He was hungry for excitement.
He was probably born with that kind of temperament. Even as a child, he would charge at monsters alone, sustaining life-threatening injuries, yet he would laugh happily.
His somewhat absent-minded parents didn't dislike him for this; they simply made him promise not to die and let him do as he pleased.
If others had known, they would have found the child unsettling, but they would have conveniently ignored that and instead righteously criticized the parents for being heartless.
However, no one blamed them for living quietly in the forest, and he genuinely respected his parents.
He left his parents' home when he reached an age where he wouldn't be mistaken for a lost child if he walked around the city alone.
Having grown bored with the lack of excitement and no longer struggling against the monsters in the forest, he decided to leave.
His parents, again, only made him promise not to die, and sent him off with a slightly worried smile.
The fact that they, who usually wouldn't stop their child from hunting monsters even if he was half-killed, gave him various things as a farewell gift, was surely because of their love for their son.
He departed, grateful for the weight of his parents' love.
Upon arriving in a nearby country, he learned about adventurers, and without hesitation, registered as one, seeing it as a good profession that combined his hobby and practical benefits.
The child who single-handedly ventured into dangerous dungeons and hunted monsters, returning covered in wounds, became the subject of rumors for a time.
However, humans are creatures of habit, and after several repetitions, the concern and teasing stopped.
His skills, honed by fighting and surviving against superior opponents, continued to improve without stagnation, and by the time he reached his full height, ordinary monsters were no match for him. Why did he, of all people, become a thief instead of pursuing the glory of an adventurer? The only answer is that it just happened that way.
He wandered into a forest while searching for unfamiliar, powerful monsters, encountered a group of thieves, and, after being attacked, killed the man who seemed to be their leader. For some reason, the surviving thieves then hailed him as their new leader.
When he asked one of the thieves he'd known since then, he was told that he didn't seem like an ordinary person. They thought that another group of thieves had come to take over their territory. How unfortunate.
Although he could distinguish between good and evil, he was hungry for excitement, so he casually started working as a thief. Whether it was due to his talent or not, the small band of thieves grew into an organization of considerable size.
He couldn't give up the exciting days of being both the hunter and the hunted, and he thought that the strange dual life of being both an adventurer and the leader of a band of thieves wasn't so bad.
There was an opportunity to name the thief group, since it had grown so large, but he gave a casual answer, which somehow led to a strange name due to a misunderstanding.
Since it was a name he had chosen casually anyway, he didn't bother to correct it, and it became established before he knew it.
A turning point came for him one night when he thought he'd attack a carriage to pass the time.
He found only one carriage, and he thought it wouldn't be much of a haul, but his intuition told him that the well-made carriage might contain something unexpectedly valuable.
A single carriage, a man reading by the fire.
He seemed to be on guard, but the calm-looking man didn't look like an adventurer at all. He felt like he'd drawn a blank, wondering if the man didn't even have the money to hire an adventurer, but since he was already there, he confidently fired an arrow at the man's head.
The deflected arrow and the black shadow that leaped out sent shivers down my spine. The sharp eyes staring coldly at me, the certainty that I was no match for him, filled me with a strange joy.
It had been a long time since I'd encountered an opponent I absolutely couldn't defeat. That was the source of my joy.
With a pounding heart, certain my arrows would be deflected, I nocked another arrow and, with my subordinates, aimed at the black figure.
I saw a seemingly gentle man calmly hiding behind him, and, disappointed that this was a miss, I released the arrow.
And as expected, all the arrows were instantly shattered. Just as I raised my head, a smile forming on my face from the exhilaration,
It was the fourth one. Four sounds of something being deflected, and I realized I was the fourth person targeted by something.
I instinctively dodged, and if I hadn't, that something would have pierced my heart. If I had been the first target, I might not have been able to dodge.
"...Huh?"
The voice that escaped my lips was almost completely natural, and low.
