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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Farewell to Brea Village
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"...Ugh, uwaaaah! Uwaaaah!"
A moment later, Jefferson realized that the scream came from his own hand being sliced off while it was embedded in the artifact. Clutching his arm, he let out a piercing shriek.
"No, this can't be! My magic, my magiiiic!"
Unable to accept the reality before his eyes, Jefferson bellowed at the top of his lungs.
His desperate state was so pitiful that Jeon briefly wondered if he should explain how he'd done it.
'I just compressed a small part of the back of his clothes a bit...'
Until now, he'd used rune magic with the meaning of 'Compression' to shrink targets to dust-like sizes, but it wasn't limited to that.
It was also possible to compress only the desired spot to the desired degree.
'It's trickier when mana is involved or when using it on objects or living beings.'
Still, applying it to the ordinary clothes Jefferson was wearing wasn't too difficult.
In fact, it used far less mana than compressing the weapon itself into dust.
"My mana burst... Why..."
Moreover, there was something off about Jefferson's anguished cry.
What he'd done wasn't magic at all—it was just a simple mana discharge, concentrating and firing mana.
Without going through the casting process of Magic Language and geometric construction, it was nothing but a waste of mana.
The artifact's abundant mana had allowed him to gather and shoot enough to kill a person, but otherwise, it wouldn't have been useful for anything lethal.
"Whyyy..."
Meanwhile, Jefferson's shouts began to weaken.
It was because he'd lost so much blood—not just to the artifact's absorption, but also from his severed arm.
Jeon looked down at him for a moment before approaching the severed arm on the floor and pulling out the embedded artifact.
"Uh... Uhhh..."
Seeing Jeon do this, Jefferson thrashed about as if trying to do something, but his body no longer obeyed his will.
"..."
Even though the man deserved death, watching him flail in his final moments wasn't exactly pleasant.
On top of that, some mana still lingered in his body, so despite the massive blood loss, he was still breathing.
"Time to end this."
He'd die on his own soon enough if left alone, but Jeon didn't want to let him go that way.
He didn't want to watch the pathetic struggling, either.
More than that, the girl's memories still lingered in his mind.
He wanted to avenge her in her place.
Puuk.
So Jeon raised his sword and plunged it deep into Jefferson's chest.
With that final blow, Jefferson's prolonged life came to an end.
Confirming it, Jeon sheathed his sword without regret and left the hut.
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In a small village like Brea, daily life always repeated itself.
If compared to Jeon's previous life, it was an endlessly boring place where nothing exciting ever happened—no dopamine hits at all.
But Brea Village hadn't been like that these past few days.
"Jefferson, that guy, was a murderer?"
"No way! Though, come to think of it, the creepy way he strutted around always gave me the chills!"
"My daughter... my daughter was killed by that bastard...!"
After Jeon killed Jefferson.
He had exposed every single atrocity the man had committed while staying in the village.
"Thinking back, that's when the beast and monster attacks started plaguing our quiet village all of a sudden!"
"To think the hunter we trusted did such things!"
In particular, most of the casualties from the monthly beast or monster incidents had been fabricated by Jefferson to cover up his murders.
And Jeon, who had uncovered it all and taken down the culprit Jefferson, now commanded sky-high prestige.
"Jeon! My dad's coming over to our house for dinner today! He's even making meat stew!"
"Right! You said you needed clothes, didn't you? I've got this really treasured outfit—want to come try it on? Seina made it herself..."
Now, just passing by got him invitations to eat or offers of gifts.
And they always had to throw their daughters into the mix.
Jeon was getting fed up enough to hole up in his house for a day or two straight.
But today, he absolutely had to go out, so he geared up thoroughly and stepped outside.
"Whoa! Jeon, out after all this time?"
"Hungry? What do you feel like eating?"
"Hey, Jeon! Know what just arrived at my place?"
As expected, the villagers passing by swarmed him with greetings.
Then, one noticed his outfit was different from usual.
"Jeon! Where to today? You've packed a lot."
"Got something to handle."
As the man said, Jeon's gear was different from normal.
He was fully equipped as if heading out on patrol, with a bag slung over his back too.
Bathed in the villagers' stares, Jeon headed to Village Chief Roberton's house in the center of the village.
Fitting the village's top authority, his house was the largest in Brea—and right now, it was packed with people.
"Oh, there you are."
Upon arrival, Roberton stepped out as if waiting and greeted him.
Since the Jefferson incident, the chief's gaze toward Jeon had definitely changed.
Not that Jeon cared.
"Has the merchant arrived?"
"Yep, he's already inside."
The reason Jeon had shown up at the chief's house loaded down like this.
Today was the day the outside merchant visited.
