𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏𝟎: 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑)
Suddenly, light poured onto the plaza.
The figures of us six, standing on the rooftop of the inn, reflected in the surprised eyes of the slave traders and their clients. Miliaria had adjusted it so we were backlit, making our faces hard to see.
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Well, even if they could see, we have cloth wrapped around our faces.
Of course, to make our features unrecognizable.
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“Hahahahahaha!”
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And this stupidly loud laughter is mine.
This was also Miliaria’s idea, trying to make everything seem as theatrical and surreal as possible.
So it wouldn’t connect with [Hope] in any way.
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“You beasts, who abduct women and children to sell for profit!”
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Hey, do I really need to say this speech?
The slave traders look confused.
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“Know that your evil deeds end here! Ha!”
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We jump from the height of a four-story building.
Under normal circumstances, such a leap would result in more than a few broken bones. But thanks to flight magic cast on Asuka, Salieri, Meg, and me, we land lightly and gracefully.
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We’ve landed right in the middle of the enemy.
The slave traders and their guards stand there, not understanding what’s happening.
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They recognized it as an enemy attack after the four of us each killed one.
Slow.
Too slow.
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Even though they were taken by surprise, such a reaction is useless on a battlefield.
I sidestep the sword of a large guard who charges at me, and I cut through his torso as we pass each other.
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“Your attack is too wide. Why did you think that would hit?”
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With cold words, I moved towards the next enemy.
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The slave trader is with twenty people, escorted by about forty.
And there are about fifteen well-dressed folks. They must be the customers.
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We plan to kill every single one of them.
It’s crucial to prevent any witnesses, to keep them in the dark about what happened, and to avoid any potential retaliation.
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We will kill them cleanly, without any mess.
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Ideally, we would want to spare the customers and rescue the slaves they’ve bought in the past. But if we go that far, it’s highly likely our identities will be exposed.
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“If we kill them here, at least they won’t be able to kidnap people or buy slaves anymore,”
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Just as Salieri said, we can only do what we can.
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Salieri and Asuka are taking down the guards one after the other.
Starting with the most competent is a logical decision, but the slave trader has started to flee, realizing the difficulty of resistance.
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To attempt to escape while the guards are being killed shows quite the nerve.
If they weren’t so shameless, they probably couldn’t do this kind of business.
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And they probably think we’re naive enough to just watch them do it.
They must think they’re the only cunning ones.
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A high-speed rotating ice ring flying from the sky decapitates two or three slave traders at once.
Of course, it’s Miliaria’s magic, Eight-fold Ring.
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The reason Miliaria and Meisha aren’t moving from the rooftop is to keep an eye on potential escapees while providing support.
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Despite outnumbering us, the guards stand no chance against Asuka and Salieri’s valor, and one by one, they fall.
When about half of them are killed, it’s clear they’ve completely lost their nerve.
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“They’ve only ever fought those weaker than themselves. It’s pretty obvious.”
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As soon as Meg’s right foot grazes, a roundhouse kick cuts through a guard’s throat, who falls while spewing a whistling sound and blood.
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Confusion increases among the guards due to the incomprehensible technique. But in reality, Meg’s boot tip is equipped with a retractable sharp blade.
In the darkness of the night, it would be indistinguishable even with Miliaria’s light magic.
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“Please! Don’t kill me!”
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A well-dressed, fat man stumbles towards us.
Presumably, raising a bag filled with gold coins.
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Intending to buy his life with the gold he was supposed to use to buy the lives of the slaves.
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Without a word, I unleash a single stroke of Flame Cut at the man’s shoulder height.
His head rolls away, making a comically light sound.
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After about a quarter of an hour of fighting, or rather, it wasn’t even a fight, it was a one-sided massacre. The slave traders, guards, and customers were almost entirely annihilated.
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The only one left alive is a customer.
That’s because he didn’t move an inch from where he was at the beginning.
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We prioritize moving targets to take down.
Be it for attack or escape.
So in a sense, staying still was the safest.
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Raising the Flame Cut, I approach.
The man who waits without flinching.
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“Do you have any last words?”
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I asked out of respect for his composure.
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“Not particularly. I am concerned about the future of those children, but it’s too late to worry about it now. Go ahead and cut me down.”
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He looks towards the cage.
As if apologizing.
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“It’s laughable. Someone who was going to buy sex slaves is worried about the future of the slaves.”
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I prepare the sword.
I will kill him in one blow, without causing him pain.
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“Neldan-san. You can’t kill him. I don’t smell the peculiar scent of a slave enthusiast from him.”
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With that puzzling line, Meg stops me.
What does she mean by smell?
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