I had aimed at the black figure, fired the arrow, and as expected, it was easily deflected. I didn't understand what happened afterward.
The one who emerged from behind the black man wielding the greatsword, extending his arm as if beckoning, and then attacking, was the gentle man I had dismissed as a miss earlier.
There was no agitation on his smiling face, no hostility in his gaze, and I didn't even realize I was being attacked until I saw something about to pierce my heart.
Everyone feels something when they're about to be attacked, but I had never experienced an attack that gave me no warning whatsoever.
"Hah, haha...!"
I suppressed the cry of joy rising in my throat with both hands and gave orders to my subordinates.
My heart pounded; whether it was from facing death or something else, a feeling that was neither fear nor joy surged through me. Sensing that he would undoubtedly be killed if he confronted them now, he abandoned the subordinates he had brought with him, just as he always did, and fled the scene.
A genuinely joyful smile spread across his face as he ran through the night forest.
Based on the meager information he had gathered, he learned that they were adventurers, and he turned his attention to the guild.
He chuckled, finding the fact that they were likely on a bodyguard mission—a fact he had anticipated—unfitting for the seemingly gentle man, but he also frowned at the scarcity of information.
Despite how conspicuous the two were, he could only obtain information about their activities as adventurers; their identities remained completely unknown.
He deepened his smile, thinking that since lizel looked the part and seemed to have connections to a certain noble family, he was probably from the upper class.
In any case, since he was interested, he decided to try making contact.
"Can you let me join your adventurer party?!"
Because he always preferred fighting and winning against stronger opponents, he understood the importance of using strategy, but he was fundamentally a reckless daredevil who would challenge even those far superior to him.
He knew he would definitely be suspected and rejected, but even a brief conversation would be a bonus.
The strength of Gil, which he could understand just by facing him, was such that even if he launched a surprise attack, he would be instantly cut down.
Suppressing his excitement at the thought of a fight, he faced Lizel, the party leader.
The gentle face turned towards him wore the same smile that had been directed at him, the attacker, on the night of the attack. He felt a sense of surprise, but nevertheless, he smiled back cheerfully and amiably.
"My name is Eleven, and my adventurer rank is Solo C! My strengths are my resistance to poison and my honesty! My weaknesses are that I'm not a morning person and I'm sensitive to the cold! I applied because I thought it would be really cool to defeat an underground dragon!"
"Your strengths and reason for applying contradict each other. Please try again."
Eleven's lie was immediately seen through, but he didn't let his smile falter.
He felt a slight increase in pressure from Gil's gaze behind Lizel, and for some reason, a cold, indifferent gaze from the side, but he still cheerfully said his goodbyes and turned on his heel.
Compared to the clearly powerful Gil, Lizel, whom he would undoubtedly defeat in a head-on fight, seemed to be worth forming a party with, so he nodded several times in agreement and left the guild.
At the same time, he realized something. Lizel had absolutely no interest in him.
The attack by the bandits and Eleven's request to join the party were of equal importance to Lizel.
They were both equally insignificant events, which is why he wore the same smile.
Even though the other two had shown suspicion immediately after he lied, Lizel remained completely unchanged.
"He's kind of annoying..."
He pouted, but then quickly grinned, thinking it would be fun to break that composure.
He was getting bored with banditry lately, and while thinking something that would make his subordinates cry if they heard it, he stopped by the headquarters in the capital city of Parteda, had one of his subordinates prepare a bow, and took him along.
The Forky Gang, which has multiple bases in various locations, naturally has a small base in this country, and several members were on standby now that Eleven, their leader, was there.
It seemed they were going out for drinks, so he decided to target them on their way back, and had his subordinate wait at an ideal shooting point. Eleven watched from further back.
The initial attack, meant as a greeting, failed as expected.
What was surprising was that it wasn't Gil who killed the attackers, but a guild employee, and that Gil seemed to be aware of Eleven's presence. Though,he probably didn't know it was Eleven.
