Chapter 8: No Bear-Human Hybrids Here (Sirin, Disappointed)

Peter burst into hearty laughter at Sirin’s words.

“Turning heads when trouble comes? You’ve got some fire in you. Shame Heres couldn’t pay the tuition.”

His tone was casual, as if he’d just bought radishes at the market.

Sirin narrowed her eyes at his attitude.

“…Old man. Someone died, and you’re acting like this? Are you really a priest?”

“Heres was trash. Even if you hadn’t done it, someone else would’ve beaten him to death soon enough, or he’d have gotten himself killed. And my faith’s more devout than it looks.”

Peter grinned slyly. Sirin was floored.

“What kind of faith says ‘good riddance’ when someone dies?”

“Haha, don’t misunderstand. Not ‘good riddance,’ but he reaped what he sowed. Anyway, that’s not the point.”

Peter’s expression grew serious.

“The point is you. And what’s coming next.”

He glanced out the window and continued.

“I heard the gist of it.”

His gaze returned to Sirin.

“There was only Heres’s body. The other mercenaries ran off, tails between their legs. They won’t leave you alone now. They’ll scream for your punishment.”

“What a sh*tty situation. He stabbed me first.”

“Sure, he attacked first. But…”

Peter paused, then tossed out casually.

“Don’t you share some blame?”

“My fault?!”

“Calm down.”

Sirin’s anger flared, but Peter, unfazed, spoke soothingly.

“I saw Heres’s body. Neck snapped clean, no other injuries. One clean, fatal blow. A true hidden-power beggar, huh?”

A beggar hiding strength. This old man was oddly trendy.

“You could’ve wiped out all the witnesses right there. I think you had the ability. Why didn’t you?”

“Old man, are you really a priest? Sounds like you’re encouraging murder… You don’t think I’m a killer, do you?”

Peter stayed silent, staring at her as if waiting for an answer.

Sirin took a breath.

His question was unexpected, but she’d vaguely thought about it last night.

Why did she let them live?

“Hm… I don’t know.”

She scratched her head, muttering.

“They were trash, hanging with Heres. Kicking old ladies’ stalls, scaring kids at the bakery… yeah. But… they didn’t come at me with a sword. They didn’t do anything bad enough to die for.”

“So you didn’t kill them because they didn’t wrong you?”

Peter asked.

“Well, that’s part of it…”

She recalled their faces.

Dumb, cowardly, pathetic, pale with fear.

“…I’m not a murderer. You didn’t see their faces, old man. They’re brainless idiots, but… maybe they could change their minds someday?”

She added, a bit embarrassed.

It felt unlike her usual self.

“…”

Peter stared at her silently for a long time.

His expression was hard to read.

Surprised, maybe, or intrigued by something new.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“I see. They might change.”

He echoed softly, his voice carrying an odd resonance.

“…Old man, that sounds like you’re setting up a plot twist. It’s creepy.”

His tone and look gave her an uneasy feeling.

“Way you’re talking, it’s like those guys are definitely coming for revenge. Nope, I’m gonna go snap their necks now—”

“Haha, you just said you’re not a murderer, and now you flip?”

Peter chuckled, cutting her off.

Suddenly, she sensed a commotion outside.

Peter said nonchalantly.

“Looks like they’re here.”

Roderick glared at his papers, but his attention was on the noises outside.

His prediction was spot-on.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the stone floor, stirring the peacekeepers.

The office door burst open.

A man in armor, exuding intimidation, stepped in.

Deep wrinkles marked a face weathered by countless battles. Anger simmered in his eyes.

Bjorn, the mercenary leader.

Bjorn strode to Roderick’s desk.

“Captain Roderick. My vice-leader was killed in your jurisdiction.”

Roderick stood to face him. They were similar in height, but Bjorn’s presence overwhelmed.

“Leader Bjorn. My condolences. But an investigation is underway. We’ll follow imperial law afterward. There’s also the possibility of self-defense…”

“Imperial law? Self-defense?”

Bjorn sneered.

“The empire delays our payment, and now you talk law? They ignored us when we risked our lives hunting beasts, but when a member dies, they wave the law?”

Bang!

He slammed the desk.

“Whatever my man did, he was murdered! In a brutal way, I hear! Are you shielding a killer? Does the peacekeeping force think we’re a joke?”

Roderick fought to stay calm.

Provoking this bear of a man wasn’t wise.

“Leader Bjorn. I heard you served in the imperial army. You know procedure is necessary.”

“…Don’t mention that name, Captain.”

Bjorn’s face twisted darkly.

“I abandoned that banner long ago. I learned shame, not glory, under it. Don’t lump me with those hypocrites!”

Roderick was caught off guard by the venom.

Bjorn’s imperial army past was known, but not his deep loathing.

Bjorn growled, unmasking his fury.

