"Beauty and the Beast"

Quite a few Ursus mercenaries were standing all around them.

"This is your target. If everything goes smoothly, you'll create a legend in this generation—a story.

"Future villains will mention your infamous names again and again, and use you as their role models.

"A feeling that comes once in ten thousand."

Koschei said this, and the Ursus men stared at the portrait like fanatical believers, as if capturing that girl would turn them into legends.

Still, it was true that doing something shocking and unprecedented made it easier for people to remember you.

For example, finding a way to get a nuclear bomb and blow up Arasaka Corporation, or kidnapping Taiko Group's beloved heiress.

But once you did something like that, staying alive became very difficult.

Judging by their feverish expressions, though, it seemed they had already prepared themselves for that.

In a world where everything came at a price, and where nothing could be gained without paying one, resolve did indeed make it easier to achieve your goals.

Because they didn't care about losing more, or rather, they had already prepared themselves to lose everything.

"What a boring proposal, Koschei."

Suddenly, in this otherwise perfect pre-battle meeting, while everyone was rubbing their fists and itching to get started, an incongruous voice rang out with piercing clarity.

It belonged to a silver-haired woman sitting on the sofa, silently watching everything unfold.

There was not a trace of warmth in her golden eyes. They felt like the eyes of a cold-blooded animal.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!"

The one who spoke before Koschei was one of the dogs he kept around.

The Ursus men were reveling in the pursuit of fame and profit, fully displaying the evil in their hearts. Naturally, they could not tolerate someone calling this boring.

Besides, she was a woman who had done nothing but watch everything since arriving, without saying a single word.

Even though the portrait had been brought by her, that did not stop these Ursus men from displaying their chauvinism.

People always formed their understanding of others based on their first impressions, and this was even more true of these Ursus mercenaries who had fought and killed for a living.

"When did dogs learn to bark at griffins?"

"A griffin? What's that? No, wait! What the hell do you mean, you stinking woman?!"

Koschei seemed happy to watch the farce unfold. He made no attempt to stop it, merely observing with a faintly amused smile.

The mercenary leader stood nearly two meters tall. As expected of an Ursus, he was built like a beast.

Compared to him, Chlorine Sodium, who was only 163 centimeters tall, had to raise her head to meet his gaze.

Chlorine Sodium did not really care about this sort of thing. If a dog barked at you, would you really argue with it?

Of course not. But a person could pull out a hunting rifle and teach it who was boss.

The moment she finished speaking, the woman said nothing else. She simply kicked the Ursus mercenary in the knee.

"Urgh!"

The mercenary had not expected this tiny woman to dare attack him!

With her small build and slender figure, she looked as though surviving the Ursus winter would be difficult enough. And yet she had actually hit him?!

Then something unbelievable happened. Before the man could even dodge, his knee—protected by a kneepad and packed with muscle—gave a strange crack and bent backward.

The violent pain made him instinctively want to cry out. His own weight pressed down on the joint, which had already bent the wrong way, making it impossible for him to remain standing. As he fell, his face finally came level with Chlorine Sodium's.

"Who gave you permission to look down on a god?"

He was too tall, and she disliked looking at him, so she made him kneel.

As she spoke, the girl swung a fist.

The next moment, the wooden door and the flying man made intimate contact. The impact shattered the door, sending splinters flying everywhere.

Well, damn.

The others were completely dumbfounded. The mercenary leader had been struck by a woman until his face was a bloody mess, and then he just...

flew out?!

Clapping her hands as if brushing off dirt that had gotten on them, the girl pointed at the second-tallest man among the remaining mercenaries.

"You'll be the leader."

At that moment, the cunning old fox Koschei finally clapped his hands and made his presence felt, bringing the farce to an end.

"As expected of my ally. Simple and decisive. But what did you mean by 'boring'?"

Koschei clearly still had no idea how terrible an impression he had made on Chlorine Sodium.

"A legend? A kidnapping case? Has the cost of becoming a villain really fallen this low?"

What sort of person was Koschei? He was an absolute supervillain, an evil mastermind on the same level as Chlorine Sodium, despite belonging to a different system.

After all, one was a native of this world, while the other was a villain who had crossed over with a system.

And yet this villain had gone to so much trouble just to carry out a kidnapping?

"Hmm, it seems you misunderstood. This is only one part of it."

It was merely one movement in the concerto of a gigantic conspiracy.

He was not the sort of person who would be satisfied with a single ransom payment.

"That guy is dead."

The factory district stood deserted, and it was obvious that a battle had taken place here.

Unlike the people from the Guard Department, these Sarkaz mercenaries had been born in the flames of war and had made warfare the entirety of their lives. Naturally, their understanding and powers of observation were somewhat better than those of the Guard Department.

They could easily tell that a battle had occurred here.

Although the bodies had already been removed and the scorch marks on the ground had gradually faded with time, the traces left behind would not disappear.

There was also the faint smell of blood lingering in the air.

