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A Weakling Who Died a Million Times - Chapter 6.1
🕑 Added 2024-11-19 08:21:35 +0000 UTCYear 135_Keireki Era_Winter/04
Yo.
It’s me, your friendly neighborhood bandit.
This time, I find myself in a pretty rare situation.
Why? Because I didn’t wake up in a roadside camp or some cave this time.
Turns out, I was at a bandit market.
And no, it’s not a flea market or some fresh-produce morning fair.
This is a full-blown black market.
If you’ve ever wondered why bandits need so much money, here’s your answer.
Most bandits dabble in shady activities to stock up on supplies at these irregularly held markets scattered around the land.
The host of this particular market was a merchant from a place called Meibara, west of the small northwestern city of Imyuz.
His name? Something like "the Golden-Haired Somebody."
Apparently, the previous owner of this body didn’t bother remembering names from far-off places, so I don’t have much to go on either.
Most merchants in cities wouldn’t dare associate with bandits—doing so would lead to immediate and severe punishment.
But Meibara must be different.
Or perhaps the rules are just as strict, and that’s why this merchant traveled so far to set up shop.
The market was held at an abandoned fortress, a relic of the past. Its large scale allowed for a bustling event.
The crowd was huge, and there were plenty of vendors selling all sorts of goods. Just wandering around was entertaining.
“Hey there, boss! How about a bow used by the Eastern Great Wall? With this, you can hit a pea-sized target from afar!”
Hitting the target is another story entirely.
Besides, it’s a huge war bow—can anyone even draw it?
They probably stole it but couldn’t use it, so here it is on the market. Classic bandit logic.
“Take a look! A beastkin from the south! She’s got wolf blood running through her veins!
And just for today, I’ll give you a discount on the slave mark!”
Inside the cage, a wolf-eared girl sat limply, head bowed in defeat.
Forget the wolf blood—could she even fight in this state?
By the way, a "slave mark" is a curse that binds someone into absolute servitude.
Originally, it was a type of prayer spell used for intense self-discipline, like forcing oneself to pray for days or fast.
Some nasty villain twisted it into a spell that targets others instead of oneself, turning it into the backbone of "businesses" like this.
Nowadays, it’s classified under "Forbidden Arts" instead of prayers.
“Mercenaries for hire! Freshly dismissed knights from Imyuz’s regiment—don’t miss this chance!”
The price? Enough for a mid-sized bandit group to live comfortably for two years.
If someone’s hiring knights, they’re planning something big.
I’ve heard rumors of "royal bandits," a group so feared that even a certain count’s household steers clear of them.
Maybe those kinds of people hire knights.
As I wandered around with the Boss, we took in the sights.
“Not here.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
The boss and his assistant exchanged curt words while searching for something.
I was tagging along as their guard. There was one more guard with us, a rookie who looked scared out of his mind.
Probably someone they picked up recently from a rural village.
“What are you looking for?”
“Mounts. Horses or dogs, either will do.”
Mounts—animals for riding. The common ones are horses, bird-like walkers, lizards, and dogs.
When I say "dogs," I mean massive ones, closer in size to a horse.
They’re fast and maneuverable, but the ride is notoriously bumpy.
“Mounts? Can either of you actually ride one?”
Handling mounts takes skill and experience. Honestly, I doubted these two had what it takes.
“Idiot! We’re not the ones who’ll be using them. It’s for the people we’re planning to hire. They won’t work without mounts.”
That was news to me.
But I guess there’s no reason to share these details with a low-ranking bandit like me.
Our group has about 20 members, give or take.
Business seems to be going well, given that they can afford to hire people.
I’m curious—who exactly are they planning to bring on board?
“Hiring people? We’ve got plenty of numbers already,” I said, playing dumb.
When dealing with bandits, pretending to be a fool makes communication much smoother.
“Idiot! Did you forget what our goal is—”
“Boss, I found a vendor selling mounts!” the assistant called out, interrupting.
Guess I missed my chance to find out. Too bad.
Next: https://www.patreon.com/posts/116292021
