Cleanup Time (1)
After lightly slicing through the handcuffs on Gia's wrists, I tossed aside the branch that had served its purpose. The ungrateful bastard who dared to kidnap Gia died pathetically. I even went overboard, using sword threads to completely shred the guy—way more than he deserved. But what can you do? The moment I saw Gia being dragged around by that scum, blood rushed straight to my head.
Elk? Ike? Was that his name? I recalled what the tavern auntie had told me right after I left the orphanage to search for Gia. Of course, it wasn't a name I knew. Six mercenaries who arrived yesterday morning and checked into the inn. From that point on, any outsider talking about the orphanage in the inn or tavern came under scrutiny from the staff. When those guys started hanging out at the tavern before sunset, knocking back drinks and slyly bringing up the orphanage... the staff kept an ear out for what they were saying, and when I dropped by to ask, they told me right away.
'Up until then, they were just chatting about it lightly, like any other outsiders.'
Most outsiders passing through this village who hear about the orphanage react in one of three ways:
1. Oh, I see (indifferent)
2. A big orphanage like that in the countryside? (mild interest)
3. Is it run by some noble slumming it here for health reasons, throwing money around? Better be careful... (standard curiosity)
Whether heading to the upper or lower cities, people don't linger long in this village. They're all just passing through with their own destinations. Among them, the rare weirdos who take a huge interest in a countryside orphanage like ours are few and far between. And even rarer are those who send underlings to raid it after just one day—and with the quick judgment to attempt a kidnapping to boot.
...And yet, here it was, actually happening.
"Ha, seriously, 'fuck'?" I clicked my tongue, remembering the last words spat by Elk—or Ike, whatever—before I diced him up.
"You just made me and my kids feel even shittier, you bastard."
I didn't know how long the guy had been a mercenary, but he was barely past the basics of the Internal Aura Technique—a total beginner at best. The kind of hack who'd last less than a day on the western frontlines where the demon king's army ran rampant before dying or fleeing. He probably had some fun terrorizing villagers or weak monsters. If his underlings were the same level, no wonder he was cocky.
That's how it is when you first learn aura cultivation. Operating in a peaceful backwater, swinging your newly strengthened body to kill monsters you couldn't before, senses sharpening, the world feeling brand new—it pumps up your ego like crazy.
But still, this psycho charged in on shaky intel?
Right up until he despaired at the gap in our realms, the bastard had this smug, confident look, like he was dead certain of his plan. Must've had everything go his way before, building blind faith in his luck. Or maybe he was just a raging narcissist.
...Have I been this pissed since fighting the demon king?
Part of me wanted to drag a necromancer from the demon realm right now, resurrect the guy as an undead, and slice him up another hundred times.
Haa. Calm down, hold it in.
Wasting more emotion on a dead third-rate mercenary was just hurting myself. I let out a deep sigh and turned away without a second glance.
"...Gia."
"...Yes, Director."
Gia, sitting demurely and waiting, smiled up at me. I approached and checked her over. Her knees and elbows were scraped, blood beading red. There were big bruises on her crown, the back of her neck, face, and abdomen. That fucking bastard beat her knowing she's a demonkin.
"You okay? That guy didn't do anything awful to you, right?"
Gia, who knew exactly what I meant by "awful," quietly shook her head.
"Yes. He just slapped me, punched me, and kicked me. Nothing else."
Demonkin or elf women fetch wildly different prices at slave markets depending on their virginity. Money-grubbing mercenaries hold back to preserve the goods' value. Just as I figured. But that didn't quench the raging fury boiling inside me.
"...I should've gotten here before he laid a hand on you. Sorry I let you down, sis."
I slid my hands under her back and thighs, lifting her effortlessly into a princess carry.
"Eek!"
"Let's head back quick. Serelda's there, so healing's no worry. That trash..."
I trailed off, glancing at the lumps strewn on the ground. I could guess what his underlings—whose names I'd already forgotten—had gone through. More bodies to clean up back home.
Eh, they'll be a nuisance, but the villagers will handle it. No doubt.
There's a reason I think like that without hesitation. It's not because I'm a jerk. The orphanage runs entirely on my personal funds. And as a blooming mid-20s noble lady from a prestigious house, my pockets are very, extremely deep.
Ever since settling in the main estate here, I've been regularly "donating" massive sums under the guise of village development funds. Enough that the village chief—passing by on the road—would prostrate himself in a grand bow despite his age. The other villagers know why he grovels like that to me. So no worries about body disposal. Whoever has to do the grunt work will suffer a bit... but with them mutilated like that, it's obvious who killed them.
"—U-um, Director?"
As I carried Gia princess-style back to the orphanage, she spoke up, looking embarrassed.
"Y-yeah? What? Yeah, yeah. Speak up."
"Um, the position is a little..."
I glanced down. My chest was smooshing her face softly. Feeling awkward, I tried readjusting, but with both of us well-endowed, no comfortable pose worked. Now that I'd noticed, it bugged me too. To keep her face away meant her horns poked my chest, or our boobs squished at an oddly uncomfortable angle.
"Aigoo, better to piggyback you like this."
This situation felt weirdly novel. These big lumps had been a pain since reincarnating as a woman... but I'd gotten so used to them that I hadn't accounted for this.