Throughout the time his subordinates were being killed, a menacing aura was directed at Eleven.
Thinking, "As expected of a master swordsman," he moved lightly across the rooftops and returned to his base that day.
"Eleven! Please let me join your party!"
The real test was the next day.
If his contact and the bandit attack coincided, anyone would suspect him.
However, Lizel's reaction to Eleven's smiling, narrowed eyes was unexpectedly the same as the day before.
He shouldn't be so foolish as to not suspect Eleven, yet his unchanging, gentle smile wasn't the expression one would give to a suspicious person who appeared immediately after an attempt on their life.
"Solo C-rank! My strengths are my good voice and good looks! My weaknesses are that I look scrawny and I stand out! I volunteered because I thought that since you both have good looks, forming a party would give me an unparalleled sense of superiority!"
"You've stopped lying, but your adventurer appeal failed. Try again."
Last time, he was rejected because his lies were exposed, so this time he changed his approach, wondering what would happen if he didn't lie.
The completely innocuous content, perhaps because it was so unremarkable regarding his adventurer skills, resulted in another rejection.
He inwardly grumbled, "Even if I make a proper appeal, they'll still reject me," but he still left the guild with a smile.
Afterwards, he observed the two who came out of the guild for a while, realizing that yesterday's greeting had been completely meaningless. I wondered if his unchanging smile today was meant to hide his distrust, but before that, it seemed he wasn't worried about the attack at all.
Normally, a person would be on guard every time they walked outside, but he wasn't, and his gait was no different from before the attack.
"Defeating a formidable opponent is always exhilarating," Eleven said, humming a tune in what he considered a pleasant voice, and walked away with a light step.
Incidentally, he tried attacking him with a bow again that day, but he was caught by Gil. As expected.
Eleven suddenly wondered if that composure was because Single-Stroke was by his side.
Even though he was the leader of a bandit group, he didn't have much sense of camaraderie, so he couldn't easily come up with that idea, but it was true that with Gil by his side, any attack would be easily thwarted.
It was worth trying, but it was unlikely that the two would separate in this situation.
The inn they were staying at was coincidentally designed in a way that made it impossible to target them with a bow. That's probably why they were staying there.
Then, a perfect opportunity presented itself to him.
The two who were carrying out a request—a request so strange that he almost burst out laughing—had separated.
According to his subordinate's report, they had been in contact with a nobleman the previous day, but they couldn't find out the details. As punishment, he brought that subordinate with him this time.
The subordinate was terrified because all the subordinates who had become attackers before had lost their lives, but he knew that running away would be even more terrifying, so it wouldn't be a problem.
Eleven wasn't resting on his laurels; he was properly exercising control through fear, as befitting a bandit leader.
Lizel, separated from Gil, was led backstage and then appeared on stage, shrouded in black.
The black cloak completely covered Lizel, to the point that it would have been impossible to tell who he was without constant surveillance. "Only adventurers would laugh at the music being played," he said.
He listened intently to the music, wondering when would be the best time to release the arrow.
Thinking it a shame to interrupt the beautiful melody, he curled his lips into a smile and signaled to his subordinate.
Just as the fight scene was ending, at a truly dramatic moment, he instructed his subordinate to aim for a non-lethal spot. He didn't want to kill him.
He wondered if he would see a pained expression on his face; surely, after being wounded, he wouldn't be able to act as if nothing had happened.
"Huh?"
As if to betray his expectations, darkness enveloped the stage.
The pitch-black darkness completely covered both the stage and the audience, but the audience's voices, judging it to be part of the performance, sounded cheerful.
Immediately afterward, unlike Eleven, who had concealed himself by lying flat on the roof, a knife was plunged into the head of his subordinate, who had been slightly raising his upper body while holding his bow.
He kicked the subordinate's swaying body aside, and a shiver ran down his spine at the murderous intent that seemed to be directed at him, even though he shouldn't have been visible.
