"Stop..."
I didn't turn around, but I could tell the voice belonged to wild wolf.
"BOSS... but!"
"Can't you hear me?"
"S-sorry..."
It was hard to imagine that this three-hundred-pound-plus, over-six-foot-tall fat man could be as obedient as a quail.
He slowly set me down, hunching his shoulders as if afraid of something.
I straightened my rumpled collar and turned around. Beside the balcony, at a round table, wild wolf... was holding a deck of cards.
He seemed to have been shuffling them, but now his gaze was fixed on me.
"Woman, we meet again."
"I... don't really... like... meeting you..."
I spoke coolly. Fatty Two, behind me, let out an angry roar.
"Iceberg Woman! What did you say?!"
He sounded furious. I heard a rush of air behind me and instinctively drew a Glock 17 from under my arm. Holding it in my right hand, I clicked off the safety, then spun around and grabbed the fat man by the collar. Dodging his punch, I leaped onto his back.
I planted both feet firmly on his shoulders and pressed the Glock 17 against the back of his head.
"Don't... always... use... violence..."
I spoke coolly. The fat man beneath me seemed to feel the gun. Anyone who'd lasted long in a mercenary group wasn't stupid, and he immediately froze in place.
I had to admit, the fat man was incredibly strong. When I landed on him, he didn't even tremble. That meant my hundred-odd pounds were practically nothing to him.
"Woman, lower your gun. No conflicts in the Mercenary Guild can be settled with guns. If you really want a fight to the death, use a knife."
Wild wolf spoke calmly, without a trace of worry that one of his companions had been captured. He sounded as if nothing