The mercenary Cardin, who occupied the organization, sat facing Preston.
“Boss, when on earth is your boss coming?”
Preston looked flustered.
“No matter how much you rush, those who are late will be late. We don’t even know when he will come in the first place.”
“Quite the proper boss, aren’t you?”
“No, it’s my organization.”
Preston looked extremely unfair.
“Bureaucrats all say that. You don’t need to feel so wronged. It’s the truth.”
“No….”
Preston looked even more wronged.
A presence was sensed outside the room.
Cardin’s expression shifted.
Is he here?
He took his sword and left the room.
The bloody area was revealed. The corpses had been removed, but traces of the bodies left behind red marks that could not be erased.
A girl with a pink tone looked at the traces of the bodies with a stiff face. As if retracing the remnants of the battle, she turned her head towards Cardin.
Cold eyes glared.
“You are quite rude.”
It was a cold voice.
Was she the girl who massacred thirty people? A force befitting that infamy. She arrived just as expected.
Cardin’s smile deepened. He placed a hand on his chest and slightly bowed his head.
“My name is Cardin. I am a mercenary, striving to gain experience despite my lacking skills. I wonder what your name is, Miss.”
“I have no name to give to a cad.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Cardin gripped his one-handed sword.
Pastel could not contain her anger.
What is this peaceful demeanor after killing someone?
The person you killed was someone who had been kind to me. They were the ones who helped the girl instead of capturing her.
Heat surged, and excitement enveloped her body. Her breathing became disordered.
“Don’t get swept away by emotions. A narrow focus creates unnecessary openings. Rough breathing can disrupt the flow of combat.”
I know.
The heat was coldly suppressed.
She fixed her gaze on her opponent.
“While it may not be a rapier, it’s a long sword that is thin and long. Is it small swordsmanship? You are gripping it with some fingers crossing the crossguard. It’s a grip intended for thrusting. Be wary of surprise thrusts.”
Cardin extended the one-handed sword forward, on guard. With his arm straightened, the sword extended sharply like a spear.
“Unlike you, who prioritizes close-quarters combat, I prioritize distance, demonstrating a defensive strategy. I am waiting for you to come in first.”
She steadied her breath.
“Though not on par with an elite knight, a strike from your sword will likely be light and fast. Be cautious.”
Pastel assumed her stance and aimed her sword.
Cardin seemed to beckon her forward with a slight flick at the sword’s tip. It was an attitude of readiness to defend with defensive swordsmanship.
Pastel pouted her lips.
“Isn’t it cowardly to just wait for the opponent to come?”
Totally a coward.
Cardin chuckled.
“You don’t seem to be good at provoking. Have you lived too gently? I wonder if that’s why you have issues with swordplay. Your boss’s skills are lacking, making the fallen unfortunate.”
The tip of his sword pointed to the traces of the bodies.
Pastel’s brow furrowed.
“I have enough skill to eliminate a cad!”
She struck the ground. A powerful force hit the ground. There was noise. The distance closed explosively.
She swung her sword.
Cardin stepped back.
Then, he moved his sword lightly. The elegantly curved long sword grazed the path of her sword. A shock occurred. The trajectory twisted, causing the strike to miss.
A clean parry.
The girl who failed her attack showed an opening.
In that moment, the offensive turned around. Following the principles of defensive swordsmanship, a counterattack would follow, and the girl would fall.
However, the one who created the result, Cardin, could not attack. The strike was heavy. In that moment of shock, the long sword wobbled under the strain. The impact surged through him and struck his body.
What kind of strength…!
Clearly, what was cut was a long sword, but it seemed the backlash was from a great sword being brutally struck. He had to regain his posture instead of mounting a counterattack.
This was not strength that could be produced by a fragile girl’s body. The power was worlds apart from her appearance.
Another strike followed.
Cardin wiped away his surprise and moved. With polished steps, he distanced himself and set the long sword on course. He carefully observed the tip of the sword coming down.
According to the lever principle, the closer to the tip, the less power the strike has. A strong strike can be easily deflected if dealt at the tip. Small swordsmanship, prioritizing distance, excelled at this refined deflection and counters.
