Ouroboros Record ~Circus of Oubeniel~

The sky was blue and clear. The position of the sun is Jomtien, and the hour is midday.

Major streets stretching from the Wang capital Brosenne to all directions. That's the jurisdiction of the Kingsguard Knights. The most powerful knighthood in the country, in honor of soothing the royal knee. With their eyes and noses like that, who the hell is going to rob them?

Exceptions to everything, however, are attached. The aorta responsible for circulation to the Wang capital is an excellent hunting ground, with winged dealers coming and going if you return the back. If the merchants rest in the glory of the Kingsguard and raise their fangs where they are exposed to defenseless flanks, they will sip the delicious juice that will not rise elsewhere.

Regardless, but with no thought, it is imperative that you immediately be perceived by the Knights' logic and soon run away from it and suffer the scourge of annihilation. Therefore, the trick in the vicinity of the Wang Capital required a combination of intelligence to break through the time of the Knights patrol, which is an immediate threat, patience in waiting for the time when the gap and the arrival of the prey overlap, and the swiftness to finish everything between realizing things and the arrival of the rescue.

"Head!!

The work of that bandit group began with a voice calling its head in great haste.

It is the scourge that made the Wang Du side do things for him, as he stitched wood along the streets, raising his voice and making his horse run. There was a lack of strength and gall strength, but equestrianism was mastered above the bright end. He is also currently engaged in the rough business of horsing through the off-road. He is like a man born to do reconnaissance.

"Whoa, what's up -!?

For scouts on horseback, head torso voice.

Because of his cowardice, he was belittled within the whole regiment, but his head highly valued this man. Formerly a slave bought by a rancher, he poked the collar release due to his husband's death and came running off with his horse ripped off before being re-contracted by his heirs. The boss is buying him that he's the most daring man here.

It is a report from a lovely subordinate who cannot but has prospects. I was hoping that even the big guy caught it and the head wouldn't show it to his face.

"Head, it's prey! One aristocratic carriage along the street! Two carriages! I'm coming this way!

Thus, the answer was more than I expected.

Confirm just in case, holding one hand down the cheek that is about to loosen.

"An aristocratic carriage, huh? Sure? There's no escort horseback squad?

"Ha! Just the carriage! Horse carriers are loaded too, and even if you put them on that way, the number of people should be small! I was wondering if the head count over there would exceed ten!

The head couldn't contain the grin this time.

Aristocrats rushing along the streets without horseback riding. That's on the next carriage, too, loaded up a lot. It's like a beautiful woman walking naked in the playground. It is the prey of the outfit.

The other members were colored as well.

"Whoa! Put it up on the street for the third day, today is the day to put it on the prey!

"Besides, it's great that they're shitty aristocrats! They have a lot of grudges!

The members who complain about the raid on their heads with their eyes full of desire.

But one of the newcomers said blush.

"... but I don't even think it's unprotected because it's loaded. What if even an armed adventurer hires you?

To the words, one calms down as soon as possible.

The race of adventurers is a kind of anomaly. An outsider in the shape of a man who kills monsters all year round, a threat to mankind, and is trained in that battle. Some of them are single and devastated by small bandits.

If you had such amazing skills, it would be a difficult job.

"... kukuku"

"... haha"

"Hahaha!

- The ancient ginseng who survived to this day have been fighting such people for a long time.

"Ha! Don't tell me you don't know much about adventurers."

"Yes, yes. The strength of these guys is partying, right? If you don't see things the wrong way, the head count over there won't exceed ten. But noblemen are a good lookout, they keep a lot of ministers around!

"If you pull that from ten, there are two or three of us left. No matter how strong they are, they're far from us! If you win by that many people, you can narrow your aim for the escort and nail it."

I mean, that's the thing.

A few, or adventurers crushing bandits on a single horseback, let's be sure. But that's a story if you're in a situation of offense called crusade. If you're going to be on an escort mission that forces you to guard, you won't be able to wake up unless it's a party of at least five or six. If there were ever a handful of adventurers who would take on a carriage escort, you'd have to run into a thief on this road, or it would be a mogul. It can't be a threat. Still a strong man confident to do this? It is common sense that such people are being turned around by Hannah for better requests. Guild for it, adventurer rank system for it.

Prey aristocrats and menacing adventurers. For the ancient set of senators who learned of their habits, it is the pinnacle of stupidity that misses this opportunity by distracting the prudent dweller. It just seems like something stupid. That was the same for the head.

"Oh, that's why, newcomers. It's a delicious job. I'm just not allowed to screw around for that matter. Take a good look at the old ladies' handiwork and study properly!?

"" Heh, heh!

I glance at the novelty of the young man who replies in a squeaky fashion and sees the sun hanging in the sky as it was then.

Time is around slightly past noon. According to the information I got from letting them grab the money for the goods in and out, it's time for the Knights to have lunch. For a while, no one will get in the way.

"... it fits! Time is exactly half an hour! More than that, the Knights' logic is coming! Kill him and take him away!

"" Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!

The bandits roared over the depression they had waited for for their big job near Wang Du and their desire for the loot they would gain after this.

(Well, when it comes to killing nobles, I'm afraid of later chasers. I don't make careful decisions about the escape route and the end of the high flight...)

The chief was playing such an abacus as he watched his men fly out to the streets.

Put aside who a group of defenseless people are heading this way.

"Olaoler! Come out, you rotten nobleman!!

"You guys shouldn't turn a blind eye to a horse!? Kill him and stop his leg!

"Just give me the golden-eyed mon!!

Outside the window, intimidating calls can be heard uncut. The number of bandits who attacked us seems to be considerable. At least twenty people can't go down. I can't believe there's such a large number of ambushes. What's going on with the security around Wangdu?

"Thirty people?

"Thirty-two, to be exact... Correction, B-01 counter-attack reduced it to thirty-one"

and calmly state the two escorts.... Yeah, unfortunately, my outlook doesn't seem to count on iron fires.

Though I don't feel anything strange, the word "cake" also means "cake shop". Refresh your mind and ask a motivated doue.

"By the way, how confident are you?

Then he laughed invincibly,

"Come on, husband, I'm still at the end of Rank B, right? Unless your modification pulls your leg, you're a thief to this extent, before breakfast."

and returned a truly reliable word.

I think it was a stupid question, a little reflection.

The destruction of the Bandits is largely a task undertaken by E-C parties. The range is wide because of the uneven size and quality of the bandits as well, but leave it alone - and the category of adventurers who are pretty close to level A even in the B rank are supposedly able to make requests where level C can be hung by more than one person alone. In the data detected in the lab prior to the modification, Dooe had been determined to be exactly its grade B superior equivalent. There will be no feeling or falsehood in his words.

"Does that mean that even if you subtract the shackle of a guard, the test will have a level of enemies to hit and put on?

"Good judgment and foolishness."

I also got ink from Uni. When that happens, the status quo is no problemo. I have no objection to issuing a go sign.

"All right, Dooey. It's unplanned, but it's a live test here. Destroy the subject while you protect the horse and the luggage. Mass produced slaves can be left alone because they can do so to the extent of self-defense"

"Are they the material for the experiment?

"I appreciate your concern, but I don't have the means of transportation. Besides, a new lord who's about to enter the realm wouldn't be dressed up with a bandit of some sort, would he?

"Cheng Cheng, right? Then..."

The quality of Doue's laughter changes. With invincibility and confidence. To that, to the mad laughter of the addition of killing and exaltation.

"- Come on, do as you command! Will you be annihilated!!

In my hand was a two-handed sword of two names, wrapped in a black coat and nearly broken armor, and my second piece popped out of the carriage.

Well, what's the finish like? Let me observe.

The bandits were puzzled. You must have raided a swallowing nobleman without escort, but it's not what you expected.

First, I put a few people ahead of me to stop the horse's leg, put up a rope and set up a foot payment, but the owner of the leading carriage made a quick stop just before, as I could spot it. The wagon that was chasing after him also stops to go with it. You look stunningly handsome.

In addition, the men who move a bunch of carriages were all different.

Totally faceless, regardless of blocking the streets and swarming with more than thirty people. That's good. I showed you my eyesight to spot this trap and how to avoid it just before. You don't have to be the only one.

But the outfit was strange. It's good to be cementing yourself in stunning black butler clothes, but wrapped around your neck - no, embedded is a silver shining collar. It is a cursed costume that shows the identity of slaves in common throughout the continent.

"Of slaves... your lord?

Whoever sees it uniformly raises a question mark in the back of his brain. Naturally, a nobleman is a creature whose appearance is like walking in clothes. Civilians or subordinate noblemen under the umbrella are the norm for positions that should also be the faces of family members, such as your deacons and deacons. Otherwise, you won't be dressed up for the rest of the family. That is, they are insulted and disparaged from their surroundings. I can tell you what Oori knows. In short, it is a failure that can be a serious flaw in an aristocratic society where pride and tradition are bills of lading.

"Come on, I don't think so... of the poor aristocrats, if you run at night, you run away at noon?

"That's a masterpiece! But, wow, that doesn't make any money for this job!

Cutting that conversation off, confusion turned into contempt.

And to hold it back,

"Look at that! The carriage in the rear, let the maid hold the reins!

"This is a slave, too! You don't have any money!

"Hehe... your face is going pretty good."

I heard that conversation from the guys heading for the back row.

When that happens, no one can maintain tension when trapped anymore.

A nobleman who leaves the King's capital with only slaves, without horseback riding. Such a thing must be depressing and falling into the city. Actual entry would be less than expected beforehand - a load of wagons that can be seen to be full in the distance. Perhaps this is the last piece of property. If it were to be a noble family tool, even the lowest ones would have considerable value, and some women had no difficulty selling: maids of slaves, etc. Must have pulled the detachment, but not even a huge loss, it would be close to a hit......

That is the presumption drawn by the great majority of the bandits.

