It took me less than four hours to become adept enough in the art of sewing to be able to fashion myself a new outfit. Of course, this practice was done at night after the brat had finally fallen asleep since I had to use her patchwork mess of a dress as a reference in order to sew anything.

After that whole zebra-rhino affair, she was so tired she could barely walk. This is why it was no challenge to remove the thing while she slept. The hard part was somehow getting it back on, once I had finished disassembling, and reassembling it a few times.

If she had been wearing something other than a dress, it would have been impossible, but for whatever reason, she was not. Now that I think about it, this brat does not wear undergarments… I suppose it is just not done in this Victorian-esque world. Apart from her, billowing bloomers abound.

However, it is kind of risque to wear nothing under your dress, not to mention unsanitary. Perhaps I will see about contriving something of the sort for both her and myself… Though I make no guarantee of quality. Alas, time is growing thin, so it will have to wait.

The brat slept soundly through the night, despite my machinations. The battle really took a toll on her endurance. But, as she was egregiously undernourished to begin with, it is no wonder. Then there is the [Black Corona]…

I surmise that the sooner this child is free from my presence, the better; For both our sakes…

“Oi, brat. Get the hell up.”

It is already 6:00 AM, so I do not wish to loiter around here much longer. As I am so far in the dark concerning the movements of the enemy, I would like to stay one step ahead. At least if I can help it.

“Mnngnn… Not a brat… Mnnngnnn…”

Hooo…? This is quite a cliche development. Her being wrapped up snugly under the covers, whilst I try desperately to wake her up. I am sincerely touched, I really am. In this kind of situation, I have just the response…

‘Toh!!’

“Guhaaa!! OWwwwwwwww!!!”

“Good Morning…”

“Good Morning!? What kind of sick lunatic assaults someone while they’re sleeping!?”

You are lucky I held back. Besides, I chose an area that only severely hurts, and avoids any lasting damage. Er, wait… Does that not sound like I am merely trying to hide the evidence…? Maybe next time I should use a bucket of cold water… Nah, that seems like too much trouble.

“I made breakfast. Eat it.”

“Eh? B-breakfast…?”

Apparently, breakfast is not an everyday occurrence for this urchin brat. She was almost certainly meant to occupy the third seat at that witch’s last meal, so perhaps I ruined quite an important event for her.

Well, she is an urchin child, so she must be used to such an austere lifestyle… Hmm… Not wasting food supplies on her would definitely make my provisions last longer... But I have already cooked the thing, so I would rather it not go to waste.

That said, it is only a bit of canned gruntt meat thrown on a sandwich, lightly toasted. This particular meat tastes like gamey ham with a bit of a pickle flavor. While I have no trouble stomaching the thing, it does have quite a sour smell, which is a bit off-putting.

If I had a better understanding of the herbs I have appropriated from that witch’s house, I could properly dress it up a bit. Just another one of the things I will have to work on, I suppose. There is no end to this to-do list.

“Hurry up… I want to leave soon.”

“Wait… You’re leaving? What are you talking about? What about Fort Wayfield? I’m going back to Fort Wayfield!”

“Heh…? Good luck with that.”

“What!? No! You’re the one taking me! We’re going back to Fort Wayfield, and you’re turning yourself in!”

Ugh… Not this again…

“Not happening…”

To blatantly order someone to turn themselves in… Is this brat an imbecile? What kind of criminal would simply agree to something so illogical? This world’s idealized sense of justice is far more than I can possibly take in.

“If you don’t go, then I will! And just so you know, I’ll tell them it was you, and everything else I know about you. You’ll never be able to escape…”

“[Command]. [Mute]!”

“…!?”

What a troublesome brat… Good thing I already saw this coming. As standard practice for the foreseeable future, whenever I use [Hypnosis] on a target, I will also apply a few additional safety measures, aptly named [Commands].

They are just simple things, like [Task] then [Release] to give them tasks, [Mute] to disrupt their ability to communicate, [Monitor] to erase my existence, [Rest] to shut down all of their unnecessary functions, essentially putting them to sleep, and [Refresh] to cancel all [Commands].

