Chapter 66: A Proposal for a Second Job

“Let’s kill them all.”

Some of them had already dropped their weapons, and a few had even wet themselves.

Standing before these terrified people, Rem, holding his blood-stained axe, spoke.

“P-please spare us.”

It wasn’t surprising that they were paralyzed with fear.

They were already demoralized.

Rem thought they should be killed.

He was from the western frontier, a place where people were derogatorily called savages.

Rem had spent his childhood in the west.

In the frontier lands, you couldn’t afford to leave any threats behind.

“Seems like they did send assassins. What’s the point of arguing over who’s the culprit? Let’s just slit their throats and be done with it. Clean and simple, right?”

Those trembling in fear didn’t dare to speak. Rem stood between Encrid and the kneeling criminals, looking ready to swing his axe at any moment.

They kept their mouths shut.

“Where did you throw your blanket?”

Rem was about to say that if Encrid didn’t want to do it, he’d take care of it himself, but then he was hit with this random question.

“What?”

“Your blanket.”

When they had left their quarters earlier, Rem had been wrapped up tightly in a blanket.

At some point, he had discarded it.

“Somewhere near the alleyway, I think?”

That was before they encountered the beggar. Rem’s beastly instincts had told him to prepare for a fight.

“Then what are you going to sleep with tonight?”

Rem didn’t know why Encrid kept asking about this, but he already had a plan for when he first ditched the blanket.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just use the blanket of that guy who’s always out overnight. No need to steal yours, Captain.”

“Touch my stuff and you die. No, I’ll kill you personally. For sure.”

Jaxson, understanding the exchange, chimed in. The guy who was always out overnight was none other than Jaxson.

Jaxson had many women. Whenever they entered the city, he was rarely seen in the quarters at night.

“You stingy bastard, you’re not even using it.”

“Don’t touch it, savage.”

“You sneaky street cat, you’re so petty.”

Watching them bicker, Encrid clapped his hands loudly.

“No need for that, Rem.”

From the start, when Encrid targeted the Thieves’ Guild, he had a plan.

A more reasonable one than Rem’s half-baked idea of stealing a blanket.

Half of it was because he suspected these guys had sent the assassin, and the other half for a different reason.

‘This is unexpected.’

He was now more than half certain that they weren’t behind the assassination attempt.

After all, wasn’t it already clear that Azpen had sent the assassin?

If someone had asked him to bet on it, he would have bet against the guild being involved. He’d only have wagered a few copper coins he wouldn’t miss.

Whether they were the culprits or not didn’t matter as much as something else.

“It’s pretty cold, right? Wouldn’t you prefer to stay warm?”

Rem tilted his head, confused. His face said he had no idea what Encrid was talking about.

“Huh?”

Only Krys, with his sharp intuition, caught on. Blinking his large eyes, he looked at his squad leader with a ‘No way’ expression.

Encrid gave him a light nod.

How many years had he spent rolling around as a mercenary, saying he was training his swordsmanship?

He had learned about Valen-style mercenary swordsmanship, but he had picked up far more than just sword skills.

For example…

‘It’s only fair to rob a thief who’s trying to rob you.’

Something like that.

Encrid had made up his mind.

He didn’t think this would affect his dream.

After all, weren’t they just criminals?

The wealth they had accumulated certainly wasn’t from honest means.

Sure, there could be consequences or lingering issues.

‘Who cares?’

As his skills improved, so did his confidence in dealing with other matters. He believed he could handle it.

Breathing out a puff of cold air, Encrid continued.

“Let’s loot the place. Maybe we can at least get some heated beast hides to warm up the quarters.”

Silence followed. It wasn’t what anyone had expected.

Then Rem burst out laughing.

“Right, anything found on the land I secure is mine.”

That was a very “Rem” way of putting it.

“To stay warm?”

Ragna also responded. Nobody liked the cold.

“Haha, the gods themselves say, ‘Take from the thieves and use it for good.'”

Would scripture actually say that? Would the temple teach something like that?

Probably not.

But Audin, convinced of his own righteousness, seemed to believe in what he said, which only strengthened his resolve in their actions.

“Not a bad idea.”

Jaxson nodded as well.

“Are we just going to loot?”

Krys chimed in with a more developed suggestion.

