Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Boar (1)

"Must be my lucky day! Good things just keep piling up!"

Someone in the gathered crowd of bandits spoke up, sounding genuinely amazed.

Anagin felt much the same.

Then again, what were the odds of running into a familiar face in a bandit den?

"Let go of me!! I said let go!!" "......!"

The familiar faces were none other than the Old Man's grandson and granddaughter—the very old man Anagin had first met right after his Master sent him flying out of the village...

The old man had gladly given a stranger like Anagin a ride on his carriage. His shy granddaughter had handed Anagin a towel. Her energetic little brother had trailed along, pestering him with one question after another.

But the two of them now looked nothing like they had back then.

'Been about two weeks...?'

For one thing, the old man was nowhere to be seen. And the children, who had been clean despite living on the road, were now completely filthy.

The bandits had them bound with rope, dragging them along like dogs.

Even as they were hauled away, the grandson kept shouting defiantly, and his older sister, the granddaughter, held him tight, shielding him—as though bracing for the disaster yet to come.

The bandits of the camp swarmed around the children, snickering.

"Hid like a rat and still got caught in the end. Hey, how long did they last? A week? Hand over the money!"

"Hold on, let me do the math. How long were they on the run?"

"Where'd they get caught?"

"Crossroads Village. They went there asking for help. Just their bad luck. That village cooperates with us—of all places to go."

"Damn...! Still, that was close. A little farther and they'd have hit the city. Might've actually slipped away, huh?"

"Who cares. Doesn't matter now."

Anagin couldn't piece together the full story, but the grandson and granddaughter seemed to be something of celebrities around here.

He slung an arm around the rookie bandit beside him and asked for the details.

"What are those two? Why were they brought here?"

"Huh? Oh, didn't you hear? Some fool of an old man picked a fight with us. These are his kids."

The rookie bandit grinned and filled him in, clearly pleased by the arm around his shoulder.

It seemed that while they were going village to village demanding cooperation—like they'd done at Pond Village—one village refused, and during the retaliation, the old man had stepped in.

It wasn't a hard guess to make. But still...

"Why, though?"

Anagin muttered it aloud without thinking—too curious to help himself.

He'd only spent a day with the old man, but he'd gotten a rough sense of the type of person he was.

Kind and decent, yes—but not the sort to go out of his way looking for danger. Not with grandchildren he treasured.

The man had taught Anagin how to handle Gi and then told him to stay away from the children. That alone told him plenty.

And a man like that had helped a village? Risked his life for it? It didn't add up.

The confusion must have shown on his face, because the rookie bandit picked up on it immediately. He called over a fellow bandit nearby.

"Bro! Hey, bro!"

"Hm? What?"

"You said you saw that old man yourself, right?"

"Yeah. I saw him. Went out with Boss."

"Can you explain it in detail?"

The rookie bandit gestured at Anagin, still hanging off his shoulder.

Caught off guard by the sudden request, the bandit nonetheless told his story.

"What's there to tell? He wouldn't listen to reason, so I was giving him a little lesson, and then the old man pops up out of nowhere and blocks us. Said he was staying there or something?"

"What kind of lesson, specifically?"

Anagin cut in to ask.

Maybe it was how intently he was digging for details, because the bandit narrowed his eyes at him.

Anagin pleaded.

"I'm the type who can't rest until I know everything once something gets its hooks in me. Please, I'm asking."

At the unexpectedly polite tone, even Sphinx looked taken aback—not to mention the rookie bandit.

Her expression clearly said something like, 'So he can talk like that...!'

The bandit seemed not to mind being asked. He smiled faintly. A bigshot guest brought in by the boss himself—who wouldn't feel good about that?

"Hmm... It was nothing special. Snapped the village chief's neck when he mouthed off, killed a few village men who came at us, rounded up some women... Ah! The brats were bawling so loud I was about to shut them up when the old man showed up."

The bandit snickered as if just remembering. Like it was the stupidest thing he'd ever seen.

He kept explaining.

"Idiot. Total idiot... But a hell of an idiot, I'll give him that."

