Preparing to Hunt the Rats

The air inside the office felt colder than usual as they prepared to hunt the rats. Or, to be precise, it was the chill radiating from Veronica's eyes as she sat at the desk, poring over the ledger. The soft rustle and sharp snap of turning pages sliced through the room like a honed blade. Veronica was tearing through the labyrinth of hidden numbers in the secret ledger seized from Gareth at blinding speed.

'Just as I suspected. It wasn't mere ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠embezzlement.' A thin smile curved her lips. The brain cells she'd sharpened in the hellish political struggles of the imperial palace were ringing out victory bells.

Beside her, Rodin wore an expression of solemn reverence as he meticulously cleaned his tweezers. It was the fierce determination of a legendary mercenary king who refused to let a single pest escape the cabbage leaves.

"Hey, princess. How long are you gonna ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stare at that? Your eyes'll pop out," Rodin said, sounding thoroughly annoyed. To him, the complicated figures in the ledger mattered far less than the thickness of the meat dish that would appear at dinner.

"The ledger clearly shows Count Valder's money laundering activities backing Gareth. This is a fatal weakness that could shake the very foundations of the empire."

"Count or whatever. Can't we just toss the bastard into that hole I dug earlier? I put real effort into digging it. It'd be a waste to leave it empty."

Rodin's solution was, as always, straightforward and violently efficient. To a man who prized efficiency above all, a 'living nuisance' was simply the pinnacle of wastefulness.

"Absolutely not. Killing him would only yield enough for a single bag of fertilizer. But if we keep him alive, we can seize his entire merchant guild."

"Merchant guild? If we take that, does it mean more people to help with my cabbage farming?" Rodin's eyes sparkled with faint interest. Additional labor was a farmer's sweetest temptation.

"Not just more helping hands. We'll gain a distribution network to sell our cabbages across the entire empire. Your cabbages, Rodin, will grace the tables of every noble in the realm."

"Distribution network... That sounds like a lot of money. Do whatever you want. I just need to stand by?"

"Yes. All you need to do is stand there looking intimidating. I'll handle the 'contract' myself."

Rodin nodded, set down his tweezers, and picked up the rusty pickaxe leaning in the corner.

"Okay. But the bastard stepped on one of my precious seeds earlier. Can I at least break one of his fingers? I'll make sure it doesn't affect his ability to hold a pen."

"Hold back until he signs the contract. He needs to be able to grip the pen, after all."

At Veronica's cold reply, Rodin clicked his tongue in disappointment. The mountain stronghold's peace was maintained atop this terrifying harmony of ruthless calculation and raw violence.

The fields behind the stronghold. The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, and beneath it, Gareth's soul had already been thoroughly wrung dry. The once-luxurious silk robes that had dominated the western empire's commerce were now little more than rags. Gareth gripped a hoe he'd never touched in his life and dug at the earth with trembling arms.

"Huff, huuuff... Please, just one sip of water..."

"Hey! Guild Master Gareth! That hole isn't even as deep as a cabbage root! Dig deeper! If my cabbages wither and die because of you, I'll make sure you dry up right along with them!" Dagan shouted from where ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he lay sprawled in the shade of a tree, gnawing on meat.

Next to him, Gil fanned himself and cackled in agreement. "Wow, guess city boys really are weaklings. Our sister-in-law already emptied your wallet completely, so what money do you have to buy water anyway?"

"Money... I'll give you money, just please spare me... I have a hidden emergency fund..."

"Look at this guy. Still hasn't learned his lesson. Hey, starve him tonight. No work means no food. You know our stronghold's motto, right? 'No labor, no cabbage!'"

At Dagan's threat, Gareth looked up at the sky with eyes full of despair. 'How did I end up in a den of monsters like this...'

"Den of monsters?! The boss clearly said this is a proper 'agricultural cooperative'! We're peace-loving farmers, you filthy rat!" The cabbage stalk Gil hurled struck Gareth squarely on the head. Gareth wept tears of blood inside his heart. He had to escape this place somehow and report to the Count. He needed to tell him about this insane woman and the monstrous farmer who could shake the earth with a single pickaxe.

When the shadows grew long, Gareth was dragged into the middle of the courtyard. Veronica sat elegantly at a table, sipping from a teacup. Behind her stood Rodin like a massive bear-shaped shadow, his pickaxe resting on one shoulder.

The killing intent radiating from Rodin's body was more than enough to threaten Gareth's bladder.

"Gareth, how are you finding the field work? Your complexion looks wonderfully healthy. It's quite a sight."

Veronica's gentle voice sounded to Gareth like the whisper of the grim reaper.

"Princess... I mean, Chief Administrator! Please have mercy... I'll do anything! Anything you command!"

"You said anything, correct? After calculating the embezzlement from your guild against our stronghold plus compensation for emotional damages... it comes to fifty platinum coins."

Gareth's eyes bulged as if they might pop out. "Th-that's impossible! That's more than the guild's entire assets...!"

