Proving Value

Red Eyes Southern Branch.
Branch Manager's Office.

Branch Manager Jose asked,

"...... Are you saying you swallowed up the Brown Hawk Guild?"

"Yes."

"That Brown Hawk Mercenary Guild with Bald Calvin and Mad Dog Pablo?"

"Yes."

Branch Manager Jose stared straight at the boy sitting across from him.

Thirteen at most, even if you're generous.

Though the Brown Hawk Mercenary Guild wasn't huge,
at least the skills of those two, Calvin and Pablo, were above the average level of mercenaries.

That's why they used to let minor clashes pass without making a fuss.

Of course, if it came down to an all-out war, wiping out a guild like that would be nothing.

Still, so long as those two persisted, they'd have to accept some damage on their side, too.

That's why, even when making plans to consolidate the guilds, Brown Hawk had been put lower on the list.

'What is this kid?'

Suddenly, this runt claims to have devoured the entire Brown Hawk Guild.

If it's true, he must have used some underhanded trick.

Moreover—

"So, you're saying you want to bring the whole Brown Hawk Guild over as an affiliate under our Red Eyes Guild?"

"Yes."

The kid's face shows annoyance at being asked the same thing again; his languid yet piercing gaze stabs into Jose.

'Not an ordinary child at all.'

After all, this was the same one who, for not being let in, broke five guild members' legs in an instant.

Who knows how many more would have been broken if left alone?

'Where did a monster like this come from all of a sudden...?'

"Fine. Let's say it's all true. You wouldn't tell such a lie when I could check with my contact in Naumsi right now."

"Of course."

He'd already sent a carrier pigeon.

Soon, the contact would reply about the situation over there.

"But, to enter a large mercenary guild like ours as an affiliate, you need a clear status. This isn't some place that deals with riff-raff picking fights in the street. Of course, if you only wanted to join as a low-level guild member, that'd be another matter..."

Before Jose could finish, the boy, who introduced himself as Evan, took out a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it on the table.

"Evan Dagon. That's my name, and my status."

"Dagon... Dagon? Are you from the baron's house that had that incident recently?"

"That would be my father's older brother."

"Ah, I heard Baron Prin Dagon had a younger brother. Died in the war, correct?"

In the mercenary guild business,
knowing the affairs of neighboring nobles is a top-priority matter.

"That was my father."

Jose, holding up the proof of status, nodded.

'After his father died, he must have taken refuge with Baron Prin Dagon. And after even that baron was killed, he'd now have nowhere else to go.'

Even a cursory glance told him this was a flawless certificate.

The baron's seal wasn't forged—that much was clear at once.

But the habit of testing one's opponent, developed since starting out as a mercenary, hadn't disappeared.

"Isn't this a forged certificate? If you go around with forgeries, city security will take you in."

"I didn't expect someone like the Red Eyes Southern Branch's branch manager to not see through this..."

"What?"

"Oh, just a slip of the tongue. If you overheard, my apologies. I'm still not used to social life. Please forgive my mistake."

Jose's brow twitched.

'What is with this kid?'

Is he toying with me?

"I've heard you're about to initiate a major operation."

This time, it wasn't just his brow—Jose's eyes widened.

"What? Did you just...?"

"You intend to consolidate all the mercenary guilds in the six southeastern cities of the kingdom, correct?"

'That damned deputy branch manager!'

This was a top secret.

If word got out before the operation started, the other guilds might unite or scatter for guerrilla warfare.

Any guild to be absorbed had to be absorbed immediately,
any guild to be struck had to be wiped out instantly.

He had only shared the information with the one deputy branch manager leading the Black Wolf bandit cleanup.

'These brats...'

Maybe they needed to be removed right here.

And when the operation started next week,
the Brown Hawk Mercenary Guild would be marked as enemy number one.

Jose's voice became low and cold.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does."

Deputy Branch Manager Serhi.

If his mouth was this loose,
he couldn't be allowed to be deputy any longer.

"Don't worry. The deputy branch manager hasn't been talking."

What?
This brat.
Is he a mind reader?
If so, it would make sense.
Should I test it?

'Looking at him closely, with that baby face... what kind of underwear is this brat wearing right now, I wonder?'

He deliberately thought something any man would flinch at.

"Kid, what am I thinking right now?"

He watched carefully for any sign of a reaction.

"How am I supposed to know that?"

Not a flicker of emotion.
Right...
No such psychic power existed.
His expression didn't suggest he was lying.

If that was so...
Surely, he wasn't sent by Marquis Nox, was he?
To test me?
That explained everything.

