own head and nodded.
“I intend to devote my humble self to assisting Brother Aron! But there’s a limit to what a mere team member can do! I, Dylan! Shall enter the selection for the Team 5 Jojang tomorrow!”
The Weasel’s words were met with groans.
Everyone knew of the Weasel’s fiery determination, but they also knew of his pitiful skills that didn’t match it.
Dylan had been sweating buckets lately, seemingly working hard on something by himself, but he was clearly not Jojang material. Not just Jojang Aron material, but not even on the level of an ordinary Jojang.
The Outer Wall Guard was a collection of men who could throw their weight around, and he was barely hanging on at the edge of that.
“But Dylan! You’re a fucking weakling!”
Brick asked bluntly.
“Ahem… I am trying my best.”
“Trying or not, you’re still a weakling.”
“I took down a big guy yesterday! Twenty silver!”
The Weasel suddenly pulled out twenty silver from his pocket, shaking it proudly.
“Took him down? You probably just clubbed him from behind again!”
The Weasel’s eyes went wide at Kel’s shout.
He quickly cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure, but everyone had already noticed.
He’d clocked another one from behind.
“…Kel’s right. Dylan, you’re not Jojang material.”
“Right, if Berman were going, that would be a different story.”
Brick’s mumble drew everyone’s attention to Berman.
If it weren’t for Aron, Berman would have become a Jojang long ago. However, Berman shook his head.
“I’m staying under Jojang Aron. I’m not interested.”
“Wait! Everyone, focus on me! There’s a chance! It’s not like there are many Jojang-level guys left anyway! At best, it’s just ‘Iron Arm’ Kedrak and ‘The Idiot’ Ptunan, right?”
The Weasel kept talking, but everyone was unimpressed, knowing his actual skill level.
Just then, Berman sensed that a lot of time had passed and got up from his seat.
“Where are you going?”
Kel, sitting next to him, narrowed his eyes and asked.
“I have an appointment.”
Berman walked past him lightly.
“Don’t tell me you’re meeting that woman you said you happened to talk to the other day?”
Berman stiffened slightly at the quick-witted Kel’s question but forced himself to shake his head.
“No, the Jojang gave me a separate task.”
“Ah, I see. Have fun busting your ass.”
It was the Jojang’s favorite phrase, but now it was on the lips of everyone in the Outer Wall Guard as Kel muttered it.
“So! I’ll become the Jojang of Team 5, take over the Outer Wall Guard, and then…”
“First, if we lure Jojang Aron toward Baron Pulpuchu, the succession will naturally…”
“Forget all that! Rosa’s free tonight, any takers?! Since we’re teammates, I’ll give you a discount…”
Ignoring the noisy conversation behind him, he headed up.
“Oh, leaving already? I prepared some food.”
As he opened the basement door, Hana’s eyes widened as she asked.
*Hana and the Jojang… A legendary playboy…*
Berman shook his head at the sudden thought, gave Hana a brief farewell, and stepped outside.
Berman walked through the streets at a brisk pace.
Ignoring the loud shouts of a drunkard and the sound of something breaking nearby, he entered an alley in District 4.
*Why is it always in a place like this…*
Berman wondered briefly, but he couldn’t hide his excited steps.
Soon, he arrived at a deserted spot.
“You’re a little late today. Making a lady wait…”
A beautiful woman greeted Berman with a radiant smile.
At that, Berman flusteredly wiped the sweat from his brow.
“I’m sorry. Work ran long.”
“Oh, I was just teasing. I just got here myself.”
Her smiling eyes, curved like crescent moons, made Berman’s face grow hot. His heart was pounding so unusually fast it was starting to worry him.
“Then I shall guide you to a restaurant I know well.”
Razvet.
Berman rolled the candy-sweet name around in his mouth and led the way.
Razvet slyly linked her arm with the flustered man’s, pressing her chest against him.
The man’s face turned red enough to explode.
He was too easy. Far too easy.
“Could you continue that story from last time? About what happened after you joined the Guard, with Jojang Aron…”
‘Blinded by Ambition’ Razvet looked up at Berman, a fabricated smile on her lips.