“Let’s talk inside. It’s freezing out here.”

The temperature was so cold that the heat from the blood and intestines of the dead was already dissipating.

They all entered the mansion. Krys urged the hesitant stragglers to come inside, and the rest followed reluctantly.

There were a few with broken legs left behind.

“Help carry everyone in.”

At Krys’ words, they exchanged uncertain looks, unsure of what to do.

Maybe it would be better to run?

The thought was written all over their faces.

“If you run, that guy with the axe will chase you. Or the guy whose hobby is breaking legs.”

Though Ragna and Jaxson had fought well, the group feared Rem’s axe swings and Audin’s leg-breaking club strikes the most.

They were terrifying.

“Do you think you can avoid the standing army’s eyes within Border Guard territory? Or are you planning to go exploring during this late-season night, where monsters roam? You’ll either freeze to death or become monster food. Just come in, we won’t kill you.”

Krys had a gift for persuasion.

As Encrid listened to Krys’ words while entering the mansion, he complimented him.

“You would’ve made a great con artist.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t sound like one.”

Inside, the fireplace was lit. The warmth of human presence lingered, suggesting that the recently deceased had been living here.

Above the fireplace, two blunt swords crossed over a shield, and paintings hung on either side of the walls.

“Are they worth anything?”

Encrid asked, glancing at the paintings. Krys responded dismissively without even looking closely.

“No. They’re cheap junk. I can’t believe anyone would buy stuff like this.”

Even Encrid, who lacked any artistic sense, agreed.

“I could draw something better with my feet.”

Rem seemed to feel the same.

As they all gathered around the fireplace, their shadows stretched long behind them.

“Light the torches. It’s too dark.”

Encrid said, warming himself by the fire. He hadn’t directed the order to anyone in particular, so no one moved.

Encrid added.

“Gilpin’s dead, so the next guy should do it.”

“Gilpin’s not dead.”

At that, one of the remaining men stepped forward. He had a shiny bald head, almost like a sand dune.

If they had met during the day, it might have been blinding.

There was a long scar above his eyebrow, but even the combination of that and his bald head didn’t make him look intimidating.

What did he just say?

“Gilpin’s not dead?”

Was he some sort of monster with regenerative abilities?

Had he somehow survived being beheaded?

The body lying outside in front of the mansion didn’t seem like it.

The bald man explained.

“Because I’m Gilpin.”

What the hell is going on?

“He wasn’t the leader? Oh, I get it. It’s like a lizard cutting off its tail to escape?”

Krys pointed outside, answered his own question, and then commented.

The remark reminded Encrid of the stories he’d heard while drinking with mercenaries.

“Sometimes scumbags in criminal guilds do this thing where they use a subordinate’s name as the gang’s leader.”

“Why?”

“So they can sacrifice the subordinate and escape if things go south. It’s a trick they use when the military suddenly comes to round them up.”

“Why do you know so much about this?”

“I dabbled in that world for a bit. It’s not common, but only real bastards do it.”

This was the first time Encrid had actually seen it done.

Usually, people were too proud not to use their own name as the gang’s leader.

Using a subordinate’s name meant that the guy who died outside was a seriously shady character.

“A real piece of work.”

Encrid said, now understanding.

Behind him, Ragna asked what was going on, and Krys, always quick on the uptake, explained the situation.

Encrid’s plan was straightforward but solid.

He had come to the Thieves’ Guild with two options: if they cooperated, he’d take what he wanted peacefully. If not, he’d beat them into submission and take it anyway.

There might be consequences to messing with a thieves’ guild, but he was confident they could handle it.

With his strength and his squad, they were more than capable.

But it turned out that the guild had been involved with the assassin targeting him.

So, what now?

‘Does it even matter?’

“Are you really going to keep us warm?”

Rem whispered from behind, getting too close for comfort.

“Get lost.”

Encrid whispered back, then turned his gaze to Gilpin, who was nervously rubbing his bald head before speaking up.

“If you’re going to kill someone, just kill me. Spare the others. Some of them are only here because they have sick mothers to take care of.”

“Just because you have a sick mother doesn’t make robbing others the right thing to do.”

Taking care of a sick mother didn’t justify putting a knife to someone else’s chest and taking what wasn’t theirs.

