Part 9: Guardian (3)

The next afternoon, the tavern was quiet.

It wasn’t mealtime, nor was it an ideal hour for drinking.

With no customers around, Carl and Aiden busied themselves cleaning the first floor. Carl swept the floor with a broom, while Aiden followed behind with a damp cloth.

The areas they passed over became spotless, gleaming under the light.

“Someone’s coming. Great timing. We just finished cleaning.”

“Who is it?”

Carl wasn’t particularly surprised. He already knew Aiden’s abilities were far from ordinary.

“It’s your third priority.”

Almost as soon as Aiden finished speaking, the door swung open with a bang.

A middle-aged man entered, one sleeve of his coat hanging empty.

“……”

“……”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Their gazes met. Memories resurfaced. Emotions collided.

The first to move was Carl.

He rushed forward and pulled Victor into a tight embrace.

“I’d rather die than hug another man… but I’ll make an exception today.”

“You really came back!”

“What, did you think I was a ghost?”

“No. I thought you were undead.”

“You sure know how to greet an old friend.”

They stepped back, laughing at the same time.

Victor’s laughter was hearty, while Carl’s carried a tinge of emotion.

Carl’s eyes flickered toward Victor’s missing right arm.

“What happened to your arm?”

“A damned orc got me. But I don’t feel too bad about it—his head rolled right after.”

“I’m asking why you got caught by an orc in the first place.”

“You know Zeke, the guy who runs the general store? He got injured, so I was looking after him when an orc ambushed us.”

It was exactly as Carl had expected.

Victor had lost his arm saving someone he knew.

Should he call it admirable?

Or just plain foolish?

Was it foolishly noble? Or nobly foolish?

Carl smacked his lips, tongue twisting as if struggling to find the right words.

“At least I survived. I got first aid in time, and a healing spell patched me up. Plus, Zeke promised to cover all my clothing expenses for life. Not exactly a bad deal.”

“You and your jokes… Let’s sit down and catch up properly.”

The two moved to the bar counter and continued their conversation over beer.

From a seat by the window, Aiden observed them closely, ears tuned to their words.

Friends.

What was the point of having them?

As an assassin, Aiden had always been skeptical of friendship.

First, a friend was just a potential traitor waiting to turn their back on you.

Second, a friend was…

Nothing more than a relationship wrapped in pretty words, formed for mutual benefit.

But watching Carl and Victor…

It didn’t seem to be just that.

They looked like two halves of a whole.

As if they completed each other.

Carl and Lyra.

Lucy and Cheese.

Master and Mugin.

One by one, Aiden recalled the people he considered precious. The ones he could call his friends.

Then, he imagined them losing an arm.

A strange heaviness pressed against his chest, as if chains had wrapped around his heart.

His own arms were fine, yet he felt a phantom sense of loss, as if it had been his own limb that was missing.

Was this what ordinary people called empathy?

“I hear the tavern’s been doing well lately.”

“Ever since Aiden joined, profits have soared. He’s a real lucky charm.”

“If business is good, hire me. The barracks won’t take me like this.”

Victor had been a salaried soldier in the lord’s army.

Until recently.

Until he lost his arm.

“Of course. That’s a given.”

“Heh. Money really does make people generous.”

“Aiden, what do you think?”

“That’s fine by me,” Aiden nodded.

“By the way, can I borrow Victor for a while?”

“Huh? Why?”

“I want to give him a gift. An arm.”

*  *  *

“What do you mean by ‘giving me an arm’?”

The moment they stepped out of the tavern, Victor turned to Aiden with a puzzled look.

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

“You mean getting me a prosthetic?”

“Yes.”

“Prosthetics are useless. They’re ugly and uncomfortable.”

“That depends on what kind you wear.”

Aiden shrugged.

“Tch. I don’t know what you’re planning, but I appreciate the gesture. Still, why are you helping me? We only just met.”

“Anyone important to Mister Carl is important to me.”

Aiden’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact.

If Carl was sad, then Aiden would be sad too.

And if Carl was happy, then maybe… Aiden could feel that happiness as well.

What Aiden didn’t realize was that, little by little, he was inching closer to something resembling normalcy.

As they crossed the town square, a group of soldiers approached from the opposite side, strolling with a relaxed swagger.

“Never seen those guys before. Must be rookies… but damn, they’re sloppy.”

“They’re not from our territory. Look closely at their armor insignia.”

“Hmm… You’re right. They’re from another domain. But why…?”

“The second orc subjugation must be starting sooner than expected. The lord must have requested reinforcements after the last defeat.”

“……!”

Victor stared at Aiden with wide eyes.

Aiden’s keen observational skills and sharp judgment were astounding.

It had only been five seconds since they encountered the approaching soldiers.

Yet, in just those five seconds, Aiden had deduced not only which territory the soldiers belonged to but also the lord’s intentions.

“You really weren’t lying when you said you used to be an assassin, huh?”

“I don’t lie often. If I do, it’s usually by not saying anything at all.”

“Anyway, where exactly are we headed? There’s no place in Centum that sells prosthetic arms, is there?”

“There’s one. A place only I know.”

They passed by the soldiers from another territory.

The place they entered was none other than Bellato’s General Store.

On the surface, it was just an ordinary shop.