Cardin attempted the parry with skilled finesse. The long sword collided with the tip. A shock occurred.
The shock coursed through him.
Cardin inhaled. His stance wobbled. Instead of a counterattack, he had to recover from the impact.
He had to admit it. The opponent was not wielding a long sword. She was swinging a heavy weapon like a great sword.
The girl, realizing her superiority in power, lit up her eyes. The blade gleamed. The characteristic chain of attacks of the two-handed sword surged forward. The trajectory covered her view.
There was nothing to deflect.
Then, she could let it slide.
She had suffered through countless such disadvantages.
Cardin stepped back, marking a diagonal step. He placed his sword on the trajectory.
He pushed away without colliding.
A noticeably lesser shock occurred. Sparks flew. The trajectory twisted slightly and barely grazed Cardin.
Cardin’s long sword moved swiftly. Several small shocks occurred in succession. Noise reverberated as sparks flew.
The relentless strikes were adjusted one by one.
3, 7, 14, 23.
Every trajectory twisted, slicing through the air.
The surprised girl’s eyes widened.
To be surprised by this, what a lack of experience.
Cardin seized the opening in her emotions. He abruptly changed to a defensive posture. The blade shone. A quick thrust aimed at the girl.
The girl twisted her body at once. The blade lightly grazed her shoulder. A drop of blood flew. The girl’s dazed gaze followed the droplet of blood as it flew away.
I won.
The broken offense followed with a counterattack.
The girl lacked the experience to calmly overcome this change in the flow. The fear of death would dominate her mind.
At the point where consciousness crumbled and the unconscious rose, the only outcome for the swordsman was defeat.
Cardin jabbed the sword again.
In that moment, the pink eyes grew dazed. As she watched the piercing blade, she locked eyes with Cardin.
An intense killing intent surged. His guts chilled, and his skin prickled.
A distinct change.
Cardin could hardly contain his surprise.
Could it be she hadn’t held any killing intent until now…?
The girl grinned crookedly. The magical sword slipped from her hand. The blade thrust forward, and her arms rose.
As if targeting the blade, her arms crossed powerfully. The shock resonated. The thin blade twisted, and a breaking sound echoed. Silver shards scattered.
Cardin was left staring blankly at the flying shards.
What is… what is this…?
The girl’s hand stretched out. Her hair was grabbed, and her legs were kicked. Her body floated.
In an instant, Cardin was slammed to the ground. A shock occurred. Blood spewed from his mouth.
Pastel rushed toward the fallen opponent. She mounted him and swung her fists. The sound of impacts echoed consecutively.
The sound of twisted arms blocking could be heard. His face opened up, and punches landed. Blood sprayed with a scream.
A calm voice was heard from somewhere.
“You can stop now.”
Pastel paused. She completed her punch and hit his face, shaking his head.
A feeling akin to waking from a slumber came over her.
“You won.”
“Huh? What?”
In her dazed mind, she looked down at her opponent. Cardin gazed up with a bloodied face. His arms were twisted from blocking the punches, and blood flowed from his mouth.
With a head intoxicated by hormones, she reflected on the scene.
Oh.
He is alive.
Pastel staggered to her feet, collected the magical sword from the ground, and lifted it in reverse grip.
“You don’t have to kill him forcibly.”
“Huh? Why?”
Pastel tilted her head in a dazed manner as she prepared to plunge the blade down.
“Ugh!”
Cardin quickly rolled and embedded himself in the ground.
Oh?
She missed.
“There was no killing intent. It seems your intention was not life and death, but rather a contest. Even if you had lost, I would have spared you. Of course, using your strength to cut her shoulder crossed the line.”
The demon hesitated, as if observing Pastel’s slightly torn clothing and lightly cut shoulder.
“Hmm, I see. Just kill him. He’s a deserving one.”
Ah-ha.
Pastel pulled the sword from the ground. She stepped on Cardin and raised the sword. His eyes, filled with fear, looked up.
Hello.
She aimed properly to plunge down.
Preston appeared in front. Preston, who was carrying a gun and rushed over, stared blankly.
They locked eyes for a moment. Preston slowly averted his gaze.
“Ha, you should continue with what you were doing.”
