Ah! Memories of the Shy and Cute Knight's Return Journey! (2)
“Ah! Memories of the shy and adorable knight’s return journey!”
“Crush my shoulder down to the bone? Did I really think that?” Honoravant felt a strange premonition and flinched in fear. No way. That couldn’t happen. No one in the world could do something like that with raw strength alone. Even if you chugged an entire drum of Morphosis’s enhancement serum, that kind of power was impossible. The swindler whose specialty was ripping people off paradoxically clung to his innocent “no way,” and the common sense that had sided with him for centuries suddenly betrayed him—along with the sound of something snapping like a bundle of twigs, a noise that should never have come from a shoulder joint.
“Graaaagh—!”
“This damn ape!”
When his subordinates rushed in, the Sapiens released Honoravant. With his shoulder blade shattered and twisted, Honoravant slumped against the wall, sobbing. Every wheezing breath sent fresh tears spilling down his face.
Something was wrong. Today was supposed to be the day the Sapiens fought Imperator. That was why he had been trying to unload as many badges bearing Nathan’s hanged face as possible. The moment news of the Sapiens’ death arrived, this business would be finished. That was why he had come all the way to this backwater district with no broadcast screens, grabbing anyone he could to force a sale. So why was the Sapiens here? The corpse that should have been reduced to meat between dinosaur teeth or paste beneath their feet. Even if he had somehow overcome the mass difference and pulled off a victory, wasn’t it logical that he would be missing limbs and hovering at death’s door?
“This is… this is cowardly.” The words slipped out unconsciously. Yes, cowardly. Honoravant’s eyes, bloodshot like a white rat’s, bulged. It had to be someone’s conspiracy. He could think of nothing else but that he had fallen into a trap. But if anyone had fallen into a trap, it was only his subordinates who had come running at his desperate shout.
“…Boss?”
Honoravant lay crumpled, his shoulder crushed. The two who had been guarding him at first were crumpled and folded, fallen to the ground—whatever had happened to them. The fourth victim was the youngest, whose bulk had been inflated with muscle. Grinning as if to say he wouldn’t let his seniors lift a finger, he stepped forward and threw a reckless punch at the hooded stranger.
“No strength at all. Does your big brother starve you or something?”
The moment his wrist was caught, he thought the grip was quite strong. When five fingers dug into muscle, he thought the grip was absurd. And when everything below the elbow burst apart from that single hand’s grip, the Eleim wondered if he had been bitten by a beast.
“Kahak, graaagh—! My arm—! Mooooom—!”
An arm that had never broken in over a hundred years shyly revealed its insides. The youngest, who had been backing away saying he would die, was shoved by his flustered seniors and fell into a mud pile by the roadside. A year’s worth of hollow loyalty was thus buried in the mud.
Taking the youngest as a warning example, the gang drew weapons instead of fists. But the hooded man did not retreat. He only approached with a wide grin, like a hyena that had spotted a pack of wild dogs. Yes, a hyena. Just like the bone-chewing beast he had seen in documentaries…
“Uh, uh…?”
Crack. The Sapiens’ sudden slap crushed the nearest Eleim’s face. The youngest’s burst arm. The sound of bone breaking from a cheek. A fight with nothing to gain. Reason enough to run. But three facts gave the gang courage. They were many. They were armed. And the most important fact: nowhere in the Heavens did an Eleim let a ground-dweller get away with such disrespect. The group’s hatred sometimes made them forget even natural fear.
Enraged by the Sapiens’ insolence, the gang charged all at once. But swinging lumps of metal made little difference. They all came to the same regret as the youngest. The moment they thrust their weapons forward with half-hearted resolve—hit and they fainted, kicked and they broke. Grabbed and burst, rammed and crushed. If anything came within twenty centimeters, the Sapiens mechanically launched an uppercut like a forge’s automatic hammer. Without even untying the long, awkward bundle strapped to his back.
One unlucky member had his ankle caught and was driven headfirst into a brick wall. When the graffiti-covered brick wall collapsed with a crash, the member’s front pocket burst and dozens of badges shot up like a golden fountain. Nathan giggled as he picked up a pile of badges from the dust. Several brass faces of the hanged Nathan clattered down.
