Lir, holding a lantern, followed Ron into the pitch-black alley. When she saw a bloodied man lying on the ground, she was immediately terrified and was about to scream.
Ron, having anticipated her reaction, quickly covered her mouth before she could make a sound. "Shh! Don't make a noise!"
Hearing this, Lir's eyes filled with tears as she struggled to calm herself and nodded.
Only then did Ron slowly release his grip and was about to bend down to lift the unconscious assassin when Lir, speaking in a pleading tone, begged, "Lord Ron, I didn't see anything, and I won't tell anyone. Please, just let me go!"
Ron was momentarily stunned by her words and quickly realized she had misunderstood the situation.
"It seems Lir thinks she's witnessing a robbery, which is why she's so scared. But she can't be blamed; anyone would misinterpret this scene."
Ron sighed, maintaining a gentle smile, and explained, "Miss Lir, don't worry. I won't harm you. The man on the ground is an assassin who attempted to kill me but ended up unconscious instead. I need to find a place to keep him because he's still somewhat useful to me. Coincidentally, you were passing by, so I asked for your help. I mean no harm."
Lir sighed in relief, patting her chest. "You want to bring him to my house?"
"Yes, but only temporarily!"
"My house is small but clean. However, this man is covered in blood. Bringing him there will surely make a mess. Besides, I'm a delicate woman and get dizzy at the sight of blood."
Lir looked worried.
"Two gold coins a day," Ron said with a sigh.
"Deal!" Lir immediately agreed with a cheerful smile.
Ron chuckled softly, carried the assassin, and followed Lir back to her home. Fortunately, Lir's house was just a few steps away, and they arrived quickly.
Ron laid the assassin on the bed and tied his wound tightly with rope to prevent excessive bleeding. Then he went to the kitchen, heated a knife until it was red-hot, and pressed it against the wound. The peculiar smell of searing flesh filled the room as the wound was crudely cauterized.
The assassin, startled by the intense pain, let out a scream before fainting again.
Seeing the man regain consciousness and then pass out immediately, Ron felt relieved. He asked Lir to fetch some sewing needles and thread and began to stitch up the assassin's wounds. This was his first attempt at such a procedure, learned from TV shows, emphasizing quick bleeding control over appearance or potential complications.
As long as the assassin stayed alive for now, that was enough. Ron was confident the assassin wouldn't die easily. After all, he had seen an extraordinary mentor at the academy who survived being cut in half. This assassin had only minor injuries compared to that.
After finishing the task, Ron breathed a sigh of relief and looked at his work with a blank expression. It wasn't bad!
Meanwhile, Lir, having been terrified and pale, trembled, especially at the peculiar smell of the seared flesh. She was on the verge of throwing up.
"R… Ron… Sir, how old are you this year?" Lir suddenly asked.
"Sixteen," Ron answered casually while searching the assassin.
"Oh!" Lir's teeth began to chatter.
Ron didn't notice Lir's distress and continued his search. He found only a deck of cards, a plain white mask, and a pouch of money. He glanced at the pouch and saw it contained ten gold coins and some silver coins. Initially intending to keep it for himself, Ron looked at Lir and handed it over to her instead.
"I'm sorry for making a mess of your place. This is compensation."
Lir, who had been nervous, looked at the pouch with delight after receiving it. "Are you really giving it all to me?"
Ron nodded, "Yes! And the two gold coins I promised you will also be delivered."
Hearing this, Lir's trembling stopped, her face brightened, and she stood straighter. She genuinely admired him, "You're such a good person!"
Ron smiled, "It's what you deserve. Please keep an eye on this man while I clean up the scene."
"Ah! No, no! What if he wakes up and starts shouting after you leave?" Lir was alarmed.
"Don't worry! I've severed his tendons, so he's effectively incapacitated. Just keep your distance, and you'll be fine."
Ron added, "If he does wake up and starts shouting for help, just ignore it. Let me know when I return."
"Okay, I understand! But if he shouts, won't that attract trouble, like his accomplices?"
Ron didn't answer directly and said, "Just stay calm. If he starts shouting, it means he's resigned to his fate and not worth interrogating. I'll deal with it."
With that, Ron bid farewell to Lir, took a bucket of water and a cloth, and rushed out to clean up the scene.
In the alley, Ron used his keen senses to meticulously clean up the fight's aftermath. Bloodstains were manageable with water, but the severed hand was more challenging.
"What if someone finds the hand in the sewer and recognizes it, or if the assassin's organization discovers it? Even if the chance is slim, it's still a possibility!"
Ron decided to chop the hand into small pieces with dozens of sword strikes, including the bones, then wrapped the pieces in rags and tossed them into the sewer.
After ensuring everything was in order, Ron returned to Lir's home.
"How is he? Did he wake up?" Ron asked as soon as he saw Lir.
Lir shook her head, "No!"
Ron entered the room, checked the assassin to confirm he wasn't pretending, and then relaxed. The relaxation made him feel an overwhelming fatigue, and he sank into a chair, not wanting to move.
With the immediate tasks done, Ron finally had time to observe Lir's room. Noticing a wedding portrait on the wall, he furrowed his brow. "Was your husband a soldier?"
Lir, bringing Ron a cup of hot water, glanced at the portrait and gave a bittersweet smile. "Yes. My husband died on the battlefield a few years ago, just two months after our marriage."
"Uh!" Ron felt awkward, "I'm sorry for bringing up your sorrow. But I don't understand why, as a soldier's widow, you still do such work when the army should provide a pension."
Lir sneered, "A pension? Yes, I used to get three silver coins a month. But with today's prices, that barely covers food. I used to complain about the amount, but later realized it was actually quite high. Now, I get only forty copper coins a month, and it might decrease further."
"That's impossible!" Ron was puzzled, "According to imperial law, the families of deceased soldiers receive at least fifteen silver coins per month based on the soldier's rank. Why are you only getting forty copper coins?"
Lir sighed, "Law is one thing, but its execution depends on people."
"So, someone is embezzling the pension? That's incredibly bold!" Ron was shocked. He knew corruption existed everywhere but couldn't believe someone would dare to embezzle pensions, shaking the very foundations of the state.
"Is there anything people won't do for enough profit? I'd do it too if the reward was substantial."
Ron was left speechless.
"This country has become so corrupt. It seems I need to secure my own territory quickly, or I might end up as cannon fodder on the battlefield, even if I'm not assassinated."