“Well, I’d still be grateful if you spared us.”

Encrid crossed his arms and stared straight at Gilpin.

This guy had some guts.

Saying they should just kill him alone was impressive.

So why hadn’t he fought back earlier?

When asked, Gilpin shrugged.

“Why would I fight for someone who planned to throw me under the bus when things went south?”

Behind him, the two bodyguards, who had been barely clinging to life, nodded in agreement.

It seemed clear now what kind of person the former leader was.

“Are you going to cough up everything you’ve hoarded? If you do, I’ll let you live.”

Encrid was sticking to his plan.

“Of course, if you hand over everything, there’s no need to kill you.”

Comparing pioneer ideals to freezing temperatures didn’t seem to matter. Rem agreed.

Would the others feel any different?

“Yes, but the vault key was hidden by the bastard who died.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

They happened to have someone who could open any lock with a simple knock.

Gilpin wasn’t stupid. Once Encrid promised not to kill anyone, he revealed all the wealth the guild had hoarded.

“Look at this! Heated beast hides!”

“If you take all of it, the street guards will freeze to death.”

He was referring to the beggars guarding the alleyways—those beggars who were already dead.

Apparently, they had lined their shabby clothes with beast hides for warmth. Krys shook his head.

“These things get ruined if they’re soaked in blood.”

So, they couldn’t take the hides from the dead beggars.

Meanwhile, Encrid took another look at Gilpin.

‘He really looked after his people.’

Judging from the way things were going, it seemed like, despite using his subordinate’s name, Gilpin was more generous than the actual guild leader.

Even the bodyguards, who looked like they could handle themselves, seemed to follow him willingly.

“Leave some for them.”

Encrid moderated the plundering.

Fortunately, his squad didn’t seem overly greedy.

Well, there was one exception.

Krys, who always had a tendency for material greed, was checking out the items carefully but wasn’t making a move to take any of them.

“Aren’t you going to grab something?”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Captain.”

Encrid also had something to discuss. They had clearly been prepared for this attack.

There was only one place the information could have leaked from.

Not from within the squad. Only two people knew about this mission.

‘The company commander and the platoon leader.’

Could they have been bribed by the thieves’ guild?

‘No, that seems unlikely.’

That left just one possibility.

‘Vanessa’s pumpkin soup.’

Krys had whispered something to the waitress, letting slip that they were on their way to raid the thieves’ guild.

“The waitress, did she do it on purpose?”

“Oh, you caught on? You’re sharp, Captain.”

It wasn’t too bad of a guess.

He had developed good instincts from surviving in such a harsh world for so many years.

“Yeah, there are quite a few people unknowingly feeding information to this guild. The waitress was probably a dedicated informant. A cheerful waitress at a lively inn is in the perfect position to gather all kinds of intel. Scary, isn’t it? That innocent-looking girl was a thief’s informant all along.”

Honestly, Krys seemed scarier for knowing this and using it to his advantage.

“You knew, and you still played along?”

“I wasn’t certain until now. This confirmed it.”

Krys, realizing his mistake, tried to explain.

“You should have told me earlier. Don’t try to pull tricks like that again.”

It was probably part of Krys’ plan, knowing how skilled the squad was. Encrid thought it worked out for the best.

If not for this, they would have had to chase down the remaining members after the raid.

It was clear that Krys had calculated everything carefully.

After gathering all of the thieves’ guild’s forces, the question remained: what would he gain from crushing them?

“So, Captain, you don’t need any Krona?”

Krys asked innocently, blinking those big eyes of his.

Pretending to be all innocent again—that was Krys’ tell when he was up to something.

Krys knew how to use his appearance to his advantage.

He was clever, too.

But that didn’t mean his tricks worked on Encrid.

“Let’s hear what you’re scheming this time.”

While his innocent act didn’t fool Encrid, Krys’ point did resonate.

Krona, the imperial currency, was practically synonymous with money. What Krys had just asked was essentially if Encrid didn’t need any money.

Of course, he needed it.

He had spent all his prize money on a single sword, leaving him barely able to afford basic equipment.

The loot they had just taken care of the immediate issue, but money was always in demand.

“Why don’t we just take it all for ourselves?”

Krys suggested casually.

And with that, he was offering Encrid a second job.