Chapter 313 - Inheritance (2)

Her body froze as though she had come face-to-face with a natural predator. Her heart pounded as if something inside it had broken.

Despite thinking every day that she wanted to die, her body still craved life. Perhaps reading her feelings, Lee Baekho smiled even more broadly.

“You know Bjorn Jandel is a Player, right?”

“I don't, nyah. What on earth are you talking—”

Misha denied it the instant she heard him, but Lee Baekho did not even let her finish.

“Oh, so you did know!”

His tone did not sound as though he was merely fishing for a reaction.

“...”

Misha looked into his eyes, trying to read the intention behind his words.

Then... she flinched and instinctively held her breath.

The eyes fixed on her were so empty that she could not fathom their depths or what lay hidden within. It felt as though every thought in her heart was being seen through.

Watching Misha tremble, unable to speak, he opened his mouth.

“Bjorn Jandel. How did he die?”

His voice was flat, as though he wanted only to establish the facts. Yet Misha sensed an inexplicable anger beneath it.

She could not understand why. Had the two of them been close? No, that still made no sense. Why would he direct his anger at her—

“Word around the city is that he died buying time for you all to escape...”

At that moment, the air grew heavy.

“You didn't kill him yourselves, did you?”

An oppressive presence bore down on her, making it difficult to breathe. At the same time, the anger in Lee Baekho's voice became unmistakable.

“I mean, you knew he was an evil spirit. Didn't you just stab him in the back and pocket his fortune? I hear he even named you all in his will. That's more than enough reason to kill him, isn't it?”

“That's absurd—”

“Why is it absurd? You people don't even see us as human.”

His tone was cynical, almost mocking. Hearing it, Misha realized that he had experienced something similar himself.

Was that why?

It felt as though a blade were tearing through her heart. Not simply because she feared the man...

Had Bjorn ever looked at her and thought the same thing? Had he secretly worried and suffered, afraid they would look at him with disgust if his true identity came to light?

Was that why some part of him had always kept his distance?

And... what had gone through his mind in those final moments, all alone?

Just imagining it made her lungs constrict. Even he must have been anxious and afraid. That must have been why he had left no message in his will.

He had always smiled in front of them, but behind that smile there must have been a piercing loneliness.

But...

“Answer me. Did you do it?”

One thing was certain. Despite everything, he had cherished them more than anyone else.

And so Misha met his eyes squarely and said,

“There's... no way we would, nyah...”

Though she knew that no matter what she said to this man, her voice could never reach Bjorn, she answered.

“Not see him as human...? Bjorn...? How could... anyone do that...?”

At the very least, she could not. And she regretted it.

She should have told him so sooner. Then Bjorn would not have had to feel anxious around them.

“...”

Misha closed her eyes. She no longer even feared this unknown man. She simply kept her eyes shut and endured the emotions washing over her like the waves of the Great Ocean.

That was when he spoke.

“... He had good companions,” Lee Baekho said. “Unlike me.”

In contrast to his earlier, tyrannical demeanor, there was something sorrowful in his voice.

Misha opened her eyes again. At some point, the pressure that had squeezed her so tightly her skin tingled had vanished without a trace.

“You said your name was Misha Karlstein, right?”

“Y-yes...?”

When she answered, bewildered by the drastic change in his attitude, Lee Baekho continued with a smile.

“What would you do if I told you there was a way to bring Bjorn Jandel back to life?”

As he spoke, his eyes curved into long crescents.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since I joined Felik Barker's clan.

And now... a campfire crackled before me as I sat in the second floor's Stone Desert. Behind me, four men and women bustled about setting up camp.

Oh, for the record, I had ordered them to do it. Leaving all the work to a single beater as usual just because they couldn't be bothered would take forever, wouldn't it?

“Ugh, why do we have to do this crap...?”

“Keep it down. He'll hear you.”

I already did, dumbass.

I chuckled as I watched the four preparing camp. Then my eyes met those of the big guy with the muscles for show.