"Why's that, bro?"

"He held his own against Boss and then ran. After getting the villagers evacuated."

"For real? I figured he got taken down in one hit."

The rookie bandit looked shocked—he hadn't known that part.

"Yeah. For an old bastard, he had some serious strength. But in the end, Boss chased him down and caught him."

So the coachman old man was most likely dead. He'd expected as much, but...

"We rounded up the other villagers too. That's when we found out. The old man had a grandson and granddaughter. Boss was pissed—put a bounty on them. And here we are."

The bandit pointed at the old man's grandchildren being dragged by rope toward the center of the camp.

When they reached the center, the children were forcibly separated and tied to separate stakes.

"Boss! We've brought them!"

Someone shouted a report toward the largest hut in the camp, and the heavy door swung open to reveal Paia.

He lumbered over on thick legs, came to a stop in front of the children, and bent down to look them over.

"So you're that damned old codger's grandkids?"

"......"

Still just children—the grandson, who'd been so mouthy before, scrunched up his face in resentment but couldn't bring himself to answer, too frightened. The granddaughter was much the same.

"Bahahah! Look at the eyes on these brats! Spitting image of the old bastard! The one who kicked me square in the face!!"

Apparently he'd been kicked in the face. It must have been quite the humiliation.

'Holds a grudge, this one.'

Paia straightened up and bellowed.

"Right! Everyone, give me your opinions! What should we do with these brats? The best idea gets a reward!"

"What's there to think about? Beat the boy till he begs for forgiveness. Sell the girl off somewhere."

"No, you idiot! This one needs an example! An example!!"

'An example?'

Anagin didn't understand. Paia explained soon enough.

"When that damned old codger evacuated the villagers and ran off, word got around, didn't it? That a hero had appeared to stand against us! Did you all eat crow meat or something!?"

"I-I remember..."

"But listen up, you bastards!"

Paia roared. He clearly didn't like how that rumor had spread.

"Because of that, the nearby villages got restless and we wasted time for nothing!"

"It's fine now, though—I thought it had blown over."

"It was fine until now, but not anymore! We're going to build a nation here in Anapic! That means we need to be more thorough, more ruthless!!"

Several bandits nodded in agreement.

"More than anything, I won't tolerate anyone laying a hand on us! Everything on the roads outside the cities belongs to us! Am I right or am I right?!"

"You're right! It belongs to the Forest Brotherhood!"

"Damn right! We're the owners! And someone laid hands on us? That means someone tried to take what's ours! We need an example! A clear example that this is what happens when you defy us! ...Now do you understand?"

Between the pressure radiating from Paia's massive frame, his booming voice, and his twisted brand of logic, the bandits of the camp had no more objections.

Everyone was convinced.

After that, the bandits debated how to kill the grandson and granddaughter to make the best example.

Hang them from a tree, starve them to death, gouge out their eyes, skin them alive—a flood of horrifying suggestions poured out.

The old man's grandchildren heard every word, and slowly, they began to tremble.

As the mood swelled, Anagin raised his hand.

"Why not just let them go?"

The air went cold at those shameless words cutting against the current, and every eye turned on him at once.

Under those arrow-like stares, the rookie bandit draped over his shoulder froze up awkwardly, and Sphinx vanished like a gust of wind.

Anagin paid it no mind and kept talking.

"Can't we just let them go?"

"Why do you ask?"

Paia didn't raise his voice—he calmly asked for a reason.

Anagin pushed through the crowd with the rookie bandit still hanging off his shoulder and stepped forward.

"Oh...?"

As he came forward, the grandson and granddaughter tied to the stakes spotted him. A faint light returned to their eyes, muddied by terror just moments before.

"We know each other. Me and those two."

Anagin stood before Paia and told him honestly why he wanted them freed.

Paia turned his head to check the children's reaction.

"You're right. How do you know them?"

"It's a long story, but I owe them."

"The old codger?"

"Yeah. He gave me a ride on his carriage, and that one gave me a towel. That one... pestered me with questions."

"So you want them freed?"

"That's right."