"... Ora, you bastard! It doesn't change a lot! Kill the man! Kill the horses, too! The maid's tied up!

"My head! What if there's a woman in there too?

"If it's a maid, I'll sell it. If you are a wife or a young lady, you will kill her because she is heavy and has no clue. If you want to hold a woman, taste the sale or buy it for the money you earn.... Ok!?

"Heh, heh!

Gaoling flowers, such as noble women, butt in the store better even if they are put up for sale, and even if they are sold, they will have legs from there. Most noblemen do not have negotiating seats with bandits, etc., even as hostages do. All the time, that's why they take the time to get away from the chaser. It's Othi who's late.

Therefore he shall take away only that which hath a legend: otherwise he shall cut it off. With the extra heavy stone on his back, he can't escape easily. Especially women, one of the reasons why third-rate people destroy themselves. A woman who is not for sale, scratch her greed and not kidnap her, but slay her clean. That was the secret to keeping the bandits running for a long time.

The bandits, who once got their nose screwed, reclaim their harsh desires and hit the carriage line. Horses first. Kill the target's foot so that not a single one of them can escape. An archer led by a member of the Hunter Collapse stares at the arrow, squeezing and releasing.

At the same time,

"... B-01, we're going into more self-defense than this"

"... B-02, we're going into more self-defense than this"

"... M-01, we're going into more self-defense than this"

"... M-02, confirm the transition of the Friends to battle. We'll start helping."

"… M-03, confirm the transition of the Friends to battle. We'll start helping."

The slaves' counter-attack has begun.

"" Huh?

Again, confusion and consternation strike the bandits.

And it came to pass, when he saw the arms of his men in darkness, that the arrows that had been unleashed about to shoot the horse and the man's lord first were slapped down. The same goes for two arrows and three arrows. It was prevented. It's like a trick.

The first bandit to notice the seed of the trick peeled much of his surprise.

"Mm, you dropped an arrow with a whip......!?

A long whip to hit a horse from the cockpit. That was who intercepted the arrow.

But fulfill it. Whether their common sense can receive it.

"Then don't be silly! Your whip!? To slap the horse, this number of arrows... who can imitate n!?

"Even if I could! There's no way all three of us can do that!

"Archers, aim harder! Didn't you guys take it off!?

That can't happen. Turning a blind eye to the reality in which it has happened, the bandits force the archers to put their bows up again.

However,

"… B-01, I fight back"

The owner of the leading carriage threw something out of his nose earlier.

Something about it flies at an unnoticed speed,

"Wow!?... but... ugh!

"Hey, what's up - hey!?

It was standing on the skull of one of the archers.

It is a throwing knife.

Most of his body is buried in the wound at what speed he flew in.

Damage that definitely reaches the brain. It was instant death.

A dead body slowly breaks to the ground slightly late. As I finally realized that I was dead.

"Son of a bitch, you fucked up!?

"Damn!... If you can't do it with a flying tool, slash it! Knock him dead!

Impact on the death of fellow citizens. The head of the bandit screamed to turn it into an offensive impulse.

But it was too late.

- The carriage door opens.

"What -"

Blood splashes rise blocking the voice of doubt.

In a black hurricane, the sand and dust of the streets rolled up.

At the same time it jumped out of the carriage, one more died.

That's all I understand.

Now I didn't even see the moment of attack.

sixty thirty pairs of eyes, and did not appear as one of them.

"Phew...?

If I noticed, there was one black man, appearing in a sword-swaving position.

The man fixes his sword grip two or three times so as to make sure he responds.

It was a breeze with no hair or fear of being slashed or shot from the back.

... Did he kill you?

The bandits recognize it, as they do now.

"I'm not used enough. It's like I'm not good at adding or subtracting."

While killing one at the same time as he appeared, it was a mouthful as if he had slashed even a bunch of straw.

Fear As if you noticed, the circle of siege is pushed from the inside out.

The man who showed up looked like an adventurer.

It is long. The body looks tough rather than fat.

Black coat, black breastplate, long two-handed sword.

All of that was crude. I think I just peeled it from the body of the wild sun.

But what about this killing, which leaks out of the cracked black iron? Isn't it from the ancient battlefield, a dying demon?

They now understood that it was of such a kind that they should not meet.

"Huh!?

"Ya, stop -!"

Screaming, as breaking the strange stagnation caused by the appearance of a man. All belonged to bandits.

Slaves disguised as maids and deacons, if you look at them, have some bandits at their disposal.

The man who noticed it singled out his tongue,

- Stop it.

With one order, I stopped them from showing their willingness to pursue.

... Why?

Doubts spread before relief.

I dare you to stop the hand that kills us. What is the reason for this?

Negotiate? You think we're gonna pull ourselves back on force?

For it would have been an uppermost gospel for them, who are being dominated by fear and confusion beyond tolerance.

But...

"They're my type. Temé and the others, stay back and protect the carriage."

The facts were heartless.

The man says he will target them. In other words, kill.

