Casual Heroing

“Please, please, don’t kill me!”

I look at a young girl, no older than fifteen.

“Were you with them?” I say with my gun trained on her.

“I was just hitching a ride, miss! I wanted to see the half-giants!”

She saw my face.

Should have worn a mask.

Putain.

“You come from Keveiz?”

“No! No! I have hitched another ride to Keveiz, I come from Malki!”

Malki?

I rack my brain and finally something comes to me. It’s a huge city full of different races, governed by a senate made of representatives. It’s basically a city-state. I look at the ring on my hand, a truth stone I stole from a [Merchant], the gem changing color to blue inconspicuously.

“What’s your name?”

“My name’s Via!” she says, more and more agitated.

Again blue.

“Via, do you have any intention of giving me away to the [Merchants]?”

“No! No! Absolutely no! I’m no rat!”

The truth stone on my ring flashes blue, but lighter.

“Have you tattled about anyone else in the past?”

She goes silent.

“I can help you! I can help!” she blurts out frantically. “You need someone to clean up, right?! I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty! I can work for you! Please, don’t kill me! Please!”

“Class and levels, Via,” I tell her.

She cringes but nods.

“I’m a [Vagabond], level 7. And a [Tailor], level 11. I do repairs for clothes and other odd jobs to get some money!”

The ring flashes light blue.

“What’s the third class?”

“It’s—[Pickpocket].”

“Are you an orphan?”

“Yes,” she says plainly.

Both times, the ring flashed blue.

Pure blue.

“That’s good. No one to tattle to, then. Listen, I don’t need to kill you, but I do need to start recruiting people. Strip everyone of their bag of holdings, then put their corpses in a chest of holding. That should help avoid the rot.”

She nods and turns.

“If you stick with me, I’ll make you rich. If you try to run, just know that this is the eight hit in three days. I’ve killed so many [Merchants] and idiots who thought they could run…”

She just goes her way while I rest for a second against the tree. The wound in my leg is still closing. The health potion takes a little longer when the wound is deep, and I think I did some damage while removing the arrow.

…

I look at the wagons, three of them, quite tall and wide compared to the other ones. People don’t need uniformity here. They are clearly better made than the previous ones.

“Via, do these people have any way of communicating or tracing their goods?”

The girl, who now has some blood on her, shrugs.

“Not really. They are not carrying relics or anything crazy. No one would bother. And even if they did have a way to communicate, those Cantamen usually wear out pretty fast. So, again, they would just think that the enchantment has died.”

Good.

“Let’s start loading these two wagons, then. We’ll bring them to Leggiadra. Just drive the third through the forest. There’s a cliff where I’ve been throwing the others. Then, we’ll load them.”

…

“Did you really have to kill the horse?” she asks me with a frown.

“People could find the horse and put two and two together.”

“Those wagons could also fetch a good price,” she looks down at the cliff.

“I have enough chests of holding that even if I emptied them I’d still be rich from those.”

“What’s my cut?” Via asks.

“Your life, for now.”

…

“Problem?” I say suddenly opening my eyes.

“We need to let the horses rest. No one is on our tracks.”

We ditched the third wagon and kept only two to be faster. I was finally sleeping a little. But a little means that it’s now pitch dark.

“What time is it?”

“Late?”

I scoff and look at a watch on my wrist. It’s 25:00. Basically 23:00 in Earth’s time. I wish I watched more documentaries back on Earth to explain how it’s possible that days here are longer. Could it be a slower rotation, a bigger planet? What is it, really?

I look at Via’s dirty blonde hair and her lean body while she stops and gives some feed to the horses. I might be a very experienced woman in many aspects, but horse-feeding is something that I had completely forgotten. Having someone take care of the horses is good. More than good, excellent.

A rare smile goes over my mouth as I think of Via as my little goon, as in I’m the supervillain and she’s the practical second in command who takes care of the day to day stuff. That’s what happens in start-ups and big companies: the CEO takes care of the big picture, and the poor COO, the second in command, is stuck dealing with the real problems threating to sink their boat.

…

It would be pitch dark if I didn’t have a magical lantern by my side. Via’s sleeping while I’m driving. ‘Driving’ is a strong word for keeping the course of the horses. They naturally follow the tracks and could probably go on their own even if I didn’t touch the reins. They are a working version of the Tesla autopilot, basically. And probably more ecological, greener. A horse’s fart flies over to me and Via, sleeping by my side, and I snort.

Horses.

We are not too far from Leggiadra, but the real question is how much money is the stuff I’m hauling there worth. And should have I left some of this in a stash in the woods? What if they rob me blind? But I don’t know if people with tracking skills could have made out the stash among the woods. I’m not robbing the [Merchants] to just let them reclaim most of it later on.

