I'm the Crazy One in the Family-Chapter 75: If You’re Curious, Bring Me Five Million Gold (2)

The more Keter thought of it, there were so many fruits in his past life that he wasn’t able to harvest. Cork, the branch manager of the Liqueur Mercenary Guild, was one of them.

In his past life, Keter went looking for Cork after he returned from Sefira, only to find out he had gone missing. It wasn’t like he would have gone into hiding just because he knew Keter was coming back. Most of all, it was odd that Keter couldn’t find him anywhere.

Cork had something he was looking for in Liqueur. While Keter didn’t know exactly what he was after, he assumed it was probably some treasure—Liqueur has everything, after all. He probably didn’t find it since if he did, he would have flaunted it everywhere.

Back then, Keter and Cork weren’t close enough for Keter to go out of his way to track him down when he left no clues. At the time, Keter just thought it was a shame and moved on.

But now?

Not a chance.

Keter visited the mercenary guild for unrelated business, but Cork happened to be there. If it had been anyone else in his position, he would’ve simply negotiated for a Diamond-class recognition tag. But with Cork as the branch manager? Keter was killing three birds with one stone: he would get the tag, the satisfaction of revenge, and the happiness that came with it.

Happiness came in many forms, but the kind that stems from revenge was rare and precious. Usually, Keter got revenge on the spot, so Cork was the first to be held onto for this long. That made it all the more special.

"Before we start, why don’t I indulge in an old habit?"

There was a routine Keter always followed in Liqueur. It was something that he actually did just four days ago, but it felt new as he had regressed. It was something the Keter now hadn’t done in decades.

It’s that time of day to do it. But first, I need to get rid of the kid who's been trailing me—Luke. I brought him along to raise him, but I feel like a mother bird these days. Isn’t it about time he showed some initiative?

“Luke, I have a very important mission for you.”

Luke’s eyes sparkled as he heard Keter. Honestly, knights lived for anything labeled a mission.

“Circle around Liqueur and gather clues about the Red Comet. You’ll have to go alone. Think you can manage?”

He would do it even without Keter asking like this, but he phrased it as a challenge. Then, Luke would have to protect his ego and insist he could handle it.

“Separate missions?”

Does he really see me as a mother bird, or was Liqueur more overwhelming than I thought?

“You want to go together?”

“... Splitting up would yield more information, I suppose...”

Keter could tell from Luke’s hesitation that he wasn’t confident about roaming around Liqueur alone.

All the more reason Luke needs to. How else is he going to toughen up? You have to hammer the soft parts of his soul and carve him into something sharp. That increases his chances of surviving alone later on, and eventually, he will grow into my hidden ace.

“Where should we meet up if I find anything?” Luke asked.

“Finding me is part of your mission.”

“I’ll head back to the office where we arrived.”

“Sure. If you can manage it.”

Luke didn’t understand what Keter was saying.

Does he think my office is some inn anyone can wander into? I’ve poured so much into setting it up. Without my permission, no one can even perceive it. If one tried to force their way in, the gatekeeper would deal with them.

“Got it. I’ll be back.”

“Go on.”

After Luke left, Keter gestured with a finger to the ones secretly watching from the shadows.

“Gather.”

At his command, mercenaries who had sided with Keter emerged from various hiding spots and formed a group in front of me. One stepped forward, probably planning to speak, but he cut him off.

“Hold it. I already know what you’re about to say. Your debts are settled. You owe me nothing now. And as for the Red Comet, I’ll handle that myself. I don’t need your help.”

These guys were probably following Keter to make sure he resolved the debts they owed him. Another possible reason was to see if he would actually take on the request properly, as they had now fallen out of Cork’s favor by siding with him.

When Keter confirmed their settled debts, the mercenaries exchanged glances, preparing to disband.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not finished. I have a job for you.”

Keter pulled out five bills from his pocket. Each was a thousand gold.

“This is a three hundred-gold job, five hundred if you count the Platinum-class rates. You know that kid I’ve been with, Luke? He’s wandering around Liqueur right now.”

“You want us to guard the brat?”

“Don’t act chummy, Jackson. Do I look like your friend?”

“S-sorry.”

“Ambush him with the intent to kill, but make it more dangerous each time you do it. Anyone here not understand what I’m saying?”

The mercenaries looked dumbfounded.

Jackson stepped up and asked, “Isn’t he with you? Why do you want us to ambush him?”

“He’s a rising star that I’m growing.”

“You want us to be his training opponents.”

Jackson frowned, as if his pride had been hurt. It was understandable as he was a Platinum-class mercenary.

In terms of skill, Luke was barely at a Gold-class level without his special abilities. On top of that, there was no bigger penalty in battle than fighting with a bow in Liqueur’s busy streets.

“No need to go easy on him. Actually try to kill him.”

“I guess that kid Luke has something up his sleeve. Then, isn’t there a chance of us dying?”

“You guys are lucky. Luke still hesitates a lot. Even if you guys charge at him, he will probably just shoot you guys in the arms and legs.”

Liqueur was a tough place already, but Luke had an overpowered special ability of sensing danger and misfortune. Normal ways weren’t enough to keep him on guard.

“If you’re going to take this request, come here and take the money. If not, get lost.”

“There will be no disadvantages even if we refuse, right?”

“Stop acting like an amateur. We’re all pros here.”

Keter wouldn’t beat them up here for refusing. However, if something were to happen involving him in the future, it could impact whose side he took.

All relationships are like that, are they not?

