Chapter 9

Chapter 9. Milford’s Madman

At the same time, Balun felt a little uneasy.

He had absolutely no intention of storming the headquarters of those gangster bastards, whatever they were called, whether it was the Vipers or something else.

But would they feel the same way?

‘What if those bastards come after me instead, talking about revenge?’

That thought made him wonder whether he ought to leave the city at once.

Honestly, if they were all around that level, he felt like he could handle them.

But they had backers. Backers.

“You do not need to worry too much about them. They probably will not dare come at you so easily now, Balun.”

“Why not?”

“Because they have already been thoroughly beaten by you once. They lost quite a few valuable men, too. They must know by now that you are not someone they can handle.”

Barel had said nothing would happen, so Balun did feel somewhat relieved.

But would things really go the way Barel said?

Balun still remembered perfectly clearly that Barel had once said there were no mounted bandits on the Gray Plains besides the Red Wolf Band.

‘No bandits, my ass. The moment we came out of the canyon, I ran into a mounted gang and nearly died.’

He understood that Barel was a good man.

But what good was being a good man if that was all he was? A man needed competence. That was what made someone trustworthy.

“Can I trust you?”

“Yes. Truly. How could I possibly lie to you, Balun? This much I am certain of, so please believe me.”

“All right.”

He said all right, but he did not really believe him.

What if he let his guard down because of Barel’s words and the exact same thing happened again?

‘There is no harm in preparing.’

Balun prepared thoroughly. He gathered all the backup weapons he had left at the inn, and he also took the round buckler he had taken from Doug, the bandit chief. If he had even one shield, he would feel a lot more secure.

“B-Blood…”

“Aaah!”

There was a bit of an uproar at the inn.

The guests were horrified when Balun returned covered in blood.

And he had not simply come back alone. He had dragged two dying, blood-soaked men in with both hands.

A guard showed up, whether because someone reported it or for some other reason, but he did nothing and withdrew.

Balun had wondered why the man left without doing anything, but it turned out Barel had bribed him to look the other way.

The fact that thirteen men had been killed and no punishment at all was given made it seem that this was a world where violence mattered more than law.

“Then I will go again.”

“In that state? There is far too much blood on you.”

It was not merely a matter of having some blood on him.

He looked as though he had bathed in it.

“Why not wash up a little at the inn first? I will tell them to prepare bathwater.”

“No. I'm going now.”

“But if you do that, you will attract too much attention. It will be troublesome…”

“This is good. Blood is the symbol of a warrior. It means "great warrior.”

Balun flatly refused Barel’s suggestion of a bath and headed for the Mercenary Guild still drenched in blood.

He had spoken about being a warrior and all that, but in truth, he had another reason.

‘If I walk around looking like this, people will not dare mess with me so easily.’

Things went exactly as Balun expected.

No one bothered him.

They only stared at him like he was insane.

The stares were a little irritating, but it was still better than getting unlucky again and being attacked for no reason.

Surely it was better to be a madman than prey.

‘There?’

He walked along while taking in the sights, and before long he arrived at the Mercenary Guild.

It was a large two-story wooden building set on a spacious plot of land. At a glance, it was obvious that it was not privately owned.

He opened the door and went inside.

Creak. The rusted hinges groaned, and the dim interior and the sour stench of men’s sweat greeted Balun.

His face twisted at once.

‘Ugh, what is that smell?’

It smelled like a military training camp.

As memories of his army days from his previous life surfaced for the first time in a long while, making him frown even harder, he suddenly noticed how quiet it was inside.

When he looked around, every single person in the room was staring at him.

The person sitting at the counter, the people lingering around the notice board, the ones gathered around the tables with drinks in hand, even those warming themselves by the fireplace.

“What the hell is that?”

“Damn, that is savage. Look at all that blood.”

“Looks like he did something big.”

“But that is a barbarian, right?”

“Just look at what he is wearing. Obviously.”

“Hey, you! You are really coming in looking like that?”

“This is no place for some barbarian monkey!”

“You stink, so get the hell out!”

The brief silence broke, and voices poured out.

They came at him from several directions, rapid and scattered, and Balun could not understand more than half of it.

So he simply walked farther inside as though nothing were wrong.

The men were irritated that Balun did not even answer them, but none of them stopped him.

His very appearance had unconsciously cowed them.

His huge, muscular frame was already intimidating enough, and now that massive body was drenched in blood as well.

The giant man glanced around, and the mercenaries who met his eyes flinched.

His sharp stare looked threatening.

“That crazy bastard…”

“Is he trying to seize the upper hand right from the start?”

“Looks like someone pretty strong has shown up.”

