The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin. - chapter 17: Biting My Nails.

Biting My Nails.

As the hired manager wrapped up his unwanted task, he spotted Il strolling cheerfully toward Ward’s workshop on the main street.

It was somewhat unexpected that Toruk had outmaneuvered Hiluluk, but aside from that, things were mostly as he had anticipated. All that remained was to tighten the screws on Toruk and retrieve the money that had been put up as collateral on the estate.

Of course, Hiluluk wouldn’t give up on the “Dark Green Steel Manufacturing” technique easily, but as long as he paid up, he would lose any excuse to make unfounded accusations. That should buy him some time.

Lost in these thoughts as he walked down the street, a delightful aroma of freshly baked bread wafted into Il’s nostrils.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t had breakfast yet. Just as he was about to wander over in that direction, a woman’s voice shouted at him from across the street.

“Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing over there?”

It was a dancer in a provocative outfit that left her navel exposed. She clashed severely with the wholesome, refreshing morning scene, standing out like a sore thumb.

“Tch, what the hell? Is that you, Peropero?”

“Don’t call me that ridiculous name!”

“Are you trying to play on ‘nameru’ and ‘nameta’? That’s not clever at all.”

[TL Note: 舐めた (なめた, nameta): This means “to lick” or “to underestimate.”

嘗めた (なめた, nameta): This also means “to lick,” but it’s a more literary or archaic term.]

“Shut up! This is no time for jokes!”

Rimrim, nearly steaming with frustration, marched up to Il.

“Just listen for a second! I found out who took that money by putting the estate up for collateral without permission. If we squeeze him and get the money back, we should be able to get by for now!”

For a moment, Rimrim wore a bewildered expression. But then, instead of getting angry, her face shifted to one of near tears, and she cried out in a high-pitched voice.

“It’s not just that! Shia! Shia’s gone!”

“Huh? What do you mean by that? Weren’t you watching her properly?”

Il grabbed Rimrim by the collar and glared at her. However, she shrugged off his hand and, in turn, grasped his wrist, glaring back.

“She was gone when I woke up! She was supposed to be sleeping in the same bed with me!”

“What about Peter? Where’s the kid?”

“Peter? He was sleeping in his own room… I think?”

Initially, Il suspected that Shia had run away from everything, trying to escape the city. However, it was highly unlikely that Shia would leave her brother behind.

“Did anything unusual happen after I left yesterday?”

“Now that you mention it, that apprentice, what’s-his-name…”

“Toruk!”

“Yeah, he came by.”

“What for? What did he say? Did he say anything to Shia?”

As Il pressed her, Rimrim averted her gaze, looking embarrassed.

“I… I wasn’t listening.”

In an instant, Il’s expression changed dramatically.

“You idiot! You! After making such a big deal yesterday, that’s all you’ve got? Useless woman! A muscle-brained fool who can only dance! Just die already! Good-for-nothing!”

While Rimrim endured his insults, unable to retort due to the nature of her earlier bravado, she kept her head down. Just when it seemed like Il’s tirade would continue, she suddenly murmured in a low, dangerous tone.

“I’m sorry. As an apology, I’ll let you kiss me.”

Kiss? Why a kiss? It was such an irrelevant statement, leaving Il completely puzzled. Yet, for some reason, he sensed a thick undercurrent of murderous intent behind her words, causing him to shiver and take a step back.

“N-no way! What do you mean by ‘apology’? Is this some kind of punishment game? Damn it, you bitch!”

“Hey, you can’t say that!”

As Rimrim stomped her feet in frustration, Il’s mind raced.

Well, it’s fine; he could roughly guess where Shia was. Why had Toruk shown up? It must have been to drag Shia down into slavery.

According to Hiluluk, Toruk was obsessed with Shia. There was no way he would be satisfied with just the money he had acquired; he wouldn’t give up on Shia.

Shia was a kind-hearted girl. Kind-hearted, in this case, meant naive enough to be easily deceived.

So, if he incited her under the pretense of protecting her brother, it wouldn’t be difficult at all for her to willingly fall into slavery. If he wanted to, Il could probably do it himself.

However, there was no need to panic about Shia.

Even if she sold herself into slavery today, she wouldn’t be on display for sale until tomorrow at the earliest. If Shia did end up selling herself, the money would have to reach Peter. While that would mean accumulating more debt, he could tack on a little profit and buy her back first thing in the morning.

But as he considered all this, Il froze in place.

“Damn it! Peter’s in trouble!”

Suddenly shouting, he pushed through the crowd of people on the street, running without a second thought.

He had already made those arrangements. If he were in Toruk’s position, there was no way he wouldn’t be aiming for the money from Shia’s sale. If he were to buy Shia, who had been forced into servitude with a slave collar, and plan to escape this town with her, he would need all the money he could get.

“W-wait! Hold on!”

Rimrim called out in surprise and started to run after Il. Eventually, the two of them reached the Ward workshop, where the gate was wide open, and the front door hung ajar.

“Peter! Hey! Where are you?”

As soon as Il burst into the entrance, he shouted at the top of his lungs, but the house remained eerily silent, with no response echoing back.

“This is bad! This is really bad!”

He muttered to himself, biting his nails incessantly. Seeing this anxious side of Il, a boy who usually showed little motivation, surprised Rimrim. It was a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, reflecting genuine concern for someone else.