Anagin Chronicles

Chapter 132. Long-Distance Conversation (2)

[Witch of Dust: A lie.]

“Well, would you look at that, she didn’t fall for it.”

“Of course she wouldn’t.”

Sphinx shot a look of pathetic disbelief toward Anagin, who was consistently spouting nonsense.

What had happened to Neiron was something anyone could find out with a little investigation, yet he was telling such an obvious lie… not always, but sometimes he really seemed to have no shame.

The three members of the New Argonaut Expedition Team watched Sphinx and Anagin, trying to figure out what was going on. The village bandits also looked at Anagin, wondering what was happening.

Regardless, Anagin focused on the matter in front of him.

Why was Magno, who hadn’t said a word until now, contacting them at this exact moment… the timing was far too coincidental.

“What should we send back?”

“Tell them I’m Miscellaneous Doll Neiron.”

“Seriously?”

Sphinx asked back, wondering if he was in his right mind.

The first time, an unfunny joke could be overlooked, but making the same unfunny joke a second time was just rude.

Moreover, repeating an obvious lie was practically the same as asking for a fight.

Of course, Anagin knew that as well.

But so what? He had no intention of getting along with Magno anyway.

There was no way this perfectly timed contact was a coincidence.

So, regardless of whether the relationship fell apart or not, Anagin decided to go all out.

Usually, when you push like this, the other party’s personality reveals itself. Even learning that would be a gain.

[Witch of Dust: Then I’ll assume you are the Practitioner Killer, so listen accordingly.]

Unfortunately, the one called the Witch of Dust didn’t seem to be the type to reveal emotions over something like this.

Most mages Anagin had met had emotional tendencies, so he had expected this to work. It was a bit disappointing.

Anagin had Sphinx write and send a reply.

[Hidden Mastermind: Fine, what’s your business?]

‘Hidden Mastermind? Is this bastard Neiron shameless or what?’

Looking at Neiron’s user name, Anagin seriously considered whether he should change the name.  Hidden Mastermind, it was a name so cringeworthy he felt like he might die of embarrassment.

[Witch of Dust: I hear you’re transporting the Coins of Greed. Is that correct?]

[Hidden Mastermind: No.]

Sphinx, writing exactly what Anagin told her, looked at him as if to say, ‘What kind of lunatic is this?’

He always claimed he never lied whenever he got the chance, yet now he was doing nothing but lying, without even a hint of hesitation.

He was at a level that could put a professional con artist to shame.

[Witch of Dust: I see, so you’re not. But few will believe that. Truth and what people believe are different.]

But the other side was no pushover either.

Regardless of whether Anagin lied or not, she calmly continued with what she had to say.

As a result, despite it being a situation where a normal conversation shouldn’t have been possible, the conversation continued.

[Witch of Dust: More importantly, if you’re accompanied by the New Argonaut Expedition Team, people will have no choice but to believe you have the Coins of Greed.]

[Hidden Mastermind: These ones are the subordinates of this Miscellaneous Doll Neiron: Redhead Tratra, Hammer Tuitui, and Big-Eyes.]

Sphinx, already half given up, wrote down Anagin’s nonsense with a soulless expression.

Instead, the three members of the New Argonaut Expedition Team, who were watching from the side, protested—rather emotionally.

“What the hell is Tratra?”

“Hammer Tuitui?”

“And I’m just Big-Eyes?!”

As proud members of the New Argonaut Expedition Team, they were filled with indignation at Anagin’s absurd nicknames.

However, Anagin calmed them down, saying he had a plan.

[Witch of Dust: Whatever your identities are, what matters is who people think you are, so let’s not dwell on trivialities.]

“Wow, she’s tough.”

Just as Anagin admired how unshaken the Witch of Dust was, she brought up the main point.

[There are many who are targeting you right now. You know that, right?]

[Get to the point.]

[I want the Coins of Greed.]

An expected, obvious answer.

“Pinku-Pinku. Write ‘hell no—’”

[But just one coin will be enough.]

As Anagin was telling Sphinx what to write, an unexpected response came.

Out of dozens of Coins of Greed, she said only a single coin was enough.

He had expected half, or at least some fraction, but exactly one coin was an unexpected number, leaving him slightly taken aback.

Was there a specific coin she wanted?

When Anagin asked about it, another unexpected answer followed.

[I don’t want anything in particular. Just one Coin of Greed is enough. Give me any one you like.]

They could give just any coin. The terms were so favorable that it raised suspicion.

[Why do you only need one?]

[There’s no reason for me to tell you that. But I can tell you something else instead.]

[What is it?]

[Among those targeting the Coins of Greed, there are some with considerable power. I can tell you their plans and locations.]

“…!”

Not only Anagin, who was leading the conversation, but also everyone watching nearby was surprised. The offer was far better than expected.