It was a thrill of exhilaration in response to the strong killing intent, but the momentary killing intent seemed to be just a feint and quickly disappeared.
The darkness seemed to have cleared during the brief exchange.
The fierce battle music had subsided, and now he saw Lizel standing quietly.
His appearance was certainly not that of someone who had been hit by an arrow, and upon closer inspection, he felt that something resembling a broken arrow was lying in front of him, and something identical to the knife that had pierced his subordinate's head was stuck in a pillar behind him.
Although he couldn't see his expression, there was no sign of agitation, and Eleven shrugged, thinking this was another failure, and left the scene.
The body was left behind, but the military police would clean it up, so there was no problem.
Area-of-effect dark magic, the target seems quite skilled. The method used to attack the carriage that night was probably magic, and judging by his physique, he's likely a mage.
A skilled mage with connections to the nobility. A valuable asset; if we could really form a party, that would be great.
With these thoughts in mind, I waited for Lizel to visit the guild and approached him again today.
Incidentally, I attacked him several times before he visited the guild, but all of them failed.
"I want to join your party!"
"Alright, the usual."
"Yes! Eleven, Solo C rank! My strengths are my incredibly amazing dual-sword skills and my excellent night vision! My weaknesses are my lack of manners and my tendency to let my guard down! I was so moved by Lizel's performance yesterday! I wanted to take on fun quests like that with someone like him, so I volunteered!"
"Hmm..."
Unlike usual, Eleven smiled brightly at not being immediately rejected.
It was a good appeal for an adventurer; now it was time to see how he would reject this suspicious person.
The moment he rejected him, it would become clear that Lizel harbored some kind of distrust towards Eleven. While he maintained a calm demeanor on the surface, this would prove that Eleven had caused some kind of change in his emotions.
My heart pounded with anticipation, wondering if his seemingly composed facade would crumble.
If he accepted me so easily, it would mean he intended to keep the suspicious person close to monitor him.
If he showed such confidence in dealing with a suspicious person, what kind of scheme should I try?
Should I try something against someone who pretends to be his ally and is close to him? I wondered, observing Lizel.
A faint smile appeared on his face, and I tilted my head slightly in confusion. His smile was different from usual. The emotion he felt upon seeing it, which he had longed for, wasn't joy.
The sudden feeling of goosebumps was due to an emotion he had never felt before, but he didn't understand it.
"You let your guard down, didn't you?"
Lizel, who smiled leisurely, noticed Eleven's reaction and slowly narrowed his eyes.
The time rewinds to that morning.
Several days had passed since they completed the theater troupe's request, and neither Lizel nor Gil had been working as adventurers.
They weren't the type to frequent the guild every day, and besides, Lizel's desire to read had recently intensified.
While eating breakfast, they were discussing whether they should go to the guild today.
"Speaking of which, will arrows be flying at us again today?"
"Calling arrows that are coming to pierce your brain 'flying' is too cute, isn't it?"
"It's the same if they don't hit."
Lizel laughed and took a bite of pasta, while Gil, who had already finished eating, leaned on his elbow and sighed in exasperation.
Was this the behavior of someone whose life was threatened at least once a day?
A normal person would be afraid to go outside, become distrustful of people, or at worst, go insane.
Gil had been letting it go because Lizel didn't seem to care, but he was getting tired of it.
He wasn't particularly quick-tempered despite his appearance, but he wasn't exactly patient either.
He always killed the attackers to vent his frustration, but he felt more like, "Who do you think you're messing with?" so it didn't really relieve his stress that much.
"Even if they're disposable, they sure do keep popping up."
"If they're just disposable, we can gather as many as we want."
"That kid who's been demanding to join the party lately, he's part of a bandit gang, right? Wouldn't catching him and making him spill the beans solve everything? I won't stop you if you still want to have some fun, though."
Lizel blinked.
This was the first time Gil had offered a solution. Until now, he had simply defended against attacks, seemingly indifferent to the situation.
But he nodded, realizing he had a point.