***
*Hmm…*
I let out a low hum as I looked at the young lady staring up at me.
*Why is she here?*
She wore a black hood, but the part around her face had fallen back, fully revealing her brilliant features.
The men around us were gritting their teeth, forcing themselves to pretend they didn’t see her. Unaware, she raised the corners of her mouth in a confident smile and looked up at me.
“…Lady Vivian?”
“Aah! How did you know?!”
The young lady jumped in surprise.
Watching her overreact, I guessed why she was here.
Seeing the sauce smeared on her lips, she seemed like a thoughtless noble girl who had come out to eat the commoners’ cheap food.
“Oh! When did this fall back! Oh no! Oh no!”
Watching the foolish girl mutter to herself and pull the black hood back over her head, all my questions felt pointless.
So, I started to bend my knees to kneel, but…
Tap.
“Don’t! I’m in disguise right now! They’ll find out if you do that!”
The young lady whispered, grabbing my shoulder.
I was more surprised by the hand on my shoulder than by her polite speech, which she used even with commoners.
*When? I didn’t see it.*
I hadn’t let my guard down. My occupational hazard meant I couldn’t even relax when a refrigerator was approaching me.
The young lady’s hand was simply very fast. Like a knight’s.
If so, this close a distance was dangerous. I habitually touched the hilt of my sword and faced her.
Her eyes, which seemed to hold the purity of melted jewels, screamed that all my suspicions were pointless, but I didn’t relax my guard.
*I’ll have to draw with my left hand.*
I calculated, assuming she was knight-level.
Hhup.
Just then, the young lady took a small breath and whispered in a tiny voice.
“Let’s go to a quiet and secret place to talk!”
Watching the young lady utter a line straight out of a novel, I collected my thoughts.
Being seen in public for too long was not good for either of us.
“Yes, I will guide you.”
I nodded and started moving. The hand on my shoulder finally let go.
“Your movements are very quick.”
“Ah! I’ve been cutting back on meat lately! So my body feels much lighter.”
The young lady said, swinging her arms as if she were excited about something. But every time she swung her arms, a vicious sound of air splitting followed.
*Is it because she is one beloved by mana?*
There was no other way to explain the young lady’s sudden transformation into a monster. With those white, thin arms that looked like they’d never done a day of exercise, let alone cooked her own meal…
…Her heart must be sweet, too.
—Devour that heart.
*Fuck off.*
—If you just eat that, you will…
I casually ignored my tenant’s words.
Just as I knew the extreme hunger and impulses the tenant felt, the tenant also knew I would never do such a thing, so it quickly fell silent.
“…But the look in that eldest son of the Pener family’s eyes was so strange! He was staring at my chest from the moment we met! I’d rather have the idiots who drooled while looking at my face!”
Meanwhile, the young lady was chattering away, venting her frustrations.
*He was probably looking past the flesh at what’s behind it.*
It occurred to me that the eldest son of the Pener family might also be after the young lady’s heart.
*The events that have happened so far… all to get this woman’s heart.*
I bit my lip, glancing sideways at the young lady’s chest.
Quite a few had been sacrificed in the process of protecting her. The fastest way to protect Casedic Castle from future dangers would be to get rid of her, but…
She was not at fault.
“…Is that so.”
“Yes! Isn’t that completely weird?! Staring at my chest right away… ahem. Ahem!”
Suddenly, the young lady coughed and subtly moved away from me. Her reaction gave me a faint idea of why she had sought me out.
I opened my mouth to correct the misunderstanding.
“Ah, the reason I looked at your breasts, Lady Vivian, wasn’t out of any personal desire, it was unavoidable…”
“?!”
The young lady shot back like a startled cat soaked in water, quickly moving away from me. Her speed was extraordinary.
Just then, we arrived at our destination.
“How could you say such a thing…!”
“My lady?”
“…?”
Jace, the bastard-squared guarding the inner wall gate, looked down at the young lady who had arrived before him of her own accord.