The bandits trembled at the proclamation, and the slaves broke their tents.

"… B-01. Confirm the start of the battle test for the top individual, Opus 02. to passive self-defense."

"B-02, as well"

"M-01 to 03, as well. Over."

"Heck, over..."

When he finishes his unexplained interaction unmotivated, the man sets up his sword again.

The bandits surrounding the neighborhood were completely hipster.

When Jiri and the man slightly slip their feet, the bandits fall ten times behind them.

Seeing as that, the man leaks a discouraged exhale.

"Dude, I can't help it...... slashing my running back doesn't get me used to it - oh, yeah"

As he came up with some bad wisdom, the man hung up the edge of his mouth.

And raise your voice so that everyone in the room can hear you.

"Hey, you guys! How about this? If you can kill me, you can miss this place. Or let the slaves chase you."

"Is... Huh?

"What are you talking about?"

The bandits are confused again, but the man continues unaddressed.

Now turn your face toward the carriage where he would have come out,

"Would that be good, your husband!? That's all there is to it!

"- Post-acceptance is not impressive."

Through the carriage door, a maid of slaves just happens to show her face.

Some were also breathtaking to forget that now is the time for life Setouchi. That's how much slavery I was.

The maid went on like this.

"But your husband was generous enough to forgive you. 'I'll take care of it, you're free to try it,' he said. … be sure to ask for your permission in the future"

"That's what I need to do."

The finished maid returns to the carriage. The man deepens his grin.

The bandits,

"... or yay yay!!

He turned to the man with his overturned, screaming orders.

Remaining number of bandits, twenty-four.

There are, as far as I can confirm, seven groups of opponents of nobility. I'm all alone in the fight.

It was the beginning of the ravages. Except to the majority by a few.

Here, let's move perspective to one of the bandits. He is the first boy to discover the aristocratic carriage regiment - the Turius and the others - skillful in equestrianism.

(How could -)

He held his head and squatted in the bushes.

He disobeyed the instructions of his head, hid secretly without challenging the man, and was frightened.

(How could -)

He didn't want to be a bandit.

Being sold as a slave to my family was the beginning of the matter. A miraculous survival freed him from the status of a slave, but he was not free to go, only to be picked up by the bandits where he wandered with the horse who came on the run.

The head was buying his equestrian and eye-catching, but for the boy, that expectation is only a seed of hardship nurturing ambient ambiguity.

Still, I have followed before, because there is no other way to live. I wasn't willing to follow the instructions I knew I was going to die until 10 years ago.

(How could -)

In his sight as he raised his gaze, there were repeated sights of the bandits storming the black man and dying.

No matter how many of my people die, I follow by imitating it myself.

The sight was unimaginable to the boy and he also refused to understand.

Once every decade or so in the land that descends south of here, a crowd of overgrown and fed rats is said to be seen throwing themselves crazily into the sea and lakes after hunger.

I couldn't help but recall a rhetoric of listeners I'd never seen like that.

(How could -)

To the black swordsman, one of the bandits leaps and hangs.

- Tang bamboo cut.

A body, split in two from the top of his head to his crotch, scatters his organs and falls to the ground.

To the black swordsman, one of the bandits leaps and hangs.

- Cut.

A diagonally amputated corpse flies vegan somewhere like it bounced off a pillow.

To the black swordsman, one of the bandits leaps and hangs.

- Torso.

A body split from his belly wraps his popped intestine around his companion's body.

... man, the black swordsman said try.

As the word goes, each and every one of them. Carefully and carefully. Slash and kill everyone in a different way to make sure every move runs out. And every time I kill you, the sword moves improve with nightmares.

(How could -)

Why kill?

Why are you going to be killed?

A number of unanswered questions keep going around the boy's head.

But the biggest question is not about the fellow dying, nor about the swordsman who keeps letting him die.

To be honest, neither of that mattered to him.

The question he really has to cause confusion is:

(Why -!?)

A sour nose situation where a man keeps killing bandits.

Slaves who observe it by the wagon, beat down the occasional escapees and offer it to the man.

One of them,

(Why are you there?!?

He was once a living sister, sold as a slave with him.

... the beginning was five years ago.

This country - the kingdom of Arquelle, regarded as a land and a land of art and one of the continent's largest agricultural powers - is in no way unrelated to cold and drought. No, if we go to the provinces, the nobles who have left central control run the territory in a random vein. Heavy taxes, labor, unplanned internal affairs… can happen in any number of situations where farmers starve. The boy's village was also a land governed by such corrupt lords.

That year was hit by cold summers and the wheat harvest was unparalleled and depressed. The effect drove the boy's house into a situation that was also lacking in paying taxes. Among the children whose stranded parents had secured as a labor force, they would sell off two children of their age who could sell at high prices as slaves, to slave traders.

That was him and his sister.