His voice trembled.
Pastel inhaled.
Wow, it’s the boss.
It’s really the boss.
She cheered.
“Boss! Boss! I’m here! I brought the smuggled goods! It’s no commission, right?”
Oh yeah, 0% commission.
Pastel was a rich kid now.
Rich.
#
A while later, Pastel, who treated her light shoulder wound, was bewildered.
“You only wanted a contest?”
Cardin, whose face was swollen and wrapped in bandages on both arms, started to explain.
His lips were all bruised, making his speech slurred, but she could understand what he was saying.
A hostile minor organization had forcibly pooled money and connections to hire Cardin. It was a request he couldn’t refuse, but after hearing about the girl who had massacred thirty people, he accepted.
Since it was indeed a forcible hiring, Cardin had all the say on what to do next.
So he peacefully visited Preston’s organization and then waited for Pastel.
“I was curious about your skills. I didn’t think about killing the young talent. I just wanted to provoke you to see your strength.”
No.
Pastel’s bewilderment returned.
“A peaceful visit? A person died; how is that peaceful?”
Cardin flinched and stopped speaking.
Silence followed.
Preston, who had been quietly listening, looked flustered.
“Isn’t that a peaceful occurrence…?”
“Huh?”
“Though I did kill a few of your organization members through my use of force, I didn’t commit unnecessary killings. Of course, after engaging with you, the behavior could quickly change, making it very risky, but it was peaceful for now.”
What is this nonsense?
It completely doesn’t make sense.
“Isn’t that use of force unnecessary? People died! If you wanted a contest, you could simply ask politely! Don’t you know how to do that? Politely and peacefully!”
The stares of those around turned to the naive girl who spoke such natural words.
No.
“Think about it, young Craft. Where is this place?”
A zero percent commission dealer?
“This is a criminal organization. A filthy criminal organization. How can you visit a criminal organization peacefully?”
But these people are all so nice.
“A show of force is almost essential when visiting a criminal organization. Otherwise, they’d smile and shoot at you. You have to let them experience the risk ahead of time to be safe.”
Ugh?
Cold, hard reality?
Preston calmly spoke to Cardin.
“Since you lost anyway, why don’t you join us? We’ll take care of the contract while you’re recovering.”
Cardin responded casually.
“I don’t need money. I just want to keep an eye on your boss’s future.”
“No, it’s my organization.”
“The boss always says that.”
“No.”
Seeing the farcical banter, Pastel was utterly baffled.
Am I the only odd one here?
She abruptly stood up from the sofa. The gazes all turned towards her.
“Enough! I’ll go pay my respects to the deceased! People I met last time died; I can’t just sit here!”
With that, Pastel flailed her arms.
“You cold-blooded bastards! Owners of cold blood! Cold! Cold! Oh, so cold!”
Preston calmly corrected her.
“Oh, the one who died was a newcomer, so you don’t know them. Considering the grieving families, it might be better if you don’t go.”
Pastel was at a loss for words. She hesitated about whether to go pay her respects and finally shouted in frustration.
“Regardless!”
She dashed out of the room.
What a totally strange world this is.
Am I Alice who fell down the rabbit hole?
This place is a bizarre kingdom.
“Are you going to pay your respects?”
Pastel pondered for a moment.
“No. As the boss said, it seems better not to bother the grieving families. Personally, I’ll pray for their peace.”
“You made a good choice.”
The demon smiled faintly.
“Don’t think of them as too strange. They have just adapted to this harsh world. They lived such a tough life that they couldn’t agonize over each death.”
She nodded vaguely.
“If you find it difficult to empathize, try putting yourself in their shoes. Don’t you engage in smuggling to survive? While saying it’s a benevolent and righteous act. It’s not so different.”
“Huh?”
Pastel’s eyes widened.
“Devil! Devil! Smuggling is a righteous act, isn’t it? It’s about sending necessary items to those in dire need!”
The devil is truly amazing.
“What’s strange about it! Sending necessary items to those in dire need is wrong?! You are mistaken, devil! When the professor comes, I’ll discuss it again! We’ll see who’s right!”
She stuck out her tongue.
Blee.
The devil was left speechless.
“No…”