He was the first guy I had fought in a bloody promotion match... no, a challenge, as they called it here, to prove my strength when joining Felik Barker's clan.

By surface standards, he was a rank-6 explorer. In our no-skills fight, I had smashed half his head open in three seconds, and a potion had only barely saved his life.

Anyway, what was his name again...?

“Dumbo.”

“... It's Derbon, not Dumbo.”

Oh, right.

Sure, I'd made a mistake, but his deadly serious reaction was a little irritating. Derbon was obviously an alias anyway.

He had no idea what really mattered.

“Still haven't learned your lesson, huh?”

I sprang to my feet and headed over to Dumbo. He began to tremble, apparently remembering the beating he had taken before.

Why act so tough if just having me stand in front of him did this to him?

“Dumbo.”

I placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly, putting the full weight of my title as leader of Barker Clan's Third Team behind my words.

“Does your team leader look like a joke to you?”

Tightening my grip, I continued.

“Your name is Dumbo now. It's easier to pronounce. Understood?”

“...”

“Answer.”

“... Suit yourself.”

Tsk. Should've done that in the first place.

I gave Dumbo an encouraging pat on the shoulder for agreeing to my name-change request, then sent him back to finish setting up camp.

Then I returned to the campfire and chewed on some jerky.

After fighting three challenges on my first day, I had been appointed leader of one of the clan's mere three teams that very day, with the clan leader's approval.

And, as befitted a faction of real men, a team leader's power in Noark was absolute. Especially inside the Labyrinth.

'Whew. So this is what power tastes like?'

While I lounged around doing nothing as everyone else worked, a scrawny guy came over to tell me camp was ready.

“Please get some sleep. We'll take care of the night watch...”

The scrawny guy's name was...

'What was it again?'

Anyway, he was our team's Scout. He wasn't a Guide, and his navigation was slightly worse than Rotmiller's. But perhaps because he had spent so long as a plunderer, he knew all the best spots for ambushes.

“I'm not sleepy yet. I'll turn in a little later. That kid has first watch, right? I'll leave her to it when I get tired, so the rest of you go to sleep.”

“Ah, yes...”

Once I gave them permission to sleep, the scrawny guy passed the news on to his friends and crawled into his sleeping bag.

Then...

“May I sit down?”

“Of course.”

A red-haired girl sat in the chair opposite me. Despite an air of maturity beyond her years, our team's beater still had a youthful face.

She was Amelia's older sister.

“What was your name again?”

“Laura Reinweils.”

She answered in a businesslike manner, wary of me, her newly appointed team leader.

It felt rather strange.

'They look alike, but how can they give off such different impressions?'

Their features were similar overall, but the older sister looked far gentler and more easygoing. That was despite my knowing she had slit a successful explorer's throat at twelve to save her sister, and despite the stiff way she was speaking to me now.

“Is something the matter?”

“No. I was just thinking you must have had a hard time too.”

“Ah...”

Laura's lips parted slightly. Apparently, she hadn't expected that from someone who had been giving his subordinates hell in the most macho fashion imaginable.

“Your little sister's a beater too, right?”

“Yes. She serves under Team Leader Martis.”

“Aren't you worried?”

“...”

Laura pressed her lips together and glanced at me, seemingly wondering what I was after with these questions.

But perhaps she decided ignoring her new team leader's question would be unwise.

“I'm not worried at all. I'm reassured knowing Team Leader Martis will take good care of my sister.”

Her answer was insincere.

Whew. Now I felt like some kind of informant.

“It's fine. Be honest. She's your sister, isn't she? Of course you'd worry.”

At my persistent questioning, Laura reluctantly revealed a little of what she really felt.

“I am worried, but I trust Team Leader Martis won't torment my sister out of malice or send her to her death.”

“Why?”

“... Because I'm worth that much to them.”

“Hmm? Explain. I'm this team's leader, after all. I ought to know what's going on.”

Laura seemed to deliberate briefly over whether to tell me, then spoke.

“I'm a beater, but after years of exploration, I've grown capable enough to pull my own weight.”