The boy and his sister encouraged each other that they might be bought by the same master if they were lucky, on the road stuffed and rocked in a carriage. And in the slave market of the king's capital, Brosenne, the brothers and sisters were ruthlessly divided into different outlets. Because my sister was a rare magician and she had a good amount of skill from her own eyes, which is my brother. And myself, because it was luxurious for a boy, and it was precisely on him to sell it cheaply, toward certain layers with narrow mouths.

He was told by the slave city's turn that his sister had been bought by the Earl of Sara for an extraordinarily good price. That number, which seemed to reward the weak, made him happy to tell that the children of the Count family were perverts of the slaughter of slaves, and that while his sister was taken to be drawn to senior slavery, she called and cried about herself to the end. The boy slammed the door of the cell in a vehement manner and was slapped with a whip more than a few times.

Shortly thereafter, he was sold to the Lord of the Great Ranch. His husband was very cute to me, but he was a cute way to make me nauseous. The day dawned on the care of livestock, and at night he was brought into his husband's bedroom. The fact that he defiled the stained sheets with the smell he could, and that he was made to lick the bitter juice by order of the magic of obedience, is countless with his fingers on both hands and feet. The master suddenly suffered in the midst of his daily routine every night and died in disquiet. It was to the heart, which was secretly ill, that he continued to exercise impossible despite his fat body. I deserved it.

The boy realizes the collar is loose as soon as his husband dies. When I painstakingly removed it, I became free. The first thing I did when I was free was spit my sputum on my ex-husband's body, which sucked. Then he rode a horse he had handed to the stables, fled the ranch - and was picked up by the head of a bandit where he wandered unnecessarily, to this day.

I thought my sister was already dead. She had to think that she must have been exposed to a more brutal fate when she was bought by a nobleman famous for slaughtering slaves, given the beatings she had received before she was sold. The only real family, unlike the ones who sold themselves out for the village, saying it was for the family, who spent time together in hard and painful times and wept the same flavor. The boy had even paralysed the feeling of sadness with his rubbed heart, and had finally accepted it.

Even so.

My sister, who thought she was dead, is sitting in his sight with a living flesh and that's what a dead eye looks like...

... the battle, no, the killing was already over.

Clear midday streets, scattered with human remains.

The black swordsman was flattening all the bandits without one scratch. All fleeing could be stopped by the slaves, or the swordsman overtook them and slashed them from the front.

All that's left is the boy.

The swordsman was looking at the boy. Even though he is stuck in the box, he is looking straight at me for some reason. I had no intention of killing or warfare, but I could not see mercy or tolerance. The slaves, too, have their eyes on this one.

If you run, you'll be slashed. I unconsciously realized that, but I didn't know what would happen if I left.

Retreat is cramped. My life is put on the unidentified killers, three inches on their chests. There's no room for me to do anything on my own.

Well, at least...

…………

With trembling feet, step out onto the street.

The swordsman, as always, watched him still. He had lazy eyes anyway. The exaltation when he was being attacked by the bandits had already left and looked like he had some kind of voidness. I'm not nervous about killing a boy right now.

Besides, I don't even have time to relieve myself, and the boy approaches the maid with the collar.

There was no attack.

"... Emily?

For the first time in years, I spoke my sister's name.

It was not named like calling an inorganic thing, such as' Mzero Three ', but a former name.

There was a slight reaction. The girl, dressed in maid clothes and fitted with a collar, shook her shoulders small.

"It must be Emily, right?

Call your name again.

She's been looking back at this one.

Let's cover our heads. In the eyes of the same color as the blue sky, like a lie, we show the boy's face.

She had a beautiful face. When I was a kid, I thought this kid would be beautiful when he grew up. I grew up more beautiful than I imagined then.

It's just that the light in those eyes is lying. There's nothing but beauty in that face. That was sad for the boy.

"It's me, Luc."

Name your name with a trembling voice.

My sister's expression was as quiet as the winter lake water.

Is it an illusion that you saw all the waves swing there?

"M-02 to M-03. I hope to answer the question. Who's in contact with you?

One of the maids threw an inquiry, keeping an eye on the boy. I had cold eyes. It is the kind of eye that thinks of a trumpeted worm, twisting it or letting it escape, only for a moment. I feel like a helix-wrapped watch in the action. A machine that simply performs predetermined movements according to the impelled power. My sister seemed to be treated as one of a kind by such an inorganic and idle tool. To that fact, the boy feels frightened and angry at the same time.

…………

My sister doesn't answer. Or can't you answer?

"M-02 to M-03. I repeat, please respond. Who will contact you?

…………

"M-03?

On repeated inquiries, my sister shook herself hiccups.

Press it to kill it and correct your posture, then slowly open your mouth.

"... from M-03 to M-02. Answer the question -"

"... eh, Emily?

The boy trembled. Draw a bar when expectations and anxiety creep around in your chest.

Would she recognize herself as her brother now?

Standing beside you, are you fulfilling like a mechanical maid?

fulfillment,

- He's my brother.

She stayed his sister.

"Ah..."

Tears tell the boy's cheeks.

It was a warm tear, unlike what I had shed earlier, mingled with cold sweat.

