The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin. - Chapter 25: The Final Kiss- Part 2

The Final Kiss- Part 2

As the sun gradually rose, the doors of the trading house creaked open.

A silver-haired boy with a terribly hunched posture appeared, opening the door only to immediately notice Toruk sitting there. His eyes widened in shock.

“Ah, are you… looking for a slave?”

“Yes, I need a female slave.”

“I-I see. W-well then, this way, please…”

The silver-haired boy, though visibly nervous, led Toruk into the trading house and guided him to a room in the back.

The room they entered was draped in green curtains that covered every wall. The air was tense, and a silence as sharp as rejection filled the space. As Toruk waited quietly, each passing second stretched into an eternity.

Eventually, the mistress of the trading house opened the door and stepped in quietly.

She wore a white robe pulled low over her face. This must be the rumored mistress, Kurikara. Only her mouth was visible, and judging by that, she didn’t seem particularly old.

“Thank you for waiting. What kind of slave are you looking for?”

“The girl sold here yesterday… a girl named Shia,” Toruk replied, leaning forward across the table.

At his words, the mistress’s lips curved slightly—a smile, or perhaps an expression of unease. With only her mouth visible, it was hard to tell.

She opened her mouth slowly to speak.

“If you’re looking for that slave…”

What followed was maddening to recall.

To put it simply, Shia was no longer there. She had already been purchased.

Impossible.

It was common knowledge that slaves weren’t put up for sale until at least the day after being sold into bondage. The process involved applying the spell to attach the collar of servitude, as well as thorough inspections to ensure the slave was free of disease or disabilities—steps essential to determine their value.

It was precisely because he understood this that Toruk had arrived here first thing in the morning, even before the trading house opened. Yet, the mistress refuted him.

“A very important client came in last night. You see, accommodating such clients is only natural for a merchant. Even after hours, we are willing to open the shop for them. As for Shia, well, they took a particular liking to her and took her home immediately.”

“…Who? Who was it that bought her?”

“Pardon?”

“Who bought Shia?! Tell me!”

As Toruk glared at her in fury, the mistress chuckled derisively.

“Please, sir. If I were to disclose such information, I wouldn’t last as a merchant. How about this instead? We have other fine slaves—would you care to take a look?”

A complex expression, somewhere between laughter and tears, surfaced on Toruk’s face.

“Damn it!”

Overcome with frustration, Toruk kicked his chair aside, stood up, and stormed out of the trading house, practically breaking the door as he left.

And now, here he was, sitting at the counter of an open tavern, drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

“Damn it! Damn it all!”

He repeated the same words over and over, guzzling down drink after drink. Every time he raised his voice, the young waitress stiffened in fear, her body trembling slightly.

It was still morning. The tavern owner, exasperated with the man who had walked in as soon as the place opened and hadn’t stopped drinking since, sighed for what felt like the hundredth time.

Just then—

“My, my, you seem to be in a bit of a mood, don’t you, mister?”

A woman’s voice came from behind him, and Toruk felt something soft press against his back.

Startled by the sudden sensation of someone leaning on him from behind, Toruk let out a surprised and slightly shaky voice.

“W-Who the hell are you?”

“Well, that’s no way to greet someone. We met the other day, didn’t we? Over at Shia’s place.”

At the mention of Shia’s name, Toruk froze instinctively. He then twisted his body to look back at the woman and studied her face carefully.

Sure enough, he vaguely remembered seeing this woman before. But he couldn’t recall exchanging any words with her.

The woman wore a dress that left very little to the imagination, exposing her midriff and more. She had struck him as vulgar, hardly someone Shia would associate with—that much he remembered.

Now, she leaned further into his back, her posture almost clingy.

“Hey, do you know where Shia went? I stopped by her place today, but no one was home.”

“…How should I know?”

She might have been fishing for information. With that thought in mind, Toruk kept his answer short and curt.

The woman, unfazed by his guarded response, leaned in closer to peer at his face. A mischievous smile played on her lips.