Lately, he'd been staying close to him whenever they went out, subtly making sure he wasn't completely alone. Lizel was free to do as he pleased, but constantly being together was stifling, and it probably prevented Gil from acting as he wanted.
He had once told him he didn't need to be so considerate, but he had dismissed it, so he had forgotten about it.
It's easy to overlook things when you're always surrounded by people and used to having others do things for you, Lizel reflected, feeling a pang of self-reproach. Gil looked at him suspiciously.
"...I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm acting freely enough right now, so you don't need to worry about anything."
"Even deflecting arrows for me?"
"Yeah."
He was acting freely, while also keeping an eye on Lizel.
If Lizel had said, "Let me act alone," instead of "You don't need to be so considerate," Gil would have probably clicked his tongue and refused, even if it led to an argument.
But since it was Lizel, he would have sensed the rejection in his tone and smiled, saying, "As you wish."
That's why Lizel smiled gently at Gil's words and thanked him for his actions, which Gil himself described as "acting freely."
"But, well, it seems like he'll make a proper impression today, and it would be troublesome if he got impatient and made a move on Judge or something."
"You look so innocent, don't you? You certainly don't look like the kind of person who would fan the flames."
"What do you mean 'looks like'? If he makes a move on Judge or Stud, I'd definitely get angry."
"Hmm, I'd like to see that."
Gil twisted his lips into a malicious smile, and Lizel gave a wry smile, thinking it was inappropriate.
However, Gil was certain. Even if someone other than the two people Lizel mentioned were harmed, Lizel's emotions wouldn't be stirred.
Even if someone outside his inner circle was hurt or asked for help, he wouldn't act if there was no benefit to him. He might act if there was a benefit, though.
The fact that Lizel didn't mention anyone other than those two names meant just that. LIzel rarely lies to Gil; his way of speaking might be a little roundabout at times, but Gil understands him, so it's not a problem.
Lizel finally finished his breakfast and let out a sigh.
The breakfast, prepared out of kindness by the innkeeper because he was an adventurer, was a little too much for Lizel.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Lizel spoke.
"Speaking of which, he's not a member of a bandit group or anything."
"Huh?"
"He's the boss."
Eleven looked around the room that had been prepared for him.
The strange feeling he had just experienced had strangely subsided, and he was now able to behave as usual.
The guild's special reception room, which he would probably never have had the opportunity to enter in his life, was distinctly different from the floor where adventurers came and went. A magnificent sofa and a large table at knee height were placed on the marble floor. The room prepared for them was far too extravagant for just a simple request from Lizel to "have a talk," making Eleven briefly wonder if he was a VIP of the guild, but he quickly dismissed the thought.
It was Studd who had immediately prepared this room in response to Lizel's calm voice, and even Lizel himself gave a wry smile, confirming if it was really alright to use it.
"So, what's the talk about?"
"Since there's a place to sit, let's sit and talk."
Eleven happily sat down on the sofa at Lizel's smiling suggestion.
Despite sitting down with a forceful "thump," the sofa, which looked expensive, cushioned him softly. Lizel sat down leisurely opposite him, and Gil sat next to him.
Studd didn't leave the room, but instead walked towards Lizel's back, his footsteps echoing on the floor, and stopped there.
Lizel gave a wry smile at Studd standing there like a servant, but didn't tell him to leave.
Eleven, still smiling with narrowed eyes, was as amiable as ever, and Lizel tilted his head slightly, wondering what to do.
"I've been given quite a few hints before, but today I received the decisive clue, so I thought it wouldn't be right to ignore it."
"Huh?"
"So, what are your thoughts on facing me?"
Eleven pulled up the corners of his lips in a grin at Lizel's smile.
"So, I'm completely exposed? Really? No need for any of that boring bluffing stuff, right?"
"There's no need to bluff."
"Haha!"
Eleven spread his arms wide and laughed exaggeratedly.