He remembered me.

He kept me the same.

The only thing is that she's his sister.

My sister turns to her colleagues.

"Suggested from M-03. The remaining subject threat is estimated to be E-. Determine the goal of the combat test to be lacking. We recommend the end of the test and the recovery of the residual subject."

…… From M-02, go to Opus 02. Judgment. "

"Am I?

The swordsman, pointing at the water, scratched his head with gasp.

The boy compares his sister and swordsman over and over with a confused body.

Help me, will you?

"It sure doesn't seem like a slaughter response, and I was tired of killing it for nothing...... hey, your husband! What are you gonna do!?

Raise your voice toward the carriage.

I have no idea what's going on.

- What happened to my sister?

- Will it help me to fulfill myself?

- So, can you be happy with your sister?

Several thoughts run through my head.

There,

"Come on, you're gonna throw it at me there."

A real fear stepped down in front of the boy.

"Ah..."

Even trembling freezes.

... What is this?

The man descended from the carriage, thinking of the maids as leaders and slaves.

Mediocre physique. I don't care what your face looks like. It's not like he has a horrible weapon.

Even so, that just stands there, making me feel worse than ever.

Everything that I've ever experienced, everything that I thought sucked at that time, is behind my brain.

Being irrationally hard on the village hungry general. That my parents scolded me for not even helping me with field work because of my weakness. That when I and my sister were sold into slavery, I was directed by my brothers at humble sympathy and a feeling of inferior superiority. Treatment from slave traders and barn numbers. Farewell to my sister. Days on a sold out ranch. Rough life in the bandits picked up...

Better than adding all that up and multiplying it a hundred times, it's still overwhelmingly disgusting.

"Hih......!?

"Which one?

Not adhering to the frozen boy, he seriously observes him.

Look into its eyes and notice.

This guy is a real monster. A taste of the villages' evil ghosts, adults, officials, nobles, merchants, ranchers, bandits... who have always been on the side of being trampled from them before, intuitively breaks the identity of this.

This must always ravage something to live, it's a monster. No gold, no honor, no power, no knowledge, no love, no dreams, no hope, no matter if it is fulfilled in all that is in this world, you can still live without sacrificing something, a crumb of truth. Such a thing is who this guy is. The only people who can accept something like this are the victims twisted to be that kind of thing by this guy.

The boy can't put into words what he feels. But I still understood.

I must never be able to reconcile myself with this blasphemous, people-shaped talking shit.

"Well, that's not good."

Over my head, words that I don't quite understand fly.

"I've got enough valid data, and even a mouth seal doesn't mean I have no choice but to kill... if you say you're unwilling to kill me, do you mind if I take about one survivor? It's troublesome to stand out, but if you'll take care of me until I treat you, I don't care. Hey, M-03."

That's what he said, and he gave his permission to his sister.

My sister responds to it with the most salute of all.

"Thank you very much for your generosity, Master"

"M-02 to M-03. Congratulations, and thank you to your master, who has mercy on us all."

"M-01, as well"

"B-01, as well"

"B-02, as well"

- Patchy, patchy...

What's this dry hitting noise? Is that applause? Is that applause for the slaves?

I feel nauseous. It's like an evil hobby puppet show. This is the worst-made phallus of human puppets honoring their shitty creators, who have given themselves a whimsical favour.

The boy... vomited impatiently.

"What's up, brother Luc?

"Emily......"

"For those involved only, please call me M-03. Do you feel bad?

Hands on your back, gentle and warm.

With this hand my sister killed a man. The opponents were bandits, even from the point of view of themselves who were companions, villains who had no complaints, even if they died. But even if that were the Savior blessed by 10,000 people, or the newborn baby, he would do the same if he ordered.

"That guy... that did this to you?

"Brother?"

"If I were at that guy's place, it would be irrevocable... it still sucks enough, but I'm sure it would be worse than that"

The other slaves are cleaning up the bodies slaughtered and scattered by swordsmen. Looking sideways at it, the boy appealed to his sister.

"Now...... I'm sure we can still start over now. Remember me, I think I can help. Not yet. But if you stay with me like this, I'm sure you'll get rid of it."

"Are you referring to your husband?

"Oh... so, to, let's get out of here? The two of us..."

"I find it impossible. Your ability to track top individuals exceeds your ability to survive."

"Yes, it doesn't make sense right now. Look at the gap one day. Look, I'm not wearing a collar right now, am I? The magic of obedience hanging on slaves has a way out."

That said, the boy shows his neck by skin kicking his collar.

There was no emotion in my eyes to see it. There seemed to be none.

"Warning. Confirm statements that conflict with treason fingers. Request withdrawal.... M-03 is your husband's property, brother."

"That's not your name! You are Emily, you must be my sister!?

"I affirm. But M-03 discusses it as a possible parallel-"

"No... no! If I admit that you belong to him like that, I don't think I'm your brother!

"Insulting your husband is unacceptable. Pledge your allegiance to your husband. That way, together..."

