Episode 55 - Brash Brigade Assemble



"Kgh...!"
Most of his teeth — everything except the molars — had been shattered or knocked loose, and the sharp pain from his mouth hadn't let up since.
There was also a persistent nausea from his abdomen that left him deeply uneasy.
He had barely managed to escape through back alleys difficult to navigate even for someone who knew them well — but he had no idea when the man might come in pursuit.
"Damn it... damn it all...! For now I just need to somehow—!"
The Underground.
If he could escape to the Underground, he would be safe for the time being.
There were still many there who bore him goodwill.
He was struggling down the alley toward the fox hole hidden within it — when —
"Kgh...?!"
In the direction Athunga was heading, the remains of the Brute Body he had created had been hurled and left blocking the path.
"Hey. Where are you rushing off to?"
"Kgh...! Kaaaftiiiin...!"
Somehow the man had gotten ahead of him and was standing there, cutting off his escape.
There was nowhere left to run.
"Right then — what's your plan? Your magic, which is everything you have, doesn't work on me. There are no corpses nearby."
"......"
"If you give up your life quietly, I might make it just a little—"
Athunga had been looking down, as if thinking something through — and then he raised his head and smiled.
"I see... you're right. I no longer have any means to stand against you."
"So, you're giving up?"
"...No. There is still one thing I've kept in reserve until last."
"......?"
As the words left him, Athunga gathered what remained of his mana and formed a bone dagger in his hand.
"I will not die as a sacrifice to your vendetta!"
"......! You—!"
"Go ahead and greet Vesren in hell first... I look forward to the day I see your face there before long!"
"How dare you—!"
It was the end of Athunga — the last of the Four Gang Lords to fall, and the one who had been their brain, ruling Pink Rose Street for decades.
He drove the bone dagger deep into his own heart and severed his own life.
"You little—!"
'That's to be expected. You truly took everything from that man... absolutely everything.'
Kaftin ground his teeth at Seakloy's calm assessment.
It wasn't enough.
He had intended to wash these hands — hands stained with his master's blood — in the man's life. And the man had slipped away from that in the most cowardly way possible.
No — it might still be alright.
There was still something left, wasn't there?
The thing that had been Athunga.
Seakloy's expression soured at what she heard from his mind.
She had known what kind of person he was — but still...
'Um... Kaftin?'
"It's 'Master' from now on. You'll address me that way going forward."
'What? Aren't we partners bound by a deal?'
"You're just a blood-sucking garment at the end of the day. Obviously this is a master-and-servant relationship."
'...That's terrible!'
Ignoring her grumbling, Kaftin slowly reached down and grabbed the collapsed Athunga by the hair, and began dragging him along.
Six months passed.
As planned, the new City Guard fortress was approaching completion.
Before the operation began, the organization's members — who had each been moving independently in the interim — gathered around a round table in the first-floor dining room of the inn where Conquere was staying.
"So then, Whispermere. Your thoughts?"
After consulting with Whispermere, Kaftin had decided to absorb her former information guild into the organization.
"Everyone seems largely in agreement, which is a relief."
"Then we proceed as planned. The flag — you passed it along properly?"
"Yes."
Kaftin nodded and turned his gaze to the Bulkro family.
"How are your sons doing?"
"...My — the medicine made from the note you gave me, after we started giving it to them, they improved greatly. They're eating well too... we're... satisfied."
He had been about to say you and hurriedly corrected himself — Kaftin let out a small smile.
"You can be informal with me. I'm the type who thinks only incompetent people need authority to move others."
"...Thank you."
Next, his eyes moved to Platt.
"How about you... the rats?"
"No problems. Following boss's orders, I've been going around the sewers and pulling in as many sewer rats as possible as allies. But..."
"But...?"
"Lately... there's been a strange figure wandering around the sewers, giving me trouble."
Platt wrapped his arms around himself, visibly getting chills.
Kaftin's brow moved with evident curiosity.
"If you call it strange, it's not someone ordinary."
"No... it was an unsettling one. Similar to boss in some ways — but very different too."
"...Concerning, but that's not what's urgent right now. We'll set it aside."
Kaftin waved a hand to table the matter, and Platt gave a nod.
Things were about ready, and they were on the verge of getting up from the table — when Maengseol, seated beside him, nudged Kaftin in the ribs with an elbow.
"Ugh. What is it, Uncle Maengseol?"
"...Why is no one asking me anything."
"Uncle Maengseol is someone who does everything right on his own without needing to be told."
"You could at least let me give a report, couldn't you? I am, technically speaking, one of your subordinates, Kaftin."
"...That's... fair enough."
He sat back down, and Maengseol cleared his throat and opened his mouth.