If what she said was true, it meant they could avoid or prepare for numerous dangers ahead.

As if to prove it, everyone began exchanging opinions.

“Is that for real?”

“Who knows, they say half the deals on Freedom’s Thread are scams.”

“Which means the other half are real.”

“More importantly, this deal favors us. Usually, in deals like this, the one providing information receives payment first. Even if it’s a scam, we only lose one out of dozens of coins.”

Interestingly, the companions who had agreed to deliver the Coins of Greed to the Delphi Temple viewed the deal positively.

As they said, it was overwhelmingly in their favor.

If the other party was telling the truth, they would gain valuable information. Even if it was a scam, they would only lose a single coin out of dozens.

Of course, considering the task they had taken on, it was questionable whether this was the right attitude, but the thought that it was ‘just’ one coin out of dozens diluted that concern.

Anagin agreed with that to some extent as well.

One coin out of dozens—it was practically like dropping one on the road.

Still, one thing bothered him.

“Pinku-Pinku.”

“Yes, Brother. What should I write?”

A brief silence fell as everyone turned to look at Anagin.

They were waiting to hear his answer.

After a moment, Anagin spoke.

“Write ‘hell no.’”

* * *

Anagin had two reasons for politely declining.

Like it or not, work was work. And Anagin believed that work had to be done properly.

As natural as feeding yourself and cleaning up after yourself.

The second reason was simply that he didn’t want to do what the other party wanted.

No matter how profitable it might be, he had no desire to comply with a request like that.

Fortunately, while the others still looked at Anagin like he was insane, none of them argued with him.

Even if he seemed a bit contrary at times, his decision was ultimately the right one.

Of course, the one on the other side of the Freedom’s Thread warned Anagin.

[That’s a shame. Are you really sure? Some pretty troublesome people will be after you, and a few of them are quite dangerous.]

To be honest, it sounded less like a warning and more like a curse or a threat, but Anagin’s decision wouldn’t change either way, so it didn’t matter.

Kindness or threats from someone he didn’t even know the face of held no value to Anagin.

Anagin remained silent. He had nothing to say anyway, and he had no desire to waste time on pointless chatter.

‘If I ignore it, they’ll cut the connection on their own.’

As expected, he wasn’t wrong. However, just before leaving, the Witch of Dust left one last remark.

[Personally, I like your choice. I’ll be rooting for you. As for that, you can keep using your Neiron username. I don’t plan on going around spreading your identity.]

Despite being rejected, the Witch of Dust left as if she felt nothing in particular.

Rather, she even said she’d keep Anagin’s Neiron username (Hidden Mastermind) a secret without being asked.

It could be a ploy before pulling a scam, but he liked the attitude itself.

“Still, it’s a bit of a shame.”

Once the one-on-one conversation with the Witch of Dust ended, Lynceus voiced his regret.

It was a somewhat uncomfortable deal, but objectively speaking, it wasn’t a bad offer.

For now, they had easily subdued the village bandits, so it didn’t seem like a big deal. But if waves of looters kept attacking without rest, things might turn out differently. There was no guarantee that none of them would be particularly troublesome.

If handing over a coin felt wrong, there was also the method of taking the information and then just playing dumb. There was no problem with breaking a promise to a low-rank mage, after all.

Still, Lynceus only expressed regret and didn’t criticize Anagin. His decision itself was the right one.

In that sense, it was quite strange.

He seemed endlessly contrarian, yet at crucial moments, he made the right call.

And that wasn’t all.

He was a country bumpkin, yet confident anywhere; he seemed rough and cold, yet oddly warm at times. He seemed simple, yet had a depth to his thinking.

A contradictory guy in many ways.

“Still, a shame is a shame.”

“I agree.”

Sphinx chimed in.

Regardless of the difference in strength, it was true that the attacking side held the initiative over the defending side.

If, as the witch said, many were after the Coins of Greed, they might soon have a hard time. Depending on the situation, they might not even be able to rest in a village.

Naturally, they might not be able to eat properly, nor get a good night’s sleep.

Having lived comfortably in the Chiron Tower and the Kingdom of Arcadia recently, Sphinx was a bit worried about that hardship.

”I don’t plan on doing that, though?”

While everyone was lamenting Anagin’s decision, he reacted as if they were talking nonsense.

As if to say he’d eat well and sleep just fine.

“You can’t say that, Brother. You chose the hard path yourself.”

“How foolish, Pinku-Pinku. One must carve their own path.”

”What? How obnoxious.”

Having used up all her patience on Anagin today, Sphinx threw a blunt and direct insult.

It was a bit much, but it couldn’t be helped. Hearing Anagin spout that teacher-like line about carving his own path was genuinely irritating.

Fortunately, the exceptionally patient Sanchonius asked a more productive question.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Of course.”

Anagin answered confidently, then walked over to the still-kneeling village bandits.