His amiable face transformed into a peculiar grin, and the way he completely changed the atmosphere was truly befitting of a bandit leader.
He rested his elbows on his spread legs, propped his chin on his hands, and looked up at Lizel in front of him. When asked about my feelings after confronting him, I couldn't feel even a trace of the joy I had imagined.
Was it because I hadn't confronted him on my own terms, or was it because, even at this point, Eleven's existence was insignificant to Lizel?
The gesture of him licking his lips suited him well.
"How did you find out?"
"Actually, it was so obvious I thought you were doing it on purpose, but you really let your guard down, didn't you?"
"Huh?"
"Look, your reason for applying."
Eleven recalled the reason he had given for applying earlier.
"I was so moved by Lizel's performance yesterday! Someone like this..." Remembering that much, Eleven chuckled, realizing his mistake.
"The only people who know that I'm that performer are the adventurers who received the request and the theater troupe members... and,"
"The attackers, you mean? But I might have really been listening as a customer, you know? Like, I figured it out because of fan psychology, wanting to join your party."
"With how conspicuous you are, it would be impossible not to spot you from the vantage point of the stage."
He had been waiting to perform, and during the performance, he needed to look around to gauge the audience's reaction.
Lizel wasn't the kind of person who wouldn't recognize a familiar face in the crowd, and it was even more unlikely with someone as flamboyant as Eleven.
Eleven nodded exaggeratedly, then glanced from Lizel to Gil.
"But, inviting me in when you just found out I'm part of a bandit group, even with a bodyguard, isn't that a bit too confident?"
"It's not a bodyguard, it's a party... Well, I realized you were the leader of the bandit group when we first met at the guild, so it's not like I just found out."
"You really knew I was the leader... and from the very beginning?"
In other words, he had known all along and had been playing along.
Certainly...
I thought he would have figured out that I was part of a bandit group, but I didn't expect him to also know that I was the leader.
Lizel was calmly smiling in front of the very person who had ordered someone to try and kill him with arrows.
"You really didn't seem interested," Eleven pouted, his lips pursed. That deliberately childish gesture seemed to irritate Studd, and Lizel chuckled, feeling a faint chill from behind him.
"By the way, why don't you ask me how I figured it out?"
"At that timing, it was practically like you were saying you were a bandit, and besides, you're the kind of person who would lie to try and gauge our reaction."
"Normally, people wouldn't notice, though. I'm pretty good at lying."
There was no falsehood in Eleven's words as he chuckled.
In reality, the adventurers who were there all suspected that there was something fishy about the sudden request to join the party, but none of them noticed the lie.
It was natural to suspect something was up, considering he tried to join the party on their first meeting, and no one could have known whether his words were true or false.
"He picked the wrong opponent," Gil muttered to himself, resting his elbow on the sofa.
"So, how did you know I was the bandit leader?"
"With that much insistence, I'd notice. You're the one who gave yourself the name 'Forked Tongue,' right? There's only one snake beastman registered in the guild's history, and you're the only one in this country."
"Hah, haha! Amazing! To be able to think that far, aren't you a little too suspicious of the world!?"
Eleven's usually pale skin flushed slightly as he let out a cry of delight.
Before his laughter subsided, he opened his mouth wide, revealing his tongue.
The tip of his tongue, slightly thinner and narrower than Lizel's, was split into two by a small incision. These are the characteristics of a snake beastman.
Eleven casually propped his feet up on the expensive sofa and crossed his legs.
Naturally, Studd didn't look pleased, but he seemed to have decided not to say anything for now.
"So, what are you going to do? Are you going to turn me in somewhere?"
"If I said I was going to turn you in, would you run away?"
"I wouldn't run away, or rather, I don't think I could run away against those guys."
Eleven always seeks out exciting battles, but he also has a firm grasp of his own abilities.
He doesn't want to fight and die; if he thinks it's impossible, he'll give up easily.