BANG!

At that moment, Rodin lightly tapped the ground with the handle of his pickaxe. It was a casual motion, yet the solid stone floor cracked open and dust flew up.

"Hey. If our administrator says fifty, it's fifty. Got a problem with that? Or do you want me to split you open like the floor?"

At Rodin's low voice, Gareth immediately slammed his forehead to the ground.

"N-no problem at all! Fifty is correct! Perfectly accurate! Not a single coin of error!"

"Wise choice. Since you clearly don't have the money to pay immediately, please sign this 'Merchant Guild Transfer and Exclusive Agent Contract.'"

The document was packed with clauses so harsh they would make even a demon weep.

"This... this is a slave contract! You're demanding everything I have!"

At Gareth's outburst, Rodin slowly leaned down until their eyes met. His massive hand clamped down on Gareth's shoulder.

Crack. The sound of bones grinding together echoed across the silent courtyard. Gareth's face twisted in agony.

"Hey. You don't need those fingers, do you? If you're not gonna hold a pen, I'll just snap them for you. No need to sign painfully. We can just stamp your hand instead."

There was no mercy in Rodin's eyes. Only a burning desire to 'finish this bothersome task quickly.'

"Hiiik! I'll hold it! I'll hold the pen! I'll sign! Please, just let go of my shoulder...!"

Gareth screamed as he snatched up the pen. Only then did Rodin release him, scratching his head in annoyance.

"Should've done that from the start. So bothersome, making me repeat myself."

Veronica watched with satisfaction as Gareth signed the document with tears streaming down his face.

"Just so you know, don't even think about running away. Rodin has memorized your scent."

"Yeah. Even if you run to the ends of the empire, I'll plant you in the ground like a cabbage. If I plant you upside down, the blood rushes to your head and you live quite a while."

At Rodin's sincere advice, Gareth finally burst into the sobs he'd been holding back and stamped his seal. It was a historic moment—the guild master of a major imperial merchant company reduced to an exclusive slave for a bandit group.

"...So this is how my life ends..."

"Ends? Why would it end? You're starting a brand new life as the guild master of the 'Cabbage Trading Company.' Right? Now go back and dig some more fields. This is overtime to celebrate the contract."

With a kick from Rodin, Gareth rolled away helplessly back toward the fields.

Though night had deepened, the lights in the office remained on. Veronica organized the documents obtained from Gareth, intoxicated by the taste of victory. The stronghold was no longer a mere band of thieves. It had become the headquarters of a massive enterprise capable of controlling the flow of goods across the southern empire.

"The preparations are complete. We'll use Gareth to tighten the noose around Count Valder's neck."

"Tighten it, roast it, do whatever. So does this mean unlimited fertilizer refills? I'm planning to plant ten thousand cabbages next month."

Rodin asked while sinking deep into the sofa. His only concern was the 'stable supply of fertilizer.'

"Unlimited refills? We could outright buy a fertilizer factory. If you want, I can kidnap—no, invite—the empire's finest fertilizer craftsmen."

"Oh... That sounds pretty tempting. You're seriously an emperor-level talent when it comes to making money. No, you're better than the emperor."

At Rodin's clumsy compliment, Veronica's cheeks flushed pink.

"Hehe, I did promise to be your shield. I don't make empty promises."

"Yeah, yeah. But princess, your eyes were pretty scary when you were threatening Gareth earlier. You don't look at me like that normally, right?"

"Who knows? As long as you don't try to leave my side, Rodin, you'll never have to see those eyes."

Veronica answered with a bright smile. But deep within her pupils swirled a strange madness mixed with possessiveness and ambition.

Rodin felt a chill run down the back of his neck, but soon dismissed it with a 'She wouldn't do that to me' and closed his eyes.

The next dawn. In the outskirts of the stronghold, where thick morning fog blanketed the forest, a group of five or six figures in black cloaks stopped on a hill overlooking the stronghold. On their chests was the emblem of a snake baring fangs dripping with venom—the seal of Count Valder's house.

"That idiot Gareth. How long does it take to deal with some mountain bandits? It's been two days since we lost contact."

The inspector's voice spread coldly through the mist.

"The situation seems far from ordinary. The equipment at the toll station is on par with regular army gear. Their spirit is no joke either."

"Hmph, a bandit is still just a bandit. We'll show them exactly what happens when they touch the Count's funds. Tonight, we'll turn their stronghold into ashes."

The inspector toyed with a red flare in his pocket, a vicious smile on his face.

At that same moment, in the master bedroom of the stronghold's main building.

Rodin's eyes snapped open from deep sleep. Instead of drowsiness, a sharp, predatory gleam shone in his gaze.

"Ah... Some little rat is emitting killing intent since dawn. Completely ruined my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sleep."

Rodin scratched his head irritably and grabbed the pickaxe beside his bed.

"The princess is out there making money. Anyone who gets in the way needs to be buried, right?"