In a district, beneath the city walls in the square.
Banks hoisted his axe, severing a mutated alligator's leg. He then raised his elbow to wipe away the sweat from his forehead and straightened up to face the man before him.
This man had golden hair, wore a silver-white suit, red shoes, sunglasses, and held a black umbrella. Banks remarked, "In these times, finding someone as immaculately dressed as you is rare. I hear you wish to hire our entire district? Our price isn't low. After all, I have many brothers to feed."
The man in red shoes replied, "One thousand kilograms of pure beef, two thousand kilograms of pure flour, and a thousand kilograms of various vegetables. Is that enough?"
"Is this for real? Who's worth that much? What did they do to make you want them dead at such a high price?"
Banks discarded his axe and approached a rainwater puddle to wash his hands, preparing to properly welcome this wealthy individual. Such resources could last quite a while.
The man in the red shoes remained expressionless. "When it's time to act, you'll know. I can't tell you now."
"Eh?"
As Banks grabbed a towel to dry his hands, he said, "I'm no fool. To pay such a price, I need to know who the target is. Let me tell you, there might be only two people in the world worth this price, ming or Gutman. Besides, even if you offered more for these two, I wouldn't dare take the job."
The man in the red shoes fell silent.
Setting down his towel, Banks, sensing the man's hesitation, lost his initial urge to extend a handshake. Sitting on a wooden stump, he gazed at the man in red shoes and inquired, "It's not one of those two, is it? If so, please leave. I won't take that job."
Elsewhere in a desolate wilderness, hundreds were hunting a three-star imperial beast.
"Kill Gutman?" Bain, leading the hunt, gave the man in red shoes a cursory glance and handed back the list, stating, "Though we're running low on supplies, we can still manage to survive. We don't want a swift death. Seek those truly desperate outlaws instead."
The man in red shoes challenged, "You dare not?"
Bain replied, "They killed the Sun Empire's king over a secretary, and now you want me to kill the man himself. Please tell me, what makes you think I'm a fool? Tell me, and I'll change."
In a particular district, a ferocious and bizarrely dressed group stood behind their leader, Swinton, who carefully reviewed the list in his hand. He spoke to the man in red shoes, "This price is tempting. I can help you with this task, but first, you must tell me whose head is worth so much."
The man in red shoes slightly furrowed his brow, pulling out a portrait. He said, "This person goes by the nickname 'Fierce Man,' often seen in Trading City."
"Ah~"
ραΠdαsΝοvεl.cοm Swinton, taking the portrait and studying it, revealed a flash of surprise in his eyes. Glancing at the man in red shoes, he paused momentarily before saying, "Alright, I agree. Please pay the deposit first. Do you want him alive or dead? How should I contact you after it's done?"
"After you've killed him, hang the body in Trading City, and I'll contact you then. As for the deposit..."
The man in red shoes produced a key. "In Grey Town within the region, on the second street, there are a few white abandoned trucks. The deposit is inside the truck compartments. Of course, don't try any tricks with me."
"Heh heh~"
Swinton took the key with a smile, countering, "Your first time hiring an assassin? So afraid that I'll take your money and run? Don't worry about that. You should know, my principle is 'customer first.'"
...
Trading City.
"In my heart, the Gutman family is foremost."
Swinton handed the key to David and looked up at Mike, standing nearby. He said, "The moment I saw that portrait, I knew it was Mike. I didn't alert the fellow at the time. After he left, to prevent being followed, I changed my clothes and took a roundabout way to get here."
"Very well~" Mike responded, his voice brimming with anticipation.
David glanced at the key and handed it to Ming, who was teasing a Bull Terrier named Henry with Digennaro. Ming's eyes flashed with excitement as he took the key, placing it on Henry's nose for a good sniff. After that, Ming handed the key back to David, exchanging a knowing glance with him.
David understood and shoved the key into Swinton's hand. "All those things are yours. We don't want them. But you need to help us with one more thing."
"Um... I don't want those things in the truck. Could you let me join the group instead? Become a part of this big family?" Swinton said, immediately adding, "Or you could tell me what you want me to do first, and I'll join after that's done."
