The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 92



Chapter 92

Chapter 92: Was That Today? (2)

Ghislain clearly remembered the name “Crank.”

It was because every time Claude drank, he would curse the man who had cut his wrist.

But for that to be today of all days!

“This is urgent. Lead me to this man, Crank, right now. I’ll handsomely reward you.”

The employee shook his head with an awkward expression.

“I have my duties to attend to. Please find someone else to guide you…”

“Hey, nobleman. Seems like you’re not from around here. Why are you looking for our boss?”

A mocking voice interrupted the employee’s words from the next table.

Ghislain slowly turned his head.

Three thugs were lounging around a table. They were the ones who had been cleaning up earlier.

Ghislain approached them and spoke in a low voice.

“I need to meet your boss immediately.”

“Do you even know who you’re talking to? You think you can just waltz in and see the boss without telling us who you are?”

“It’s urgent. You’ll be compensated well.”

“Well, if it’s that urgent… Maybe we could make something happen, if you pay the errand fee first. That’s just how things work around here.”

The man sitting in the middle twirled his finger into a circle, gesturing for money.

Ghislain pulled out a gold coin from his pocket and tossed it to him.

“Move quickly.”

His eyes began to gleam with a dangerous light, but the thug, oblivious to the warning, raised his finger again.

“Pff, since you’ve already started spending some coins, why not add a little more? The cost of living is pretty high around here.”

The two thugs sitting on either side chuckled in agreement.

Shwick!

“Huh?”

In an instant, something flashed by, and the man’s wrist was sliced clean off, landing on the table.

“Arrghhh!”

The thug, who hadn’t even had time to react, screamed and rolled on the ground as blood spattered across the table.

“Jokes have their time and place.”

Ghislain sheathed his sword as he spoke.

Finally, the men on either side jumped up in shock, but the mercenaries moved faster.

Bang!

Before they could fully stand, their heads were slammed back onto the table, faces pressed down by the mercenaries.

“W-what the hell are you doing…?”

The man whose wrist had been cut off staggered backward, his face pale with fear.

Ghislain grabbed him by the throat.

“Where did they take Claude?”

“T-the slaughterhouse! They dragged him to the slaughterhouse! It’s on the outskirts of Austern! It hasn’t been long since they took him!”

Thud!

Ghislain drove his sword deep into the man’s shoulder.

“Aaaargh!”

“You’ll guide me. If we’re late, and Claude’s hand gets cut off, all of you are dead.”

Ghislain dragged the man outside by his neck.

Shaking in terror, the thug pointed with trembling fingers in the direction they needed to go, and Ghislain began to walk.

Before long, they arrived in a filthy, rundown area that was no different from a slum.

Unlike the bustling streets crowded with tourists, this area was filled with cheap taverns and shady individuals.

As they approached an especially large building, the thug in Ghislain’s grip began to shout.

“It’s an intruder! Intruder! Spare me!”

In front of the building, a dozen rough-looking men were lounging around, chatting idly.

The moment one of the men shouted, they jumped to their feet, gripping their weapons.

They didn’t even seem interested in checking who the opponent was.

“Let’s smash ’em first!”

As the thugs rushed forward, Ghislain grabbed the man he’d been using as a guide and slammed him to the ground.

“Gillian, subdue them all. Once I’ve seen the situation inside, I’ll decide whether to kill or spare them.”

“Understood. Go ahead.”

While the mercenaries clashed with the thugs, Ghislain quickly dashed into the building.

* * *

Animal carcasses hung in various spots throughout the slaughterhouse.

The stench of blood and the musky odor of beasts filled the air.

Crank, the thug boss, cracked his neck from side to side, a grin spreading across his face.

The thought of swinging his axe after such a long time made his heart race.

In front of him, a man who appeared to be in his late twenties was tied to a chair.

Though his appearance was disheveled and shabby, there was an undeniable air of intelligence in his face.

He was Claude, the man Ghislain had been looking for, known around Austern as the

“Gambling Hall’s Eccentric Sage.”

Despite being tightly bound and on the verge of facing an axe, Claude’s eyes showed not fear, but only wariness.

Claude opened his mouth, his bored and raspy voice echoing in the warehouse.

“Who sent you?”

“Who the hell needs to send me? You’re the one who got caught messing around. I’m just here to follow the law and chop off your wrist.”

Claude snorted in disbelief.

“I’ve never cheated. Pretty pathetic for someone who claims to run the backstreets. Don’t have the guts to find out the truth, huh?”

“You bastard…”

Crank gritted his teeth.

Talking more would only aggravate him, so it was better to finish the job quickly and dispose of the body.

“Hey, bring me the axe.”

One of his men stepped forward, holding a hand axe.

Crank gestured toward Claude’s wrist.

“Cut it off. Cleanly.”

“Where, exactly?”

“Where do you think… Forget it, give it to me.”

Snatching the axe from his subordinate, Crank nodded his head.

“If you beg for mercy right now, I might settle for just a finger.”

However, Claude still didn’t show even a hint of tension.

Instead, he glared at Crank with annoyance and muttered.

“If you’re going to cut it, just cut it. I don’t have time to waste arguing with someone like you.”

“Fine, once I lop off a piece, you won’t be able to flap that mouth anymore!”

With a twitch of his lips, Crank raised the axe above his head.

“— Enemy! We’ve got enemies! Help!”

Just then, a loud commotion could be heard from outside.