“Still… you’re exactly my type, mister.”

“Huh?”

The words were so unfamiliar they didn’t register at first.

Her type? Me?

Toruk had no illusions about his appearance. He was well aware that people considered him unattractive. He’d heard it enough times to know.

“Do you have a girlfriend, mister?”

“W-What? Of course not! There’s no way…”

She’s just messing with me, Toruk thought, convincing himself of that as he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.

And then—

“Well, how about me?”

Toruk couldn’t immediately process the words whispered to him, spoken as casually as if recommending another drink.

“how about me… how about me… how about, me!?”

“Pfffffttttt!”

“Kyah!”

Toruk spat out the alcohol he had in his mouth like a fountain, eliciting a short scream from the woman.

A puddle formed on the counter, prompting the tavern owner to grimace, while the young waitress hurried over with a cloth to clean it up.

“D-d-d-don’t mess with me!”

His voice cracked as he snatched the cloth from the waitress and hastily wiped the counter. Glancing back at the woman, he took a moment to observe her more carefully.

Her glossy black hair, tanned skin, and deep blue eyes contrasted starkly with her garish makeup, which undermined her otherwise striking features. She was the polar opposite of Shia. But undeniably, she was attractive.

“Am I… not good enough?”

With a coquettish tilt of her head, she lightly nibbled on her finger, gazing up at Toruk with moist eyes.

Toruk faltered. In his mind, Shia’s face flashed momentarily. But a quiet voice whispered in his heart that she was out of reach now.

“You’re not… not good enough…”

His voice trembled as he spoke, his expression dazed, as if intoxicated by a heat far beyond the alcohol.

Yes, Shia was beyond him now. He had earned enough money to survive, but the thought of living a lonely life clutching his gold and silver coins made the woman before him seem like an angel.

A woman this beautiful showing interest in him? That was surely a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“Then… how about a kiss?”

“Huh? Wh-what?! Wait, what?!”

“Come on, hurry up.”

The woman pressed herself closer, her soft chest against his back. Toruk’s mind short-circuited from the sensation. His eyes darted around, unsure of what to do, until the woman chuckled softly.

With one hand, she cupped his chin, leaned in from behind, and pressed her lips against his.

Toruk’s eyes widened in shock. The woman, unfazed by his reaction, wrapped her arms around his head, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss.

Her tongue slipped into his mouth, exploring it with an intimate boldness. The sensation was vivid, almost painfully so, as if it painted images in his mind. His thoughts, already dulled by alcohol, burned away entirely, leaving him adrift in a haze of sensation.

The lewd sound of their kiss echoed in the tavern. The waitress blushed and averted her eyes in embarrassment, while the owner frowned, seemingly debating whether to intervene.

When their lips finally parted, a thin string of saliva hung between them before breaking. The woman’s half-lidded, sultry gaze sent a strange sense of triumph surging through Toruk. He reached for her chest, only for her to swat his hand lightly.

“Now, now… let’s save that for later,” she teased, winking playfully.

Toruk grinned foolishly, letting out an awkward laugh.

Not bad at all. For a man who’d never been popular with women, this felt like something out of a dream.

The woman glanced around, grabbed a receipt, and quickly sketched a map on its back before slipping it into Toruk’s hand.

“Come here tonight,” she whispered.

Toruk nodded eagerly as she caressed his chin, leaning close to his ear.

“Until then, let’s say goodbye for now. Make sure you sober up first. The night is long, after all.”

Again, he nodded, a goofy smile plastered on his face. He stood up, deciding it was best to leave before his impulses got the better of him.

Tonight. Tonight was what mattered. He couldn’t afford to ruin things by acting desperate now.

The tavern owner let out a sigh of relief as Toruk paid his tab. The man kept glancing back at the woman as he staggered out of the tavern, walking in a drunken wobble toward the cheap inn he had been hiding in until that morning.

Toruk’s spirits were high, his steps light, and he seemed on the verge of breaking into song. His troubles from that morning were all but forgotten, replaced by the anticipation of the night ahead.