Not Here for Revenge
"Aren't you here for revenge on my village?"
"Revenge on my village? From who?"
Their words were circling each other without connecting. At this point, it was hard to believe she was just acting. Had they grabbed some random lookalike with the same name by coincidence and jumped to conclusions? But that didn't fit either—she'd confessed her crimes so straightforwardly.
"Get up."
She sprang to her feet in a flash, and she was pretty tall. A bit shorter than me, but tall enough for a woman.
"Sorry! You don't have to hire me—just please don't report me! Wait, how did you even know?"
I didn't think Karin could hurt me bare-handed. But there was no place she'd hidden that long sword she'd been carrying.
"Because I was the one shooting at you back then?"
Things were starting to wear on me. I had to make sense of this incomprehensible situation while facing someone who might draw a blade and charge at me any second.
"Really?"
Karin grinned and lunged at me in an instant. For a split second, I didn't think to dodge or counterattack. I was certain she'd draw a weapon first, so my plan was to knock it aside and subdue her. But by the time her chest pressed against my face, I still hadn't seen anything in her hands.
"Thank you! I had no idea it was you—the savior of our village!"
"W-what?"
"I thought you seemed familiar somehow... I was gonna apologize later, but by the time I recovered, your unit was gone, and I had no way to find you... Anyway, thank you so much!"
I shoved her back forcibly. My heart was pounding.
"The village... it's safe?"
"Huh? Yeah, we're poor as hell, but everyone's doing fine."
It wasn't completely implausible. When I'd fought her, negotiations were already underway, and it was an era where both sides were scrambling to seize every inch of land for leverage. Once we'd confirmed she couldn't disrupt the front lines herself, it made rational sense not to push for a harsh crackdown.
"Didn't you take care of it?"
Still, considering the civilians massacred mercilessly in the early-to-mid Japanese occupation, that line of thinking felt like nothing more than 'hopeful, selfish fantasy.' If you stab someone with a sword, dump them on the street, and think, 'People walk by here all the time, so someone must've called an ambulance,' you'd be a psychopath believing they're alive.
"Grandma told me... a bunch of soldiers with guns showed up, and it was scary as hell, but they even asked about missing or dead people..."
"And then?"
"We told them the previous soldiers had taken everything, so they gave us rice, and for the ones who'd been taken away and died, they handed over the bodies... I didn't see it myself, but that's what I heard!"
In the late war, unit operations were total chaos. I'd become commander just for being male, with less than a week of training—basically just reading officer manuals without instructors. The real work was handled by soldiers with prior social or combat experience, and the most capable and proactive was Sergeant Lee So-young.
"After that, nothing happened... I heard later that when you and I fought, the villagers were all on edge, worried I'd get stabbed or something and it'd blow up."
Asking about the village population was probably to check for disappearances. I vaguely remembered the rice too. After confirming casualties and absorbing the remaining troops, we'd asked superiors what to do with the rice stockpiled there. The order was to bury it. Standard protocol if rebels might've poisoned it. But the soldiers grumbled about digging holes for consistent amounts. I'd left saying I'd handle the digging, and when I returned, So-young had this relieved look: 'Rice is taken care of—don't worry!'
"I see..."
While I was just fighting, So-young had done what needed doing. She'd downplayed the murdered Japanese woman like it was nothing, seethed inwardly at her stabbed comrades, but gritted her teeth, kept a kind face, and entered the village.
"You got lucky."
Thanks to So-young treating the 'soon-to-die' villagers with kindness and competence to the end—and no nearby units, plus high command focusing on war's end—I hadn't become a murderer. I'd complained about it but never actually done anything.
"Glad to hear it..."
It was easy to misunderstand. After smashing one unit, the next shows up acting like they're not there to harm, offering comfort and aid. No retaliation. To her, I—the commander of that unit—must've looked like a savior.
"So you didn't even know it was me?"
"Nope, not at first. But now it's coming back—your eyes are a dead ringer! Mouth was covered, so I couldn't tell before."
How far away had we been? What was she even seeing to believe that? But dismissing it as delusion didn't fit her freakish physical prowess.
"Seriously, thank you so much for back then!"
I couldn't lift my head from the shame. It was just luck. I didn't deserve thanks. But damn, it felt oddly good. Of course being thanked and loved beat being hated.
But it wasn't my thanks to claim.
I looked up at Karin. She wore a cheeky, relaxed smile.
"I thought you were dead. I reported that you'd wiped out that unit. Figured after our platoon moved, another one massacred your village."
"Eh, couldn't be helped! I'm a soldier too—I know I killed people. If they came for me, I'd think, 'Guess it's time,' and go quietly."
"But I didn't catch you?"
"Th-that's 'cause y-you crazy bastard started shooting first! I legit thought you were gonna burn the whole village!"
Seeing her grumble about almost apologizing eased my tension a bit.
"Ah, I didn't know the enemy's size or who was behind it. Walking in casually was kinda scary."
Karin casually poured liquor into a glass and downed it.
"Ahh~ Mind if I have one? Yeah?"
"You're gonna drink and then talk?"
"Anyway, it's all a misunderstanding, right? So you thought I was some ghost or what?"
"Figured you survived by luck and came for revenge."
"Pfft, overthinking it! Even if that were true, wouldn't I hit the unit that trashed my village first?"
That made sense. She stuck in my memory deep, but if she'd died, it wasn't heavily on me.
"So, am I hired?"
"It's not hiring, it's slavery..."
"Eh, whatever! Slave or not, it's sex sometimes, bodyguard duty, living together and chilling, right?"
Karin laughed like it was no big deal.
"Then why try to become a slave?"
Someone like her could've made plenty without it.
"Well... I ran a sword dojo to get by, but who learns swordsmanship for fun these days?"
"So slavery?"
"Tried odd jobs, scraping to keep the dojo... Didn't work."
Karin grinned sheepishly. She'd been upbeat, but this smile carried a hint of sadness.
"Our village runs on our school's sword dojo, y'know?"
Feeling the glass too small, she carefully tilted the bottle straight into her throat. Impressively, not a drop spilled without touching her lips.
"Deep history, famous too—people came from afar to train, stayed over, ate there..."
I'd only glimpsed it from afar briefly, but it was a pretty village. Like a fantasy nature hamlet brought to life.
"But no one's learning kendo as a sport anymore, so the young ones left bit by bit. Still, some couldn't..."
With able-bodied young women joining gangs or crime for lack of jobs, the elderly and kids couldn't head to cities for work.
"Thought about big-money options—slavery seemed most realistic."
"Still..."
"I... don't know about my face, but I keep my body fit, stayed a virgin. Heard skills like singing or martial arts boost chances beyond just bedroom stuff..."
She said it humbly, but her face was beautiful too—radiating passion, poise, confidence, healthy glow. But the faint resignation behind it stung.
It was bitter that even someone as strong as her had to become a slave just because of money.