The mercenaries whispered among themselves, but Balun was not glaring at them on purpose.

‘Wow, the smell is unbearable.’

It was simply because the stench was too vile.

To think these men could smell so bad that even he, a man who had lived as part of a barbarian tribe, could hardly endure it.

Compared to this, the smell of blood on his own body was nothing.

Unable to bear it any longer, Balun finally opened his mouth.

“You all, circulate air!”

“…What?”

“If not, you all die. Suffocation!”

For a moment, everyone doubted their ears.

“He said he would kill us, right? I heard that correctly, didn’t I?”

“Yes. I heard it too.”

The mercenaries’ eyes narrowed all at once.

A cold silence settled over the first-floor lobby.

It was only natural. They had just been threatened with murder to their faces.

In the next instant, icy glares poured toward him.

Balun, in turn, was bewildered by the hostile looks.

Why were they glaring at him like that?

‘I just told them to ventilate the place. Is that really so hard?’

Balun sighed.

They could not even understand a simple request to open the windows because it smelled bad. These primitive bastards living on the edge of the medieval age…

‘They do not look very strong, though.’

Even as he thought that, Balun was scanning the mercenaries.

It was a habit he had developed while living as a Red Fang Tribe warrior. To survive, he always had to assess the level of the people around him.

But all of them looked lean and narrow. None of them seemed like the sort who could really use force.

That was, in fact, why Balun had been acting so boldly.

If there had even been one truly large man among them, he would never have pushed things this far.

Balun gave up on the idea of getting the room ventilated and headed for the counter instead.

When he stopped in front of it, the clerk flinched.

“W-What business do you have?”

“Are you an employee?”

“I am, yes, but what have you come here for— Hah!”

The clerk sucked in a breath and recoiled in alarm.

Balun had suddenly lifted the leather sack in his left hand.

A human head dropped out of it with a thud.

Drops of blood splattered across the counter.

“Shit, you scared me!”

The clerk’s eyes met the open, resentful eyes of the severed head, and he stumbled back three or four steps without thinking.

The other mercenaries reacted the same way.

Anyone would have been startled. These were people who lived by the sword, yes, but no one casually threw a human head onto the counter like that.

“What do you think you are doing? Y-You frightened me.”

“You were frightened?”

“Who would not be frightened when someone suddenly tosses a human head down like that?”

“Hmm, fair point. I am sorry.”

The clerk narrowed his eyes.

What was that supposed to mean, “I am sorry”? Not quite an apology, not quite anything sensible.

Was he ordering him to accept an apology?

“Give me a bounty. This is the head of a mounted warrior.”

“A bounty? What are you suddenly— Ah, wait.”

The clerk fumbled beneath the counter, pulled out a bundle of yellowed papers, and leafed through them. Around the middle, he drew one out.

After confirming that it bore a composite sketch of the same man as the severed head, he let out a limp murmur.

“B-Butcher Doug.”

At once, the mercenaries’ eyes widened.

“What?”

“Butcher Doug? That?”

“He is dead?”

Seeing the mercenaries react so noisily, Balun tilted his head.

Why were they so shocked?

“Hey, you. Did you kill that?”

“I killed him.”

“Good heavens.”

Everyone wore doubtful expressions.

Apparently, it really was that shocking.

That made Balun curious enough to ask.

“Was this a great man?”

“Of course! He was the leader of the Black Fang Band! Do you know how notorious he was?”

“How so?”

“Do not tell me you do not know? Doug was a man of exceptional cruelty! They called him Butcher because he slaughtered everyone he came across. He was a vicious bastard.”

“I see.”

“He was once a knight, you know. A skilled swordsman. But he became wanted for killing the lord he had served. After that, he stole a horse, fled, and became a mounted bandit.”

Hearing that, Balun clicked his tongue.

What a pathetic life, killing the lord he served and running off to become the chief of mounted bandits.

Why would anyone kick away fortune and glory with his own feet?

“If Doug is dead, then Ralph will not stay quiet. He will try to kill whoever killed his brother no matter what.”

“Ralph? The mounted warrior with the red hat?”

The mercenary frowned for a moment at Balun’s bizarre combination of words, then quickly understood.

“That is right. I mean Ralph, the leader of the Red Wolf Band. Hound Ralph. He is just as much of a madman as Doug was. He was a knight as well.”

At that, Balun let out a short laugh.

The brothers had really been a pair of lunatics. The older one was the Butcher, and the younger one was the Hound.

“That is fine. I killed him too.”

“What?”

“I killed him as well. The bad warrior brothers are good now.”

“Hey! You killed Ralph too? Really?”