I have organized most of the language I will use in computer terms since they are far easier to remember that way. Additionally, a target will only respond to my own voice, so there is little chance of something unexpected happening.

Altogether, they will be an invaluable aspect of [Hypnosis], which makes it all the more important that I have the ability to use it on any pesky hazards. I have already got witches covered since I did manage to make an induction on that old hag. However, I have no way of testing the other two.

Would the fact that it works on my own consciousness count? If I can be considered what this world calls a “God,” then if I should use self-hypnosis, it would technically be the same. Hmmm… I am not fully convinced…

‘Slap!’

“Mm?”

Having silenced her annoying whining, I have been fruitfully ignoring her existence. As soon as she realizes that it is I who has stolen her voice, she quickly decides to retaliate with force. Though it may not particularly hurt to be slapped by such a frail child, it is rather annoying.

“It is unwise to tempt fate, br…”

‘Slap!’

This impertinent brat…

“Are you quite finished?”

‘Slap!’

…

“[Command]. [Task]!”

This is going to seem a tad harsh, but she has brought this upon herself…

“You will no longer willingly harm my being. Additionally, you will strive to gain my favor. My identity, and anything incriminating about me you may have, or receive knowledge of, is to remain confidential… Also, eat your breakfast.”

There, that should restrict her movements just enough to make my life easier, while not hindering her mobility. I do not want to cripple her free will, only dampen it; Though, knowing how much hatred she has for me, there is not much difference.

“[Release]!”

“Guh… Nn…? Nuh… NO!! Urrrrrrrrraaaa!!! Must, not…! No, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO…”

H-huh…? I think I have broken her… What a bother…

“[Command]. [Task]!”

If it is because she does not want to forgive the person who killed that witch, and ruined her life, then I will just have to compromise. Having her in this state would be of little applicable use to anyone.

“You will no longer compulsively strive to gain my favor. Simply keep my identity and incriminating information safe, and do not willfully harm my being. Everything else will continue as per usual. Oh… And eat your damn breakfast.”

I really do not wish for her to have the potential to attack me. But, considering how indestructibly resolute she is, I am not at all confident that this will work.

“[Release]!”

“Mnn… Breakfast…? Hmph! Like I need your stupid breakfast.”

I guess that can be considered promising. At least her wildly malfunctioning frenzy has ceased. I can still sense her deep animosity towards me and my breakfast. This is fine… I have a use for such feelings after all.

In spite of her complaints, the brat still sits down by the firepit, and scarfs down her gruntt sandwich. Choosing sustenance over grudge is all well and good, but her hatred is going to fizzle out if she keeps making concessions.

Should I find her to no longer be of practical value in regaining my emotional facade, I will leave her in the next town and try a more heuristic approach. Whether such a thing is viable or not, I am unsure, but I am not one to waste resources for no discernable purpose.

Anyways, now that I have finished sorting out that whole dilemma, I get to work cleaning the dishes, repacking my supplies into the coach, and getting ready to leave. Barring that something else bothersome should happen, I think I can make it to my next location by evening.

According to the map, the road to Graves intersects a little town called Bronzegate. As I am traveling on a side road, instead of the highway, I am left with two choices. I can either rest in town for the night, and continue in the morning, or skip Bronzegate altogether, saving myself a few precious kilometers in the process.

As much as I would rather not have to spend the night in such a crowded place, I am in need of a few bits and pieces, mainly for sewing. The clothier’s stash had most of the necessary equipment, but I have thought of a few additions I would like to add onto the [Raven’s Garb], which I currently do not have in stock.

Apart from that, I am also going to require a fair bit of money. I have various means of making said money; The most lucrative method being to steal it from a bank. Though, as this method is tedious and impractical, I will likely resort to something slightly more legitimate, like gambling…

Then again, do they even have gambling in this world? I hope so… It is not covered by their Code of Ethics, so they should have some form of it or another. Perhaps I will have to stoop as low as highway robbery? Speaking of which, it seems the first group of people I am to encounter on this side road, may be of the sordid variety…

An hour and a half on the road and I finally meet a vehicle traveling in the opposite direction. The coach is similar in structure to my own, but slightly larger, being drawn by two horses, rather than one. Apart from that, the coach is accompanied by a third horse, with a rider saddled upon it.