Evan Dagon.
A boy who took over the Brown Hawk Guild at such a young age.
An uninvited lottery ticket, no one could tell how far he'd go.
Marquis Nox must have caught wind of his abilities.

'That cruel man, marquis Nox...'

To recruit this kid for himself,
he'd have the guardian, Count Prin Dagon, killed,
then appear at just the right moment to offer guidance.

In this way,
he'd surely take in this promising child under his wing.

From what Jose knew of Marquis Nox, this was plausible.

And as a first mission,
he'd be testing Jose.

"Enough strange talk. I'll cut to the point. Our Brown Hawk Guild will participate in the Red Eyes Southern Branch's guild consolidation war. As the vanguard, no less. The price for this is..."

"You want the exclusive mercenary business rights?"

"Yes. Once the guild consolidation war is over, recognize our monopoly rights for business in Naumsi. Of course, we'll pay you a commission."

A plausible pretext.

But the real aim must be hidden behind that—
to test whether I'll betray the marquis, or really have the means for war funds,
whether I'm trustworthy and capable.

That's why he's here—to test me.

Fine.

I'll take that test.

I, branch manager Jose, will show you my worth.

Jose's mind cleared.

Evan Dagon.

Where did a monster like this suddenly spring from?

How did he know the details of a secret operation,
even up to how much had been shared?

All doubts melted away.

As always,
he'd solved the problem with clear deduction.

'I, Jose, am not done for yet.'

* * *

What on earth is he thinking, muttering to himself like that?

Branch Manager Jose of the Red Eyes Southern Branch.

He's more cautious than I'd expected.

I almost feel like I can hear the cogs turning in his brain.

A moment later—

"Good. I'll accept your test."

What now?

"Sorry?"

Jose gave me a meaningful smile.

Is he a pervert or something?

He kept glancing at my crotch earlier...

"Evan Dagon, I accept your proposal. You and the Brown Hawk Guild will prove your worth in this guild consolidation war as the vanguard. I'll prove my ability and magnanimity as commander. Monopoly rights? Of course, they're yours. I won't even ask for a commission. That is, as long as each of us proves our worth to the other."

Each of us what, now?

Not sure what he meant,
but if he's offering to waive the commission,
Bald Calvin will love that.

"Then, I'll consider the contract concluded and take my leave. 'The verbal contract between mercenaries weighs heavier and lasts longer than any paper.' You know the saying?"

"That's the words left by the founder of Red Eyes, mercenary King Kendrick. Of course, I know."

Hey, Kendrick.
Your childish phrase,
your descendants are still repeating it.
You'd be proud.

* * *

A week later.

Outskirts of Erinoum.

"Do you know who I am!? I'm Mad Dog Pablo of Brown Hawk!"

Boom!

Each time Pablo swung his massive warhammer,
the enemies' armor and shields shattered apart.

"Watch your back, Pablo!"

Thwack!

Calvin's sword pierced the side of an enemy aiming for Pablo's back.

"Thanks, boss!"

They were up against Red Bull, a mercenary guild fifty strong.

A decent guild, with matching leather armor bearing the image of a red bull.

Slash!

Bastian cut through an enemy's thigh with his arming sword, and asked,

"Evan! That Mad Dog Pablo—isn't he totally different from when we first met at the tavern? I thought he was just a big drunk back then."

"With a body that size, it's only natural."

Crunch!

Pablo's warhammer utterly smashed a Red Bull guild member's shoulder.

As Bastian said,
back at the tavern, Pablo could barely hold himself upright—just an overgrown troublemaker.

Now, he was the embodiment of a mad dog wielding a massive warhammer.

"Wahaha! Come at me! The warhammer of Mad Dog Pablo will smash all your skulls!"

Red Bull had more numbers,
but none of them had a mad dog weaving through enemy lines, heedless of danger to his own back.

'Impressive, those two.'

Mad Dog Pablo's back was guarded like a fortress by Bald Calvin.

They really did make an excellent pair.

Especially Bald Calvin—
though he was even stronger than Pablo,
he focused all his attention on guarding Pablo's rear.

They must have fought together that way since childhood.

Just then—

"Out of my way!"

From the rear of the enemy lines, a man on horseback came charging in.

A red bull emblem stood out on his chest—
even larger and brighter than those on the others.

So, that's the guildmaster.

He held a shield in one hand and a one-handed longsword in the other,
wearing light plate armor that looked metal but not too heavy.

The way he charged in, his poise—
he was decently trained.

Sching.

On the third day of the Red Eyes Southern Branch's mercenary guild consolidation war across the six southeastern major cities,
I drew my sword for the first time.