The young lady, her eyes wide, looked back and forth between me and Jace, then jumped back a beat too late.
“You tricked me!”
She was so clueless that I had walked openly toward the inner wall, but she had been so absorbed in her story that she only noticed upon arrival.
The problem would have been her escaping with that speed, but surprisingly, she meekly followed Jace into the inner wall.
“Don’t think this is the end!!”
The young lady shouted something a third-rate villain would say upon exiting, and then she was gone.
*To think his only child is such a blockhead… Baron Pulpuchu must have a lot on his mind.*
A blockhead noble lady…
I muttered the surprisingly catchy phrase.
***
“We should proceed with the wedding as soon as possible…”
Baron Pulpuchu looked at Manager Gerel, who was speaking demandingly with his head held high, and responded with a noncommittal, “Hmm…”
Manager Gerel had been managing Casedic Castle since Baron Pulpuchu’s father’s time. He used to be sharp, but at some point, he started sleeping in late and spouting nonsense.
Because of this, Pulpuchu had started practicing ‘the opposite of what Gerel says’ and ‘as Nova says.’ And it was quite effective.
In fact, since then, the miscellaneous problems in Casedic Castle had decreased, and the castle ran smoothly without him having to think too hard.
So, hearing Gerel say such a thing made him feel uneasy. They were engaged, so of course they should get married, but…
*There’s something about the look in that guy’s eyes, Vivian’s partner… He was bright and seemed like a genius when he was young… but after coming back from the capital, the kid’s gotten a bit strange.*
Pulpuchu stroked his chin and shifted his gaze.
There stood Nova, arms full of papers, unlike Gerel who had come empty-handed. Vivian’s marriage was outside Nova’s domain, but she would have certainly prepared for it.
She had been subtly offering her opinions for a while and was particularly protective of Vivian.
*The opposite of Gerel, as Nova says.*
Recalling his motto, Pulpuchu gestured with his hand.
“By any chance, what are Scribe Nova’s thoughts on this matter?”
“Hmph. To ask a mere scribe…”
As soon as Pulpuchu finished speaking, Manager Gerel let out a small sigh.
*His brain must have melted from old age.*
Gerel had always been arrogant, but lately, he had been particularly insubordinate.
*Should I hold another execution? The residents seemed to enjoy it.*
Pulpuchu clicked his tongue, recalling the cheering residents.
“Gerel! How dare you be so rude to the Lord.”
Instead, Nova shouted sharply.
At that, Pulpuchu nodded, thinking, *Holding them too often probably isn’t good either.*
“Ahem… My apologies.”
Gerel apologized and stepped back.
Pulpuchu extended his hand to receive the papers Nova offered.
The papers were filled with all sorts of detailed information.
Hmm…
Pulpuchu stroked his beard and read through them seriously.
The content, as always, was a list of facts, but it was written to guide the reader toward a certain conclusion. A truly clever method.
Baron Pulpuchu nodded as he watched the face of Gerel, who had pushed for the marriage with the Pener family, crumple.
*The opposite of Gerel, as Nova says.*
It wasn’t a matter to be decided immediately, but delaying it a bit to weigh the options wouldn’t be bad. Vivian’s birthday was coming up soon, too.
*Besides, Nova or Gerel will do the work anyway.*
He had nothing to lose.
Coming to a clear conclusion, Pulpuchu nodded.
Gerel watched Pulpuchu and Nova conversing, his old, wrinkled chin trembling as he muttered, “That lowly wench…”
***
*Why is this one sleeping here again?*
The guy who had gifted me the bracelet on my way here was passed out on the ground.
If it had been anyone else, I would have just passed by, but since he had shown me such sincerity, I slapped his cheek a few times.
After about three slaps, he shot up.
He saw me, his eyes widened, and he suddenly hunched over.
He looked exactly like a hoodlum trying to hide something from a thug.
“No matter how good the security in Casedic is, you’ll get in big trouble sleeping in a place like this.”
Without a word of thanks, the guy hurried off somewhere.
I clicked my tongue and headed for the inn.