The fellow holding the reins is a gaunt skeleton of a man, who could easily be mistaken for a hospital patient undergoing treatment for some form of terminal illness. His counterpart, a hideously hairy, and ogreish brute, makes these two the obvious choice if one were to be looking to hire a couple of henchmen.

Acting as the rear guard is the horseman, who I assume is one of the so-called Therianthropes. While mostly human-like in appearance, his ears are floppy, and droop down, like a sad puppy. Nonetheless, his scarred face, his standoffish demeanor, as well as his overly muscular build, scream that he would rather not be messed with.

It is kind of anticlimactic for this distasteful barbarian to be the first Therianthrope I should meet in this world. Perhaps it would be best if I quieted this monstrosity, and pretend like it never happened… On second thought, that would be much too bothersome for this time of day.

Something about the body language they are projecting feels off. If I were to venture a guess, these fellows are either a gang of traveling bandits or smugglers of some sort. I do not want to have anything to do with them, so I am planning on letting them pass.

Now that I think about it, meeting these fellows really gives you that otherworldly journey vibe. Until you meet bandits on the road, the adventure is just not real enough… Although in my case, I am going to ignore them and continue on.

Those protagonists that make it a point to cut down any evil they should encounter, left right and center… It is all so tiring, you know? Having to make a scene whenever a lowly thief passes me would more than triple the amount of time it would take me to find Gwyn.

Besides, what right do I have to tell them off, when I am essentially a terrorist myself. It is utter hypocrisy…

‘Sigh’

“What now? You’re always sighing, sighing, sighing, all the damn time! You’re so depressing! What’s wrong with you?”

Thank you for your concern, but shut the hell up…

Fortunately, this brat has yet to notice that the oncoming party is of questionable motive. The last thing I need is for her to do something to rile them up and start some kind of commotion.

I wish I still had room in my cabin, so I could stuff her in it, and not have to listen to her sniping at me constantly. Those henchmen have the right idea; Keep the passengers in the cabin, where they belong.

Wait…

“Hey, hey! Look, look, Horrence! The girls in that cabin are all tied up! What’s going on? Are those men kidnappers?”

‘Tch’

The passengers must have heard that there is another vehicle on the road, because they push back the curtains, just as we are passing by. It is somewhat difficult to make out, but from what I can tell, they are a group of children, each bound at the wrists like slaves.

This is a surprise… One of the sections of the Code of Ethics covers slavery and forced enclosure. Which means that these fellows are purposely disobeying the Gods. This is the only possible way to describe this situation.

How brazen, to be kidnapping and human trafficking in a world like this, where the consequences incurred are as frightening as going up against someone with a power like mine… I pity this sorry lot.

Anyways, ignore them, ignore them… I would rather not pry into other people’s business. It is quite rude, you know…

“Hey, Horence! Did you hear me? Look over there. Look, I said!!”

“I see nothing…”

Please just leave it alone, brat. I do not have time for your naivety!

“Liar! Those men are clearly kidnappers! Why are you ignoring them, you bastard?”

You do realize that I am also one of those said kidnappers, right?

“None of my business…”

“Wha…!? None of your business? What’s that supposed to mean!? I can’t believe you… Fine! If you won’t help them, then I will!”

“[Command]. [Rest]!”

“Mn…!”

That was close… What kind of cheap plot is this imbecile trying to pull? What good is a brat like her possibly going to accomplish by picking a fight with three adult men? They are armed, you know…

I manage to put her to sleep before she does anything idiotic, but the long-eared bastard has definitely heard her babbling. Please just leave it alone, you sorry excuse for a watchdog…

“Eioh, traveler! Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say?”

“No…”

Pulling up to my coach, he keeps his horse synced alongside me, close enough that I can make out my own reflection in his glaring eyes. Whether I can talk my way out of this ordeal, or not, I just want this situation to be over and done with.

This bastard stinks… His aroma is like that of soggy, mangy, animal fur, mixed with a putrid body odor left untamed for weeks on end. The brat was bad, but this is absolutely blasphemous! I am going to throw up again…

‘Urp…’

Nope, I just swallowed it…

“I have no b-business… With yourselves.”

