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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Don't Touch What Isn't Yours
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Thud! Thud!
From early morning, someone was pounding on the cabin door like they were trying to break it down.
"Hey! Son-in-law!"
The one hammering on the door since dawn was the village chief, my former father-in-law. When I opened the door, he glared up at me with a face red as a beet.
"What brings you here, Village Chief?"
"What the hell happened yesterday? They say you said some unforgivable things to my daughter—is that true?"
"Yes."
"You bastard!"
There was no need or reason to lie. As soon as I answered honestly, the village chief bellowed and grabbed my collar. But with our height and size difference, he looked ridiculous, like a cicada clinging to a dead tree trunk.
I casually brushed his hand away, narrowing my eyes as I looked down at him. He sensed something off in my cold gaze and stumbled back a few steps.
"Father-in-law... no, I won't call you that anymore. Our connection ends here. And you should keep a better eye on your daughter. I saw her cheating yesterday—you ought to be grateful I didn't beat that bitch to death."
"Cheating? No way! What are you saying my daughter did?!"
"She was all cozy with one of the caravan's escort soldiers. Talking about breaking up and whatever. And everyone in the village acted like it was no big deal, so you must have known about it too..."
The village chief looked like he had nothing to say. Just as I described, if he hadn't turned a blind eye, those two couldn't have carried on like that in the village. If he had even a shred of conscience, he wouldn't dare argue.
"So what now? You planning to leave the village? I'll chew her out, so make up nicely. I'll even pay you extra for the meat from now on..."
How could someone be so shameless? He probably thought of me as a caught fish that wouldn't slip away. People hate leaving a settled spot, after all. But I had no lingering attachment to this village. Not a single soul had warned me despite knowing about her blatant affair—they were all dogs.
"I'm leaving. Already packed."
"What? Where could be better than a village like this? Hey, son-in-law!"
"I told you not to call me that."
True to his lineage of village chiefs, he was fairly burly. Considering the average height for sturdy adult men here was 169 cm, his late 170s made him tall. But even he couldn't meet my eyes properly.
His only leverage over me had been that father-in-law title. Now that even that flimsy position was gone, he couldn't face me squarely anymore.
"Look, Kyle... I'll pay extra for your meat, and I won't say a word if you split with my daughter. Can't you just stay? It'd be a hassle to uproot yourself after settling in, right?"
I ignored him and pulled out the money I'd stashed in a secret spot under the floorboards. Extra pay for meat? Pocket change.
"I've already decided to go, so don't grovel like that, Village Chief. Or do you want to try stopping me by force?"
As I said that and picked up my bow, he frantically waved his hands.
"How could I? What makes you think I could stop you? I... I just meant rethink it..."
"...Whatever. Take this bow and spear. You gave them to me when I first settled here, so I'm returning them. Thanks for the good times~."
It stung handing over my longtime companions, the bow and javelins, but they were his gifts from when I first arrived. Better to return them and erase the dirty memories.
The village chief didn't follow me as I left the cabin—not even until it was out of sight. He must have had some minimal conscience. Or maybe he feared I'd change my mind and come back for revenge.
Either way, wrapping everything up and hitting the road felt incredibly refreshing. After years building a cabin in the empty woods and hunting, I'd felt like I was suffocating.
"People really do belong in cities. But what now?"
I didn't have any grand plans, but I was done with the forest. Time to head to the city, maybe sign on as a mercenary or whatever. I wasn't some wild man—I had no intention of dying in the woods.
But after years of nothing, actually doing something left me blank. I was just leaving out of sheer disgust—what goal did I even have?
Then yesterday's memory flashed in my mind.
"...Should I go find Ren?"
Ren had gone to the count's household. She was probably living well, but if I needed a goal, reuniting with an old connection from my past sounded good enough.
"What if she's living too well and gotten fat? I might not even recognize her."
With such idle thoughts, I shouldered my pack and headed down to the village. It was impulsive, but to reach the city as planned would take about three days. Plus, this world was full of monsters and beasts.
Not that it mattered to me. There was a reason I chose today to leave: the caravan was departing. I'd already mentioned it to the caravan leader yesterday while selling hides. Might as well travel comfortably.
"Oh! Kyle! Look who it is! You're really leaving today?"
Rapork, the caravan's escort captain, waved happily.