After a quick laundry spell, I sat at a table, and the refrigerator, grinning from ear to ear, sat across from me.
That look was deeply unsettling.
Seeing she was about to do something again, I hurriedly tried to stop her, but the confidence filling her small face made it impossible.
The refrigerator pointed a finger at me.
My breastplate was instantly washed clean with water. I was startled by the cold, but I tried to act unfazed. The refrigerator didn't stop there.
Soon, the water began to freeze. In an instant, my breastplate was imbued with a frost attribute, and a biting chill pierced through my skin.
Before long, an ice sculpture of me with one arm raised high appeared on my chest.
*Why, though?*
It was an incomprehensible idea, but the refrigerator’s expression was like that of a puppy who had brought back a chew toy, so I couldn’t question it.
I just patted her head and offered mechanical praise.
“Wow. Amazing. That’s Kanna for you. A true genius.”
The biting cold made my voice stiff and my praise wooden, but the refrigerator seemed satisfied, raising her chin high and nodding her head up and down.
Seeing the washing machine’s proud face and an emotional Hana behind the refrigerator, I grew concerned about the refrigerator’s upbringing.
What followed was the refrigerator doing a bizarre dance, the other two clapping and cheering beside her, and the trio of pushovers diligently cleaning the floor.
I sat back down.
My body was cold, but my beer was lukewarm, which made me sigh.
I discreetly broke off the right arm of the ice sculpture of me on my breastplate and dropped it into my beer. One wasn't enough, so I broke off the left arm and dropped that in too.
The beer became as cool as I had become uncomfortable.
By then, the refrigerator was standing on the shoulders of the trio of pushovers, arms crossed, striking a haughty pose.
“Brother.”
Just then, the Weasel sat across from me with a serious expression.
The uncharacteristically serious Weasel made me look him over.
*His forearms have gotten bigger. His torso is thicker, too.*
It seemed he had been putting in some effort behind the scenes.
“Yeah.”
“I’m thinking of entering the selection for the Team 5 Jojang tomorrow.”
Hmm…
Having heard Choco’s plan to detach his opponent’s head, I couldn’t help but hum in thought.
No matter how much the Weasel had trained, he would surely become a five-cent piece of Lego in front of Choco. The cheap kind where the head pops off if you twist it just a little…
“I know it must seem laughable in your eyes, Brother! But! I, Dylan! To be of even the slightest help on the path you walk…”
*The path I walk? Where am I going?*
His unsettling choice of words made me scratch my head.
The Weasel continued to express his confidence in this suicide mission. I considered telling him, but he seemed so serious that I held my tongue.
*He won’t actually kill him, right?*
I felt I should probably tell Choco again not to rip his opponent’s head off.
“So I’m planning to participate in the Team 5 Jojang selection!”
He shouted, his eyes blazing.
*This guy looks jaundiced.*
I scratched my head at the expectant look in his eyes.
I didn’t really have anything to say.
The idea that a few words could drastically improve someone’s skill, whether with a sword or their fists, was something only a con artist would claim.
“Yeah, well. Good luck. If you think you can’t win, just give up.”
Knowing this guy, he’d surely give up the moment he faced Choco.
“…Yes! Brother!!”
The Weasel nodded, a strange look in his eyes.
“Ah, Brother, could I have some…”
As I was drinking my beer, the Weasel reached out and snapped the head off my chest-plate ice sculpture.
As if that wasn’t enough, he took the torso as well, dropped it into his own mug, and swirled it around.
I briefly considered clocking him one, but figured he’d get hit enough tomorrow, so I held back.
“Ack! Why… why did you do that?”
“Leave the lower half. You bastard.”
However, my resolve didn’t last long.
***
The plaza was teeming with people.
The Daejang had declared that the position of ‘Outer Wall Guard Team 5 Jojang’ was a hassle and would be decided by a selection tournament, so a crowd as large as one for an execution had gathered.
*No, this is more fun.*
I took a sip of my beer and surveyed the area.
A makeshift ring had been created with some cloth.