“I’ll do it,” Jackson quickly declared.

That led the other mercenaries to follow suit.

The pay was pretty good, and they were already on Cork’s bad side. The only way for them to survive was to get on Keter’s good side. Of course, they would only gain something if he became the branch manager; otherwise, they would have to live in hiding.

Keter gave the mercenaries five thousand gold as payment. The mercenaries divided that up amongst themselves and disbanded.

Now, Keter had taken care of Luke and the mercenaries.

I can finally do that thing.

Liqueur, for what it was worth, had a plaza. It was quite different from the kind of plaza one would find in a proper city, though. Still, it was a vast, open space teeming with people coming and going.

“Hmm, as expected—a total mess.”

The chaos and disorder that greeted Keter upon arriving at the plaza somehow gave him a strange sense of calm. In one corner, people were fighting like their lives depended on it; others were begging, pickpocketing, or selling goods spread out on blankets. It was full of all sorts of characters.

What was amusing was that the people of Liqueur had a default way of interacting: hitting each other on the shoulder. Nobody ever stepped aside, whether someone had a spike sticking out of their shoulder or not, they couldn’t care less.

Then, if someone was in a particularly bad mood, they would throw a punch, and just like that, a fight would break out on the spot.

Keter walked straight toward the heart of this chaotic scene.

* * *

Amidst the chaos of fists, curses, suspicion, and killing intent in the plaza, Keter walked leisurely. It was a strange sight. While everyone else jostled and collided with each other to move forward, no one blocked his path. It was as though an invisible barrier surrounded him.

He turned his steps toward the center of a brawl. In that brutal fight, where bones cracked and flesh tore, no fist ever came near him.

“I’m borrowing this.”

Keter nonchalantly plucked a cigarette from the pocket of a thug in the middle of the fight and put it in his mouth.

Just then, another man was shoved toward Keter from behind. Instead of falling over, the thug grabbed him by the collar, stopping him from falling into Keter.

“Phew. My first one in decades. Strong stuff.”

Coughing lightly, Keter kept puffing on the cigarette and walked into the middle of the plaza. When he arrived, a small, empty circle naturally formed around him.

“Take your eyes off for just a moment, and dust gathers this quickly.”

He casually swept at the dust with his foot and glanced up at the sky.

“Perfect weather for a nap.”

Then he lay on the ground, resting his head on his left arm and using a handkerchief stolen earlier from Luke’s pocket to cover his face.

He drifted off to sleep, undisturbed by the noise around him. Large groups of people passed by, but no one approached him. However, one person watched him from afar. Among the mercenaries who were following him earlier, one chose not to accept his task. His name was Hansen, and unlike the others, he was stealthily tailing Keter.

“Keter, you’re underestimating the Red Comet far too much.”

Hansen touched the long scar that ran diagonally across his face, a memento from his battle with the infamous Named Monster, the Red Comet.

“I would have died too if not for the Blade Demon.”

In the past, the Godfather had led a hunt for the Red Comet, with Blade Demon Balt spearheading the mission. Hansen had been part of the hunting team as he had professionally learned tracking, but he wasn’t the only one. Numerous different trackers scoured the wilderness for three long months.

What they finally found was... small and cute. It was a fluffy white creature, no larger than a fist. The Red Comet was, in reality, a tiny bat.

But it was still a monster.

In the blink of an eye, blood spurted from the necks of the hunters who attacked first. None of them even realized what had happened. The white bat absorbed the blood, making it grow faster. With every red flash, more corpses lay on the ground.

The blood that should have spilled onto the ground swirled around the bat, orbiting it like a powerful shield and unstoppable weapon. It tore through everything—buildings, people, all of it.

Hansen had faced death when the bat’s blade of blood swept toward him. Summoning every ounce of courage he had, he swung his Aura Blade in desperation. But the bat’s blood shield, which looked more like a blob of blood, blocked the attack, and Hansen braced himself for the end.

In that critical moment, Blade Demon Balt appeared. Arriving in a flash, Balt unleashed a whirlwind of sword strikes, giving Hansen the chance to survive. Instead of splitting him in two, the bat left him with a scar on his face.

Hansen witnessed firsthand why Balt was called the Blade Demon. His every action, every glance—everything about him became a strike and slashed the Red Comet. But even Balt couldn’t overpower it, and the fight ended in a draw.

Exhausted from using most of its absorbed blood, the Red Comet fled, but Balt didn’t chase it. No, he couldn’t, as it fled three times faster than its attacks.

“Keter, I know you’re strong. As a Solver, you don’t take on what you can’t handle. But this time, you can’t afford to be so carefree.”

The Reaper’s Hollow, one of Liqueur’s Twelve Legends, referred to the small circle that formed around Keter as he napped in the plaza. Anyone foolish enough to approach him during this time would end up crippled, no exceptions. The peace Keter enjoyed was earned through countless demonstrations of this truth.

But Hansen stepped closer to Keter. Even if it meant becoming crippled, he was determined to tell him, but then he stopped. Someone else had reached Keter before him.

Hansen recognized them as other mercenaries that had stood behind Cork.

“Don’t tell me...”

Hansen expected the worst, and it ended up coming true.

Weapons in hand, the mercenaries moved toward Keter without hesitation.

“Keter! It’s an ambush! Get up!” Hansen shouted at the top of his lungs, but his voice was drowned out by the clamor of the plaza.

Keter didn’t wake up, not hearing Hansen, and four mercenaries closed in on him, weapons raised, and swung down.