For him, Gil is an opponent he can't possibly defeat, and judging from the movements Studd showed on the night of the attack, he would undoubtedly have a hard time against him.
He had no intention of doing something reckless like running away from those two.
Eleven sent a playful glance at Lizel, wondering what he would do, and Lizel pondered for a moment.
"Honestly, that kind of thing doesn't matter."
"Huh?"
"The fact that you're a thief, a leader, a liar, and ill-mannered—I only mentioned those things because I thought it would make the conversation easier, but they're not particularly important."
Lizel's smile, which even seemed to contain a hint of compassion, was dismissive, and the faint smile that had always been on Eleven's face disappeared.
"However, you're starting to cause trouble for those around me, aren't you? I just wanted to tell you to stop that."
The calm smile, which had been present throughout, remained unchanged.
Even though they were facing each other and talking, Lizel's interest wasn't focused on him, and even this conversation wasn't for Eleven's sake.
At first, he wanted to break Lizel's composed expression, then he became irritated that he couldn't break it no matter how hard he tried, and now, even after revealing everything about himself, the man's attention wasn't directed towards him. For Eleven, who lacked the experience, it was too difficult to accept defeat—to acknowledge that there were no more options, and to feel no trace of the exhilaration that usually accompanied facing a formidable opponent.
A sharp, whistling sound of wind being cut and a cracking sound of something breaking reached Lizel's ears. At the same time, he felt something warm covering one of his cheeks.
When he reached out to touch the warm sensation, he found it was someone's palm. As he tried to turn towards it, the tip of a blade appeared before his eyes.
The blade trembled, poised to slash Lizel, but the wrist holding the dagger was being held down with crushing force. Gil's hand, which was blocking his view, didn't tremble at all.
As he slowly watched the blade move away, he turned around and saw that it was Studd who had been protecting him, his hand on his cheek.
He thanked him and stroked his hand, and his palm slowly moved away from his cheek.
"Ugh, damn it... My wrist is probably broken! It hurts! Let go!"
"Do you think I'd let go of someone who won't release their grip even with a broken wrist?"
The still-trembling blade was proof that Eleven was resisting Gil with all his might.
Since Gil wasn't letting go, that force was likely directed straight at Lizel.
Come to think of it, he was supposed to be a dual-wielder, but when he looked at his other hand, it seemed he had been targeted the moment he landed on the table. His other hand was firmly pinned to Gil's leg, who was still sitting down.
"The fact that Gil allowed him to get within a few centimeters is quite something, isn't it? It seems the title of 'bandit leader' isn't just for show. I wonder who's faster, Gil or Studd?"
"I've gotten a bit rusty, but I don't intend to lose in terms of speed."
"That's amazing. Since I can't see them, all I know is that they're fast, so it's hard to compare them."
"You should learn to see them."
This was a scene he had witnessed many times during the attacks.
Even with his life threatened, he spoke and smiled leisurely, as if nothing was wrong.
Despite having seen it many times, this time, he hated it so much he wanted to kill him.
The palm of his hand, crushed under Gil's foot, was already broken, and the dagger had fallen under the table. He tried to release the dagger in his other hand, gripping it tightly despite the excruciating pain in his wrist, but Gil's arm holding him down didn't budge.
Eleven sighed, giving up, and laughed softly.
"I've decided. I'll kill everyone. I'll kill everyone you're close to... Even if I get caught here, my subordinates who've been investigating you will go berserk and destroy everything around you! Like that tool shop owner! Hahahaha!"
In front of Lizel, who was sitting down, Eleven laughed like a grotesque condemned man crucified with both hands.
He shook his red hair, his red eyes filled with pleasure, and the scales on his cheeks contorted as he laughed loudly.
"You are childish."
His laughter suddenly stopped, as if choked off.
