Helping with Adventurer Party Management

The night in 3rd class neighborhood is dark.

Oil is needed to light the lights and is expensive for the average household.

For this reason, the third class neighborhood, where the dwellings of the common people and the poor are concentrated, is in total darkness with a glance at the gates separating the neighborhoods guarded by guards and the liquor stores open until midnight.

Among those dark 3rd class neighborhoods, there was a small group approaching the hazy neighborhood.

It is an odd group.

The outfit is like a craftsman, but it doesn't make a voice or footsteps through the darkness that you don't even know if you're stuck with your nose, but it follows a previous human being while maintaining a certain distance without bitterness.

That's how the men hold their feet.

"As per information."

The leading man whispered in a low voice.

I usually don't see people at the gates of the street where a convincing mercenary regiment is supposed to be on guard.

It seems that the measure of stripping the guards of their human beings with banquet seats up there has worked.

It turns out that being a first-rate clan, a hero, etc. is nothing more than a lowlife mercenary.

The men sneak up on the exterior walls of a large building, even in the deep streets when they nod at each other.

The front entrance is tightly locked to the boulder, but we have an idea about the entrance.

One man stands with his hand on the wall.

The next man jumps up and stands on the man's shoulder.

The men broke in so as to convey the impromptu staircase that they were able to do so and to use the extraordinary flexibility to slip from a very thin window for the lights near the ceiling into the inside of the workshop they were looking for.

He said he jumped from nearly twice his height onto a stiff floor, but no one can make a single footstep.

That shows the unusual proficiency of the men.

For men who are sometimes entrusted with breaking into political enemies and aristocratic mansions, breaking into city workshops is easy.

The men scattered all over the dark workshop searching for what was requested.

If you set the finish on fire, there will be nothing left to know what happened.

Although it is a 3rd class neighborhood, if you let it burn too flashly, it will be a problem, so I need to tell my men to reduce it more.

The sound of the men searching the back flipping their drawers flashly sounded, and the man frowned.

Even if we burn it down anyway, we should be a little more cautious and keep the sound down.

Otherwise, you'll make a fatal mistake somewhere.

I need to retrain when I get back.

That moment.

The man jumped back.

It's not a thought move. Repeated training, intuition and reflex nerves saved a man's life.

Wind pressure finds out that some mass object has passed through the space where a man should have been until just a few moments ago.

"Ho."

A long-sleeved man stood where no one was supposed to be.

"For a rat, it's quite an arm. Or some snake?

They were ambushing me!

The man pulls out his hips dagger silently.

Unusual pressure blows from the man in front of me.

If we fight properly, we have no chance of winning.

But the man in front of you gets a two-handed sword.

I guess he's better at poking than slashing it to see how to set it up with a cut.

If you wield all that gain, the workshop walls, the work desk, etc. get in the way.

It is a sensible swordsmanship, and I can say it is a sensible judgment.

And there is a gap in that rational judgment at this time.

The long reach is shackled the other way if the first thrust is fleshy.

If we avoid it, we can survive.

The man drops his hips slightly to focus all his efforts on avoiding the first blow.

Then, the long-sleeved man's structure changed.

Without pulling out his sword, he stayed in the sheath, widened his grip, put his right hand in the pattern of the sword, and his left hand in the shape of a grip on the middle of the sheath, and protruded the sword parallel to his body.

"... what are you going to do"

It is as if it were a sceptre. You won't even be able to pull out your sword and slash it when you're agitated.

Buy time, the word comes to a man's mind.

Today's intrusion would have been read more than an ambush.

Will my long fellow men rush to me?

Speaking of which, the men who should have scattered aren't coming back either.

"What, because this is an acquaintance's house. You can't just smudge it with snake blood?

He restrains himself from getting blood up his head on the words of a man like he ate a man, and diligently examines the viability for a few moments to draw conclusions.

Defeat this man. Then scaffold the sword you took at the wall and escape through the entry window. That's all I have.

The aim is "fingers".

You can't target your body because there's a difference in the reach of your score. Attack the finger holding the sword first.

You can aim at the neck where you're frightened, or you can slit the inside of the other wrist.

"Nice setup."

The long man's words come down slightly from the top.

That's how you can afford it, too, until the blood blows out.

The man has seen many times the desperate eyes of a human, before death, who diligently hands down the blood that blows out of his neck muscles.

The dagger is also poisoned.

He jumps in from a low position aiming at his eyes and at his fingers where he has reflexively sheltered his face.

Behind you, once, and the long man's eyes slip away for a moment.

I got it!

Move the cuttoe of the dagger at high speed as you jump in with your body and slash it from eye to finger!

The man's consciousness disappears into darkness with shock there.

The last thing the man felt was the doubt that he certainly couldn't feel any response to the dagger that was supposed to have captured him.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

"Wow. Lieutenant, you've done this flashy again."

A member of the approaching Swordtooth Corps looks at the man slammed against the wall.

Although not immediate death, extensive internal bleeding from face to sternum and some also appear to be causing a sinking fracture.

You will die if you do not make allowance as soon as possible.

"He seemed like a troublesome opponent when he went around running away. If you trapped and countered, did you go in too beautifully"

Swivelry found that the moment he set up, his opponent's aim was on this finger.

If there is a difference in reach, there are few variations on how to attack in the first place.

So he pretended to turn to his defense to make it easy for the enemy to aim and put his hand in front of his opponent.

The other guy came after my hand. I slapped it back. That's all.

"And yet, this isn't what you normally did, is it? What did you do?

"I just hit it a little bit"

"Uh... you're the vice president's butch, the one who flips the hobgoblins, right? It's not a human trick."

One of the most impactful moves in martial arts is the per-body move called Butch.

Simultaneously with the quickness of coming from the length and the stomping of enough weight, the impact of a sword protruding parallel with Swivelry's forged arm power is powerful enough to turn over a monster (Hobgoblin) of the body more than two meters.

What happens if a normal person takes that, and gets it on the counter?

The state of the man's whole body slammed against the wall tells the story of the consequences.

"I handled it. That's why you're alive, isn't it? From now on, they need to throw up behind their backs. Guess I didn't kill you guys, either, huh?

As Swiberry turned a sharp gaze, the group rushed to wave in front of him.

"It's okay, it was kind of chocolate and depressing, but they were like nothing compared to demon wolves. I'm not hurt, either."

"Fine then. Take them to the office. And then the captain will do well."

This will be the third time a shoe factory has been raided since sending Kenzi and the others out for printing and doing it.

If you're dealing with a priest or a nobleman, you can't just beat him to the end.

It will be the first time that the request has been accomplished by capturing him alive and putting as much pressure on him as possible from the man above him.

I'm the one who decided to live in the city, but what a pain in the ass.

When Swiberry sighed and re-carried his long two-handed sword, he left the shoe factory to give the report to the captain.