But behind that facade, it was one of the few branches of the Abaris Trading Company on the entire continent.

“Welco—……”

Bellato flinched the moment he saw Aiden.

To Bellato, Aiden was the very embodiment of trauma.

After all, it was Aiden who had beaten him in an arm-wrestling match, despite him being a Fist Master.

“Welcome.”

“You didn’t think I’d come back?”

“I figured you might. I just had a bad feeling about the reason for your visit.”

Bellato eyed Aiden warily.

The first time Aiden visited this shop, he had given Bellato a stern warning:

Run his business properly.

If he ever harmed Centum, Aiden wouldn’t let it slide.

“I’m here as a customer today.”

“A prosthetic arm commission?”

As expected of someone from a secretive trading company, Bellato’s gaze swept over Victor in an instant, already making mental calculations.

“You’re ordering the highest-grade prosthetic we can offer.”

“The price won’t be cheap.”

“How much?”

Instead of answering, Bellato spread his right hand wide.

“Aiden, let’s just leave. That price is insane. He’s asking for 5 gold! Five gold coins for a wooden arm? That’s a scam!”

“He’s asking for five gold bars.”

“F-five gold bars? Are you insane? Even the lord wouldn’t be able to afford that! Do you even plan to do business in Centum?”

Victor practically shouted, his cheeks flushing red in disbelief.

“There’s nothing more to discuss. Let’s go! This damn crook has no place in Centum!”

But Aiden simply shook his head.

Extending his arm, he pushed Victor back slightly.

“Is the quality guaranteed?”

“Of course. No exaggeration—this prosthetic will be better than your original arm. It looks exactly like a real one, moves even more naturally, and even has a built-in mana circuit.”

“……”

“If you buy it now, I’ll throw in Fire Arrow and Fireball functions as a bonus.”

“W-what? Do you think this is some kind of fantasy novel? Where in the world does a prosthetic like that exist?”

“You must not know much.”

Bellato’s previously mild expression turned ice-cold.

“Across the continent, there are items in circulation that you can’t even begin to imagine. Do you know why you’ve never heard of a five-gold-bar prosthetic?”

“……”

“Because when you think of prosthetics, you imagine a wooden arm first. Your mind is limited by poverty—both in your wallet and your worldview.”

“You bastard! You think money can solve everything?”

“Idiot… You still don’t get it? Money can solve everything. The only issue is that you don’t have enough of it.”

Bellato’s imposing presence made Victor flinch.

At first, he hadn’t noticed, but as their conversation continued, it became clear—Bellato was no ordinary merchant.

He was tall, well-built, and exuded an overwhelming aura.

If someone like him was in Centum, what was his connection to Aiden?

The more questions swirled in Victor’s mind, the more his temples throbbed.

“I had high hopes for you, but this is disappointing. To think you’d travel with such a pathetic companion.”

“Watch your mouth.”

Aiden’s eyes narrowed as he dropped the formal tone.

“What? Did I say something wrong? A man who trembles over five gold bars has no right to be my customer.”

Bellato sneered, irritation lacing his words.

“Technically, your customer is me. And…”

“And?”

“Have you ever sacrificed an arm to save someone? Something you and I would never do—he did.”

Victor’s heart clenched at Aiden’s words.

A moment ago, Bellato’s scorn had made him feel small.

No money, no arm.

Once a proud soldier of the territory’s regular forces—now just another jobless man.

That was Victor’s current reality.

But Aiden had just lifted him up to the skies.

“That’s just stupidity.”

“And insulting my companion isn’t?”

Swish!

Before anyone realized it, Aiden’s dagger was at Bellato’s throat.

It was an application of the Supernova technique he had learned from his master.

A delayed streak of light trailed through the air, marking the path of his blade.

The sheer force of his attack stirred up a powerful gust of wind, causing Bellato’s hair to whip about like a flag.

Bellato clicked his tongue and shook his head in disbelief.

“Tch! So, you really don’t see anything as a threat, huh? Just who the hell are you?”

“Think you can handle the answer?”

“Since I was in the wrong, why don’t you put that murderous dagger away?”

Bellato was the first to back down.

He had no choice.

Despite being a Fist Master, he hadn’t been able to track Aiden’s dagger even for a fraction of a second.

In other words…

If Aiden wanted him dead, he’d already be dead.

What kind of monster is this guy…?

Aiden finally slid his dagger back into its sheath.

“…Alright, I was out of line just now. I apologize,” Bellato inclined his head toward Victor.

Caught off guard, Victor could only nod.

“Shall we get back to business? No matter how strong you are, the price of the prosthetic won’t change. Five gold bars, upfront.”

“……”

“If you’re thinking of threatening me into handing it over for free, forget it. I value money more than my own life.”

“That much is clear,” Aiden gave a small nod.

He had learned that there were things some people valued more than their own lives.

For Bellato, that thing was money.

“If you’re looking for a cheap wooden prosthetic, try another shop. I’m speaking as an Abaris merchant now, not a general store owner.”

Aiden didn’t respond.

Instead, he reached into the pocket of his robe—connected to an extradimensional space.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

With each heavy impact, the shop’s table trembled.

The objects Aiden placed down…

Shimmering, radiant gold bars.

Bellato’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

“Y-you son of a… Are you actually loaded?!”
 

To be continued

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