“Why are you carrying so many of these? Are you goldmine goblins?”
Teeth, dust, and screams flew like fireworks. Honoravant, dazed and overwhelmed by his senses, crawled away, leaving his brothers turning to pulp behind him. And he kept muttering.
“This is cowardly.”
“Until just now I was thinking I didn’t want to bully someone who fell down.”
Thanks to hearing countless sophisms, he had learned one fact: trying to refute was a waste. So instead of trying to argue against the rabbit-ear’s cowardice theory, Nathan stepped on his cracked shoulder and shut him up.
Graaaagh. Even a dishonest roadside robber’s screams were honest.
“Now I think I can enjoy this. The moment I stand you up, you collapse right back to the ground. Like a swamp leech, you little bastard.”
Weight pressing down with steady steps. Honoravant pressed his face to the dirt and screamed. The pain kept him from fainting. Nathan made a proposal to the struggling Eleim. Honoravant had no choice but to accept. And he was grateful for his own luck in possessing what the man wanted.
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“What did you say you were? A sucker collection squad?”
“Hrk, Medal Guardian Corps.”
“What’s that? Like the Public Safety Corps?”
The Public Safety Corps was an official organization funded by the state. But the Medal Guardian Corps, while receiving tax support, occupied a more ambiguous position. They enjoyed both the dignity of a public organization and the freedom of a private one, so to speak. Honoravant rattled off his usual lengthy explanation even while groaning in pain. But Nathan saw through it immediately.
“Sounds like local thugs taking bribes from those in power.”
“…In terms of serving the citizens, we’re no different from the Public Safety Corps.”
“What’s the same besides that? Does the Public Safety Corps buy medals with money too?”
Honoravant grimaced and tossed painkillers into his mouth. The Medal Guardian Corps was an organization full of creative young people. These petty experts, well-versed in businesses that could pick a passerby’s pocket, could provide more than enough of the services Nathan needed. A handmade map made to sell to outsiders from other districts. Including Galarhorn’s headquarters location. One thousand credits. A slightly ambiguous rip-off. And a means of transportation better than walking while half-asleep. A bicycle carriage. Three thousand credits per kilometer. A rather serious rip-off.
Of course, Nathan, whose wallet situation was no different from a newborn’s, was an exception. After a serious conversation, the benevolent Eleim concluded they should show charity to a Sapiens who didn’t even know the market price. Of course, the conversation between them had been a conversation of bodies, and the Sapiens had been an excellent debater. If they pushed any further, they would be saving on medical bills only to spend it on funeral costs.
Every time the bicycle carriage jolted, it felt like his shoulder would fall off, but Honoravant worried about Nathan’s mood before the pain. Afraid he might suddenly explode saying the ride was uncomfortable.
“Welcoming me with a medal the moment I come out, how can I not be grateful.”
But Nathan, accustomed to horseback life, showed no discomfort at all.
“By the way, did you make this yourself? It came out pretty ugly.”
“We ordered it from a factory, Sapiens. Do you even know what a factory is—”
Honoravant never saw the fist. Only after a dull pain bloomed on his nose bridge did the Eleim realize he had been hit. Watching the rat-like creature clutch his mouth and moan, Nathan smiled warmly.
“Who’s been running their mouth about our world to make you like this? Everyone’s so desperate not to lose a staring contest to a human. Like they expect to be treated like royalty. In our world, if some petty thief thug glares at a knight, his head gets smashed by a horseshoe. You hundred-year-old street trash picking up pennies.”
Nathan shot a glare at the bicycle riders peeking inside the carriage. The riders with heavy bruises quickly turned their heads away.
“If the source of your pride is your race and not your age, maybe you would think that way. When I was twenty-two, I was picking my nose and playing in the dirt in empty lots. Bullshit. Just a few years ago I was strangling dragons owned by those damn bitches to make a living. Can you do that at your age now, you wrinkle-free old man?”
