The Rat Caught in the Trap
A bluish predawn fog pressed heavily down on the cabbage field. In a shadowy corner of the mountain stronghold’s backyard, the cold dew clinging to every leaf had soaked through Gareth’s dirt-stained pant legs. Yet instead of discomfort, a vile smile curled at the corners of his mouth.
With a soft hiss, he took advantage of the lax surveillance to slip a palm-sized magic transmitter from his coat. The device, bought for dozens of platinum coins on the Empire’s black market, was thoroughly encrypted. His trembling finger pressed the red gem.
Those stupid bandit fools. Princess or not, she’s nothing but a hothouse flower in the end.
Seconds after the signal went out, three faint owl calls drifted from beyond the forest. Manic glee flashed through Gareth’s eyes. It was the response that the Black Fang—Count Valder’s boasted secret guard—had reached the area.
“Heh heh. It’s almost over. I’ll repay every miserable hour I spent in that field with blood.”
Gareth dusted the soil from his hands and pictured it: the office crammed with gold bars, Veronica’s wretched face groveling at his feet, begging for her life.
“As for that monstrous boss of theirs, I’ll just slit his throat while he sleeps. Sword Master or not, a cut throat kills you all the same.”
Certain of victory, he melted into the mist. The single cabbage head he had trampled and snapped wilted limply behind him, but Gareth never realized how much he had just shortened his own lifespan.
Morning sunlight filled the office with peaceful warmth, but the man who kicked the door open carried an entirely different atmosphere. Gareth straightened his once-hunched back and strode forward, looking down at Veronica with open arrogance.
“Chief Administrator—or should I say, Princess Veronica. The charade ends here.”
He slapped a document onto the table, its golden seal from the Empire’s Merchant Union gleaming brightly.
“I am a first-class executive officially registered with the Empire’s Merchant Union. Holding me here illegally and forcing me into hard labor is a blatant violation of imperial law. In the Union’s name, I will prosecute every last one of you!”
Rodin sat on the corner sofa, whittling a broken pickaxe handle with a dagger. He didn’t even glance up at the outburst, only letting out a huge yawn.
“Hey. Your voice is way too loud this early. You’re gonna burst my eardrums. And you didn’t even shake the dirt off properly… You’re messing up the floor.”
“Hmph, you ignorant bandit! Return my carriage and funds at once and kneel in apology! Refuse, and Count Valder’s private troops will erase this place from the map!”
Gareth shouted with absolute confidence. He could almost feel the assassins from the forest at his back. In this moment he truly believed he was the sole master of the stronghold.
Veronica didn’t bother looking at the document. She simply pushed it aside with a fingertip, then elegantly lifted her teacup and inhaled its fragrance.
“Imperial law… Isn’t that rather too noble a phrase coming from a man who kept double ledgers, evaded territory taxes, and even dared to touch the imperial family’s own funds?”
“Th-that was merely a minor error!”
“For a minor error, the evidence is rather overwhelming.”
Veronica drew from her desk drawer a far thicker, more ornate bundle of documents bearing the imperial family’s personal seal. Gareth’s eyes began to tremble violently.
“Mister Gareth, that signal you received at dawn… we were the ones who sent it. Your contact was already recruited by our Dagan yesterday afternoon.”
“Ah! But Count Valder’s men will still come! Even if they aren’t coming to rescue you!”
“What?! That’s impossible…!”
“Did you honestly believe we wouldn’t see through such a cheap little scheme?”
“Well… thanks to you, we now possess the locations of every secret vault you hid across the southern Empire, along with the original ledgers of the bribes you sent Count Valder. Here, see for yourself. Your signature is quite clear, isn’t it?”
The undersigned, Gareth, former head of the Gareth Merchant Guild, hereby relinquishes all rights, properties, secret vaults, and liquid assets without exception.
All said assets shall be permanently transferred to and absorbed by the Black Mane Stronghold.
In exchange, the Black Mane Stronghold agrees to extend its protection to the signatory against imperial authorities and Count Valder’s retribution.
This contract is offered as the sole price of the signatory’s continued survival.
The document Veronica held out was titled “Complete Asset Forfeiture of Gareth Trading Company and Transfer to Stronghold Agreement.” Gareth’s face drained of all color.
“Th-this is invalid! It was signed under duress! I will never sign it!”
“Duress? No. This is the price of your life. Do you truly believe Count Valder will spare you after you embezzled his money and allowed your secret ledgers to be taken? Signing this and accepting the stronghold’s protection is the only way you will live to see tomorrow’s sunrise.”
