Void (2)
Decent shops and restaurants existed inside the academy's facilities, but Zeron and Medeia left the grounds anyway. The royal capital was right outside the front gate—what was the point of staying cooped up inside?
"So where are we going?"
"Dunno. Heard there's a decent beer joint up ahead. Wanna check it out?"
"Who drinks in the middle of the day!?"
"We'll have to head back by evening anyway."
They hadn't requested an overnight stay, and the kid was living in the dorms, so she had a curfew. Probably around ten at night.
"Is that… so?"
The kid looked tempted despite herself.
"Okay, decision made?"
"Hmph."
She stuck out her tongue with a "Bleh—" and scampered ahead. Her steps alone showed how excited she was. Like some puppy out for a walk, not that he'd say it out loud.
Zeron chuckled and followed after her.
After walking a while and passing through the academy's main gate, the world seemed to change—as if they'd crossed some kind of barrier.
"Hehe."
The excited kid's twin-tails swayed gently. Zeron scanned the surroundings the way the maid had described and kept walking. Plenty of people around. He couldn't help watching the movements of those brushing past them.
"Uncle, what are you doing? Hurry up!"
The kid waved from up ahead, smiling brightly as if she'd tossed all worries aside. Then—
Thud— Thud—
Someone bumped into Zeron's shoulder.
"Watch where you're going."
"Uncle! What's with the attitude? You should apologize properly."
"He bumped into me, why should I?"
"Because you're you…"
The two bickered as they walked away. The man who'd collided with Zeron stopped in his tracks, staring blankly. There was no focus in his eyes.
A dim room with no windows, lit only by candlelight. Two men were scattering a deck of cards across the table.
"It's not that difficult a request."
"The risk seems pretty high, though."
"Not as much these days. Thanks to that so-called artist."
"True enough."
Hoo— Thick smoke clouded the view. The scarred man ground his cigar into the ashtray.
"The reward is a solid five hundred gold."
"Five hundred…!?"
The ordinary-looking man widened his eyes, then nervously lit another cigar and puffed out smoke.
"Who the hell is worth that much? This has to be dangerous, right?"
"David Merchant Group."
"Huh?"
"Their only daughter, apparently."
David Merchant Group… A familiar name. A merchant group that had been exploding in growth within the kingdom lately.
"I see… So it's a dispute between merchant groups."
"That's what I heard. They even call her the Golden Child."
"Hah! You actually believe that nonsense?"
The Golden Child. A superstition that claimed touching her would make gold spring from nothing—something beyond mere business talent. Basically, it meant she brought luck in trade.
"Of course not. But merchants are like that. Anything involving money, no matter how absurd the superstition, gets under their skin."
"Well, anyway. We don't need to capture her alive, right?"
"Killing her is enough. It'll serve as a warning to the David Merchant Group—and if that money flows their way, it'll cut into someone else's pockets."
"Accepted."
When the man across from him nodded, the scarred one laid down his cards with a thud.
"Full house."
The ordinary-looking man smirked and set down his cigar. Then he slammed his own hand onto the table.
"Royal straight flush."
No wonder his luck had been so good… the man thought. If a royal flush like that had hit in a bigger gambling den, he wouldn't have taken this job.
"Ah…"
His mind was slowly turning white. There was no pain. Just a strange numbness, as if he were looking down at himself from above. What had he done? He tried to grasp at his scattering memories. He'd been walking naturally, about to stab the target with a knife—when some man suddenly appeared and knocked his arm away.
A man? Who was he? What he remembered: shaggy brown hair. Dull blue eyes visible between the strands. And… eyes curved in a mocking smile.
…Ah, the Sword Demon. Right. That's what they'd said lurked around the David Merchant Group.
Stumble— His body swayed. His head buzzed. What was this? His dulled senses were sharpening. Then, in an instant—Flash!—it felt like lightning struck his brain.
'Graaaah—!'
He screamed. Or tried to. Pain tore through his entire body. His organs twisted and burst, his eyeballs crushed, his limbs shattering into pieces that swayed—swayed… swayed?
Memories. The request form. His balls being crushed. Information. The Sword Demon. Information. More information. His claws curling. Black and white shattering. Footsteps. Distance. Vision? Murmuring crowds.
'Aaaaaah—!'
Sword Demon. Sword Demon. Sword Demon. Yes, the Sword Demon…! A corpse without a single wound. And above it, that grinning demon! The ghost of the sword! The demon swinging a blade! That damned ghost! Ghost, gho—
Thud—
"Aah…"
The pain vanished as if washed away. A warm sensation wrapped around his entire body. Mother. Yes, ah… Mother. And then, darkness.
"Huh? Uncle, looks like something happened over there."
"Someone collapsed? Well, other people will take him to the hospital or whatever."