So take a hint and take your stench away, before I end up doing something I will most certainly regret.

“I heard tha’ brat there talkin’ ‘bout us like we’s some kinda kidnappers ‘r somethin’. We can’t just let somethin’ like that go; Not when we’s clearly a couple a’ fine gentlemen like we is.”

Ugh… His accent is giving me a migraine. Why do people like this not just go to school and learn to speak properly like everyone else? I do not want to spend precious time decrypting this gross injustice upon human language.

“She was just sleep talking… See?”

Taking the reins into my left hand, I firmly poke the brat in the nose. This is partly to show that she is sleeping and partly as revenge for getting me into this mess. Of course, she does nothing at my prodding, as she is essentially asleep after all.

“Hmph…”

The dog-man looks unconvinced. Are all kidnappers as feverishly paranoid as this fellow? The lethargic way they are portrayed in anime is almost retarded in comparison to this. At least now I know not to base any of my calculations concerning such things on unsubstantial quash.

“I know’s what I heard, and I heard ya talkin’ ‘bout our merchandise. Ya can’t pull one over on these ears.”

As he finishes his rant, I am partially expecting him to spit to one side, like in a spaghetti western. Instead, he visibly chomps his teeth, baring his sharp, grimy fangs in the process. How crude.

“Like I said… I have no need f-for some r-random traveler’s business…”

This is becoming tedious. Scurry along cockroach, and begone with you…

“An’ I said I can’t just let ya go, now can I?”

With that, he parts his heavy coat and unleashes a rather unwieldy pistol from his waistline, with brass accents that glint in the early morning sun. Less then a second goes by before the bastard fires a hefty slug, immediately piercing my temple through and through.

‘Pah!!’

What kind of idiot just shoots right away like that!? Where was the dawning moment where he reveals his pistol, the scene where I gaze upon the weapon in terror as I confront the end of my life, sullying all sense of dignity I once had?

This fool cannot understand the drama that goes into a death scene. The complicated structure and integrity have to be built up over time, with a final climax that buckles the foundations. Everything must crumble to the ground in an eruption of bountiful splendor.

Once again, I am left wanting when it comes to this poorly-trained, sorry excuse for a wet dog. His presence has become a hindrance to my quest. That said, I believe it is my solemn duty for him to be put down. That I do not regret this decision later is my only desire.

With the momentum gained from the bullet’s impact, I tilt my body forwards, and stealthily equip my knife. The action flows naturally, so it does not raise any suspicion from my assailant. Instead, he seems more interested in the brat sleeping next to me.

I had better be quick about this… This fellow has an itchy trigger finger.

“Toh!”

‘Pah!’

My left palm strikes the bottom of the barrel, causing the trajectory of the skillfully aligned shot to deviate. Though my primary objective is to prevent the bullet from finding its host in this unfortunate child, it also serves to open my opponent’s guard. Time for round two…

“Toh!”

One firm strike to the complex laryngeal structure, halting his breath and seizing his voice. If left alone, it is possible that this trauma could cause asphyxiation, but the chances are negligible.

“Toh!”

One strike to his mandibular bone from the left side, tilting the skull in further preparation, and from what I can tell, fracturing his jaw.

“Toh!!”

Finally, a potent strike with the butt of my knife directed between the temporal and sphenoid bones, dealing grievous damage; Though, tragically not with enough force for this to be instant, or painless.

The distance between us, as well as the awkward positioning, may have hindered me from cleanly breaking his spine, but with his brain having been so intimately introduced with his shattered skull, his death is now an inevitability.

If only I could just be on my way, now that I have dealt with this Therianthropic imposter. I have no qualms with those other henchmen-like fellows. Perhaps blatantly downing one of their entourage was a less than optimal solution. Although, he did shoot first…

Having noticed their associate limply dangling from his horse, the kidnapping caravan comes to a halt. Henchman A and B hastily leap from the driver’s seat to check on their merchandise, before walking towards my now stationary coach. They are still unaware of the whole situation, so there is some leeway when it comes to my next moves.

While I would prefer to just boldly leave them in the dust, the outcome of this action would bring little benefit. It is easily foreseeable that either of them could simply utilize this dead fellow’s horse to catch up. In that case, it is better to catch them by surprise now whilst they are unprepared.