Mike, standing to the side, came over and patted Swinton's shoulder. "Seeing your sincerity, I'll be your reference once you've completed the task."
"Great~ Thank you~," Swinton said, then asked, "What would you like me to do?"
David pointed at Mike and told Swinton, "In a couple of days, help me kill him."
"!!"
Swinton was greatly shocked at these words.
Really kill?
He looked around at everyone, wanting to leave the couch but not daring to get up. He hurriedly said, "Maybe... maybe I should just go. You should handle your family matters yourself. I can't really do this."
Mainly, he knew very well that he couldn't kill Mike, who possessed strong skills. Plus, how could they be so calm about killing one of their own in front of each other?
"You sit down first."
Mike pressed Swinton back into the couch, saying, "You must kill me."
Swinton looked around the room, his face filled with anguish. He thought to himself that he had never heard of the Gutman family forcing others to kill their own before.
Eh... he saw that everyone in the room was laughing. He suddenly understood. They were acting, right? They should've said so earlier. He was so nervous!
"You need to help with one more thing."
This time, Ming looked at Swinton.
"What is it? Please tell me."
"It's simple. You just need to be there that day."
A moment later, Swinton left through the back door.
Ming said, "For the smooth implementation of the program only a few of us should know about Mike's 'death.'"
"Understood!" they replied in unison, their faces filled with determination as they prepared for the plan that lay ahead.
[Napoleon sat atop the armored wild boar, with the flying leech to his left and Medusa to his right. They halted, focusing on the massive zombie ahead, wielding a small tree, engaged in combat with a giant mantis.]
Mike and David nodded in unison.
Digennaro, seated beside them, finally spoke, "Mike, your funeral approaches. How do you feel?"
Mike patted a girl's head, "Eat less."
...
Two days later, messages flooded the global chat channels:
"Mike, travel well. We will remember your name."
"Mike's spirit, Mike's righteousness, none can compare. I love you."
"Farewell, Mike. We'll look after your wife."
[...]
In Trade City, melancholic tunes played. Ming sobbed uncontrollably, squeezing a wet cloth into his eyes as he wiped his tears.
David, consumed with grief, stood aside. Hawkins, leading a group of wood element masters, showered the skies with flowers.
Alan manipulated puppets, nine centipedes pulling a coffin. Thousands mourned in the streets of Trade City. Swinton, bound and dangling like a wrapped delicacy, swayed on the tail of a giant scorpion.
He finally understood Mr. Gutman's words: his mere presence was enough. Indeed, there was nothing to do but hang there.
Bystanders on both sides of the street exchanged glances.
"Mike of the Gutman family is dead. Rumor says he was assassinated."
"His body was hung in the Trade City square early this morning, a gruesome sight."
"Whoever dared this, rivers of blood will flow."
"Rivers of blood? They say culprits span three districts; corpses will litter the ground."
"Is that Mike's lady? Look how she's withered."
"..."
The Serpent Lady, draped in burlap, held a portrait frame, her face etched with sorrow. Digennaro, walking beside and supporting her, seeing her in such a state, Digennaro consoled, "Sister-in-law, do not grieve too deeply. Death comes to us all. Both you and I will meet that fate someday."
"~~"
The Serpent Lady's sorrow deepened.
Digennaro, observing her sister-in-law's desolate expression, couldn't resist the urge, to tell the truth, but didn't want to jeopardize the plan. She chimed, "What if, by some fortunate fate, Mike comes back to life? Right?"
The Serpent Lady shook her head, sobbing, "Don't comfort me. Even if he returned, he'd be a zombie, still destined to die."
Digennaro nodded, "You have a point."
Alice, on the other hand, was speechless.
Inside the coffin, Mike lay there, munching on a strip of meat, attuned to the commotion outside. At that moment, he felt oddly content, experiencing his own funeral in advance. It was notably more lively than Gutman's funeral, leaving him with no regrets.
Yet, glimpsing through the tiny holes at the sight of his wife's grieving silhouette, a pang of guilt tugged at his heart. "I'm sorry, my love."
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