The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin. - Chapter 3: The Dark Green Sword.

The Dark Green Sword.

Smoke from the chimneys of various houses rose into the evening air as the smell of tomato soup, wafting from someone’s kitchen, teased their noses.

Il and Bodoin walked side by side, hastening their way home.

They were both headed to the same guardhouse. Though Il wanted to avoid any more lectures, it would be hard to come up with an excuse to separate from Bodoin, who lived in the same quarters. Searching for a safe topic that wouldn’t get Bodoin worked up again, Il thought of his beloved daughter.

“By the way, how’s Mei-chan doing?”

“If you lay a hand on Mei, I swear I’ll kill you.”

For the record, Mei was only three years old. Bodoin had reached peak levels of doting fatherhood.

Imagining the unfortunate soul who might fall in love with her someday, Il quietly wiped away a tear. Shocked that what seemed like a safe topic turned out to be a taboo one, Il quickly searched for the next conversation starter.

If this silence continued, Bodoin was bound to start lecture part two (the “back home” edition). As Il’s eyes wandered in search of a suitable topic, his gaze fell upon the sword hanging from Bodoin’s hip.

“Hey, now that I think about it, your sword is quite unusual, isn’t it?”

“Oh, this?”

Bodoin ran his hand over the sheath of the sword.

“During training, I noticed the blade looked slightly green. Is that right?”

“Yeah, this is a prototype made by a blacksmith I used to visit before you joined the guards. Apparently, they discovered a new steel forging method, so they made me a test piece.”

“A new type of steel?”

“They’ve decided to call it Dark Green Steel.”

“Wow. So, how is it? Judging by the fact you’re still using it, it can’t be bad.”

“Oh yeah. It’s twice as hard as regular steel, retains its sharpness, and rarely chips.”

“That’s amazing!”

“If we could equip every guard with one of these, we could drastically reduce casualties in wars and other situations.”

“Sounds good. Isn’t it about time to submit a weapons replenishment request?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna happen.”

“Is it that expensive?”

“Nah, there’s no price you could even put on it. The blacksmith died before passing on the secret of making that dark green steel.”

“Died? Was it an accident or something?”

“That’s the official story, but I think it was the work of the Night Dwellers, the people of the night.”

At Bodoin’s distant gaze and ominous words, a cold glint flickered in Il’s dull blue eyes. But it was gone in an instant. Il then spoke in a playful tone, his voice slightly higher than usual.

“Come on, old man. If you blame everything on the Night Dwellers, they’ll end up working themselves to death. And if assassins die from overworking, that would be a joke even they couldn’t laugh at.”

Ignoring Il’s attempt to lighten the mood, Bodoin continued in the same steady tone.

“Listen. That blacksmith died seven days after handing me this sword, in his own workshop. His body was found by his apprentice and his daughter. Whenever he worked on that dark green steel, he always locked up everything—windows, doors, you name it. Not a single gap left. But that night, he didn’t come out. No matter how much they called for him, there was no response. Worried, the apprentice and daughter kicked down the door, and there he was, lying dead on the floor.”

“Huh.”

“Huh? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Well, if he was found in a room where no one could get in, it sounds like it was either an accident or natural causes, right?”

“The thing is, he was killed by a thin needle piercing the back of his neck.”

Il gasped softly.

“When you find a body with no clear explanation, it’s almost always the work of the Night Dwellers.”

“That’s a pretty rough assumption, though. So, you’re saying we can’t make any more of these dark green steel swords?”

“That blacksmith was a meticulous guy, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he left some written notes on the process somewhere. If he passed the technique on to his apprentice or his daughter, then there’s a chance. But considering how he locked himself up so tightly and worked alone, honestly, the odds aren’t great.”

Bodoin shrugged just as a voice rang out.

“Hey! Gentlemen! Please help me!”

The cry for help reached the two of them, cutting through the conversation.