Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Knock, knock.
Just as he was about to leave the house, someone knocked softly on the door.
The annoyance in Parker’s eyes quickly turned into a gleam of madness.
He had come.
Parker wanted nothing more than to grab a club and beat him senseless. No, he wanted to beat him ten times more than what he had endured.
But all Parker could do now was sit and wait. In his current state, he was barely able to sit up.
Swish.
Parker gave Montaul a look, signaling him to open the door quickly.
Montaul frowned as he looked at Parker.
“Hey, Parker.”
“…?”
“I know you’re in a hurry, but if you give me that kind of look or try to order me around again, you might lose an eye.”
“W-What?”
“Just be careful.”
Montaul’s firm tone made Parker gulp.
“O-Of course, my apologies.”
In his rush, he had forgotten who was sitting in front of him.
At Parker’s words, Montaul turned his head towards the door.
“Come in.”
“…”
But there was no response.
“I said, come in.”
Montaul repeated, now with a tinge of irritation.
“…”
Still, there was no response. Montaul’s expression grew colder.
“What’s going on…?”
“Shh.”
Montaul, muttering quietly, drew the dagger from his waist. Then…
Screech.
As he carefully pushed the door open…
Swish!
A knife suddenly flew into the room, and Montaul quickly swung his dagger to deflect it.
Clang!
“Hiiik!”
As the knife clattered to the floor, Parker shrieked in panic.
“…Did it fail?”
Montaul muttered as he looked at the boy standing opposite him.
He didn’t know how the boy had found this place, but if he was alone, it meant the mission had failed.
“Are you Damian?”
“Yes, lackey.”
“Lackey?”
“Aren’t you the pig’s lackey behind you? That’s why you’re doing his bidding.”
“Heh, you’ve got quite the mouth for a little brat.”
Montaul’s eyes grew cold as he looked at the spear in Damian’s hand.
It was crude, barely a spear at all.
It was just a long stick with a dagger tied to the end.
Montaul couldn’t help but laugh.
“Heh, what’s that toy? Did you make that spear yourself?”
“No matter how you look at it, I’m more used to this than a dagger.”
Damian had been handling spears for five years.
Thinking there might be a leader where Parker was, he had snapped a wooden pole in half and tied a dagger to it.
It might be lacking in some ways, but…
‘This is still much better.’
As he expected, there was indeed someone who could be considered the leader.
Montaul let out a small breath as he noticed Damian’s gaze.
Still, the fact that he had dealt with the subordinates and came here meant…
‘There was an unexpected variable.’
Things had become troublesome.
Montaul glanced back at Parker and said,
“Hey, Parker. I’ll need to triple the fee. This situation has gotten serious.”
“T-Three times?!”
The original amount was already substantial.
Asking for a bit more was one thing, but tripling the fee?
Parker couldn’t hide his shock, and Montaul, noticing the blood on the tip of Damian’s spear, said,
“Do you see the blood on that stick? It’s all from my men… What do you think will happen to you if I walk away now?”
“A-Are you threatening me?!”
“It’s not a threat. We suffered a significant loss because of the wrong information you gave us, so I’m just asking you to make it right.”
“B-But three times is…”
“Then I’m out.”
Montaul started to sheathe his dagger and turn away. But just as he did, Parker spoke up hastily.
“I-I’ll pay it, three times!”
Parker knew it too.
If Montaul left now, he was as good as dead.
Even if he didn’t die, he’d be beaten far worse than before.
As Montaul turned back, a smirk spread across his face.
“Negotiation complete.”
With those words, Montaul put away his dagger and drew the long sword from his waist.
It was a slightly curved blade.
Montaul addressed Damian.
“Nothing personal. It’s just business.”
“I do take it personally. So don’t ask why, just die.”
Because of these bastards, Damian had spent half his life in the slums, living like trash.
Montaul frowned deeply at Damian’s words.
“You arrogant little…”
Swish!
Montaul lunged out of the house, charging at Damian.
He couldn’t kill him because of Parker’s request.
Instead, he planned to cut the tendons in his arms and legs, leaving him crippled.
Swish!
As Montaul pushed off the ground and rushed forward…
Thrust!
Damian aimed his makeshift spear at Montaul’s groin.
It wasn’t towards the throat or the heart, but an awkward position below the waist. Montaul’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
‘This brat…?’
Montaul was a natural-born fighter and leader.
He had grown up in the back alleys and climbed to his current position after countless fights from a young age.
He could tell from the first exchange.
‘He’s no ordinary kid.’
A low attack like this was the most difficult for someone as tall as Montaul to dodge or block.
If it had been a fluke, it wouldn’t matter, but…
‘If he did it intentionally…’
Underestimating him just because he was thirteen could lead to serious trouble.
Clang!
Montaul slightly deflected Damian’s spear and pushed off the ground with force.
Thud!
In an instant, Montaul’s speed increased.
He threw a left punch aimed at Damian’s face.
Swish!
But the left punch was just a feint.
As soon as Damian reacted to the punch, protecting his face…
‘I’ll slice his thigh.’
If he could take out one of Damian’s legs, he could toy with him and finish him off at his leisure.
As expected, Damian tilted his head back to avoid the punch.
And at that exact moment…
“This is the real attack!”
Montaul, seeing Damian fall into the trap he had set, swung his sword at Damian’s thigh.
