Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Poison Frog
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Lick.
Prog licked his lips as he eyed the gold coin on the table.
When it came to greed for money, Prog was a frog just as ravenous as that creepy vixen.
"Deal?"
The guy who'd been glaring like he wanted to kill him moments ago now approached with curiosity.
"Yeah. A deal."
"What's the offer?"
As he spoke, Prog toyed with his dagger.
"......"
Cyclops hesitated to continue.
"...Let's take down Mad Dog together."
That was Cyclops's proposal.
Heh.
Prog smirked.
"After all that high-and-mighty act, the best you've got is betrayal?"
"Betrayal? Watch your mouth, frog."
Cyclops slammed the table as if wronged.
Thud!
"Even if the ogre's some freak out of spec we can't help, Mad Dog's not!"
His voice brimmed with fury.
"You expect me to bow to a thug who just steals by force?"
"So, you pay a thousand gold upfront, and double it if we bag Mad Dog?"
"Hoh."
Prog's smile grew sleazier.
"You've got quite the stash hidden away? Didn't know you had that kind of pull."
"So, you in or out?"
Swish.
Prog kept fondling his dagger without answering.
"Pass."
That was his final verdict.
"...Why? I figured a money-grub like you would jump at it."
"I've heard the rumors about Mad Dog too, you know."
"What?"
What was this now?
"One of my guys is from Chichiron. He told me."
Lick.
"Chichiron's Mad Dog is a vicious bastard—once he bites, he never lets go."
It was a story that had stuck with him.
The underling who'd barely escaped Mad Dog and sworn to do anything asked of him.
"Still just a 'dog' at the end of the day."
Swish.
Prog rose to his feet.
"Nothing but a house pet, so I figured no need to worry. Didn't expect him to leave his yard."
"You're passing on three thousand gold over that?"
"What are you on about, Cyclops?"
Shing.
A dagger was suddenly at the remaining eye of the lone-eyed Cyclops.
Heh.
Prog's slit mouth stretched nearly to his ears.
"There's already a thousand gold on this table. The other two thousand? I'll find out where you're hiding it while I torture you. You haven't handed everything over to Mad Dog yet."
"......"
"You'd better not think about running or bullshit like that. My boys are already all over the perimeter."
Toying with the dagger had been a signal.
Don't let him have any escape route.
'Lucky me.'
Ever since the ogre showed up, Prog had kept his men on standby out of fear.
A swamp he couldn't escape.
Cyclops was trapped.
"Really...?"
But something was off.
"You're smiling?"
Cyclops was grinning just like him.
"If you've heard the rumors, that's perfect."
A voice came from behind.
Eek!
Prog spun without hesitation, swinging his dagger.
Clang!
His dagger, blocked by something, trembled violently.
"Fingers...?"
Fingers.
Someone's raised index finger was stopping his razor-sharp blade.
"Mad Dog!"
"If the Mad Dog's out of his house, maybe I should let him take a bite."
Boom!
Sein's kick sent Prog's small frame flying pathetically.
"You should've stayed home too. I had to go through some trouble."
*
*
*
"Boss!"
As Prog took the hit, his waiting men charged in.
"How...?"
Prog was more shocked than hurt.
He hadn't let his guard down on the way here after setting the meet.
This dock was protected by dozens of his men, boasting top security.
Yet.
'How did he get behind me...?'
Mad Dog, Sein, had appeared without a sound.
'If he wanted me dead, I'd be gone.'
Prog, who had crossed the line between life and death countless times, knew it.
Shiver.
He couldn't even grasp what Sein had done.
No wonder.
Slash—!
A mere Borfeo back-alley boss like him couldn't know.
The lives Sein had lived.
The lives he'd 'played' through.
"You know, why are you all backing away like that?"
He'd never know Sein had once been a continent-shaking assassin.
"...Mad."
"M-monster."
Nearly half the men at the dock were already dead.
It happened while Prog flew into the wall and Cyclops sized up the situation.
'No backup from outside either.'
They were probably all dead.
How?
The doubt lasted only a moment.
Boom!
Even Cyclops, who'd just been watching, swung his sword at Prog's men.
"GraHAHAha! You bastards! This is our new boss of the Cyclops Crew, Mad Dog!"
Seeing Sein's prowess fired Cyclops up even more.
Prog bit his lip.
But he had no intention of dying like this.
"Sure, Mad Dog's got sharp teeth..."
Prog stood using his one good leg and prosthetic as crutches.
"I'm Borfeo's...!"
Click!
The leg he'd dismissed as just a prosthetic changed.
"Poison Frog!"
Fwoosh—!
Smoke exploded, filling the room in an instant.