“Mercenary employee. No bounty?”

“Ah, yes! J-Just wait a moment!”

“I asked if you really killed him!”

Balun thought for a moment.

To be honest, he could have simply answered them.

But if he did that, they would probably start pressing him for more and more. They would likely look down on him for being a barbarian, too.

‘Better to go a little harder. They are rough mercenaries, after all.’

Maybe he should scare them a little.

Thinking that, Balun spun around and strode toward the mercenary who had spoken to him. Then, looking down at him, he said,

“Are you curious?”

“……”

“If you are curious, should I show you?”

After glaring once at the mercenary while idly touching his axe, Balun lifted his chin, swept his eyes across the room, and raised his voice.

“Is anyone curious? If you're curious, I'll show you the taste of the axe.”

“……”

“Seems no one is.”

No one opened his mouth.

Balun turned back around with a blank expression.

Inside, though, he was relieved.

That was fortunate.

If someone had actually stepped up just because he called them out, things would have grown exhausting again.

You never knew. There might have been someone genuinely strong among them.

“H-Here.”

The clerk, who had gone somewhere for a moment, returned to the counter and handed Balun a money pouch.

When Balun took it, he felt its heavy weight and heard the coins clink together.

He untied it and looked inside.

There were two gold coins and several dozen silver ones.

‘Is this a lot?’

He could not tell whether he should be happy or not.

How was he supposed to know without understanding the value of the currency?

‘Since there are gold coins, it does feel like a decent amount. It is probably like having fifty-thousand-won bills.’

That did not mean it was really worth that much, of course.

Still, since it was gold, perhaps it was worth something like a million won. That was what he guessed.

Balun took out one of the gold coins and bit it.

A tooth mark remained.

So it did seem to be real gold.

After that, Balun combined the bounty with the pouch of money he had received from Barel and counted it.

He had more than ten gold coins now.

The pouch felt so full that it made his heart feel full as well.

‘Could I buy a house with this?’

If one of the things in Balun’s bucket list ranked in the top five, one of them was definitely this.

Owning a home.

What a beautiful, intoxicating phrase.

Any modern person would feel the same.

‘Even if not a new one, I could probably at least buy some rotten old detached house, right?’

Balun smiled.

Hope swelled in his chest.

The dream of owning his own home, something he had failed to achieve in his previous life.

This time, in this life, he would make it happen.

‘If I am going to settle down somewhere, is a big city better? A big city would probably have more jobs. But then housing prices would be high.’

For a moment, Balun drifted into thoughts that were intensely modern, then came back to himself.

When he turned his head, he saw the mercenaries staring fixedly at his money pouch.

“Why are you staring?”

“A-Ahem!”

“Do you want it?”

At his question, the mercenaries coughed awkwardly and turned their heads.

But Balun could tell from their eyes that their greed had not disappeared.

A bad feeling struck him at once.

This nasty feeling that the moment he stepped out of the guild building, he was going to get pickpocketed…

Balun decided to prevent that.

“You mercenaries, if you want my money, try taking it. If you do, all of you will die by my hand.”

He quickly scanned the mercenaries.

Then he picked out the weakest-looking one among them.

It was not because that man had been glaring at him.

It was because the man looked utterly spineless, the kind of person Balun could provoke without fearing any later trouble.

He truly was a disgracefully petty Barbarian. Instead of facing the strong like a mighty warrior, he was trying to intimidate someone weak and frail.

‘Good. That one.’

Balun pulled a hand axe from his waist and threw it.

Driven by his monstrous strength, the axe flew in a straight line, narrowly grazing the scrawny mercenary’s head before burying itself in the wall and trembling there.

“W-W-W-W-What…”

The mercenaries parted like a wave.

The scrawny mercenary’s legs must have given out, because he collapsed to the floor on the spot, and a wet stain spread between his legs.

“If you covet my money, you split open.”

“……”

“Remember that.”

Having issued the warning, Balun pulled the hand axe from the wall, fastened it back at his waist, and left the lobby.

A frigid silence was all that remained behind him.

That silence did not break until roughly a minute later.

“A madman has appeared in Milford.”

At the low mutter of one mercenary sitting in a corner, the others seated nearby found themselves nodding blankly in agreement.

***

Breathing in the fresh air outside, Balun quietly pressed his right hand to the left side of his chest.

His heart was pounding like mad.

‘They did not notice I was nervous, right? If they did, that would be unbelievably humiliating…’

Balun prayed they had not noticed.

If they had, the shame would have been unbearable.

Rumors would spread everywhere that he had only been pretending to be tough.

How was he supposed to walk around with his head held high after that?