To the plea of his real brother, his sister repeats her mechanical objections.

Every time he was feeling desperate. Was the spirit of my own sister haunted so far by nothing? It was nicknamed Slave Killer, that nobleman. That wasn't my sister's life, did it kill her heart?

Tears seep through my vision.

... so I guess.

A life form in front of you, showing hostility to your husband. It was not until a doll who had sworn allegiance to the Lord had overlooked the anomaly of complaining so deeply about translations against potential adversaries.

"Absolutely not! Can you obey someone who doesn't even think of slavery as a person!

"... ok"

- Toss.

I heard a noise too light, so insignificant that I would have missed hearing it, from my chest.

"Huh...?

The boy pokes his knee at the ground.

My heart is hot. My body is cold.

My vision, which kept crying and blurring, became even more sumptuous.

When I put my hand on my chest, something hard was growing.

What's this? A knife? Stabbed? To whom?... to my sister?

"Emi, Lee......?

"Hey...... what are you doing!?

A black swordsman can hear footsteps rushing over here.

There were signs that my sister would turn to you.

"... reporting to the top individual Opus 02 from M-03. Confirm to the subject your hostility towards your husband. We decided that translations by persuasion were impossible, and that due process -"

"I know what you're talking about! That's not what this is about, is it?!?

I hear strange interactions.

The man who hung on to kill ourselves looking like we were having fun seems angry that he was stabbed for some reason.

The end of the boy's mouth caught on. Did the man laugh at the inconsistency, or was it just a cramp that his body showed dying? I don't even know myself.

"- The procedure has been carried out. Problem, is there?

"Problems would be everywhere though!? You told me to help him!

"Yes, you're right. I thought that if I could serve your husband with you, my brother, it would be all right - even if you didn't have to."

…………

Oh, and the boy finally realizes.

My sister was trying so hard to help me. So I was desperate, and I looked stuffed with cut feathers - and yet I couldn't believe I was making that face look like a doll, was I wrong?

"?... dude, you're so sweaty. What's the matter with you?"

"Ah...... Uh, from M-03, emergency report. To heartbeat, body temperature, sweating, abnormal occurrence. The body, trembling… autonomous behavior, difficulty. Request rescue from a nearby individual. Requesting rescue... please... please help me..."

... the last time I hear that voice, I will not hear anything.

My consciousness feels like I'm losing it.

Really? If I believed my sister properly, could I live with her?

The boy laughs at his stupidity for overlooking it.

... I thought at the same time.

But in order to do so, we must say to the Lord, that monster.

Do you live with your heart turned into a puppet? Jump it off, and someone who has become a doll hangs it on his hand and dies.

The boy was swallowed by the darkness of death while cursing a world that only allowed such two choices.

"Do you regret it?

In a face-to-face seat, the maid said, lending her shoulders to the Lord who fell asleep. Dooey can't live up to it.

The carriage is already running out again.

Turius Ovenil has done the same for M-03, who panicked, and when he finishes it he says two or three words of stupidity to the incident he keeps standing before deciding to sleep. On that sleeping face, Dooe had some doubts.

"... regret what?"

"The definition of the question was vague. Apologize.... do you regret that your husband saved you?

Keep your head down small, then Uni asks again.

It was the most unwanted question right now.

"Heh. What would you do if I answered yes to that? Why don't we just get rid of it with some sensai-tech tequigeicin?

Raise the question to mix it back. Mainly if you exchange revenge, it is the maid of the ovenil who doesn't even hate killing flesh parents. I was wondering if it was the only question I could ever return a denial if my life was spared.

It was an undressed eight-win. Just because I know it myself, I get more frustrated.

"It's a pointless question. We do not have the ability to have such a thing. dissatisfaction, distrust, or disgust. These things can happen, but they're being adjusted so they don't lead to hostilities against your husband."

I feel a relief in that answer. Once Tullius hit his head, even if he hated him as much as a snake scorpion, his emotions would never go away and he would continue to serve him. Regardless, I'm talking about this efficiency guy, if the impact that it has on him crosses the negative threshold, it won't be as long as...

"What a hassle..."

"Without such dissatisfaction with the current situation, desire, etc., it will not be possible to give your husband any advice or advice."

"That's what we talked about... Didn't the mass-produced guys say they eliminated emotion?

Uni sighed. I don't have a look, but somehow I feel like I've been mocked.

"Your husband said you 'restricted'. 'Eliminated' has not been done"

'- Well, mass production types that need to be aligned with homogeneous performance are considerably limited by emotion -'

Oh, yeah. Indeed, that is what the Lord said.

"I have a story to tell you. I once made a slave that completely eliminated emotion in an experiment, but that was too impossible to use as a tool for your husband. I left the five senses behind, but if I give them pain, they won't respond to it. Even if you're in pain, you're not trying to do anything about it. Even if the senses are maintained, they won't be linked to action without a passion for it, right? Whether or not, you can set instructions in advance to deal with the sensations that arise.... Do you see what this means?

"Oh, unwillingly -"

Avoid hurting.