Around it, nervous-looking guys were warming up.
*Twenty in total? Quite a few signed up.*
Among them were quite a few who weren’t even part of the Guard.
Some of the guys from the gang that had fought with Ska were standing awkwardly in ill-fitting armor. They spotted me and bowed deeply. I looked away to avoid any suspicion of collusion.
The Weasel was in the center of a group of colorfully dressed guys. He was extremely excited, letting out squeaking noises as he listened to advice.
As I watched him, I reviewed the information about ‘The Society’ that I had read last night.
*One Master and six executives. The beggar skeleton was an executive, so that makes five now?*
The Master’s whereabouts were unknown, and the remaining executives were scattered in different locations.
It was an organization of black mages and demons, with a fair number of strange ones like the skeleton mixed in. It seemed to be a fairly well-known organization, as the information was quite detailed.
An organization of this scale should have been wiped out by the Empire, but the fact that it still existed suggested some kind of deal was in place.
*Tsk, what a pain.*
If I could just go and crush them like I did in Karzan, it would be simple, but…
“Hey, Star-Killer.”
Choco approached. As I had ordered, he was wearing a tunic over his gear.
“No pulling off heads. No blood, either. Keep it moderate. Moderate.”
At my words, he let out a loud “Uhahaha!” and nodded.
He assured me not to worry, boasting that he’d killed a few guys in the Empire, so he knew what he was doing. I scratched my head at his words.
His definition of ‘knowing what he was doing’ was ambiguous.
Next, the Daejang appeared, looking more excited than usual.
I turned my head and saw the Chief Constable and someone from the inner wall. It seemed he had received a good evaluation from his superiors.
The Daejang explained the rules, which he had clearly improvised.
1-on-1, the winner moves on to fight the next winner.
*Simple. And time-consuming.*
Sensing this would drag on, I let out a long yawn.
The tournament began, and Baron Pulpuchu also showed up to watch. The young lady was behind him, looking around as if searching for someone.
Baron Pulpuchu seemed anxious and had his chair checked several times. He finally relaxed and sat down after having Knight Adela sit in it first.
*Watching scrubs fight is actually pretty fun.*
The plaza heated up in an instant.
Two guys from the Outer Wall Guard were trading blows, and the slightly bigger one won.
“Jojang, how do you think it’ll go?”
Berman asked, handing me some dried jerky.
“Choco will win.”
“…Pardon?”
I didn’t bother to elaborate, and Berman didn’t ask further. But his expression was strangely distracting.
“You look happy, though?”
“Ah, that is… hmm.”
At my question, Berman suddenly put on a serious air and cleared his throat.
“What is it?”
“I believe I have… met my destiny.”
Seeing Berman’s uncharacteristically flushed face, I felt a surge of irritation.
“You believe?”
“She is a rather mysterious woman…”
Without being asked, Berman started rambling about the woman he was meeting.
“A con artist?”
“She is not that kind of woman!”
He jumped up and shook his head.
“Think carefully. If she asks for money, don’t give it to her.”
“It’s really not like that.”
I nodded at Berman’s serious face.
He wasn’t a child; he could take care of himself.
Just then, Kel stuck his head in from the side.
“What? A woman for Berman?! Damn it, I was going to make a move on Rosa! To think some bitch got to him first! No honor among whores!”
“…It’s not like that. And what? Make a move?!”
The other guys started questioning Berman, and he defended himself, turning the scene into a courtroom drama.
“Did you… pay her after you did it?”
“Brick! What are you talking about! We’re not like that.”
“That makes it even more suspicious…”
Berman went on a long rant about why she was his destiny. The others kept interjecting, but Berman didn’t give up.
As I was listening to Berman’s theory of destiny…
Waaaaaaaaah!!
A huge roar went up.
*Oh, right. The selection was still going on.*
I turned my head to see the Weasel, standing unsteadily and raising his fist in front of a guy who had collapsed in a bloody heap.
*How did he win?*
The Weasel’s opponent was a scrub, but a scrub with some muscle among scrubs, so I was puzzled.
