The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin. - Chapter 16: The Hired Manager's Melancholy.

The Hired Manager’s Melancholy.

The stray cats are making quite a racket. But it’s not the long, hoarse cries typical of mating season, akin to a baby’s wail. Instead, it’s a series of aggressive, short yowls.

Adding to this cacophony is the flapping of wings; it’s easy to imagine they’re squabbling with crows over garbage.

In the morning entertainment district, the streets are nearly deserted. It’s not uncommon to witness the animals that lurk in the city, strutting around with a sense of entitlement, fiercely contesting their territories.

“What the hell? Give me a break…”

The hired owner of the brothel pleads, directing his steps toward the back entrance.

Just as he thought he could finally head home to sleep after counting last night’s earnings, the alley suddenly erupted in noise.

A moment ago, some of the owner’s lackeys descended from the second floor. With the owner away for the night, most of the thugs yawned and returned to their respective dens, leaving only a few guards behind.

Yet even if the ruckus is caused by stray cats, it’s the hired owner who will bear the brunt of the consequences if the owner is disturbed from his slumber.

If the owner is in a foul mood, it wouldn’t be strange for him to lose an ear or two. He’s heard stories about previous hired owners who faced such fates.

Sighing, the hired owner opens the back door and steps into the alley. As expected, a horde of crows is fighting over a corpse while the stray cats bounce around like roasted beans.

“Honestly, can’t they at least clean up the dead bodies?”

Indeed, while they refer to it as garbage, what the crows are feasting on is a human corpse.

Not long ago, a foolish guard was seen being led out toward the back door with a knife held to him by one of the owner’s lackeys. He was a young guard, still with a hint of innocence in his face. It’s rare to see a guard in uniform in this street, which operates beyond the law, but the sight of someone being threatened with a knife and dragged into the alley is far from uncommon.

After the deed is done, the lackeys usually drag the body directly through the alley to a cemetery on the outskirts of town. There, if they slip the old gravekeeper a small amount of money, he’ll dispose of the body without a word.

However, it seems today’s crew has even neglected that. After all, it’s just the lackeys doing their work.

“Ah, they’ve really made a mess of it.”

Though the hired owner himself isn’t a yakuza, working in a place like this inevitably means he’s become accustomed to the sight of corpses.

 “Get out of the way! Shoo!”

He brandishes a broom to chase off the crows and then looks down at the corpse lying face down, freezing in place.

“No way…”

The body, lying face down, has a stab wound to the heart from behind. It was clearly a fatal blow.

Well… that’s not the real issue. The problem is that this corpse doesn’t belong to the guard who was taken away earlier; it’s the body of the lackey who had been holding the knife to the guard.

He hurriedly glances around. One of the stray cats meets his gaze and meows. No one else is around.

Most likely, the guard’s companions had been lurking in the alley just moments before. And it seems this lackey met his end at their hands.

“…This is going to be a hassle.”

He murmurs with a sigh, pondering what to do next. Should he inform the owner, disrupting his sleep and inviting his wrath? Or should he wait for the owner to wake up and then report it, risking angering him for being late?

Either way, inciting the owner’s anger doesn’t seem worth it.

After a long moment of indecision, he grabs the man’s feet and starts dragging the body through the alley. He’s decided to take it to the cemetery to dispose of it and then pretend nothing happened.

With one or two lackeys missing, the owner likely won’t care at all. It’s not worth incurring the owner’s ire over something that doesn’t concern him. That kind of troublesome role isn’t part of his paycheck.

When the hired manager arrived at the cemetery on the outskirts of town, he found an old man sitting near the entrance.

The old man had a sunburned, wrinkled face, with only one tooth remaining on the top and one on the bottom—a scruffy figure indeed.

“Old man, I need a favor,” he said, tossing a few copper coins his way. The old man grinned in response.

“Oh, just in time! I just had an empty grave dug this morning.”

Although he felt a sense of unease at the phrasing of “emptied,” he tossed the corpse into the grave. As he dragged the heavy burden away, he rotated his stiff shoulders and quickly left the cemetery behind.