I already knew that. I'd heard she had absorbed four Essences, I think, though they were low-grade ones.

Yet Laura was still a beater. She was treated well within the team for one, but no matter how hard she worked to pull her weight, she couldn't claim her share when the loot was divided. Her position was little different from that of a slave to the clan.

“You gave up your share in exchange for asking them to look after your sister.”

“It's not as though I could keep any money I earned anyway. Actually, when my father tried to sell my sister off as a beater, I was the one who brought her here.”

“Why?”

“At least in this clan... she won't have to go through those things.”

“You're kind.”

Laura gave no answer, and silence settled between us. It wasn't particularly awkward.

I sat quietly gazing into the fire, sorting through my thoughts, and stood once I felt pleasantly drowsy.

“I'll go get some sleep, then.”

“Yes.”

“You've been on watch for about an hour now. Give it another hour, then switch with the next person.”

“What? But my shift isn't—”

“How are you going to fight tomorrow if you're exhausted from doing twice as much as everyone else? Didn't you say you could pull your own weight?”

“...”

“So hand over to the next person in an hour and get some sleep yourself. If they complain, tell them I ordered it.”

With that, I promptly lay down in my sleeping bag. Laura tried to say something, sounding troubled, but at my loud snoring, she sighed and fell silent.

'Laura Reinweils, huh...?'

Until I fell asleep, I kept thinking.

How could I save this woman?

* * *

After our first night camping in the second floor's Stone Desert, we hurried to resume our journey the next morning.

On the second day, we reached Pilgrim's Passage on the third floor, passed through Twilight Slope on the Stone Desert route, and continued toward the clan's rendezvous point.

The Thornreed Fields.

A hunting ground encompassing several areas west of the Witch's Forest at the center of the third floor.

When we arrived on the fourth day, every other team was already there.

“...”

After briefly exchanging a look of greeting with Amelia, I headed over to the clan leader.

“Any trouble on the way?”

“None. They're all quite capable.”

“Haha! They may not match you in combat, but they certainly pull their weight.”

Couldn't this bastard recognize empty pleasantries?

I chuckled and sat in the empty chair beside him.

“Now that we're all here, I'd like to get moving straightaway, but since some of you are here for the first time, I'll go over things once more.”

Clan Leader Felik Barker smoothly outlined the plan ahead. Not that there was much of a plan. We would use these reed fields as our base and split up into teams to plunder.

“Let me make this clear beforehand: if you encounter opponents who look even a little difficult, have your Scout contact another team. We'll drop everything and come help immediately.”

Having finished his briefing in no time, the clan leader asked if there were any questions. I promptly raised my hand.

“But isn't this method far too inefficient?”

“... Inefficient?”

The clan leader looked at me as though he had witnessed something bizarre. Apparently, hearing a barbarian talk about efficiency felt out of place...

A little unfair, really.

What race cared more about efficiency than barbarians?

“If you have a suggestion, let's hear it.”

The instant he gave permission, I spoke boldly.

“For starters, using beaters is the problem. Why do that?”

“As I told you before, simply having an accomplice planted inside gives us a considerable advantage when launching an ambush. It also saves combat consumables.”

“What are you talking about? That's not what I meant.”

“Huh?”

Then what do you mean?

That was the question in the clan leader's stare. So I explained calmly, as though instructing a foolish human.

“That way, we can only kill 'decent' explorers who let beaters join them. And most 'decent' explorers are poor.”

“... What exactly are you trying to say?”

“We hunt people who plunder, like us. Then we can take all the equipment they've looted too!”

A brief silence followed my earnest explanation of the plan.

Before long, laughter erupted.

“Hahahaha!”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Ah, sorry if I offended you. I've lived in Noark for over ten years, but I've never heard an idea like that before.”

“So what's your answer?”

“It sounds logical at first, but your suggestion leaves out the most important part. We're not divine enforcers. How are we supposed to tell who's a plunderer?”

Heh. I knew he'd say that.

I grinned and opened my mouth.

“Now, listen. I've got a way.”