A New Encounter
"You're joking, right?" Mitchell let out a laugh. But her eyes weren't laughing at all.
"I'm not joking. Let me be clear: I'm the party leader, Mitchell."
"This is embarrassing." Mitchell brushed back her messy bangs. "Kid, are you serious?"
She reached for her drink, and then—whoosh! Suddenly, a fist appeared right in front of my eyes. It stopped just a hair's breadth from the bridge of my nose. If she had followed through, it would have been more than enough power to shatter the skull of a fragile girl like me.
"You think you're stronger than me?" Mitchell slowly pulled her fist back. Her intense gaze remained locked on me. Honestly, I was terrified, but I met her eyes with a calm, unbothered expression.
"Mitchell, let me ask you something. What does it mean to be strong?"
"What?" Mitchell narrowed her eyes at the sudden, random question.
"What kind of nonsense is that? If you fight and win, you're strong."
"Right? Let's say two people fight, one dies, and the other survives. Then the one who survives is stronger, right?"
"Well, obviously."
I continued with a relaxed tone. "If we two fight, you're the one who ends up dead, Mitchell. I don't die."
"What...?" For the first time, doubt flickered in Mitchell's eyes. She wanted to dismiss it as nonsense, but she could sense the sincerity in my words. Because she read my unwavering conviction, she was likely confused. What is she so confident about? Is there something I don't know...? That's what she must have been thinking.
Well, I'm not entirely wrong.
If Mitchell really wanted to, she could beat me to death in five seconds—no, three. But even then, after some time, I would revive thanks to my Undying trait. To Mitchell, who didn't know the secret of my resurrection, it would be utterly baffling. And conversely, Mitchell would die. Even if I didn't kill her myself, the vigilantes or the guards would eventually finish her off. There were plenty of enemies lurking, waiting for a chance to take her down. So, in the end, Mitchell dies and I live. From the perspective that the one who survives until the end is the strong one, I am indeed stronger. Even if I did skip over a lot of the middle steps.
"Wow—what is this kid so confident about? Huh. This is interesting."
Surprisingly, Mitchell didn't lose her temper or fly into a rage. Instead, she wore a light smile, as if she found me intriguing, and examined me closely.
So that's her type.
I had roughly grasped Mitchell's personality. She was competitive and honest. A simple woman who knew what she liked and what she didn't. She called me a kid, but she was the one acting more childish. And finally, the most important point: She likes people who challenge her fairly and squarely. She felt more interest in someone who stood their ground and clashed with her than someone who groveled and bent the knee. With this type, you must never let them look down on you. Once she perceived you as weak, she would immediately lose interest and treat you with cold, bug-like indifference.
Gulp, gulp— Mitchell downed the rest of her drink in one go and stood up abruptly.
"Kid, enough talk. Prove it with your skills. Follow me."
The smell of alcohol hit me. I knew she'd say that. I crossed my arms, keeping my composure, refusing to be swept up in her pace.
"I don't feel like it."
"What? Was it all just talk after all?"
"No, I'm still certain I'd win. But if we fight, it only ends when you die. What would be the point of that? I called you here to recruit you as a party member, not to kill you."
"What? Wow—seriously, damn it—" Mitchell was so dumbfounded she couldn't even retort, just thumping her chest in frustration.
At that moment, Flora intervened.
"I, I don't think it's good for comrades to fight each other."
Though she hunched her shoulders like a frightened squirrel, Flora still said her piece. "Estelle-ssi, Mitchell-ssi—can't we just agree that you're both strong and leave it at that?"
"That's not how it works. I mean, I'm not saying we should fight like enemies, just check who's stronger—"
Mitchell's words were cut short. A massive shadow, one I was starting to get used to. Wagner was standing next to me before I knew it.
"If you two fight, I will assist Estelle."
Oh, I didn't expect him to help. That's reassuring. Am I lucky with my party members? The people I gathered without much thought all seem pretty decent the more I look at them. This is a problem. If I get attached, it'll be hard to replace them with better members later...
"Protecting my comrades is my duty. It is only natural."
"Hey, you bear-man, is that all you can say? And damn it, am I not a comrade too? Why are you only taking the kid's side?"
"Estelle is a mage. She is the existence that must be protected above all else. Am I wrong?"
"The kid is a mage?" Mitchell trailed off. Her face showed she was seeing me in a slightly different light. That made sense; mages were quite rare in the frontier. It felt like I could see the calculator in Mitchell's head spinning rapidly. She must have been replaying everything I'd said. If we fight, she's stronger. But she can't hold back. Once we fight, she has no choice but to kill the opponent. If she's a mage, that might be true... That conclusion must have been dawning on her.
"Ahem." Mitchell cleared her throat and sat back down.
"Fine, I get it, kid. You're actually capable of something, unlike how you look?"
"Think what you want."
"Still, though—I'm not convinced. It feels as uncomfortable as not wiping after using the bathroom. I need to settle this somehow to feel refreshed."
As expected of a competitive elf. She seemed to have given up on fighting directly, but she wasn't going to back down easily. Can't be helped. I'll have to knock that sharp nose of hers down a peg. I scanned the tavern. I didn't have to look far before something useful caught my eye.
"Mitchell, then how about this?"
When she saw the deck of cards in my hand, Mitchell's eyes sparkled.