Stepping inside, he saw two large wagons in the courtyard, surrounded by a group of people.
"Hey! Bolton! This is the kid I told you about!"
"Ah, the new guy in the village?"
"Yes, hello. I'm Jeon."
The leader of the group around the wagons was a man named Bolton.
He traveled between big cities, stopping at every small village along the way, and for leading such a group, he looked surprisingly young.
"Nice to meet you. But... you're awfully young."
That impression seemed mutual, as Bolton greeted him with a slightly surprised tone.
"I heard you took down an orc and even a murderer. Impressive for someone so young."
"Just got lucky."
"Shall we take a look at the goods, then?"
"Sure."
Still, Bolton was polite enough.
He didn't dismiss Jeon for being young and got straight to business.
Jeon nodded and began pulling items from his bag.
"Oh... This is... Oh? This one's pretty good too...?"
As the items emerged one by one, Bolton's eyes sparkled brighter.
"Impressive. The condition is excellent."
"Is it?"
"Yes. Especially some of the gear—top quality. Mercenaries would snap them up in a heartbeat."
All of Jeon's items came from the exploration team's luggage.
So their quality was naturally high.
Spotting this, Bolton surveyed the spread and gave his assessment.
"Honestly, I'm curious how you got your hands on so much high-end gear."
"Well..."
"Haha, no worries. I won't pry. The chief gave me the gist."
The villagers believed Jeon's items were salvage from his wiped-out mercenary group.
Jeon had let them think that, too.
"So, what's the price?"
"Well, about that."
Anyway, now Jeon was curious about the valuation.
Bolton pondered briefly, nodded, and continued.
"I'd need to calculate precisely, but roughly 5 million credits."
"5—5 million credits!?"
The chief, Roberton, gaped more than Jeon, the actual owner.
'Well... can't blame him for being shocked.'
Back when he was an exploration team slave.
Garon, who loved to chat, had explained the empire's currency, credits.
It was mostly gossip he'd picked up—like how much nobles earned yearly or what the expedition leader did with a million credits—but it gave Jeon a rough sense anyway.
'1 credit's about 10 won.'
Of course, based on his own impressions from the stories, but still.
By that measure, the bag full of goods meant a one-time haul of 50 million won.
"To be honest, I can't buy all of this right now."
"Pardon?"
"I didn't expect goods this good, so I didn't budget that much."
From Bolton's perspective, he hadn't anticipated this expense, so he couldn't cover it all with his current funds.
'Pretty honest guy.'
So Jeon took a liking to this Bolton.
"How much could you buy on the spot?"
"With our budget, up to about 1 million credits."
From not dismissing him at first sight to honestly admitting he could lowball within his means.
He didn't seem like the scamming type.
"Could I get paid after you sell them at your destination?"
"Of course. But it'd take quite a while to go, sell, and return. That okay?"
"How about this?"
"Got a good idea?"
"I'll travel with you to your destination. Sell there, pay me then."
Truth be told, Jeon had planned to leave Brea with the merchant anyway.
But he hadn't intended to sell everything.
Just some here, compare prices in the city for the rest.
This guy seemed trustworthy enough for all of it.
"Wh-what!? Y-you're leaving the village now!?"
The chief beside him freaked out at the decision.
Wondering what his deal was, Jeon glanced over—only for the chief to grab his arm.
"Why leave!? Folks aren't making you work, and you lack for nothing in food or clothes!"
As the chief said, Jeon's current life in Brea resembled the one he'd dreamed of in his past life.
No need to work; food, clothing, shelter provided.
But it still fell laughably short of filling Jeon's sense of lack.
'No one bathes, no salt, no spices, barely any meat, nothing to see, nothing to learn—nothing!'
He almost launched into a rant about the village's shortages but barely held back.
Unaware of Jeon's thoughts, the chief clung desperately.
"I'm set to marry you off to Rina, Serena, and two other village girls! It's all arranged! Plus, I'll adopt you as my son and make you next chief! So stay!"
Ugh, the more he heard, the more he wanted to leave.
The chief thought he was piling on perks to keep him, but none appealed.
'Adopted son? What?'
Lately, he'd sensed more than mere fondness in the villagers' gazes—guess this was why.
Anyway.
Gently prying off the chief's grip, Jeon turned to Bolton.
"Will you accept my proposal?"
"Huh? Oh, yes. Let's do it. I was reluctant to leave these behind anyway."
Bolton, who'd been blankly watching the chief's antics, snapped to and replied.
"So, when do we leave the village?"
"We've finished the usual trades before you arrived, so we can load up and go right away."
"Perfect. That works for me."
Finally, the moment Jeon would leave Brea Village had arrived.