At Veronica’s ice-cold smile, Gareth felt his breath freeze in his throat. The one caught in the trap had never been the stronghold—it was himself.
Crash! The large office window shattered as black-clad assassins poured inside. They were Count Valder’s elite assassination squad, the Black Fang.
Gareth screamed in desperate hope. “Kill them! Kill that bitch and all the rest right now!”
The assassins’ chilling sword energy flooded the room. But Rodin moved faster—far faster. In fact, it barely looked like he had moved at all.
Tap. Tap-tap. Rodin stood, still holding the tree branch he had been whittling. Each lazy swing sent the assassins’ swords flying harmlessly aside, and the tip of the branch struck their vital points with surgical precision.
“Ugh, seriously. I told you not to break the windows. I just had those replaced. Fixing them is such a pain!”
Rodin’s voice held more annoyance than anger. The assassin leader cried out in shock.
“Guh… This speed… Don’t tell me you’re a Sword Master?! Taking down the entire Black Fang with nothing but a tree branch…!”
“Master, schmaster. Just pay for the damn glass. Because of you lot I’m already late watering the cabbages. If they dry out, even your lives won’t be enough to repay me.”
Rodin stamped his foot once. BOOM—! An explosive wave of sword aura swept through the room like a shockwave. The remaining assassins trying to climb through the window were hurled outside without even time to scream, smashing into the courtyard ground.
Gareth collapsed where he stood, trembling as he watched the unreal scene: his elite guard annihilated by a man who had been casually whittling a pickaxe handle.
After the storm passed, silence returned. Moments later Dagan and Gil staggered in, huffing as they carried heavy crates of gold bars—literally enough wealth to purchase an entire imperial territory, all looted from Gareth’s secret warehouses.
“Whoa! Sister-in-law! Are all these gold bars really ours?! Man, in all my days I’ve never seen anything shine this bright!” Dagan cheered, biting one of the bars between his teeth.
Veronica nodded in satisfaction and offered Gareth a pen.
“Now, make your choice. Will you be handed over to the imperial authorities as an embezzler, or will you begin a new life as an executive of Black Mane Logistics?”
Tears streaming down his face, Gareth stamped the contract with a violently shaking hand. He was no longer a powerful merchant who could command the Empire; he had become a lifelong slave bound to repay the stronghold’s debts.
“A wise decision. As of today, the Gareth Trading Company is renamed Black Mane Logistics. Ninety percent of all profits will be allocated to stronghold operating expenses and the purchase of premium fertilizer.”
“Boss! Now we can sprinkle gold dust on the cabbages, right?! If we mix gold powder into the fertilizer, won’t they grow even better?”
At Gil’s foolish question Rodin frowned.
“Gold dust? That’d ruin the flavor. Just buy a mountain of the most expensive organic fertilizer from the south. The really rich, savory-smelling stuff.”
Veronica gazed at Rodin past the crates of gold and smiled softly.
“Rodin, this stronghold—your domain—will soon become the richest bandit lair in the entire Empire. I promised you, didn’t I? That I would buy your peace with money.”
After the whirlwind of accounting and the sudden raid, a languid afternoon peace settled over the stronghold once more. Veronica leaned her tired head gently against Rodin’s shoulder.
He flinched at the warmth but ultimately didn’t push her away, merely fiddling with the half-whittled pickaxe handle.
“Rodin, did I do well today? No one will dare look down on us anymore. Count Valder will stay quiet for the time being.”
“Yeah. But next time, try to do it without breaking the windows. Cleaning up glass shards is seriously bothersome. And you’ll be the one wiping away all the dust, got it?”
At his tsundere tone Veronica let out a soft giggle.
“Hehe, understood. In return, I’ll make your favorite meat pie twice as large tonight. The juices will practically burst with every bite.”
“…Put in plenty of meat. You’re too skinny. Eat some yourself. If you collapse there’ll be no one to handle the books, and that would be a real pain.”
Rodin grumbled, then stood up as if embarrassed and practically fled toward the cabbage field. Veronica watched his retreating back, cheeks flushed pink.
Yes, Rodin. For the rest of my life I will cook delicious meals for you and manage your finances. You simply need to stay by my side forever, planting cabbages. So you can never, ever think of anyone else…
A faint yandere obsession glittered in Veronica’s eyes within the shadows, but Rodin was already far away, too busy plucking cabbage worms to notice.