Honoravant, trembling while gripping the carriage window frame, met eyes with those watching through the gap. Honoravant’s eyes screamed. Help me. Please help. A crazy ground-dweller Sapiens is trying to kill a celestial Eleim. But the back-alley residents quietly looked away. Just as they always had whenever Honoravant’s gang conducted their forced sales in their territory. Getting involved would only bring danger. Their organization wasn’t respectable enough to request rescue from the Public Safety Corps. But neither could they accompany him to the end without losing face.
Honoravant ground his teeth and spoke.
“I’ve been cutting deals in the eastern alleys for over fifty years. I’ve done everything from petty theft to stabbing people in the back. Getting hurt this much isn’t anything special.”
“Must be proud. Someone I know spent over fifty years risking their life caring for dying poor people. So?”
Nathan looked toward the carriage’s destination with a relaxed expression. The road was getting narrower. It seemed the carriage wasn’t heading in the direction Nathan wanted. As expected, at the end of the road, a gang of dozens of thugs was waiting. Their black coats were particularly impressive.
“How many beggars did you gather? Aren’t you scared of the superhuman who subdued a dinosaur with just his eyes?”
“Who would believe that, swindler death row inmate? Any uninvited guest in the back alleys gets dealt with the same day. There’s not just our organization in the back alleys. There’s our boss’s organization too. And the organizations of those who are bosses to our boss. You think you can handle all of us? Did surviving the punitive arena make you forget fear?”
Honoravant was so triumphant he even giggled. Thanks to the strong drugs that made him forget the pain in his shoulder.
“Didn’t your parents teach you, Sapiens? Never get in a carriage driven by a stranger you don’t know, because you never know when that stranger might turn into a bad monster!”
“My father didn’t teach me that. Instead, he taught me how to catch and kill them. And which parts of a monster to cut off and grill so you don’t get an upset stomach.”
The map and costs were one thousand credits. The carriage, several thousand credits. He didn’t know how much they planned to skim, but according to the Eleim, that was the price. And what was waiting there was probably the back-alley thugs’ life-collection toll booth. This time the passage fee would be the Sapiens’ head. Especially the last service warmed Nathan’s heart. Just as he had thought, they had the ability to provide the services Nathan needed.
Honoravant blinked blankly. Something was wrong.
“…Did I know it would come to this?”
“Similar but a little different. I was hoping you’d charge. One more person at least.”
“Damn it, you think you’ll be safe after this—!”
“What about you?”
The moment Honoravant’s face turned pale, Nathan charged at him. Crash. The bicycle riders sobbed and pretended not to see the commotion inside the carriage. Their only thought was to hand the Sapiens over to the higher organization and escape quickly.
“Graaaagh—!”
“How about you? Do you think the medicine you just took can save you from me?”
Juice flowed from Honoravant’s bloodshot eyes as he was grabbed. The pain erased by the narcotic painkiller returned. Nathan pressed firmly on the Eleim’s thigh, planting the copper badge there. Literally.
“A gift so you don’t forget. Carry it with you. And stop picking fights by half-heartedly selling poorly made pins to random people.”
Honoravant struggled with all his might to remove the hand pressing on his thigh. But Nathan’s forearm didn’t budge no matter how much he hit or pushed. Nathan patiently awakened the senses of the drugged Honoravant. As it slowly dug in like a turtle, the flesh tore and blood trickled down. The agony revived from the thigh. The ruined shoulder and smashed nose bridge bloomed with pain again. Honoravant felt like he wanted to wail.
Why, why on earth was he doing this to someone he had never met before—
“You think I wouldn’t get angry if it were you?”
Nathan pressed the badge engraved with the beheaded Nathan deep under the skin like a seed. And he headbutted Honoravant’s nose, which was dripping with blood.
Crunch. Honoravant, whose cartilage was flattened, finally obtained what he had so desperately wanted. Unconsciousness without dreams.
“Don’t expect me to fear you. You should fear me. You’re the ones who picked a fight with the Lion-Winged Knight.”
Nathan leaped down from the carriage. Kicking and breaking through the barricade made of stacked furniture. Visible between the fluttering odds and ends were hands gripping daggers and pitchforks. Nathan cheered and ran toward them.
Thanks, Honoravant. Thanks for picking a fight.