Poison Frog.
The moniker for Prog, who ruled Borfeo's back alleys with drugs, smuggling them via the river.
"Gah, hack! B-boss!"
"Kek!"
Prog's men collapsed with agonized groans.
"You filthy, filthy...!"
Cyclops, raging at Sein's display, crumbled too.
"Kekeke. It's Ormi's poison, you idiots."
It wouldn't kill instantly, but the agony was so intense death would be mercy.
Prog had.
"Fuck, this was for the ogre."
Survived this way all along.
"Since it's come to this, you lot can be my punching bags."
He wouldn't kill with poison.
He'd keep them alive in torment.
Shing.
Then tear them apart himself until they begged forgiveness.
That was Prog's way.
"Especially you, Mad Dog..."
Prog advanced through the smoke, daggers clashing.
But he soon stopped, staring blankly upward.
"That all you got hidden?"
Eyes gleamed in the smoke.
They should have been sky-blue.
"And let's get one thing straight."
"H-how...?"
Was it his imagination that they looked so blood-red?
"The idiot isn't me—it's you. Oh, and that one-eyed freak too."
"How the hell—!"
Prog lunged with twin daggers.
"No worries."
He couldn't know.
"I don't discriminate—disabled or not."
Crunch!
Dragons, called the ultimate lifeforms.
Poison didn't work on them.
*
*
*
"Deren."
"Yes, boss."
"How's the turf grab going?"
Three days had passed since Prog's death.
Sein, who had swept through Borfeo like a flood, had paused.
"We took Prog's turf too."
"The men?"
As Sein pressed.
"Aaagh!"
"S-save me!"
Screams rang out from beyond the dock.
Splash!
Ripples spread across the Beecul River nonstop.
"Handling it now."
"Good work."
Prog had been a drug lord.
Spreading his poison across Borfeo.
Naturally, most of his men were addicts.
"Eyeball."
"Yes... Y-yes! Boss!"
Cyclops barked in a rigid stance.
He hadn't held such form since his rookie mercenary days.
"Remember this."
Sein lounged crookedly.
"I don't care about much, but I run a tight ship on drugs and whoring."
Cyclops shut his mouth under the menacing aura.
"Got it?"
"Y-yes! Boss!"
"Good."
Three days.
Time since Prog's fall.
Sein hadn't moved, but Cyclops and Deren had torn through the back alleys, claiming Prog's turf.
'Not moving.'
Prog was a test.
To see how Borfeo's back alleys would react.
'Ogre.'
To see how the new back-alley boss would respond.
But three days in, nothing.
"Planning to sit tight for a while? Or..."
Maybe they couldn't move.
Whatever it was.
Heh.
He'd confirmed what he wanted.
"Deren."
Sein had also spent three days confirming something else.
"You've pinned down that ogre's location, right?"
The ogre's spot.
The one who'd cleaned up the back alleys and now hid somewhere.
"Found him."
"As expected. You're the man, Deren."
The skill that had kept him alive in this dog's life early on.
Swish.
Sein rose from Prog's old seat.
Step.
His footsteps echoed.
Deren followed naturally, in sync with him.
Step.
One-eyed Cyclops trailed behind.
"So, where's the bastard?"
"Iron mine district."
Iron mines, huh.
"Borfeo's got everything. I like this city."
And this city.
Creeak.
Would soon be his.
Sein stepped out the dock doors.
He kept walking.
Tap.
With a light jump, he mounted the shelf where cargo had once been unloaded.
"Nice to meet the new faces who haven't seen my mug yet."
His voice boomed.
"I'm Sein Demorus, Chichiron's Mad Dog."
"......"
No one spoke easily, as if warned already.
Or maybe silenced after seeing Prog's men get dumped in the river.
"How's it feel to have your cozy city snatched by outsiders?"
Sein asked.
"How's it feel to lose the city where you played kings?"
Heh.
"How's it feel to watch your so-called sworn brother drop dead?"
Sein straightened.
"It's filthy!"
Someone shouted.
"Shut it, moron."
Sein shot a sharp glare.
The men clamped their mouths shut.
"If you're pissed and hurting, you should've stormed in ages ago. If it aches, you should've thrown a fit."
A sneer played on Sein's lips.
"What can the do-nothings do?"
Tap.
Sein hopped down from the shelf.
He turned his back.
"Doesn't matter anyway. Just follow me..."
Heh.
"And I'll get you what you want."
Cyclops Crew: fifty.
Prog's crew: twenty.
Clad in mismatched clothes, wielding random weapons.
"Let's go, you morons."
They fell in behind Sein.
"Unlike you lot, I got no patience."