"Told you yesterday. Let's go together."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually do it. So you weren't kidding about becoming a mercenary?"
"Pretty much. You hiring?"
"Haha! If you ask, how could I refuse? Opportunities to hire someone who punches magic beasts barehanded don't come often!"
He was being friendly partly because we'd traded beast hides before, but also because I'd saved him once. When a magic beast attacked their caravan, I'd been passing by herb-picking and jumped in empty-handed—somehow beating it to death.
Ever since, he'd laugh and bring it up whenever he saw me.
"I always knew you weren't the type to stay in a backwater like this. You'll be a great warrior someday."
"I'd prefer knight over warrior. And a noble one at that."
"Haha! Of course! A man's gotta dream big! And you? Totally possible—I guarantee it!"
As we chatted, the caravan finished trading. Nothing much in this village—wheat, herbs, hides, crafts.
"Heard you were leaving the village, and here you are."
The caravan leader spoke flatly after wrapping up. Hooked nose, unreadable expression—village kids cried at the sight of him.
But I knew he was decent. Just keeps emotions in check for business. Made him seem a bit scary, though.
"That's right. Mind if I tag along, Gringem?"
He smirked and nodded at a wagon.
"Can't refuse a debt... Ride comfortably to the city."
Eyes stone-cold, mouth smiling—creepier that way.
"How's the mercenary demand lately?"
On the wagon to the city, I asked Gringem about it. I'd researched before, but caravans came every couple months, so my info was outdated.
"Hm... Mercenaries? Always demand."
"Really?"
I thought peace had dried it up. But he read my mind and smirked.
"No war? They work labor. Escort gigs are locked by companies and guards, though."
"So basically, take labor if nothing else."
"No jobs? That's what mercenaries do."
Prospects looked grim, as he said. Without war, mercenaries were just thugs—boozing, brawling, killing without batting an eye.
"Worst case, take exploration quests from the adventurer guild."
"Your choice. Good luck."
Gringem clammed up. Only wagon rattles filled the awkward silence. Then voices from outside—escort soldiers chatting.
"Who's the guy in the wagon? Built like a damn ox."
"Shh! That's the hunter who beat a magic beast barehanded!"
"Barehanded? Bullshit. Probably some exhausted beast. Still, size for days, huh?"
I peeked out the window flap—them right there. Two I'd seen before, one new: the bastard with my ex-wife yesterday.
Didn't care if he doubted the story, but mouthing off "that bastard" loud enough to hear? And the wife-stealer? Provocation.
"He's new, doesn't know better. Let it slide..."
As colleagues hushed him, I stared silently at the loudmouth. He flinched, then scowled and grumbled.
"What'd I say wrong? Beat a magic beast barehanded? Probably just finished off a tired one..."
Late-arriving Rapork grabbed his collar and barked.
"Rexad! Enough! You're crossing the line—daring to insult the caravan leader's guest?!"
"..."
The sneering guy backed off from the captain, lips pursed, glaring. I looked at Gringem.
"Mind if I step out for a word?"
He nodded knowingly.
"Go ahead. Handle gently."
"Not worried I might get hurt?"
"Anyone who saw that fight wouldn't think a lowly escort could touch you. Look at the others."
As the wagon stopped and I stepped down, the other escorts pitied the guy.
"He's done for..."
"Who didn't warn the newbie? Don't act tough."
"Didn't expect him to start shit right away..."
Murmurs everywhere. I stood before the cocky escort.
"Wh-what do you want?"
He was a full head shorter. Maybe more. And acting like he didn't know me—guess she hadn't spilled.
"Rexad, right?"
"..."
"Don't care if you believe the magic beast thing. But calling people 'bastard' to their face? Not cool, right?"
He barely met my eyes. Why strut from afar but cower up close?
"Fair enough. I get it. For reconciliation—shake on it?"
I smiled and offered my hand. Not really reconciliation.
"Gaaahhh!"
Clueless Rexad screamed, writhing. I crushed his hand with a crunching grip—he couldn't even think of drawing a weapon, just bawling like a kid.
"Behave with manners from now on. Got it? And stop touching what's not yours."
I whispered in his ear, then released. He clutched his swollen hand—maybe 1.5 times bigger—sobbing.
"Heh... Even for a newbie, escorts aren't picked just anyone..."
Rapork chuckled, watching a burly guard reduced to tears by a handshake.