I eat when I'm hungry.

A puppet who needs to write instructions to make such a normal move. It's better than making something like that.

"- It's better to use a certain emotion from the beginning than to take such a hassle. This is what this is all about, isn't it?

"Yes, you're right. And if you leave your emotions, they are linked to your senses, and your emotions are maintained. Motivated by emotions, actions arise - so instead of eliminating emotions, a way was adopted to limit autonomy and fidelity to the extremes at which they could combine. However, it is inevitable that this will still undermine autonomy and the flexibility of thought. So sometimes they can't be used by superior individuals like us, who deal with great discretion."

It's only a way for soldiers, I add.

Dooey is also a former adventurer. Solo was the creed, but I know about the role of the leader. When your head can't think of anything on its own and what you do is done once and for all, that party has no future. Myself and Uni are the leaders, the mass-produced ones are the members who receive that instruction, and Turius is… the clients and guilds who send themselves out in danger.

"Then why can't you just be as obedient and anti-treason as I am? Sounds easier that way, and you don't have to be hard headed, do you?

You seem sturdy enough, but don't tell me.

"Besides, the next moment I'm going to stab the person I was trying to help, I'm not going to take any meaningless action either. I can't believe you dared to do that."

"Don't get me wrong. This one's more cumbersome. Leaving the majority of your emotions behind, I won't make your husband submit and just hostile to your husband - that's like pulling out a basket full of eggs when cooking eggs and only two mixed rotten eggs. This will take a while, but you can make a big omelet at once, right? Conversely, a way to limit the majority of emotions is like choosing one fresh egg and then throwing it away. The omelet will be smaller, but it will save you a lot of time"

It was a made-to-measure metaphor.

If Dooey chooses to metaphor himself... yes, bags and gold coins. Powerful individuals like ourselves, if you ask me, are big bags of money. In order to use it for large payments at a time, the bad coins mixed with good coins are picked out in advance by pulling them over in the bag. Mass production slaves use purses for small purchases. Where there was a mix of crude currencies, you could just give out a piece of good money when you pay. If you don't give them bad money, that's fine. If you don't spend a lot of money, I'm just saying it's easier that way.

"... it's a bad story about chest shit. Is the body still handling things efficiently, even the mind"

"Now that's more of a story. We're all your husband's things."

So, Uni repeats.

"Back to the first question, do you regret it? In exchange for your life, that it became your husband's thing."

- That's what I'm talking about.

Tilt your neck and see the view out the window. There is no such thing as that boy in the landscape that flows away. And the bandits I cut off. Before it rotted and scattered the virus, before it became undead and resurrected, it had been properly treated and buried.

Subtracting the last act, the killing you called a test was not pleasant. Only the first half was intoxicated by the pleasure of moving the strengthened body and the achievement of habit. When I got tired of the lack of response, I was later inert and waving my sword. It's like starving consolation. I didn't even know what I was waving my sword for. The sword, and being strong, should have been the very purpose of your life.

said Turius. Give everything for your life. Shake the sword for the LORD himself.

The price of the contract with the devil had begun to strip out its intolerable face as soon as possible.

"I regret it, not now. But..."

Disconnect the untrained outside the window and turn back to the passengers.

"- There's that now, because you're alive, right? Then believe me, one day I'll write it off, and I'll keep living."

It was a conceited way of answering, unlike the Dooey of bonelessness itself.

It doesn't seem - I mean, it's a strength.

But it was also hard to tell a complete lie. Money if you live, it is an idea that is not uncommon for adventurers. However, Dooe had better die satisfactorily as a swordsman if he were to die. I hate that you're not. So I also rode the devilish alchemist's invitation to prolong my life until I got it.

Meditate on the possibility that you are no longer satisfied as a swordsman.

If you're alive, one day you'll be written off.... really?

Even so, the only thing Dooey can do is wave his sword. As long as you live, while deceiving your conscience and even cutting off your possessions.

"Really?"

When he hears the answer, Uni sees softly the Lord who is capable of his own shoulders.

It was faceless, but it was an eye that reminded me of my mother somewhere. Are you merciful of the ovenil, or are you seeing through Doue's vanity?

"I think I understand why your husband found you."

"Am I?"

"I'm sure you felt something similar to yourself somewhere."

The expression remains the same. But that exhalation seeps in extraordinary emotions.

Apparently my reply was a preferred one for her and her subjects of loyalty.

Never honestly can he be happy with it, and the swordsman who loses his life flaunts his shoulder.

"That's an honor. I didn't know the lord of the famous [Silver Wolf] was like me."

"You have a misunderstanding [two-handed sword]. Similar means different. Your husband and you cannot be similar or joint."

That interrupted the conversation.

Regularly sounding horseshoes and irregular swings in the sound of the wheels, and only the Lord's small sleep dominates the narrow space.

Can't you get to your destination soon? I don't feel what I can wait for.

"Next… Experiment…"

When I heard such a bedtime speech, my anxiety just got bigger.