The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin. - Chapter 31: The Madness of the Girl.

The Madness of the Girl.

“So, by the way, did you really find The Method of Dark Green Steel, or was that just a bluff?”

Rimrim quickly changed the subject as Shia’s emotionless gaze fell upon him.

“Idiot, of course it’s not a bluff… Look at that detached door over there. It has a scratch on it.”

Il pointed to a door nearby, leaning against the frame. The wooden door had been forcefully broken, with the hinges cracked.

“A scratch? Oh, this one?”

Rimrim spotted a horizontal scratch about knee-height on the lower part of the door, almost as if carved with a knife.

“It was placed upside down, so I didn’t notice it before. Do you remember what Shia’s father said about Dark Green Steel?”

“He said he would teach me when Peter grew taller than me…”

Before Rimrim could continue, Shia quietly murmured, “That’s right.”

Il moved closer to the door, gesturing for Rimrim to step aside, and turned the door over, placing it back in its original position.

“This scratch marks Shia’s height. It was probably made just before his father passed away, right, Shia?”

Shia nodded slightly.

“Meaning, if we peel away the stone wall above this scratch…”

Il casually pulled a stone from the wall next to the door, and with a soft sound, it came off easily.

“Ah!?”

Rimrim’s eyes widened in surprise, but Il ignored him and pulled out a piece of paper wrapped in oilpaper from the wall, briefly inspecting both sides before tossing it to Shia.

“So… this is yours.”

It was almost too simple. The Method of Dark Green Steel had been here all along.

Shia’s meticulous father wouldn’t have failed to record it, and given that Toruk might try to take it, he certainly thought ahead.

This was the place he would have turned to, the place he’d visit once Peter grew taller than Shia. Perhaps, he even intended to surprise Shia with it.

A fleeting image of father and son laughing together while holding the paper passed through Shia’s mind. That future, however, had already disappeared like bubbles.

Shia stared at the paper with an emotionless expression.

“Well, for you, who’s not a blacksmith, this might be useless. You can keep it as a keepsake from your father, or you can sell it if you want…”

Il remarked indifferently while looking at a pile of dust on the floor. At that moment, a dry, tearing sound echoed through the room.

Il, startled, looked up. Shia had torn the paper, along with the oilpaper, into tiny pieces, scattering them across the dusty floor.

“What the hell!? What are you doing!?”

“Oh dear, it’s torn.”

“Torn? You just tore it yourself!”

Il stared at Shia in disbelief. Rimrim, standing next to him, buried his face in his hands.

He had a bad feeling about this.

“And now, master, there’s no way to get the money to buy yourself back anymore.”

“‘Master’? I only bought you because I had no choice, and it was temporary, okay!?”

Il froze in place, looking like a frog being swallowed by a snake.

Rimrim thought to herself. So, this is how it ended up.

The claim about not having the money to buy him back was a lie. Il didn’t know it, but there was money that Rimrim had taken from Toruk.

However, Rimrim couldn’t say that aloud.

Shia likely intended to depend on this scumbag entirely. Perhaps she was no longer thinking clearly.

That’s exactly why, if Rimrim made the wrong move, Shia’s madness would surely turn toward him. The saying “life comes first” applied here. Rimrim had no choice but to let this scumbag be the sacrificial lamb.

“Oh dear~ such a problem. The master should take care of his slave. Or are you going to sell her off again? You can’t, can you? You can’t do that, can you?”

Rimrim’s voice sounded like someone else’s problem, teasingly, and Il glared at her with resentment.

“You bastard, you planned this, didn’t you!?”

“What do you mean by that~?”

“Grrr…!”

Rimrim, glancing away, gritted his teeth. After glaring at her for a moment, Il suddenly slumped his shoulders.

“I can’t… I’m getting dizzy. I’ll head over to the guards’ office for now. You take care of Shia at your place today. We’ll settle this another time.”

Il briefly glanced at Shia, who was quietly smiling, before he left the workshop, looking exhausted and staggering.