"The Guard Department came here."

"Yes. And the gangs here suffered a devastating blow as well."

The captain squatted on the ground, looking at the marks that could only have been left by a knife.

"The Guard Department really is full of amateurs. They can't even track the traces of original residue carried through the air—the most basic method."

As he spoke, the man in the lead stood up.

"Let's go. Time to settle the score."

PS: I'm so sleepy. Staying up late to write is killing me, sob sob.

Section 70: Chapter Sixty-Eight—Beauty and the Beast

"Resonance? What is that?"

The little girl still failed to understand what it meant. But Pianna said that it was fine, that it did not matter even if she didn't understand, because there was still plenty of time.

"Ugh, there's still time?"

Suddenly, just as she hugged the package she had gotten from the newspaper stall by the roadside and prepared to return home, several figures appeared on the road.

They were dressed in somewhat tattered clothing, yet carried the smell of gunpowder with them.

Sarkaz mercenaries.

Their equipment was an utter mess. Homemade gear that was easy to identify, along with short guns, crossbows, staffs, and even long blades that might have come from the Sankta, were all strapped to their backs.

They looked like seasoned veterans, yet had no formal affiliation.

Yelena was extremely sensitive and immediately caught the gunpowder smell mixed with blood clinging to the group. She shifted slightly to the side.

The others displayed no hostility and hurried along like ordinary passersby on the street.

They passed each other without incident.

"Phew~"

It seemed that nothing had happened.

Because of recent events, Yelena had apparently developed an instinctive aversion toward anyone who might pose a threat.

Dangerous people, people who looked as though they meant trouble, and people who acted crazy—even if they did not emit any hostility, such people would make Yelena instinctively keep her distance.

She would also stay on maximum alert.

Perhaps it was instinct. Perhaps the martial arts she had practiced and everything she had experienced had given Yelena this sense of vigilance. Seeing the group walk farther and farther away, Yelena did not look back. She did not want to attract attention, so she hurried into the alley and disappeared.

What she did not know was that the moment the girl stepped into the alley, the Sarkaz mercenaries stopped in their tracks.

"It's faint, but it's the same smell."

The man in the lead slowly gripped the hilt at his waist.

"Is it her? Does she know what happened at the scene?"

The men under him also began preparing to draw their weapons and interrogate her at the scene until they got the answer they wanted.

Sarkaz did not believe in humanity. Years of war had long since ground away the last remnants of their humanity, so what was there left to call humane?

"No. It isn't time yet."

"Shing!"

The short blade suddenly swept through his hand. Every Sarkaz carried a dagger on their person. No matter who they were or what situation they were in, that close-fitting dagger would never leave their side. The only weapon they could trust was the one in their own hand.

This was the Sarkaz.

The tip of the blade pointed toward a patch of shadow beside them.

"Come out. Did you really think I wouldn't know you'd been watching from there for so long?!"

Only then did the other men notice that, at some point, a woman had appeared beside the wall, standing where the shadows gathered.

And she was a Sarkaz woman at that.

"Hmm-hm. Good eyes."

Clapping her hands, the girl slowly strolled out of the shadows. When the sunlight fell upon her once more, the Sarkaz mercenaries finally saw who she was.

She was indeed Sarkaz, but...

Behind that faint smile was an air completely different from theirs.

Female mercenaries were not uncommon in Kazdel. In Kazdel, a nation built on war and violence, mercenaries came in all genders and ages. But nobles from Kazdel were rarely seen.

"Good morning, gentlemen who are attempting to do something strange to a young girl."

Though she wore ordinary clothes, her bearing was not something an ordinary Sarkaz could possess. Arrogance and savagery, elegance and malice—all existed within her at once.

If she was a noble, then her status naturally had to match.

As for her ordinary-looking clothes, the man in the lead had enough knowledge to recognize that they were actually custom-made.

They could not be washed, ironed, dry-cleaned, or recycled. Once they had been worn a few times and became dirty, they had to be thrown away. They were luxury goods.

Her crimson eyes glimmered faintly beneath the sunlight. Her pale golden hair and dark-red chitinous horns came together to form a girl who was both sharp and elegant.

Her heels struck the concrete ground, producing a crisp, pleasant sound.

Pianna looked far too young. At least, that was how she had been designed. She lacked the stately grandeur of a mature woman. Even with a few accessories, she still did not possess that lazy charm. Instead, her brows and eyes were sharp as blades, carrying the allure of a forbidden fruit.

She took half a step back and lifted the edge of her skirt slightly. Her posture was elegant, arrogant, and restrained—lofty, yet looking down upon no one. It was the kind of affected "equality" that was, in truth, a contemptuous downward gaze.

She was not overly aggressive, but neither was she excessively humble. That was how nobles behaved: they always pushed their luck once they had the upper hand.

She spoke softly.

"You may call me Pianna."

Nobles valued complicated, drawn-out etiquette, yet there was no "courtesy" in it.

Because it was merely a game rule.