Making sure no harm comes to my burden is my number one priority… My food, that is…

Currently, A and B are far enough away to be unable to hear my voice. Thus, to protect my precious supplies from any stray bullets, I have thought of a rather ingenious plan.

After some preparations, I retreat to the side of the coach opposite the incoming two brutes, both of which have drawn pistols from their waistbands. If their associate’s actions are of any indication as to how they should react to conflict, a direct confrontation is decidedly ill-advised.

Fortunately, I am skilled when it comes to stealth and subterfuge, so the plan should commence smoothly. If worse comes to worst, I can always go with “Plan B”. In which case, any witnesses will be dealt with accordingly…

As they approach what they now realize to be their fallen comrade, their grip tightens upon the pistols they wield. A tense silence covers the area, save for the grit from the dirt road, that crunches beneath their boots.

“Wha…!”

Suddenly, A small figure stumbles to the ground in front of the dead man’s horse. Upon entering the scene, the petite frame of the impoverished child’s body is immediately targeted by both loaded pistols. The only thing stopping them from firing being the unusual situation before them.

The child’s hair is long and white, with the color having been drained all the way down to the roots. Not only that, when the child stands and faces the two, her slender figure is scant any form of clothing. It is as if a delicate forest nymph has appeared before them.

When the girl finally notices her current want of attire, abashedly, she ducks to the front of the coach; away from prying eyes.

“Heh heh! Now, what do we have here?”

Letting loose a disgusting snicker, the brawny oaf turns back to his slimy eel of a partner, only to be met with confusion. Unbeknownst to him, while he had been ogling the meat I had placed as bait, I have disposed of his fellow coworker.

(This actually went quite well…)

“Your associate is dead…”

Hearing my voice behind him, he turns in surprise only to be disarmed before he can even fully understand the situation. The unappealing sound of shattered bone rings out, as his knee is kicked at an awkward angle.

‘Kkkraaaaaargh!!!’

I suppose that must have hurt… But still… This brute has an amazing lung capacity. My ears…

‘Pah!!’

With a resonating boom, his pistol, now in my own possession, empties its contents into the skull of the kneeling ogre. His hefty body topples towards the bullet's trajectory, leaving his snapped leg in an even more displeasing condition. Oh well, at least his wailing has been silenced…

“Much better…”

Taking a handkerchief from my pocket, I dust off the handle of the pistol and place it next to the ugly corpse of my victim; Not that such an action is even necessary in this fossil of a world.

Unlike the picturesque display from anime, the state of these corpses is grotesque manifestations, most unappealing to look upon. The gunshot wound oozes vile liquids, the bodies are twitching and drooling, and the bowels of all three have evacuated their contents entirely. This is the true face of death, that I am all too aware of. Just as it was on that day…

“I am sorry… Gwyn…”

(I should hurry up and leave…)

If I loiter in this place for too long, the Guild will catch up to me. I refuse to deal with any more useless events. Springing this bandit encounter upon me is enough for one day. Valuable time is being wasted.

(Hrmm… I feel like I am forgetting something…)

“HOOOORRRREEEEEENCE!!!”

“Ah…”

(That explains it…)

After denuding the brat so as to make her an appropriate distraction, I seem to have pocketed her wardrobe. It appears that she has deduced thus far. Alas, a necessary evil…

“Here…”

“Mu! Ahhhh! I knew it!!”

Raising her arms in some sort of furious gesticulation, the brat snatches the dress from my hands in a huff. It is blatantly obvious that this child is displeased, so it is in my best interest to diffuse this outburst at its source.

“I found it on the ground…”

“LIES!!”

Well, it was worth a shot…

“I can’t believe you. You used me as bait, didn’t you!? You fucking bastard!!”

“To protect my supplies…”

“Nng…!?!?”

Hmmm… That is absolutely not the answer she was looking for. The extreme rage I am sensing from this brat is a potent cocktail. Still, she wishes to hear neither truth nor lies… I am rather confounded.

“I apologize…?”

“Nk!?”