“Cut the nonsense and hand over that beggar girl. We’ll handle it our way.”

Roderick swallowed his retort.

Arguing principle was futile against Bjorn’s rage, but he couldn’t just hand over the witness.

“Damn, so noisy.”

An unexpected voice cut in.

“Raising your voice in someone’s office solves problems? Let’s talk.”

Sirin, somehow out of her cell, leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

The guard beside her looked lost.

Bjorn stared at her before speaking.

“So it was you. How dare—”

“Shh.”

Sirin pressed a finger to her lips, silencing him.

He bristled, but her next words froze him.

“Leader Bjorn. Sorry about Heres. But aren’t you secretly relieved?”

“…What?”

Bjorn stiffened, caught off guard. Sirin pressed on.

“I thought it was odd. Heres beat Mary and still strutted around like nothing. Plenty of your men owe Mary favors, don’t they?”

“…”

Bjorn hesitated, then raised his voice.

“What nonsense? Beating some whore is no issue!”

Sirin smirked.

These hopeless barbarians. No wonder their heads don’t turn right.

She sized up whether she could snap this bear’s neck.

But Bjorn’s neck, thick with muscle or fat, didn’t seem like it’d turn as cleanly as Heres’s.

This guy’s definitely on steroids. Or a bear-human hybrid?

She nodded.

In a barbaric fantasy world, bear-human sex wouldn’t be weird.

– …

She hoped for Insight, but no system message came.

Thick neck, no Insight. Useless jerk.

She was annoyed but decided to hold back.

Punching just because she was mad? That’d make her no better than Heres. A civilized person needed patience.

She took a deep breath and said calmly.

“…Right. In a civilized city where beating women is normal, no problem. But this is a backwater with barely any women.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Because of Heres, your whole crew might’ve lost Mary’s favors. So how did he keep causing trouble without consequence?”

Sirin hadn’t just sat idly in her cell. She’d been testing the Insight system.

She continued.

“You guys seemed like one crew, but your actions differed. Some played and drank moderately, then left. Others, like Heres, were total scum. You stuck with your own kind. There must be factions, right?”

She nodded, organizing her thoughts.

“When Heres’s goons chased me, not all your men followed. Some slipped off to your camp. Why?”

“…”

“Maybe not to fetch help out of fear of a beggar girl. So, another reason. Cleaning up Heres’s mess, right?”

Bjorn glared, but Sirin didn’t care.

“So you let Heres loose in the village. To cause trouble. Get arrested, or… maybe get food poisoning. Bad luck he ran into me.”

“…”

“I get it. A leader like you needs efficient management. Reforming a troublemaker’s harder than removing them. Right, Leader Bjorn?”

She drove the point home.

“Especially with payment distribution coming up.”

Ding!

[Your understanding of others has increased!]

[Deepen your understanding to gain Insight!]

Sirin nodded, satisfied, as Bjorn spoke.

“…Not bad for a beggar.”

She shrugged.

In her homeworld’s era, it was common knowledge that beggars were quantum-like informants. But these guys didn’t know that.

This world’s civilization wasn’t at that level, so she let it slide.

Her homeworld’s fantasy tech only surpassed that level a few centuries ago, so it was historically accurate.

“Even if you’re right, nothing changes.”

Bjorn’s expression shifted.

The furious warrior was gone, replaced by a cold businessman.

The change intrigued Sirin.

Look at this guy. Not every thick-necked idiot’s dumb?

He turned to Roderick.

“Don’t you get it, Captain?”

His eyes were no longer a beast’s.

They were those of a merchant calculating losses, or an administrator.

“Heres should’ve been punished by the peacekeepers or killed by me.”

Bjorn said tiredly.

“Heres was a Blade of the Herald member. He shouldn’t have been killed by some rootless beggar. These men are trash, but that’s why we protect their honor. Honor and pride are the leash holding these scum together.”

Tap!

He lightly struck the desk.

Unlike earlier, it was like a teacher addressing a distracted student.

“Don’t forget the practical issue, Captain.”

The practical issue. Why the mercenaries couldn’t leave.

“The empire hasn’t paid us. If we let this girl, who killed a member, go unpunished, I can’t guarantee how long I can control these angry men. Heres is dead, but his cronies are still here.”

“That’s…”

“Why keep ignoring the person involved? I’ve got opinions too.”

As Roderick tried to respond, Sirin cut in.

Bjorn glared, but she yawned boredly.

“Yawn. I don’t care about self-defense or imperial law. Leader Bjorn, I’ll handle Heres’s goons.”

“…How?”

She grinned.

Her clear eyes, visible above her mask, made Bjorn’s heart skip a beat.

“Trial by combat. Send all the vengeful ones at me. That’s your style, right?”

Her smile was irresistibly alluring.

“Suits my taste too.”