Just then, the Weasel looked at me.
I casually gave him a thumbs-up.
The Weasel’s reaction to it was intense.
*…Why is that bastard crying?*
The fight must have been tough, because he started bawling. Next to him, a furious Daejang was pointing at the Weasel and yelling something.
“Huh? That was Dylan. Ah, I missed it because of Berman!”
“But why is the Daejang so angry? Did Dylan do something wrong?”
*What the hell did this bastard do?*
It was the first time I’d ever seen the Daejang that angry, so I scratched my head.
***
The Weasel… no, Dylan, glared at his opponent.
His opponent was the infamous ‘Iron Arm’ Kedrak.
A fearsome powerhouse who could split a log with a single axe swing.
To face such a formidable opponent in the first match was bad luck.
*Should I give up?*
The thought crossed his mind, but Dylan gritted his teeth.
After all the sweat he had shed, how could he give up just by looking at his opponent!
*He’s nothing compared to that son of a bitch. He’s a scrub. A single punch from the son of a bitch would be enough.*
Dylan pictured Aron and mentally shrank his opponent.
The opponent’s eye level was still high, but thinking of Aron made him look like a slender young lady. If he squinted, he could almost see some nice curves.
*I can do this.*
Dylan took the first step.
Thwack!
He threw a punch with all his might, but it was blocked by Iron Arm Kedrak’s steel-like arm.
“Aargh!”
A scream escaped his lips.
Iron Arm Kedrak threw a mighty punch.
Dylan barely managed to turn his head to dodge, but his right ear was ringing.
A chaotic brawl ensued.
Dylan was fast, but Kedrak was tough.
*Should I give up?*
Dylan swallowed hard, feeling the pain all over his body and his vision blurring.
Just then, he heard a loud voice from somewhere and turned his head.
It was blurry, but he could see a gathering of colorful figures.
They were shouting loudly.
He couldn’t hear them clearly over the surrounding noise, but Dylan could feel it.
Their heartfelt cheers.
The one place where he, who had lived a wretched life, could belong without reservation. The members of Team 4 were cheering for him.
*I can’t show them a pathetic sight!*
Dylan bit down hard and focused his mind.
Their passionate cheers weighed heavily on his back.
And that weight added power to Dylan’s previously light fists.
Cra-ack.
Dylan took a punch to the face, his consciousness flickering for a moment, but he tenaciously swung his leg.
It was Dylan’s hidden trump card.
He felt something soft and squishy burst at the tip of his foot.
At that, Dylan knew his technique had landed perfectly.
The forbidden technique that no man with balls could escape!
“Aaaaaaaargh!!”
The man who had stood like a mountain, refusing to fall, staggered from the decisive blow filled with Dylan’s sincerity and effort.
Dylan moved forward as if he were falling and clung to the man.
“G-get off… you crazy bastard…”
His opponent, his voice now higher than before, tried to push him off in terror, but it was too late.
Dylan bit down hard on the man’s exposed weakness! His ear.
“A-aaargh!! I surrender! I surrendeeeer!!”
Hearing the man’s delicate scream, Dylan’s lips curled into a smile.
This was not a victory gained by hitting someone from behind, but a fair and square one.
A true victory earned with his own sweat and blood.
It was truly sweet and bittersweet.
Dylan moved his weak neck and turned his gaze toward his people.
He could faintly see a red giant, twice the size of anyone else.
The strong and dependable son of a bitch.
The son of a bitch gave him a thumbs-up.
“…Dylan. Disqualified by foul!!”
Someone next to him was shouting something, but Dylan didn’t care.
Because Brother Son of a Bitch was giving him a thumbs-up.
The thought that he had earned a little bit of recognition melted into a hot emotion that flowed from his eyes.
It was fine.
These were not tears, but molten iron, the hardened core of his struggle melting away.
“Drag that crazy bastard out of here! Drag him out!!”
So everything was fine.
Dylan, who had blatantly cheated in front of the Baron, the Chief Constable, the young lady, the knight, and the Daejang, was dragged away with a broad grin on his face.