Nope. That just made things worse. This trial and error thing is not working in the slightest. How troublesome…

‘Sigh…’

Having lost any willingness to mediate this argument, I instead prepare myself to depart. What this fledgling brat thinks, is of little concern of mine, as long as it does not hinder my journey.

In the first place, the terms in which we met were of too dissonant a circumstance. There is little room to maneuver when faced with a wall of such fortitude. Not that I would even put in the effort to begin with, considering how little reward there is in it for me.

“Hurry up and get on…”

(Wait, where did that brat go now…?)

The few seconds while I turn my back to board the coach is all it takes for her to disappear. I sincerely regret taking that half-pint tyrant along with me…

As I hop off the coach to find out what kind of bothersome thing she has decided to pull now, I catch sight of the little devil meddling with the three dead musketeer’s cargo.

‘Tch!’

What kind of afternoon hero does this fool think she is!? If I had wanted to get mixed up in the business of other people, I would have graciously gone and saved those little nuisances myself! The fact is, I had specifically left them locked up on purpose.

How does this imbecile even think this is going to play out? I have no room for six dirty orphans in my coach, you know…

“Oi! What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing!? I’m helping these poor children. Not that I’d expect you to understand!”

“Is that so…”

This brat barely even stops to acknowledge my presence, just keeps fiddling with the keys she has apparently pilfered from one of the cadavers. The coach is obviously locked, and the key ring has enough keys on it for this to take a half an hour. Why would someone even need this many keys?

“You are wasting valuable time…”

Instead of a retort, I am simply treated to silence as a reply. How ironic… There is no benefit to saving these brats, but attempting to explain the futility behind the hope she is so desperately clinging to is a feat beyond my means. I cannot afford to wait here any longer.

Any fame or glory I might be rewarded with because of this would instead become a detriment towards my ability to move freely throughout this world. I want nothing to do with those kinds of heroic sentiments.

Being weighed down by one brat is more than enough to deal with as it is, let alone an additional six. It is just like I thought, there is no foreseeable benefit to be had in this situation.

“This is pointless…”

“How!? What is pointless about this? What’s so bad about wanting to save a couple of kids!? Whatever… I don’t care what you say, I’m saving them, whether you like it, or not!”

Or so she says… It appears that finding the correct key is not going as well as she had hoped. Perhaps she will get tired of it and give up… Somehow, taking who I am dealing with into consideration, that seems highly unlikely.

(Should I use [Task]? Hmmm… I have a bad feeling…)

This is just the kind of situation where I would expect that person to pull something. Mark that, there is no way they would let it slide. Let me think about this for a bit… Purely in a hypothetical sense…

If I were forced to save these brats, how would I even transport them? No matter how appealing it may sound, I cannot simply make them walk the whole way there. I might be able to fit a few on the roof, but there is only enough room for three at best.

One could ride on the side step if they were to stand the whole time. Another could probably sit up in the front with that brat and myself. That only leaves one… Nah, there is just not enough room…

‘Sigh…’

“Nope… No matter how I think about it, there is no way my coach could carry all these kids… Hmmm… I doubt any of them would know how to ride a horse either…”

“What are you mumbling about? Why can’t we just switch to the larger coach?”

“No… I do not want to draw any attention from any associates these fellows might have. Besides, it would take far too long to transfer all of my supplies from one coach to the other. The Guild is going to come looking for me at any moment, so I want to get as far away as I can in the meantime.”

“Why would the Guild be looking for you?”

“Because of what I did back in… Mn…!?”

…

Phew… That was close… I had apparently started thinking out loud there for a moment. This sneaky brat was playing along, so I even nearly let slip some confidential information. What a terribly dangerous habit.

Even if there would be no real problem, thanks to [Hypnosis], I would rather not play with fire if it can be avoided. Letting this child know about the fate of Fort Wayfield is an awful idea. Only bad things could come of it…

“No reason…”

“Lies! You’re clearly lying! What did you even do!? Why is the Guild after you, anyway? It can’t be because of Grandma Bee since nobody knows she even lived there. Was it because of those explosions?”

“Silence…”

The child’s spine shivers visibly, brought about by the graveness in my voice, while a glimmering crystal of sweat traces its way across her fair features. Her drive having been smothered, she returns to fiddling with the lock.

