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A Weakling Who Died a Million Times - Chapter 10.1
🕑 Added 2024-11-29 15:08:41 +0000 UTCYear 141_Keireki Era_Spring/08
Yo.
Here I am, tackling my first job.
The road is pretty standard.
A large enough path for big carriages to pass each other, with sparse trees growing on both sides.
They're not aligned like roadside trees, so I guess they just grew naturally.
Perfect for hiding.
I can see them from here, but they can't see me. This balance is just right.
Feels less like a bandit and more like a scout's job. I'm even getting a bit hyped.
I can spot some former colleagues blocking the road.
Every single one of them looks sketchy as hell.
Their rough appearances reflect their level of experience as bandits.
You can’t tell the difference? Well, fair point... Most of them are just dirty old guys anyway.
There are three bandits.
There's no cover around, so that's likely all of them.
Alright, I've confirmed the situation. Time to head back! Field trip's over!
… Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen.
One of the bandits is grabbing a merchant by the neck and flashing a knife.
The merchant looks to be about 140 cm tall or less.
Man, whoever came up with units like centimeters and grams was a genius.
It’s great not having to explain with vague terms like “about this much” or “kinda like that.”
The merchant’s carrying a large load.
It's almost twice their height. Pretty impressive.
Not that I should be admiring them right now.
"Just leave the goods and scram."
"N-No! This is very important!"
"Huh?"
"Ugh…"
The merchant looks like a kid, barely old enough to be out here. From here, I can’t tell if they’re a boy or girl.
Hey, Iserina! Reporting in!
Three bandits!
One victim! Either a boy or a girl!
And I came back after looking the other way!
… Man. Is that the kind of report I’m supposed to give?
But still.
Getting involved here and dying is just... not it.
"So, it's important, huh? Got some kind of story behind it?"
While I’m agonizing over what to do, the bandits keep talking.
The merchant doesn’t seem keen to talk, but when one of the bandits flashes their knife again, they reluctantly explain.
"The apothecary in Luluciette needs the ingredients for this medicine. Apparently, there’s some strange poison spreading in the city, and they’re running out of the medicine to treat it."
The bandits grin maliciously.
"Well, well… Poison, huh? Nasty stuff. Speaking of poison, my knife here is coated with some too. Not the same as the stuff going around town, though. This is paralytic poison—get stabbed, and moving’s gonna be real tough."
Poison is tricky business.
For regular folks, it’s bad enough, but adventurers tend to have some resistance to poisons and physiological effects.
Even as a bandit, I can handle mildly spoiled food without issue.
For someone like Gadvar, all muscle and brute strength, poison on a blade probably wouldn’t mean much.
But the merchant?
If they had the resilience to withstand poison, they wouldn’t have been cornered like this in the first place.
Whether someone fears poison or not can be a sort of barometer for their capability.
"Cleaning up corpses is such a pain—what with the rotting and all. So, how about you just leave the goods and take a hike?"
"N-No…!"
The merchant clings to their load, refusing to let it go.
The bandit clicks his tongue, and in the same instant, plunges the knife into the merchant’s stomach.
"Ah… ggh…"
I didn’t even have time to make a decision.
The move was that sudden.
The merchant collapses without so much as a scream.
"We’ll have some 'fun' while the poison’s working. They’ll probably die before it wears off, though."
Geh-heh, gah-ha. Disgusting laughter echoes.
Damn it.
Damn it all.
My hesitation got them stabbed.
If this was gonna happen, I should’ve just run off and reported it sooner.
Or acted before they could get stabbed.
The merchant’s load is being stripped away, and now they’re being hoisted like cargo.
My fingers brush against the chakram at my waist.
… Wasn’t this what Nichirin gave this to me for?
For situations like this?
If it’s a minor scuffle, I can just throw rocks.
But in a case like this, this is exactly when I should be using this weapon.
I’m disgusted by my own indecision.
I can throw my life away in a heartbeat, but when it comes to others, I falter?
What a hypocrite.
I grip the chakram between my fingers.
I don’t know the proper way to hold it, but hitting the target is all that matters. With the skills of "slinging," it’ll do.
I snap my wrist to hurl it with momentum.
It whistles through the air, speeding toward the distant bandit—and accelerates far beyond the initial throw.
Before I can even comprehend the mechanism, the chakram cleaves the bandit reaching for the merchant clean in half.
Not just them—the one behind them, grabbing at the goods, got also split in two at the waist.
"What the…?!"
The last bandit was struck dumb by the sudden, gruesome scene.
The chakram, after cutting through two lives, disassembled in midair, its work seemingly done.
Nichirin, what the hell did you give me?
No. There’s no time to panic.
I grab a handful of stones and charge at the remaining bandit.
Closing the distance…
"Hiieh! I-It was you, wasn’t it?!"
He stumbled back before turning to flee at full speed.
If he’d dodged or zigzagged, maybe he’d stand a chance. But turning his back? That’s asking to get hit.
"Take this!"
With a yell, I hurl a stone.
It flies true, crushing the bandit’s skull.
Victory is mine.
… No. This isn’t a win.
I let the merchant get hurt.
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