Chereads / The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations / Chapter 92 - CHAPTER 92: Was that today? (2)

Chapter 92 - CHAPTER 92: Was that today? (2)

Ghislain remembered the name Crank very clearly.

Every time Claude drank, he cursed the man who'd cut off his wrist.

But to think that today would be the day!

"This is urgent, so take me to that guy Crank right now. I'll reward you handsomely."

At this, the employee made a troubled expression and shook his head.

"I have to work. Perhaps you can find someone else to guide you…"

"Hey, nobleman. Seems like you're from another town—why are you looking for our boss?"

At that moment, a mocking voice from the next table interrupted the employee's words.

Ghislain slowly turned his head.

Three thugs were lounging around the table.

They were the ones who'd been tidying up the area just a moment ago.

Ghislain approached the thugs and spoke quietly.

"I need to meet your boss immediately."

"Who are you to ask us to guide you to the boss so recklessly? We don't even know who you are."

"It's urgent. I'll reward you well."

"Well, if it's so urgent… maybe if you pay up for the errand first, we might make it happen. That's the custom around here."

The man sitting in the middle of the three made a circle with his fingers and waved it around.

Ghislain took out a gold coin from his pocket and tossed it.

"Move quickly."

A hint of killing intent began to appear in his eyes, but the thug, not noticing, held up his fingers again.

"Oh my, since you're already spending, why not spend a bit more? Things are a bit pricey around here."

The other two thugs chuckled in agreement.

Swish!

"Huh?"

In an instant, something flashed by, and the man's wrist was swiftly severed, dropping onto the table.

"Ahhhh!"

The man screamed in pain, rolling on the ground, as blood splattered across the table.

"Know when to stop with the jokes."

Ghislain sheathed his sword.

The men on either side of him, startled, tried to get up, but the mercenaries were faster.

Bam!

Both of them were pushed back down, their faces planted firmly on the table.

"Wh-what are you doing…"

The man with the severed wrist stumbled backward, his face pale.

Ghislain grabbed him by the neck.

"Where did you take Claude?"

"T-to the slaughterhouse! On the outskirts of Auston! They took him not long ago!"

Thud!

Ghislain plunged his sword deep into the man's shoulder.

"Aaaahhh!"

"Lead me there. If Claude's wrist is severed because of any delay, I'll kill all of you."

Ghislain dragged the man out by his collar.

The thug trembled, pointing in the right direction, and Ghislain began walking at once.

Before long, the group entered a grimy outer area, little better than a slum.

Unlike the bustling tourist district, this place was filled with rundown bars and rough-looking men.

As they neared a particularly large building, the man Ghislain had dragged along began shouting.

"Enemy! Enemy! Help me!"

A dozen or so rough-looking men lounging around in front of the building immediately stood up, gripping their weapons.

They didn't seem interested in checking who the intruder was.

"Get him!"

As the thugs charged, Ghislain threw the guide to the ground.

"Gillian, subdue them all. I'll decide whether to let them live or die after I assess the situation inside."

"Understood. Take care."

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

***

Carcasses of animals hung throughout the slaughterhouse.

The stench of animals and blood filled the air.

Crank, the gang leader, cracked his neck from side to side, smirking.

The thought of wielding an axe again made his heart race.

In front of him sat a man in his late twenties, bound to a chair.

Despite his shabby and weary appearance, his face exuded intelligence.

Known around Auston as the "dumb genius of the gambling den," he was exactly the person Ghislain had come to find—Claude.

Even with an axe aimed at him, bound and unable to escape, Claude's gaze held not fear but exhaustion.

Claude spoke, his voice weary and cracked, echoing through the warehouse.

"Who put you up to this?"

"No one put me up to anything. You got caught trying to pull a fast one. I'm just here to chop off your wrist as the law demands."

Claude snorted derisively.

"I didn't cheat. Not much of a king of the back alleys, are you? I guess you don't have the guts to tell the truth?"

"You little…"

Crank gritted his teeth.

It'd be less aggravating to get this done quickly and toss him aside.

"Hey, bring me the axe."

An underling approached with a hatchet.

Crank pointed at Claude's wrist.

"Cut it properly."

"Where?"

"Where do you think… Never mind, give it here."

Crank snatched the axe from the underling and nodded.

"If you kneel and beg now, I might settle for a few fingers."

Yet Claude remained utterly unphased, still scowling at Crank with irritation.

"If you're going to cut it, cut it already. I don't feel like chatting with a guy like you."

"All right, once I take off one part, that mouth of yours won't run anymore!"

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

"Enemy! Enemy! Help me!"

At that moment, loud shouting erupted from outside.

Crank frowned and looked toward the warehouse entrance.

"What's going on? Go check outside."

His subordinates bowed and were about to leave, but they didn't need to.

Bam!