Anagin nodded firmly at Paia's needling.

The mood around them grew increasingly hostile.

Some guest had barged in and stuck his nose into their business, after all...

But Paia didn't fly off the handle.

Aggressive and cruel like a bandit, yes—but cold and level-headed like a boss.

"I'm asking out of genuine curiosity... Does that sound like a request that could be granted?"

"Depends on who's asking."

"Oho...! Confidence not just brimming but overflowing, huh?"

"Didn't you say your higher-ups wanted to recruit me?"

Paia stepped closer and jabbed a thick finger into Anagin's chest.

"No. Peripetes isn't above me. I answer to exactly one person."

It had nothing to do with the conversation at hand, but Anagin found himself curious about who that one person was.

Paia. He looked like a man with a mountain of pride. If someone like him acknowledged another so readily, that person had to be something else.

He was tempted to ask, but decided to focus on the situation at hand.

"Fine, I'll apologize. Sorry. I misspoke. Forgive me."

Anagin apologized without hesitation.

The apology came so easily that Paia looked startled and pulled his hand back.

"Did you just... apologize?"

"Why's that strange?"

"Of course it is. I figured you for the type who'd rather die."

"Why do you see me that way?"

Anagin feigned hurt. He prided himself on being an eminently sensible, normal person—raised on the Village Chief's teachings just like the other kids. When an apology was called for, he could apologize as many times as needed.

But Paia seemed to read something else into it.

"Those brats... They must mean a lot to you?"

"Not that much. We're just acquaintances."

"And you'd still do this?"

"It bugs me when someone I know dies."

It was such a reasonable thing to say that Paia didn't argue.

But not arguing didn't mean he'd go along with it.

"I can't grant that request."

"Even if I'm favorably inclined toward your recruitment offer?"

"That's one thing. This is another."

Paia warned him with a murderous glare, as if to say don't joke around.

"If we don't make a proper example here, that old codger dies a hero. And his family gets to watch him die a loser who couldn't even read the room. This is about our organization's standing."

"Speaking of which—where's the old man's body? Here?"

"Don't change the subject."

Paia scowled and dodged the question.

"......"

The body clearly wasn't here, and he clearly didn't want to say where.

Anagin took a moment to organize his thoughts, then nodded.

"All right, I understand. The old man who defied you just can't be allowed to die a hero. That's what you're saying?"

"...That's right."

Once he had his answer, Anagin unwound his arm from the rookie bandit and walked past Paia, over to the grandchildren behind him.

Then he crouched down and met the granddaughter's eyes. She was the older one, after all.

"...Just say one thing for me."

"......?"

"Your grandfather was a senseless, brainless idiot."

Shock and betrayal churned in the granddaughter's eyes. The grandson was no different.

"As you can see, I'm not in a position to help you. I've got something to collect from that side."

Anagin jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Paia.

He still hadn't properly heard about the self-chosen ascetic path.

"I can't actively help you, and I don't like the idea of just letting you die. So let's settle it by you cursing your grandfather. Call him a brainless fool who stuck his nose in where it didn't belong and got himself killed."

Paia laughed, amused by something or other, and in stark contrast, the granddaughter's expression grew harder and harder to describe.

"If the grandkids disown the grandfather, there's no reason to hurt you two on top of it. Right?"

"Well..."

"You heard him. So let's all take the easy road—"

—Ptui!

The granddaughter spat in Anagin's face.

Anagin didn't dodge. He took it.

"...Our grandfather... is a hero."

"And now you're about to die."

"......"

When Anagin laid out the undeniable truth, the granddaughter trembled and said nothing.

But her eyes still burned with strength. Contempt and loathing for Anagin, too.

At the sight, Anagin spoke quietly.

"You two are better than me."

"...?"

Paia walked up to Anagin.

"You've had your fun. Time to step aside."

"Yeah. Time to stop playing around. With you."

"Yeah, yeah. With me... What?"

The moment Paia asked, Anagin—still crouched—sprang up off his coiled legs and kicked Paia square in the gut.

"I said it's time to stop playing around with you."