[Year 150 of the Succession Calendar, Summer / 4]
Yo.
It’s me, the guy who poked his nose in and kicked the bucket.
The world tends to think that bandits live freely, but in reality, it’s quite the opposite. You can’t just wander off wherever you want, and the Boss’s orders are absolute. If you don’t follow them, your head gets cracked open. I think the ones at the polar opposite of that restriction are free travelers or adventurers.
I guess I have a longing for that freedom. In the memories that vanished during my “Loops,” was there some encounter or experience that made me want to be an adventurer?
I, the self-proclaimed “Mob who has died a million times,” resurrect like this even after I die.
However, there’s a limit to these resurrections.
If I die ten times, my memories are washed away.
I don’t know how far back I go. The reason I stubbornly say “Yo” is so I can roughly count my remaining lives based on that greeting.
If I say “Uh…” or “Ah…” like I’ve just woken up before saying “Yo,” it usually means it’s after a reset.
Right now, I’m probably on my fifth life.
Anyway, this time I’m… well, a bandit as usual. Not too young, not too old. No special skills. No noteworthy experience or memories.
My current location is a cavern, one of the classic bandit hideouts. The scale of the group is small.
It seems to be a group that survives by targeting merchants and travelers with poor defenses. In other words, a bunch of pathetic bandits.
“They look well-dressed, but how do we turn this into cash?”
“Don’t ask me. Our neighbors are a pretty big bandit group; should we negotiate with them?”
“They’ll just take it from us. Why not just have the person themselves bring the money?”
“Idiot, they’d obviously just run away.”
“True…”
I don’t remember the attack, so my body must have been on standby. From what I can gather, they managed to capture a traveler without killing them, but they have no idea how to ransom them.
That’s because these guys usually only attack peddlers or wagons with almost no guards.
They don’t know how to turn a human into money. And it seems these bandits aren’t crazy enough to butcher their captives for the dinner table.
“Still, it’s a problem if she dies… Hey, rookie! Go to the cell and check on the girl! If she’s flagging, splash some water on her!”
Rookie… Ah, that’s me.
“Sure thing.”
I gave a half-hearted reply and stood up sluggishly. Re-adjusting the wood-splitting axe—my favorite weapon, apparently—at my waist, I walked toward the back room with a slouching, bandit-like posture.
A perfect bandit performance. Even I’m impressed by myself.
✘✘✘
I headed toward the cell as ordered. Though it was a cavern, there were several “private rooms” made by adding handmade doors to small natural alcoves.
Whether these were made by the current bandits or previous residents (meaning other bandits), I didn’t have the physical memory. Inside the private room was a cage so flimsy it could hardly be called a “cell”—it looked like it would break with a bit of muscle.
Isn’t this more like a fence for animals than a cell? The question popped into my mind, but if the seniors called it a cell, then a cell it was.
When I entered, she lowered her head slightly, glanced at me once, and then looked down again.
Sitting huddled there was indeed a well-dressed young girl.
Her golden hair almost seemed to glow, illuminated by the wall-mounted torch.
I see, she’s certainly a beauty who would fetch a high price.
When someone is this beautiful, it actually makes you hesitate to lay a hand on them. That part feels very “pathetic bandit,” too.
I wonder what would happen to her if she were sold off to a more brutal group like the others were discussing.
“…”
She raised her gaze slightly and peeked at me. Surprisingly, the emotion in her eyes wasn’t hostility or fear. It was irritation—anxiety. But because she understood her current situation was helpless, she had no words.
Just before I entered, she had been looking up. I could guess her intent. She was looking for an escape route.
“I’m not gonna eat you”… probably wouldn’t go over well. I am, after all, part of the group that caught her to “eat” her (metaphorically).
But leaving her to become a feast for these beasts would leave a bad taste in my mouth.
“Hey, little lady, what’s wrong? You look pretty anxious. Well, I guess you would be. You’re on the edge of being devoured, after all.”
She hesitated, but then spoke.
“I am anxious. But it is not because I fear whether I will end up in a shady merchant’s shop or on a dinner table.”
Oh, she’s throwing me a good hook for a conversation. If she says that, I have to bite.
“Then, what are you so restless about?”
“That is…”
“Depending on what it is, I might help.”
If I’m going to do this, I should make it easy to expand the story. It’s not like I have infinite time.
She seemed more than a little surprised by my proposal, but she also sensed the reason for my directness—the time issue.
“I am Liese, the heir to the title of Count of Liselka.”
A Count-heir. That’s a big catch. Far too much for a ragtag bunch of bandits to handle.
“I have been spending my days in another territory to gain an education, but I heard that my father—the current Count—has fallen ill, and I hurried back.”
“And you had the bad luck of being caught by a bunch of pathetic bandits.”
Perhaps fearing that nodding to “pathetic bandits” would offend me, Lady Liese offered a vague smile.
“But was there a reason to hurry that much?”
She looked slightly at a loss for words, but it seemed she gambled on the truth being the fastest way. A gamble on whether I was a true villain or not.
“Do you know of the ‘Furnace’?”
