𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝟐
The infirmary attached to the adventurer’s guild can be used for free by any adventurer registered with the guild.
It’s not cheap to sponsor this.
However, there aren’t many users.
This is because when adventurers get injured, it’s usually on the battlefield, in a labyrinth, or in ruins, situations that are directly linked to death.
If you get injured enough to need hospitalization in such a place, you won’t be able to make it back to town alive in the first place.
In that sense, a woman named Fīna was lucky.
She was injured on the main street of the city of Gaillia, and both the adventurer’s guild and the Supreme Church were nearby, so quick first aid was possible.
Otherwise, it would have been a fatal injury. Like having her right arm cut off from the shoulder.
However, just because her life was saved doesn’t mean everything is fine.
Losing your dominant arm is as good as death for an adventurer.
The guild isn’t heartless, so they’ll take care of her until she can move properly, but that’s it.
Fīna herself has to think about what to do next.
“Even if you say think. . .”
In a bed lit only by moonlight, the woman mutters to herself.
Three months since the incident.
Her body is recovering, but she has no prospects for the future.
It’s hard to continue being an adventurer. And there aren’t many places that would hire a woman with one arm. Even in a place like a brothel.
Ideally, the perpetrator should be responsible for her future livelihood, but the criminal is in prison and doing forced labor.
There’s no money coming in.
The clan’s headquarters that he had were seized by a moneylender in the form of debt.
She’s completely stuck.
“Is there no choice but to die. . .”
Negative thoughts dominate.
Perhaps her thinking is being dulled by the painkillers she’s on.
She suddenly feels the night breeze on her cheek.
When she shifts her gaze, she sees that the window has been opened at some point.
And there’s a figure standing by the window.
“Luke. . .”
The man she once loved.
His face, illuminated by the moonlight, looked quite haggard.
“Did you break out of prison to finish me off?”
What came out of Fīna’s mouth was not a scream, but a question.
“I want you to use it for. . . your living expenses.”
What came back was not really an answer.
A leather bag is placed on the bed.
The sound of coins clinking resonates.
“It’s not enough to support you for the rest of your life, but there’s two hundred in there.”
“. . .I’m disappointed, Luke.”
A dim flame lights up in Fīna’s black eyes.
Do you feel responsible for hurting me and bring me money?
What’s the point of doing this?
Does he think my lost right arm will grow back?
“You hate me, don’t you? Kill me. What are you trying to forgive?”
“Fīna. . .”
“You’re going to live as a man who abandoned his best friend, was abandoned by his comrades, and killed his lover. Forever.”
The woman’s lips curve into a half-moon.
Like a witch’s smile.
The next moment, Luke was moving.
The long sword in his hand pierces Fīna’s body. Precisely, her heart.
“Stop talking. Please.”
A whisper in her ear.
Fīna’s left hand wanders as if seeking something.
“I’ll be waiting in hell. . .Luke. . .”
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”
He gently lays the body down and leaps out of the window he came in through.
There’s still something he has to do.
He hasn’t thanked his best friend, who released him from prison using his connections, in a patronizing way.
“I appreciate your kindness. It’s a debt I can’t repay, Lionel.”
Fangs peek out from his muttered mouth.
Like a starving wolf.
・・・
『”𝐴𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠.𝑐𝑜𝑚” – 𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒, 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑔𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡r𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ “𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑝𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠” 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑜 “𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠”.』
・・・
The man whose neck was severed in one blow falls, spewing blood like a fountain.
“To think you ruled the underworld with this level of skill. It’s laughable.”
Luke swings his sword to shake off the blood, and raises one cheek.
The backstreets of Gaillia.
He, who had stormed into the thieves’ hideout alone, demanded the boss’s seat.
Of course, no one agrees.
The thugs attack with shouts.
But they were all wiped out in a matter of moments.
Overwhelming strength.
This is the power of a man who, despite being an orphan, founded a clan at the age of twelve (eleven), and rose to become one of the most prestigious in Gaillia in just ten years.
Luke’s bravery and Lionel’s wisdom, these two have served as the wings that have made the Gold-lined Butterflies soar high.
“Now, your boss is dead.”
Luke glares around him and twists his lips.
“Either you follow me, or you die here. Now, choose. It’s not a difficult question, is it?”
The thugs surrender all at once.
After all, they are just parasites in society. They don’t have the guts to risk their lives to avenge their boss.
They bow their heads to the strong.
That’s their way of surviving.
“Trash is still a force. I need pawns to fight against Lionel.”
He mutters to himself and smiles slightly.
I can no longer meet him as a friend. I don’t intend to.
However, I can face him as an enemy.
“I’m looking forward to it, Lionel. We’ve never settled our fights since we were kids, but now we’ll finally know who’s stronger.”
He kicks the head of the man who was the boss, laughing uproariously.
With a look of sheer delight on his face.
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Translator’s Blog
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