Whoosh!
“…Whoosh?”
He expected to feel something—a slicing, a stabbing sensation—but Montaul’s sword sliced through empty air…
“I already knew that the real attack was coming from your right hand.”
Damian had noticed Montaul’s quick glance at his thigh right before the attack.
The grip tightening around the sword for a decisive strike.
The way he threw the punch but didn’t put full force into it, and how he slightly twisted his waist to the left—these all told Damian what was coming.
Montaul was aiming to attack his thigh with the sword in his right hand.
With a swift movement, Damian pulled his right leg back, dodging Montaul’s sword, and pivoted on his left foot, turning clockwise.
Using the momentum, he struck Montaul’s back with the bottom of the spear he was holding.
Thud!
“Argh!”
The strike landed squarely on Montaul’s back, making him cry out in pain, his face contorting.
He hadn’t expected Damian to dodge and counterattack like that.
But even though the attack hit, it was still just a strike from a thirteen-year-old boy.
Lacking strength, it wasn’t a fatal blow.
Gritting his teeth, Montaul turned around.
Forget about crippling him—he just wanted to tear the boy apart right then and there.
“You little brat, I’ll kill you…”
Montaul spat out a curse as he turned to face Damian.
But before he could finish his sentence…
Slish.
The chilling sound of a blade cutting through flesh made Montaul flinch.
A thin, red line appeared across his neck.
“Guh, guh!”
As Montaul grabbed his neck with both hands, the wound split open, blood gushing out.
The fight ended as quickly as it began, leaving Montaul’s death almost anticlimactic.
Damian looked down at the fallen Montaul.
‘He was pretty strong… but still.’
He was just a back-alley thug, after all.
Damian, though unable to use magic, was one of the most skilled spearmen in the kingdom.
A mere thug like Montaul was no match for him.
With the fight over, Damian turned his gaze to Parker, who had collapsed to the ground.
The shock of Montaul’s defeat was clear on Parker’s face as he stared at Damian in disbelief.
“D-Damian… Please, listen to me…”
As Damian walked into the room, Parker, his face swollen to twice its size, paled and began trembling.
“D-Don’t come any closer! Stay away!”
Parker screamed desperately, his voice filled with terror as if he were seeing a ghost.
But as the door closed behind Damian, Parker’s desperate pleas turned into blood-curdling screams.
* * *
“Is the recipient Damian?”
“Yes.”
“The total comes to 3 platinum and 650 gold. Since 650 gold is quite a large amount, I’ve prepared it in jewels. Would you like to verify it?”
At Bilson’s words, who was responsible for Damian’s insurance, Damian shook his head.
Taking all that money out at once would only make him a target for assassination the moment he left the bank.
Just knowing that the transaction was completed was enough.
“I’ll deposit everything with the Imperial Bank. Also, can this be deposited as well?”
Damian placed a pouch filled with jewels on the counter.
Bilson looked at it with surprise.
“Th-These jewels…”
But Bilson didn’t ask any questions.
He didn’t need to—he could already guess.
He had heard the news that a loan shark named Parker had been killed last night in a dispute with his partner.
“…I think it would be best to have these officially appraised and converted to cash before depositing them. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, I trust you.”
“Though it’s not exact, these jewels should be worth around 3 platinum.”
Hearing this, Damian smiled faintly.
“Thank you. I’ll leave it in your hands.”
“Thank you for trusting us with this. You’ll be able to access your funds at any branch of the Imperial Bank with proper identification.”
“Thank you.”
As Damian stood up, Bilson also rose from his seat.
Bilson asked, “May I ask where you’re heading next?”
Damian could become one of his most valuable VIP clients. After all, with the addition of the jewels, Damian had deposited more than 6 platinum—a significant amount of money.
Considering that the average monthly living expenses for a family of 3 to 4 commoners were around 2 to 3 gold, this was an enormous sum.
1,000 gold equaled 1 platinum, after all.
To Bilson’s question, Damian replied, “I’m planning to enlist in the military.”
“The military?”
Bilson blinked in confusion as he looked at Damian.
It didn’t make sense.
With so much money, why would he choose to go to the military and put himself through such hardship?
“If you need a place to stay, I can recommend a safe location.”
“No, thank you.”
Bilson probably couldn’t understand Damian’s actions.
‘But in five years, the situation will change completely.’
By then, most young men would be conscripted anyway.
Rather than being forcibly drafted later, it was much better to enlist now and secure a position.
Moreover…
“There are people I need to meet.”
“In the military?”
A thirteen-year-old boy talking about people he needed to meet… in the military?
Bilson looked at him with a puzzled expression, but…
“I’ll contact you once I’m settled.”
With that, Damian left the bank.
As he climbed into the carriage, he said, “To the capital, please.”
It was a decision he had made from the start.
Knowing the future five years ahead played a part, but that was a minor reason.
It was simply…
‘It’s the only place I belong.’
And it was a chance to start anew.
This time, in a completely different way.
He wasn’t being forcibly conscripted, nor was he twenty-five and too old.
‘And my magic hole isn’t damaged.’
Everything was perfect.
‘This time…’
He would rise higher than anyone else.
He wouldn’t be swept up in the chaos of the times…
‘I’ll be the one in control.’
Damian’s eyes gleamed with determination, sharper than ever.
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