If things go the wrong way, it will get bloody. Very bloody. Half-giants can probably take a 9mm shot to the chest without dying. Maybe even more. Their muscle-skeletal structure is very different from Humans. They are not just tall, they are sturdy. They are a Human looking version of Trolls. And that’s a very speciesist thing to say.

I don’t have larger calibers for handguns and I can’t just swoop in with a sniper rifle. Also, the recoil is too great for—

[Gun: Greater Recoil Reduction]

Right.

I have skills now.

But I don’t want to waste bullets. Thankfully, I’m a woman and I always put more than I need in my bags. Bullets, I have enough for now. It’s going to be a problem in the long term, but nothing impossible to take care of. Smokeless gunpowder and heavy machinery? If the Glass and Steel District is really as good as they say, it’s going to be fine.

…

I approach the gates with the wagons and wave toward Cordius.

…

“Explain it to me, again,” Cordius says calmly in his office.

“I killed nine groups of Human [Merchants] from Keveiz. I robbed them. And I brough a great amount of ore and other alchemical components here in chests of holdings. Some of them might have some blood. I also have the corpses if you need to identify them.”

“And you are telling this story to an member of the Watch because?”

“You are more than a member of the Watch, aren’t you?”

Cordius licks his big lips and frowns.

“Did anyone see you?”

“One girl survived, Via, an orphan. She’s with me downstairs. She has no bonds with Keveiz nor any particular Humans. She’s also a [Pickpocket].”

“And I can’t see your class anymore.”

“Some of those [Merchants] had good artifacts.”

Cordius puts his elbows on the desk and rests his face between his hands.

“Do you have an estimate of how much all this cargo would fetch on the market?”

“Had Via make a checklist,” I say while handing over a few sheets of papers.

Cordius raises his head and taken the sheets. He reads in silence through them, raising his eyebrows multiple times.

“How many people did you have to kill?” he asks calmly.

“Forty, give or take.”

“There’s enough gold and resources to kickstart a new city, Cassandre.”

“Or just regenerate this one for a while. I have projects, Cordius. I would like to arm the half-giants. This is a show of good faith. The Humans will never have me after I killed a third of their [Merchants] and stole so much. The corpses will be a display of loyalty. If you can organize a meeting with whoever runs the Glass and Still District, I could bring weapons to this world that would put you back in business.”

Cordius puts the sheets in his bag of holding and stares at me for a few seconds.

“I need to talk to some people. I’ll keep the other Human in my office if you don’t mind. And I guess that you already took what you needed from the [Merchants]. I’ll have the wagons disappear and we can discuss about the loot later. Now, I have to go. Hang around the city. I’ll send someone to fetch you as soon as things are ready.”

“Sure.”

“Rizilius’s ears,” the giant swears before going out of the door.

…

“So, I have to stay here?” Via looks around Cordius’s office. “They don’t trust me. You are my insurance, in a way. Or maybe they just want to question you separately. Just tell the truth. I already explained a bit of what I’m going to do, right?”

“Not really,” Via says uneasily.

I’m not surprised by her attitude. This is the big leagues. From petty thief to organized crime in a few days—that’s a big promotion. But what I really liked about the whole thing was that Cordius clearly knows what he’s doing. He knows that after all I just did there’s no need for long discussions about my loyalty or anything like that. And there’s no way they are not interested in what I have to offer now.

“The best introduction,” I explain to Via, “is the one where they want to meet you. Not the other way around. Never beg. Never seem greedy. Bring a good product to the table, make them notice you, and wait. If I die today, you should try and start a business this way.”

…

It’s been almost a month in Earth’s time. Less for this world. But it’s still been quite a while since I last saw that old bag. Reading some of the great deeds of Vanedenis while I waited for the [Merchants] to show kept me good company. And if what I’ve read is true, Kome is where I want to bring my guns, where I want to fight. People like Vanedenis… [Heroes]…

It makes you think. I never really had doubts about my life. To be more precise, I never wanted to face them. They are inconvenient. Why overthink when you can keep moving forward? Never look back if you don’t want to lose your sanity, like Orpheus.

Many questioned the morality of what I do, the ‘what ifs.’ But what if you simply go straight, what if you don’t stop? If I ever started questioning my life, I’d probably go crazy. Or maybe I would have never embarked on the journey that made me the woman I am. What happens when you have a head like mine, and you don’t use it? Should have I just wasted my talents and ambitions for my father’s business? Should have I gone around baking baguettes? Sure, I could have made that into a huge chain business, but to what end? What is really important in this life, baguettes? Or is it freedom, fighting the right wars? If you have the heart of a general, is it not a crime when you choose to be a simple civilian?

I suddenly smell blood when I turn the corner where Marzallium’s Books is supposed to be.