The Furnace. The thing that makes a city a city. I’ve heard it acts as a substitute for various fuels or as a key to power special items, but I don’t know the details. They call it a furnace, but it doesn’t always look like one. Apparently, it can be a massive slab or an ancient tree. It’s probably just called a furnace because it “replaces fuel.”
But even if I have such rumors in my knowledge, I’m not an expert. Since my knowledge is just within the realm of rumors, it’s the same as being ignorant. So, I decided to be honest about what I thought.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.GITHUB.IO
“I know it’s something important for a city, but that’s about it.”
“Each city can decide what function it serves. It can be used to purify water or stabilize farmland—as you say, it is vital to the city. However, the Furnace of Liselka is a bit of a… difficult child.”
“It’s an object, right? You talk about it as if it has a will.”
“It’s not that we can communicate, but if a blood relative of the Count doesn’t offer a prayer to the Furnace occasionally, it gets ‘cranky.'”
“Gets cranky…”
Ah, so it malfunctions. Her mix of refined and casual slang made me a bit slow to understand.
“If the Furnace becomes like that, the city’s functions will be largely lost.”
“So you want to go back to offer the prayer, huh?”
She nodded.
“The government of Liselka is being handled by Selji-sama—my father’s longtime friend—as a proxy. He is also holding the ritual tool—the ring—necessary for the prayer. I must return to Liselka and meet Selji-sama.”
“But I’ve heard rumors that the public order in Liselka is heading south. Is it possible this Selji guy is up to something? If so, wouldn’t going back be risky?”
Sajet the shady merchant is a prime example.
The fact that someone like him is going in and out of a territory is proof that something is wrong.
“That is…”
She had a look of realization. From her expression, I could even feel a sense of resolve.
Haha. She’s already prepared herself to strike him down in the name of the Count-Heir if he’s doing wrong. She looks like a fragile, sheltered lady, but she’s got a fire burning inside her.
…This sounds interesting. She might be killed quickly even if she returns to the Count’s territory, but there’s definitely more romance in that than staying here and having her life snuffed out by bandits.
I searched my memories. This body’s knowledge of this hideout is thin. Just as the seniors said, I must be a newcomer.
Is there an escape route?
I looked around, and then, as if led by intuition,
I looked up. She looked at me with a question mark over her head.
There was a hollow opening in the ceiling.
“Wait here a bit.”
I checked outside the room. The seniors had started drinking in earnest. They were likely relaxed since they left the rookie on guard duty.
Closing the door, I used various protrusions as handholds and footholds to climb up the hollow. With a bit of effort, I made it to the top.
It was a small rift in the ground. Poking my head out, I could see the trade road nearby.
If she can make it that far, she should be safe.
Returning to the hole, I brought some rope up, tied it to a tree, and lowered it.
“Lady Liese, can you climb up?”
From below, a voice filled with a different kind of anxiety replied, “Y-Yes.” She was probably shocked that the escape was happening so smoothly.
She really wasn’t just a regular lady. She climbed up the lowered rope with surprising speed. She’s got guts. Maybe her will to protect her home is boosting her physical abilities, or maybe she’s just more athletic than she looks.
As she crawled out of the rift, she let out a small sigh. Was it joy at seeing the landscape she desired? Or was she thinking about the hard days ahead? I couldn’t tell.
“Look, that road should be the trade road. If you walk along it, adventurers and wagons should be passing by, so you won’t be attacked by bandits.
The real work starts now, so hang in there.”
“U-Um, what about you?”
“It’d be a problem if I showed too much motivation for a pathetic bandit group. I’m going back to buy time. If I tell them I fell asleep and you escaped, they might forgive me.”
Even if they’re pathetic, bandits are bandits. Neither I nor she believed such a sweet excuse would work.
There was still a chance they’d chase and catch her.
Since I’ve helped her this far, I have to see this “trouble” through to the end—or rather, to my end.
“Don’t worry about me; just do what you have to do. Lady Liese, I’m just a lowly bandit whose best effort was to find you an escape route. but you’re someone who can save many more people with my one life. Go and show me you can do it.”
If I keep talking, I might start wanting to survive. Lingering attachment is a scary thing.
“At least… at least tell me your name.”
That’s a problem. A name? …I usually die so easily that I try not to have a name.
It only leads to more attachment. But if I don’t give her one, it might leave her with a lingering regret.
A name… nothing comes to mind immediately. I remembered a word I saw when I was looking for the rope, so I’ll just go with that.
“Gram. Just a petty mob you can find anywhere.”
“Lord Gram. You are my hero. …Please, stay alive. Let me thank you properly someday.”
Liese gave a noble’s bow.
“Man, you’re killing me,”
I said, scratching my head. “Just be a good Count. The kind who can wipe out bandits and shady merchants.”
With that, I went back down the rope the way I came.
After a moment, I heard the sound of someone treading through the brush. She was safe.
What happened to me after that? I don’t think I even need to say it, but I got the living daylights beaten out of me and then I was killed. Of course.
But I should have bought enough time for Lady Liese to escape. This is enough. My life this time around had a little bit of meaning, I guess.
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