I will not pander to your misguided inquisitiveness, brat… Know this…

Now, where was I…? Ah, right. Hypothetically speaking, I cannot see myself being able to ferry these children to Bronzegate. This is beside the fact that doing such a thing would bring me whole hosts of unwanted attention.

Verily… Now that I have thought this through, my initial opinion on this matter stands; I refuse to take part in such a downright inane act of petty heroism. Illogical…

“[Command]. [Task]!”

It was obvious that this was coming. This brat’s pipe dreams are becoming a thorn in my side. So much so, that I am tempted to leave her here with this other useless fodder. However, I must curb this temptation, as it is not in my best interest.

“Cease this endeavor at once. You will not concern yourself with these children.”

There… Problem solved…

“[Release]!”

“{[C0mM4nD]!1 [T4sK]!1!}”

Eh…?

“{SaV3 tH3M!!1!}”

Ehhh!?

“{[Re1E4s3]!1!}”

(Whoa, whoa, whoa! What gives you the right to use my [Commands]!? Or rather, how does that even work!?)

This is an entirely unexpected development… Well, I cannot say it is entirely unexpected. But still, this brat has totally accepted the [Task] given by that demon-eyed girl, like it came straight from my own mouth. What the hell is going on?

(“You… What have you done?”)

“{Wh4T n3EdeD t0 B3 dOn3!!!1!}”

(“That… Wrong! I could not care less about why you did it. I want to know how someone like you is even able to give [Commands] in the first place?”)

Not only are you simply a figment of my imagination, but I have also specifically designated them to only respond to my own voice. Does that mean that it was me that gave the [Command] just then, without even noticing? I am utterly confused.

“{ImPr3s5eD!?1?}”

(“And now you gloat?”)

The tiny devil is sitting on the now empty driver’s seat, watching over the brat’s frantic display of heroism. I had been half expecting, and half dreading this turn of events, and sure enough, it has finally come to pass.

The fact that I could almost predict her arrival is a good sign. Once I am fully capable of foreseeing when she should appear, I can factor it into my calculations when I am planning ahead.

This demon child seems to only show up when I have to make some kind of moral decision. In that case, if I cut this choice out of the equation entirely, there would then be no chance for her to get in my way. A streamlined plan of action, void of any pesky flags.

What a dreamlike concept… Hehehe…

…

‘Sigh…’

In the meantime, there is no helping it. I do not feel confident going up against that little devil in this kind of situation. Should I just take this brat and run…? Hmmm… I sincerely doubt I would be let off the hook so easily.

Do I really have to accept this escort quest, no matter what? I cannot help but feel like I am playing right into somebody’s hands…

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…

“Fine…”

Removing the hidden knife from its resting place, strapped to my ankle, I raise it above my head in preparation. Standing here waiting while this idiot tries every single one of those damn keys would take ages, so I think I will try a more direct approach.

‘Cccrrraaack!!’

Using the butt of the blade, I smash the rusty-looking padlock as hard as I can, which snaps at the joint. The sudden act causes the brat, who is just about to try another key, to jump back in fright, letting out a small “ya!” sound at the same time.

“Wha…!? W-warn me if you’re gonna pull something like that, why don’t you! You almost gave me a heart attack, you bastard!”

‘Tch’

“Noisy brat…”

“Mu…! There it is again! How many times do I have to tell you? My name is Fern! Don’t call me a brat!”

If you do not want to be called a brat, then maybe you should try not to act like a brat… Though I would still call you it since you annoy me…

Ignoring the fuming brat, I finish removing the shattered remains of the lock, and yank open the coach door, revealing a group of ragged children. Each one of them is shoddily dressed, dirty, and appear to be undernourished. If I was going to be trafficking a bunch of kids around with me, this is certainly how I would envision their appearance.

Their pitiful forms are huddled together in fear, and they flinch from the sound of the door suddenly being yanked open. Since these brats have no idea who I am, they also have no bearing as to my motives, so to them, I could just be another villain come to ferry them to their dooms.

The fact that I am wielding a knife in my right-hand does not seem to be helping the matter… How bothersome… Just like I thought…