Frowning, Crank glanced toward the warehouse entrance.

“What the hell? What’s going on? Go check it out.”

The nearby thugs nodded and started heading out, but there was no need.

Crash!

The door shattered as Ghislain stormed into the warehouse.

Scanning the surroundings quickly, Ghislain spotted Crank, pointed at him, and spoke.

“If you move, you die. Stay right where you are.”

A thug stepped forward, blocking Ghislain’s path, shouting.

“Do you know where you are? You bastard!”

The thug lunged forward, thrusting a dagger.

But Ghislain wasn’t someone who would fall for such a clumsy attack.

With a nonchalant gesture, he reached out and grabbed the dagger.

Crack!

The dagger shattered into pieces, leaving the thug staring in shock.

“No way, that’s impossible!! Who breaks a blade barehanded?!”

“Well, someone here does. Now, just let it rest.”

Boom!

Ghislain casually swatted the air as if brushing away a bug.

The thug was sent flying into the wall, his nose and teeth completely shattered.

Crank shouted frantically.

“What are you idiots doing?! Attack him all at once!”

A dozen thugs in the warehouse charged at the same time.

Ghislain glared at them and extended his hand.

He had no intention of dealing with them one by one. He was too pressed for time to waste any.

Clink!

Threads of mana wrapped around the thugs, freezing them in place.

Crack!

“Aaaaargh!”

As Ghislain clenched his fist, the thugs’ limbs all twisted and broke, sending them collapsing to the ground.

“W-what the hell?!”

Crank staggered backward, his face drained of color.

He had seen all sorts of brutal things in his life, but never something as strange as this.

“Is he… a mage?”

He fought with his fists like a knight, but Crank had never heard of a knight pulling off something this bizarre.

Even Claude, who had been trying to hide his fear, widened his eyes in shock.

Having studied at the academy, Claude had seen plenty of knights and mages, but none who could use such a technique.

As Ghislain approached him, Claude watched silently before asking.

“Did you come to rescue me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? We don’t even know each other.”

“Let’s just say we’ll get to know each other from now on.”

Claude grimaced, looking like he was staring at a madman.

Ghislain chuckled and untied Claude from the chair.

“I’m Ghislain, Baron of Fenris from the Ritania Kingdom. You can just call me Ghislain.”

At that moment, Crank, who had been watching dumbfounded, finally stammered and interrupted.

“W-what’s a foreign noble doing here? Even if you’re a noble, you can’t just do as you please!”

But even Crank himself doubted whether this guy would listen.

Everyone in Austern knew that indulgence wasn’t just for commoners. There was an unspoken agreement among nobles not to disturb each other’s playgrounds to avoid losing their own.

Yet this man had stormed in without a care for that understanding.

Would he back down just because Crank spoke up?

Ghislain’s answer was exactly what Crank feared.

“I’m taking Claude with me.”

“T-that man cheated! The law here is to cut off the hand of someone like him!”

“Don’t play dumb. You really think I came here without knowing anything?”

Ghislain had heard Claude’s lament about having his limbs unfairly severed more times than he could count.

Crank glanced sideways at the shattered door. His subordinates were either lying on the ground or kneeling in defeat.

While he was still unsure of what to do, Ghislain walked over and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll leave it at this. Since Claude’s wrist is still intact, I’ll let you and your men keep your heads too. That should be more than enough, don’t you think?”

Ghislain’s snake-like gaze pierced into Crank’s eyes.

“I-I understand.”

Crank nodded repeatedly, trembling. He had fought his way to this position, spilling plenty of blood along the way, so his instincts told him one thing: the man standing before him was far beyond anything he could handle.

“You’re quick to catch on. I like that.”

Ghislain grinned, pulling a few gold coins from his pocket and pressing them into Crank’s hand.

“For your men’s medical bills. Use whatever’s left for drinks.”

“…Thank you.”

Crank slowly backed away, still terrified.

Ghislain appeared ready to walk past him, but suddenly, he grabbed Crank by the collar and yanked him forward.

“W-what now?!”

Leaning in close, Ghislain whispered into Crank’s ear in a low, menacing voice.

“Stop the surveillance, too. I’ll be gone soon enough.”

The killing intent in Ghislain’s voice sent cold sweat trickling down Crank’s face as he nodded frantically.

Satisfied, Ghislain let go of Crank’s collar and gave him a pat on the shoulder, looking pleased.

“You’ve worked hard. Keep it up.”

“Th-thank you. Safe travels.”

Claude followed Ghislain, glancing back at Crank.

It was the first time he had ever seen Crank look so terrified. Wasn’t Crank supposed to be the strongest thug in the backstreets?

Claude quickly shook his head and caught up with Ghislain. He had narrowly escaped having his hand chopped off, and he didn’t want to get involved in anything else strange.

As the cool air outside hit him, it finally sank in that he had been freed.

Claude bowed his head to Ghislain.

“Thank you for saving me. But… Why would you go out of your way to help someone like me? I’m not worth the trouble.”

Ghislain studied Claude’s face carefully in response to his self-deprecating words.

Sunken, lifeless eyes. A hollow, exhausted expression.

He looked like a withered tree—someone who had given up on everything and lost the will to live.

It reminded Ghislain of the day he had first met Gillian. Gillian had worn that same expression.

Before Ghislain could reply, Claude spoke again.

“Well, whatever the reason, I guess it doesn’t really matter. Since it’s come to this… would you mind buying me a drink?”


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