"As I declared to Kaftin — after taking the Night Fist Lord to pay respects at Vesren's grave, I have sent him to the hut where I used to live."
"......"
"It may take years — I don't know how many. But he will crawl back out eventually... and I will finish it then."
The other senior members shifted their eyes at the news that the Night Fist Lord was still alive, with visible unease.
Sensing the mood, Kaftin had been listening with his eyes closed — then struck the table with a flat slap.
"Everyone — no unnecessary worrying. This matter is one that Ho Maengseol, the finest hand-to-hand fighter in the Brash Brigade, has personally stepped forward to take responsibility for. The ones who would lose out are the ones who let it bother them."
"Well — I certainly recognize Maengseol's ability, but..."
"You're wondering whether the man might take a different path?"
"...Yes."
At Whispermere's worried question, Maengseol pointed to his nose.
"I intend to visit that hut regularly — and if he's not there, I'll track him by scent and... handle it."
"......!"
"So — consider the Night Fist Lord as good as gone."
Just as the meeting was wrapping up, a latecomer pushed through the door, raised a hand, and spoke.
"Hey there — sorry I'm late, is it already over?"
Crimson Tide.
Widely known as a woman of generous spirit — but ruthless to her enemies, enough that she was sometimes called Bloody Tide in a derogatory tone — she was a female pirate with something of a name for herself in the seas near the Maritime Kingdom.
Ostensibly to protect her crew, she had found herself under the umbrella of the Brash Brigade — this dangerous, reckless organization newly formed by this particular boss, Kaftin.
She stood there looking faintly apologetic about being late due to the time it took to sail in — and Kaftin, smirking, patted his own thigh twice.
"...Come here."
"......?!"
"...Hm?"
Every senior member at the table went still.
Kaftin was fundamentally gentle with women and children — but toward women in particular, he had a habit of making this sort of provocative little joke.
This particular one was more blatant than usual, granted.
"...You're serious?"
"Well now — who knows. The choice is yours, isn't it?"
"......"
He was laughing to himself, clearly teasing — and let his eyes flick briefly toward the chairs at the side table, signaling she should just go grab one for herself.
But this female pirate turned out to be considerably bolder than he had been accounting for.
"Hm... well then, don't mind if I do."
"What...?"
She dropped herself onto the thigh he'd been patting without a moment's hesitation — and every senior member flinched.
Even if he hated pretension and did whatever he pleased — surely that crossed a line, didn't it?
Even with how much of a gentleman he was toward women and children — in a situation like this...
On the other side of the table, Whispermere was feeling complicated in a slightly different sense.
For the security of her information guild and her own position as a senior member going forward, earning Kaftin's favor was something that mattered.
After considerable deliberation, she had decided she was prepared to go as far as a physical relationship to solidify her standing —
"W-wait just a moment. Tide? Even so..."
"What is it? I simply followed Captain Kaftin's orders."
She even cleared her throat and preened — then wrapped one arm around his neck and leaned into him — and Whispermere felt her lips going steadily drier.
Meanwhile, the face of the one actually receiving the attention was, as ever, a complete poker face.
"Interesting... noted. Your reaction just now, Tide. I think I can see how I should be dealing with you going forward—"
Squeeze.
Tide deliberately rubbed her chest against him — and Kaftin's expression froze by one more degree.
Registering that expression, Tide inwardly declared victory.
To the outside eye — a ferocious, utterly unscrupulous man who justified massacres under the banner of the perfect crime.
But underneath that was just another inexperienced young man with all the ordinary awkwardness that entailed.
The people skills she had built up from years of roughing it at sea with her crew — with those, moving this outrageous man however she pleased wasn't a hopeless dream.
He had single-handedly cut down three of the Four Gang Lords.
There was nothing to lose in getting close to him.
There was, however, one problem with her calculation.
Kaftin was someone who, once he decided something, did not look back.
His expression had been rigid and stiff for a moment — and then, at a certain point, it simply released.
The instant she registered the shift and went still, his hand moved naturally to support her — the excuse of steadying her — and wrapped around her backside.
"Oh...?"
"Hmph. You've got quite the appetite... you were planning to wrap me around your finger and pull me whichever way you wanted, weren't you?"
Kaftin murmured it quietly into her ear, pressed close — and the moment Tide flinched and tried to pull away, the grip on her tightened and held her in place.
"Wh-whoa...?!"
"Shh...! Going this far means you came with a certain resolve... I'll make sure to live up to it."
"......!"
And this was supposed to be the glazed look of an inexperienced young man?
Tide felt, for the first time, genuine regret about her decision.
The person in front of her — setting aside the question of experience, setting aside the question of age —
Was unmistakably a monster.
 
[NSFW Extra Episode 55.5 Opens]
—To be continued—