“You want to live, right? And you want to keep the wealth you’ve worked so hard to gather.”

“Yes!!”

Perhaps their tension had eased after some time had passed, the bandits answered loudly without stuttering.

They really did want to live. After all, having worked so hard robbing others to build up wealth, it would be frustrating to die without ever using it.

“If you listen to a few of my demands, I’ll let you live.”

Life returned to the bandits’ eyes. A way out had appeared.

Just as Anagin was about to state his demands, Sanchonius gently touched him to get his attention.

He was the type to call someone politely rather than touch them, so it was unusual.

“Sir Anagin… surely, you’re not planning to let them go?”

His eyes were filled with concern.

From Sanchonius’s perspective, it was only natural.

They only looked pitiful now because they had run into the wrong person, but the village bandits were infamous enough to be listed in the Chiron Tower.

They moved in small groups, raiding villages, and the number of victims they had killed couldn’t even be counted. And yet, to simply let them go? That was unthinkable.

As Anagin was about to respond—

“W-we had no choice!”

One of the elderly bandits suddenly shouted.

“We didn’t rob because we wanted to, young man! We wandered in poverty, and to survive, we had no choice but to do this!”

Everyone listened to the old man in silence.

Anagin said nothing and simply watched. The New Argonaut Expedition Team trio listened as if hearing nonsense, while Sanchonius showed a hint of anger.

It wasn’t a good reaction.

However, the excited old man seemed to think it was working and raised his voice even more.

“We also did it to survive! And these children were starving! We are victims as well—”

Thud!

Just as the old man pointed at a frightened child and tried to justify his crimes, Anagin kicked him in the face.

Unlike before, he put real force into it, and the old man’s neck snapped backward as he died instantly.

Anagin hadn’t intended to kill him, but he didn’t particularly regret it.

Seeing an old man use a child as an excuse was especially disgusting.

Fwoooosh.

The sound of the wind echoed as a silence descended.

“Don’t tell me your useless sob stories one by one. I didn’t ask, and I don’t care. What I asked was whether you can follow my demands.”

No one answered. They were too terrified of Anagin to even open their mouths.

“W-what are they?”

Just as irritation began to rise from the silence, a voice came from the back.

It was the village chief, the leader of the bandits.

Despite having lost an arm and broken a leg, the old man was still alive.

“Wow, you’re not dead.”

“If you tell us what you want… we will cooperate as much as possible.”

“Not ‘as much as possible.’ You’ll follow everything. I’m giving you a chance to live.”

Anagin made it clear there was no room for negotiation. The village chief fell silent.

“Will you do it or not?”

“I-I will.”

“Good. First demand, I’m taking that magical tool called the Village Storage Box. In exchange, I’ll return the rest.”

The Village Storage Box was the key magic tool that allowed the bandits to subdue skilled opponents despite their lack of ability.

It was, quite literally, a treasure they had obtained through sheer luck.

And Anagin demanded that very treasure.

But there was no choice. The village chief nodded.

It was practically already taken anyway. If the rest would be returned, he had to be grateful.

’It’s not bad. He must be sincere about returning the rest. There’s no reason to lie.’

The village chief reassured himself, feeling some relief. But along with that relief came anxiety.

It meant he would be worked to the bone in return.

”I’ll need you to help me just once.”

“With… what…?”

“Will saying it change anything? Just say whether you’ll do it or not.”

Anagin didn’t even explain what it was. He only asked whether he would do it.

It felt like facing an evil beast from a story.

A wicked, cunning creature that lured people into traps and led them to ruin.

Yet fundamentally, Anagin wasn’t wrong.

He didn’t know what it was, but the village chief couldn’t refuse.

If he did, Anagin would kill them all and take everything anyway.

“…I will help.”

The village chief forced the words out, as if heading to his death.

Anagin paid no mind to his feelings, nodded once, and stood up.

Then he walked over to Sanchonius.

“You know the terrain around here well, right?”

“I have a general understanding from maps.”

At Anagin’s expectant question, Sanchonius answered immediately.

As a retainer who always did his best, he had studied and memorized all the terrain of northern Hellas.

Anagin asked if there was any rugged, maze-like terrain, and after asking for a moment, Sanchonius pulled out a map.

And shortly after—

“There is one not far from here.”

“Good. Pinku-Pinku, use their Freedom’s Thread and write something for me.”

Following his instructions, Sphinx brought the Freedom’s Thread owned by the bandits and prepared to write.

“Where?”

“The information board.”

The village chief’s face turned pale, as if something had gone terribly wrong.

Sphinx continued.

“The title?”

“Write, ‘Nice to meet you. I am Anagin…’”

“…The content?”

Soon, everyone else’s faces turned just as pale as the village chief’s.

”Tell them I’ll let those who want the Coins of Greed know where I am, so come and take them if they’re confident.”