"Seriously, you're heartless."
The kid pouted and walked ahead with quick steps. She hummed a little tune, glancing around—then suddenly perked up.
"Oh? Uncle, look over there!"
She pointed at a cafe, eyes sparkling. It was decorated with cute ornaments. Coffee and… macarons? What even were macarons. Anyway, it was a shop selling oddly shaped snacks.
"Sigh, do I really have to go in there? Huh? At my age?"
"Idiot. What does age have to do with cafes? Come on, just follow me!"
She was willful as always.
The macarons were pretty expensive, but tasted better than expected.
"Uncle, do you have a lot of money…? How are you going to eat all that?"
"Huh? I've got some. Your dad pays me, after all."
"Still, you should save a bit…"
Zeron walked with both hands full of packaged macarons. He planned to use them as drinking snacks.
"Whatever. Just watch where you're going. If you trip—oh."
"Eek!?"
Just as he spoke, the kid's ankle twisted. She pitched forward. Zeron casually lifted his leg and caught her around the chest. Hard. Yep, still a kid.
"Owow…"
"Serves you right. That's what happens when you wear shoes you never wear."
"I don't know… This sucks…"
The kid plopped down on the spot and whined. Zeron sighed and looked at the macarons filling his hands.
"Want me to carry you?"
"…What about the macarons, then."
"Just toss 'em."
"Forget it, that's a waste of money."
The kid pouted and stood up abruptly. Then immediately sat back down.
"Ow…"
"You idiot."
"Shut up…"
Zeron stared at her for a moment, then crouched down in front of her. It was the best solution he could think of—keeping both the macarons and the kid.
"Hop on, kid."
"I said I'm fine…"
"Quit complaining and get on. My blood alcohol level's dropping and it's getting dangerous."
"…Alcoholic."
Grumbling, the kid climbed onto his back with awkward movements. She looked small, but she was lighter than he'd expected. A bit surprising.
"You need to eat more."
"What are you saying all of a sudden."
"I mean, how is a girl this light when—ack! Ow, you crazy bitch!"
"Shut up! How do you only say stupid shit every time you open your mouth!?"
Thwack—! The hand hitting his back was pretty fierce. And it didn't stop at one—Thwack—! Thwack—! Thwack—! The beating kept going.
"Hey, I'm seriously gonna throw you off!"
"Do it then! Throw me, you pervert!"
"Oh? You think I won't?"
"Try it!"
He'd actually considered it… but thought of David's face and held back. Maybe that's why he missed it—the kid's lips were curled up in a small, shy smile.
"Agh, shit… still stings."
Zeron sat at the pub table, face twisted in discomfort. His back was still burning.
"Then who told you to say that…?"
The kid looked a bit guilty, her eyes darting around while she pouted. Cute enough that he'd let it slide.
Zeron clicked his tongue and called out.
"Hey, take our order!"
"Yes, yes. What can I get you?"
"Two beers—whatever you recommend. For snacks… Hey, kid. Sausages okay?"
"I want this."
"Pizza? Sure, whatever. Sausages and one of those, then."
"Yep! Just a moment, please!"
The owner hurried off. Zeron glanced around the not-too-wide pub. The orange lighting wasn't too dim, making the interior feel cozy, and the noisy chatter of people could almost count as another snack. The tables were decently clean, and a quick look at the neighboring table showed the food looked pretty good too.
"Not bad."
"Huh? Yeah, it's nice."
"Except for those guys."
Zeron nodded toward a table where some drunk patrons were being especially loud.
"That artist bastard's definitely into corpses."
"Hey, you crazy fuck! What kind of shit is that!? There were male victims too!"
"A guy can fuck corpses too, what's the big deal!?"
"No, you fucking—spit’s flying everywhere, you bastard!"
"Goddamn, they're all insane."
The conversation made no sense, and the constant swearing and shouting was grating on the ears. A little noise was fine, but this was just obnoxious.
"Want me to go smack their heads?"
Zeron grinned, and Medeia freaked out.
"D-don't! Seriously, don't do it, okay? I mean it!"
"Come on, they're so fucking loud. Guys like that shut up real quick after a few hits."
"Ugh, seriously! Keep it down! They'll hear you!"
"Pretty sure they already did."
The kid froze, then slowly turned her gaze. The table across from them was already glaring daggers their way.
"Wh-what do we do now…!?"
"What do you mean? Perfect chance to teach you something, kid. This is part of the pub experience."
"How does this guy always cause trouble wherever he goes…?"
Ignoring the horrified kid, Zeron smirked and stood up. From the other table, three or four men were already approaching with fire in their eyes.
"Why do I even bother with this…"
Medeia's quiet sigh was swallowed by the pub's noise.