Chapter 18: A Bandit’s Fall and a Muscular Reckoning

“Boss! Boss!!!”

“What’s with the racket, Paul? Didn’t I tell you not to make a fuss over nothing?”

“This time it’s really important, I swear on my junk!!!”

“Sigh, what good is that pathetic junk of yours… Fine, spit it out.”

Roused from a deep sleep by his subordinate’s urgent voice, the bandit leader slowly sat up.

Swearing on his junk? Just how critical was this news to warrant such a claim?

Intrigued, the boss fixed his gaze on his underling, ready to listen.

“Well, uh… it’s about those Valery punks we always brawl with…”

“Oh, those scrawny bastards? What about ‘em?”

“They… they got completely wrecked by an adventurer party yesterday. Totally obliterated, I heard…?”

“…Sounds like some tough guys showed up.”

The news was far graver than expected, making the boss scowl.

Was a bounty hunt ordered?

No, that didn’t add up. The lord wasn’t the type to issue a bandit extermination order, as far as he recalled.

After a moment’s thought, the boss tossed a question at his anxious subordinate.

“Did the Valery punks pull some crazy stunt lately? Like killing a noble or something?”

“No, no! I’m pretty sure they haven’t done anything like that in months! Just collecting tolls as usual…?”

“Strange. If they were just collecting tolls, they shouldn’t have gotten smashed like that.”

Why were they crushed?

No one gets obliterated for no reason.

Pondering the cause, a sudden wave of unease prompted the boss to issue a sharp order.

“Paul, tell the boys to prepare to move our base.”

“Right now, sir?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a bad feeling. If we don’t move now, we’re definitely screwed.”

His gut had never steered him wrong, and that uncanny instinct had made him the leader of a massive bandit crew.

Certain his intuition would hold true again, he started packing, shoving gold and treasures into bags, breathing a sigh of relief.

“We’ll move as soon as we’re ready.”

This would blow over without a hitch.

Thanks to his killer instincts, he’d dodged most dangers so far.

But as if mocking his confidence, the moment he finished packing, a deafening explosion shook the camp from outside.

BOOM!!!

…His gut, wrong?

Bewildered, the boss grabbed his prized weapon and rushed outside, only to freeze at the sight of his precious stronghold engulfed in panic.

“Too soon? What the hell’s going on?”

As the boss, still dumbfounded, began to grasp the situation, someone in a drab robe and witch’s hat appeared before him.

“Pretty shaken up, huh?”

A soft yet seductive voice snapped him out of his daze.

Gripping his weapon tightly, he glared at the witch.

“Is this your doing, you wench?”

“Hmm, not exactly. I was just watching from the sidelines.”

“You damn bitch…”

Crunch!

Grinding his teeth and roaring, the boss quickly reined in his emotions.

Even if caught by an ogre, keeping a clear head could save you.

Offer what they want, bide your time, and swear revenge for this humiliation.

With that resolve, he cautiously questioned the witch.

“Why? What’s your goal in pulling this stunt? Got a grudge against our crew?”

“Nope, no grudge. Just here for supplies.”

“What?”

Who in their right mind raids a bandit crew for supplies?

Stunned into a hollow laugh, the witch’s eyes crinkled as if the timing was perfect.

“Hand over everything you’ve got, and I’ll let you live. Sounds like a good deal, no?”

From that pretty mouth came a chilling threat.

The reason for heading to the west was simple.

It was the farthest from the theocratic east, where witch persecution was minimal.

Plus, it was the least oppressive place, making it the easiest to live in.

Sure, the heavy burden of freedom’s responsibility was an issue.

But that could be resolved once I got it, so it wasn’t a huge problem.

Honestly, the north was slightly more appealing for stability, but since the protagonist skipped it to head straight for the Great Forest, going north felt like living with a ticking time bomb, so I gave up on it.

Anyway, cutting to the chase, on the road from the south to the west.

After a cheerful first day, the party discovered a major issue the next morning during breakfast.

Food was running out way too fast.

Couldn’t we ration it? Impossible.

Four out of six were muscle-bound meatheads who didn’t give a damn about the future.

So I started thinking.

How do we solve this looming food crisis? Could we finish this journey without starving?

That’s when I came up with the idea of raiding a bandit crew.

…Not that it was my first choice.

I genuinely wanted to gather supplies from nature.

Stirring up a butterfly effect by messing with bandits could lead to unpredictable consequences.

And after the exhausting battles in the Great Forest, I wasn’t eager to fight more.

So I planned to hunt beasts or take meat from attacking monsters to secure food.

But was it karma from the Great Forest chaos?

Nature gave us nothing, and our food dwindled rapidly.

Six people, four of them gluttons.

At this rate, we’d inevitably hit a food crisis, so we made the call.

We had to raid a bandit crew.

That led to this situation.

A bandit leader fighting to protect his valuables against a group of adventurers out to plunder everything.

It felt like our roles were reversed, but I didn’t feel guilty.

The food we were taking was probably stolen from others anyway.

Smiling as I made the offer, the bandit leader fixed a murderous glare on me.

With a twisted grin, he slowly summoned his aura.

“Hand over everything, and you’ll live… You mean that?”

“…”

“Spouting that nonsense at this distance? You’ve got some guts. Think I can’t drag you to hell with me?”

“Dunno, looks like you can’t.”

Because someone’s charging at you right now.

“You bitch!!!”

Roaring, the boss lunged at me with startling speed.

But in his rage-fueled charge, he failed to notice.

The muscle-bound elf attempting a body tackle from the side.

WHAM—!*

“Gah…!”

Like being hit by a truck, the boss trembled in pain. The elf, Veldum, shook his head.

“What a frail body. I hit him with unhealed muscles, and he’s like this… Pathetic. All water weight.”

“…How do you even tell?”

“When I hit, I felt a softness that shouldn’t be there. High body fat percentage. He’s been training wrong.”

“This is driving me insane.”

Clutching my forehead at the dizziness, I watched as Veldum grabbed the boss’s hair.

Growling fiercely, he began torturing the man.

“Now, I’ll teach you proper training methods.”

“Urgh… Gah…”

“He’s not getting it. An unhealthy body houses an unhealthy mind.”

“M-Mercy… please…”

Eyes filled with fear, the boss struggled to pull something from his pocket.

A vial emitting an ominous gray aura.

Even to the untrained eye, it looked sinister. Undeterred by the crazed elf looming over him, he gulped down its contents.

Soon, his muscles began swelling rapidly.

I’ve seen that before. Where was it?

I racked my brain, but the urgency to stop him overpowered my memory.

Whatever, I’ll figure it out after dealing with him.

It’s a rule: take out the villain before they power up. I raised my cleaver to throw, but—

“Wait, witch. There’s something I need to check.”

Veldum stopped me, closing the distance to the boss.

“Ho.”

Unfazed, Veldum stood calmly, giving the boss time to transform.

Curious, he poked at the swelling muscles, his eyes gleaming with admiration.

“Oh…!”

Did he not care how this looked?

He prodded and squeezed the boss’s changing muscles, exclaiming in awe. After the transformation finished, he clapped enthusiastically.

“Impressive. On the surface, these are near-perfect muscles.”

[“Die… you lunatic…!”]

“But.”

Casually blocking a heavy punch, Veldum muttered in a disappointed tone.

“They’re just roids.”