It wasn't just his laughter that stopped. The dagger he was aiming at Lizel, his wide-open eyes that had forgotten to blink, and his body, which had been playfully relaxed, suddenly tensed up, stopping all movement. He didn't move a single millimeter, as if even the slightest movement would kill him. It wasn't just Eleven; Gil, who had been looking at him with a look of disgust, and Studd, who was standing behind him with his hand on the sofa, ready to unleash magic at a moment's notice, everyone in the room except for Lizel had frozen.
"You, who can transform a little fear into joy, must have lived your life without ever feeling fear, haven't you?"
"...!"
"Hey, what happened to your energetic replies from earlier?"
Lizel's fingertips traced Eleven's cheek.
From his cool forehead, they caressed his temples, traced the scales on his cheek, and stopped at his chin.
Eleven's expression, as he knelt on the table, was visible even to Lizel, who remained seated, but he slowly pushed Eleven's chin up.
The face that was now clearly revealed showed no trace of a smile, and was even paler, completely drained of blood.
"Fear is self-control. When people commit evil acts, what holds them back? It's fear. When you're little, you don't understand the difference between good and evil, do you? But the fear of being scolded teaches you self-control."
Eleven suddenly understood.
Gil wasn't in a party with Lizel because of his superior intelligence or magic, Studd wasn't attached to him simply because he was spoiled, and Judge didn't admire him just because he was treated kindly.
He didn't know what it was, but he understood. It was hammered into his brain. Deeper than thought, more intense than emotion, it was understood by instinct.
At the same time, he remembered.
The unfamiliar feeling he had felt towards Lizel, who had a different smile than usual, before being led into this room.
Eleven finally realized that the name of that emotion was fear.
He trembled, his body shaking with a tremor that rose from deep within him.
"If you do anything unnecessary, I will be angry with you."
But why? Despite feeling such intense fear towards Lizel, Eleven's only hope, the one he desperately clung to, was also Lizel.
What supported Eleven now was neither his knees on the desk, nor his arms held down by Gil, but only Lizel's fingertips gently resting on his chin, without applying much force.
He swallowed hard, his throat trembling, and nodded slightly in a prayer-like gesture, and then those fingertips were withdrawn.
His body collapsed, only his right arm, held by Gil, remaining upright. But when Gil released his hand, which had somehow dropped the dagger, that right arm also fell limply onto the desk.
At the same time, feeling the return of normal air, Gil and Studd unconsciously exhaled the breath they had been holding.
A small sob escaped from Eleven, who was trembling and clinging to the large desk.
His shoulders twitched convulsively, a painful sight, and Lizel could tell at a glance that he wasn't used to crying.
Shaking his head at Studd, who was asking with his eyes if they should apprehend him, Lizel slid from the sofa he was sitting on and knelt on the floor.
"...Hic, uh...!"
"Did I scare you that much?"
"No...!"
Seeing Eleven shaking his broken wrist and holding his shoulder with his right hand while shaking his head in denial, even Lizel began to worry that he had gone too far.
Gil thought it was understandable, and Studd even felt a sense of empathy.
He had been exposed to that atmosphere created by Lizel, receiving something that was probably a terrifying experience that he hadn't intentionally directed at them. It was likely the first time he had ever experienced such fear; they could only sympathize.
Thinking about what it would be like if it were directed at them, and considering that the damage would be even greater because of their close relationship, they resolved to never anger him. Lizel slowly combed through the scattered red hair on the desk, and Eleven's trembling hand rested on his.
Eleven's left hand, completely shattered by Gil, was swollen and feverish, but he let Lizel do as he pleased.
With a slight, clinging pressure, Lizel gently stroked the only finger that seemed unharmed.
He thought he heard a slight increase in Eleven's sobs, but he ignored it and gently stroked the head pressed against the desk with his free hand.
"It seems I won't be able to move for a while."
"I don't have any plans to use this room today. I'll be going back to work, so please let me know when you're leaving."
"You're weak when someone cries, aren't you?"
Lizel gave a wry smile at Gil's added comment, "Even though you're the one who made him cry," and gently stroked Eleven's trembling shoulder.