The door burst open as Ghislain stormed into the warehouse.

He quickly scanned the area, spotted Crank, and pointed at him.

"If you move, you die. Stay right there."

One thug blocked Ghislain's way, shouting.

"Do you even know where you are? You bastard!"

The thug lunged forward with a dagger.

But Ghislain wasn't someone to be fazed by such a clumsy attack.

He casually reached out and grabbed the dagger.

Crunch!

The dagger shattered to pieces, and the thug's face twisted in shock.

"What the—this is unfair! Who shatters a dagger with their bare hands?!"

"Someone like me, apparently. Now sleep."

Bam!

With a casual swat, Ghislain flung him aside like an insect.

The thug flew into the wall, his nose and teeth smashed.

Crank shouted in desperation.

"What are you all doing?! Attack him at once!"

The dozen thugs in the warehouse charged simultaneously.

Ghislain extended his hand, glaring at them.

He had no intention of dealing with them individually; time was too precious.

Click!

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

Crack!

"Aaaagh!"

As Ghislain clenched his fist, the thugs' limbs twisted and they collapsed to the ground.

"What… what are you?!"

Crank, his face pale, stumbled backward.

He'd seen his share of horror in his life, but never anything like this.

"A mage?"

He fought like a knight, yet no knight could perform such a twisted technique.

Claude, who'd been forcing himself to keep a neutral expression, also widened his eyes in surprise.

Even after years of seeing knights and mages at the academy, he'd never seen such a skill.

As Ghislain approached, Claude, watching him closely, asked.

"Did you come to save me?"

"Yes."

"But why? We're strangers."

"Let's just say we're going to get to know each other."

Claude scowled, as though he'd seen a madman.

Ghislain chuckled, freeing Claude from the chair.

"I'm Baron Ghislain Fenris of the Lutania Kingdom. Just call me Ghislain."

At that moment, Crank, who had been watching in a daze, stammered and interjected.

"A foreign noble… What are you doing here? Even as a noble, you can't just do as you please."

But Crank himself doubted that this man would care to listen.

Everyone knew about the unspoken agreement among nobles to avoid causing trouble in Auston, as it was a shared playground for both nobles and commoners alike.

But this guy had stormed in here without a second thought.

Would he really listen if Crank told him to stop?

Crank was right.

Ghislain answered casually.

"I'm taking Claude with me."

"H-he tried to cheat. The law here is to cut off the wrist of a cheater."

"Don't push your luck. You think I came here without knowing anything?"

Ghislain had heard Claude's complaints about his unfairly severed hand more times than he could count.

Crank glanced nervously at the shattered doorway outside.

His men were either down or kneeling.

As he struggled to figure out what to do, Ghislain approached and firmly grabbed his shoulder.

"Since I'm in a good mood today, I'll be leaving. And since Claude's wrist is still intact, I'll leave your necks attached as well. That's a fair deal, isn't it?"

His cold gaze met Crank's.

"Y-yes, I understand."

Crank, trembling, nodded repeatedly.

He'd risen to his current position through bloodshed and could instinctively tell that this man was beyond his capacity to handle.

"Quick to pick up on things. Good."

Ghislain smirked, pulling out a few gold coins from his pocket and placing them in Crank's hand.

"For your men's medical bills. Use the rest to get yourself a drink."

"…Thank you."

Terrified, Crank slowly backed away.

It looked like Ghislain was about to leave, but then he suddenly grabbed Crank by the collar and yanked him forward.

"Wh-why are you doing this again?"

Ghislain leaned close, whispering into Crank's ear in a deadly voice.

"Stop watching us. We'll be gone soon."

Crank, drenched in cold sweat, nodded desperately.

Only then did Ghislain release his grip, giving Crank a satisfied pat on the shoulder.

"You've worked hard. Take care."

"Th-thank you. Safe travels."

Claude glanced back at Crank as he followed Ghislain out.

It was the first time he'd seen Crank, the strongest thug in the back alleys, this terrified.

Quickly shaking off his thoughts, Claude hurried to follow Ghislain closely. He had barely escaped having his hand cut off—getting involved in something strange again was the last thing he wanted.

As he breathed in the fresh air outside, the reality of his release sank in.

Claude bowed his head to Ghislain.

"Thank you for saving me. But… Why go to the trouble of saving someone like me? Someone who's hardly worth the effort?"

At Claude's self-deprecating words, Ghislain looked closely at his face.

Dull, lifeless eyes, a weary and powerless expression.

He looked like a dead tree.

It was the look of someone who had given up everything and lost all will to live.

Ghislain remembered the day he first met Gillian. Back then, Gillian had worn exactly the same look.

Before Ghislain could respond, Claude spoke again.

"Actually, it doesn't matter what your reason is. Since it's come to this… can you buy me a drink?"

[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]

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