Shuffle, shuffle— Flora, acting as the dealer out of nowhere, shuffled the cards with clumsy hands. Five cards were laid out in front of me. The game we decided to settle things with was Five Card Draw. The rules were simple. You get five cards and settle the score with the hand you're dealt. It was the simplest and most intuitive game among the hundreds of poker variants. But within that simplicity, there was an unexpected depth. This game couldn't be won by luck alone.
"Damn it..." Mitchell scowled. She must have been feeling bitter after losing repeatedly throughout the game.
"Flora, are you sure you shuffled those right? You're not just taking his side because you know him, are you?"
Mitchell complained to poor, innocent Flora. Flora, who had been tense, flinched when she was singled out.
"Yes? I just did as I was told..."
"Whoever it is, if I catch you cheating, I won't let it slide."
Mitchell threatened her. Well, she was an elf who had just caused a scene by exposing a cheater. Her threat probably wasn't just talk. But even so...
How do you think you're going to catch me?
I maintained my poker face and focused my mana into my gloves. Clairvoyance. My eyes were imbued with superhuman vision, and the cards face-down on the table were laid bare. Let's see. I had a Jack-high straight. Mitchell had a 9-high straight. After checking the hands, I immediately deactivated Clairvoyance. I didn't have the luxury of using the ability throughout the game since my mana was low.
So she was acting like she had a bad hand.
In Five Card Draw, where you have to win with the initial five cards, a 9-high straight was a hand worth betting on. Mitchell had been digging a trap to lure me in.
But she got caught immediately.
A game where only I could unilaterally see all the hands? There was no game easier than this in the world. Now, shall I start betting?
I counted the gold coins piled high on the table and gave up. It was too much of a hassle to count. "How much money do you have left?"
"...Probably about four thousand."
"I'll bet whatever you have left."
Mitchell narrowed her eyes and licked her lower lip. An elf licking her lower lip? Was she angry? Or was she happy that I'd taken the bait just as she was itching for a showdown? A poker pro would analyze every little gesture like this, but I didn't know much about that... I was just going to take the money in a game where victory was already guaranteed.
We each placed our bets and revealed our hands.
"Ah, f*ck, seriously."
The beautiful elf with a foul mouth spat out a string of curses. Bang! Mitchell slammed both fists onto the table. She was definitely the type to "shotgun" her keyboard if a game didn't go her way at a PC cafe.
And so, the game ended. Final score: Me, 11,600 gold. Mitchell, wiped out, her entire fortune of 8,200 gold sucked dry.
"I won."
Mitchell knew it without me saying it, but I declared my victory, enjoying the ease of a winner. This is why the Clairvoyance rune is so broken. In certain types of gambling, it's practically invincible. And this victory was just a taste. Later, when we go to the city of debauchery, Sodomora, the true value of the Clairvoyance rune will shine. I plan to earn enough to burst my wallet there.
"...You cheated."
Mitchell, who had been silently glaring at the table for a while, lifted her head and said.
"What, are you going to flip the table again?"
"No. I have a hunch, but I don't know what trick you pulled."
Mitchell pouted her lips like an octopus and tapped the cards with an annoyed gesture. "How did you do it, kid?"
"If I tell you, you'll get mad."
"No, I won't get mad. It's not like I'm asking to void the game now; I'm just frustrated."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Promise."
She must have been genuinely curious, as she held out her pinky finger the moment I finished speaking. She really did have a strangely innocent, childish side. "Alright. The secret is—"
I told Mitchell the secret of the Imperial Silk Gloves and the Clairvoyance rune. Since she'd be a party member, this was information we'd have to share eventually, so I couldn't keep it hidden forever.
"...So that's what it was. What a damn ridiculous rune. Ugh—"
Mitchell tapped her head and gritted her teeth. "Fine, I was completely had. Can't be helped. You won, kid."
She suddenly held out her hand to me. I cautiously took it, wary that she might suddenly yank me and slam me into the floor, but—
"Our party leader, who's good at cheating and has a quick brain. I'll be counting on you from now on—are you happy now?"
Mitchell smiled broadly as we shook hands. Flora, relieved that the atmosphere had turned friendly, placed her hand on top of ours.
"Mitchell-ssi, I'll be counting on you too."
"Yeah. But I haven't given up yet. If I ever feel like you're not fit to be the party leader, I'll challenge you again anytime, so keep that in mind."
"Do whatever you want."
"But kid, you're giving my money back now, right?"
Mitchell trailed off with an awkward smile. I already guessed what she was going to say, but I pretended not to know and asked back. "What money?"
"The, the gambling from earlier... You're not really going to take all that money, are you? No way~ I'll be penniless then? I won't even have money to buy food?"
"If I were going to give it back, I wouldn't have gambled in the first place. What would be the fun in that?"
Mitchell's pretty face turned pale in an instant. "No, give me half at least. No, even a quarter... Come on, kid? Party leader? Hey? Don't pretend you can't hear me—Party leader!"
Nope, I don't want to. You keep calling me a kid, so I'm not giving it back out of spite. After our first meeting ended like this, Mitchell stuck to my side and begged whenever she had the chance during the subsequent drinking sessions... but I never wavered. Even though I was in a position where I had to substitute orange juice for a toast because this weak body couldn't handle alcohol, a party leader still had to maintain their dignity. The hierarchy established by the power of capital would continue for the time being.