Andre led a squad on patrol through the streets.
"Sir, do you think that rumor could be true?" One of his men sidled up and asked quietly. The topic immediately caught the other squad members' interest, and they crowded over, all talking at once.
"They've made it sound so outlandish. I'd say it's probably fake."
"I don't know. So many people have been telling it with a nose and eyes, like they saw it themselves. I think it's true."
Irritation surged through Andre, and he could not help snapping, "All of you, shut up!" With that, he continued forward, his face dark. Seeing their leader's anger, the others fell silent as cicadas in winter and hurried after him.
Andre was powerfully built, nearly a hundred and ninety centimeters tall. Standing there, he looked like a small mountain. His muscles were lean and hard as iron; no one looking at his physique would have imagined he came from the Shield-Blade Style. His chestnut hair was a tangled mess of weeds, beneath which a pair of piercing eyes made people afraid to meet his gaze.
He was the constable of Menderson Fort, primarily responsible for routine patrols. Menderson Fort was not a large city, merely the closest one to the Outer Hundred Abysses. Flexible Assassins entering the Outer Hundred Abysses all passed through here. The settlement was small, a tangled nest of dragons and snakes, with terrible public order. But since he became constable, its security had improved considerably. His iron-fisted methods made formidable figures of every stripe deeply wary.
Recently, rumors about a pair of outlaws, a man and a woman, had spread like wildfire. The complete annihilation of the Nine-Tail Bandit Group, in particular, had left everyone in the region on edge. Andre, however, knew this was no mere rumor.