"There, hop on. Let's go like this."
I finally hoisted her comfortably onto my back and resumed walking the forest path.
"...Sorry, Director."
"What're you sorry for? Having bigger-than-average boobs isn't a crime."
"...Not that. For getting kidnapped without even resisting."
Gia's voice turned gloomy as she continued.
"He ambushed the back of my neck, but I withstood it once. If I'd been strong enough to fight back, this wouldn't have happened..."
"......"
"Like our orphanage siblings."
At her self-deprecating addendum, I tilted my head back slightly, bumping her chin lightly with my crown.
"Ow!"
"Don't talk like an idiot. Sure, the others each have some freakish kid-level powers, but that doesn't mean you should belittle yourself."
"...Still."
"The bad guy's the one who kidnapped you—not you. Remember that. You're doing plenty just by being by my side. My precious firstborn."
She let out a small laugh at that, seeming a bit relieved.
"...Still, maybe I should work on defending myself a little from now on."
"......Yeah."
"Yaaawn, I'm sleepy. Tension wearing off, maybe... Falling asleep on your back must be heavy, Director..."
"It's fine. Sleep deep. How heavy can you be?"
"Haaam..."
The voice from my back faded, her breathing soon steady. Her body was fine, but how much mental strain had she endured to fall this deeply asleep so fast? I stepped carefully to not wake her, heading for the annex.
"—Ah, Director! Big sis!"
After quite the trek down the familiar path, Camella waved from afar.
"You came out this far? Gia's sleeping on my back."
"Huh, sis is asleep?"
Camella scampered up and peeked at Gia on my back. Seeing her exhausted sleeping face, she covered her mouth and nodded.
"She looks fine otherwise. Must be wiped out—sleeping like a rock."
"Yeah? Makes sense. Sis got kidnapped by villains."
"How'd you know—ugh, whatever, I can see."
Glancing where Camella had run from, three corpses lay eerily in a row. Up close, I saw: one with its head twisted off, one with snapped neck vertebrae, one with limbs severed and throat slit.
"Camella, you with these guys..."
I narrowed my already slit eyes sharply. Camella flinched, waving her hands frantically.
"Villains, villains! I warned the uncles so many times. Told 'em not to do bad stuff. They wouldn't listen and kept trying, so I had no choice!"
She flailed her hands wildly in full-throated excuse.
I told you to subdue villains without killing if possible. Look at that last one—bled out. I can see you couldn't hold back your impulses!
Normally, I'd point it out and flick her forehead, but...
"...Sigh, fine. Given the circumstances, no flick this time."
"Yay, knew you were the best, Director!"
"Hey, don't say it like it's a given, or I'll wanna smack you anyway?"
—Crack.
"—Ow! Whyyy~"
Putting corpse cleanup on hold, I headed up to the orphanage with the whining Camella.
Stepping into the annex, a foul stench hit me. I gently laid Gia on the long bench by the door and surveyed the wrecked hall. Furniture was jumbled haphazardly, tables a mess. A unfamiliar sack held our orphanage's valuable dishes swept up inside. And in front of Chloe's room lay two more bodies.
"Hm, more comrades, huh."
Camella peered down at the corpses beside me, frowning.
"...They were gonna kill Chloe, Director."
"...Yeah. Looks like it."
One was a dried-up mummy of bones and skin; the other had bled black from every orifice. The "withering plague" that kills through dehydration even after drinking. The "black blood disease" where blood rots black from the heart, causing total hemorrhage. The corpses looked just like victims of those horrific curses.
"...These guys or the ones outside, better burn 'em with magic. Camella?"
I roughly told her where the magic scroll was stashed in the basement warehouse. Infused with "White Flame of Purification," it cleanly incinerates only the dead—undead or human. Clothes and such don't burn. Used it back in my adventurer days for a corpse dragon subjugation. Too lazy to sell it, figured it'd come in handy someday—turns out it did.
"Lotsa stuff down there, might take a while... but got it!"
Camella bounced down to the basement for the scroll. I hopped over the two bodies and quietly opened Chloe's door.
"Chloe?"
"......"
"Not asleep?"
She was huddled on the corner bed, buried under blankets like a dumpling—no answer. I yanked them off in one go.
"Eek..."
Sure enough.
"Eek..., sniff, waaah...!"
Her face was a waterfall of tears and snot.
"D-Director..., s-sorry..."
Must've been like this the whole time—tear tracks everywhere. I wiped her face with my handkerchief and hugged her tight, but the sobs didn't slow.
"Hic, uwaah..., I, I again, made people like th-that..."
"It's okay. Stop. Didn't I tell you?"
I stroked her hair, sighing.
"Anyone who comes here gunning for you is a villain you don't need to feel guilty about killing."
With her messy purple bob, round glasses, looking like a timid, adorable little lady you just wanna hug—that's our Chloe. Trash who could look at a kid like her and feel hostility without hesitation...
"They're the bad ones for seeing you that way. Like I keep saying, Chloe did nothing wrong."
They deserved ten thousand deaths.
"So stop. My good little maknae."
Until Camella returned with the scroll, I kept hugging Chloe tight.