Chapter 53: Vale Tudo

The Leone clan was a tribe of mercenaries.

They had “Ears,” middlemen who took on jobs from all over and assigned them to the strike teams who actually carried them out.

For small jobs, the Ear would just pass the message along. But about once a month, the top twenty-ranked members were gathered together, and the clan leader himself would hand out the big jobs.

In practice, the official business wrapped up in five minutes, and the rest turned into a drinking party.

Everyone had been told to bring a snack to share, so I’d gone with something simple: potatoes and onions, fried up with plenty of pepper.

And here’s how everyone reacted when I showed up with my dish.

“Oh-ho! So Ratchet’s here today, is he? We’re counting on some human cooking!”

“Hey, Ratchet! We’re looking forward to your snack tonight!”

“Last time, and the time before that, I was the champion of the Snack Championship. …Hmph. You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you, Ratchet! This time it’s going to be a duel between you and meeee!”

“Oh my, Lord Ratchet, that looks heavy. Allow me—no, allow me! I am Friege, Rank Ten! I shall carry it for you. No thanks are needed! Just… if you’d kindly remember me when the snacks are being divided up! Ahh, I look far too inhuman to go into town, so I’ve been looking forward to this party!”

And then, when I opened the container, this was the reaction.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Potatoes, just cut up, and onions fried with them… is it…? At first glance, it’s rough. But, but! I can sense it… the potential in this dish! …Then, a taste… hmm! It’s cooked, but unevenly! The potatoes still hard at the center, the onions sharp! And that pepper, clumped like little traps, springing on my mouth! This—this is human cooking! It’s… it’s delicious! Deli-cioussss! Lord Ratchet! I’m moved!”

A smash hit—with one person, at least.

And humanity got misunderstood—by one person, at least.

For most, the gap between expectation and reality cast a funeral pall over the table. Sorry about that.

Still, my opinion of Rank Ten shot up. I even remembered his name: Friege. He’d climbed higher in my estimation than the cat-ear-glasses.

“…”

For the most part, only Friege—and out of pity, Rikan and Mr. Schwantz—were touching my snack, so the dish hardly dwindled. Since there was no helping it, I ate some myself. …Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. Once it’s in your stomach, it’s all the same anyway.

“―”

Nibbling on potatoes, I washed them down with low-alcohol liquor mixed with some kind of milk.

As I repeated that process, all of a sudden Rikan-papa, Rank One, clapped his hands together. The attention shifted his way.

“Sorry to interrupt your fun, but it seems Lux has a request—or rather, a complaint—for you, Ratchet. Hear him out.”

“Would this… be about the snack, perhaps?”

Munch munch.

“No, if it’s about that, I’ll say it myself.”

He was dead serious.

“…Your son seems to be eating it with great relish, though?”

“It is not tasty!”

Rikan bellowed. Schwantz, who was also eating it out of pity, nodded in agreement. Someone patted me on the shoulder. I turned to look. “I think it’s delicious, I do!” said Friege, giving me a thumbs-up. The Friege stock in my heart just kept climbing higher and higher. What was I going to do about this?

As I was thinking that, one man stood up. Judging by his seat, he was Rank Seventeen. A refined-looking fellow, almost as close to human as Eevee. From a human perspective, he would easily pass as handsome.

“The issue I want to raise tonight is about the woman he monopolized.”

His sweet voice matched his looks perfectly as he said it, flashing me a dazzling smile.

“…”

Here it was.

I had known this would come, and I had steeled myself for it. Even so, after letting myself get caught up in the cheerful mood of the banquet, I needed to shift gears. I tipped back the cup at hand and downed it in one gulp.

“―”

My head spun. My vision wavered.

I’d forgotten. This was booze.

Clutching my throbbing head, I took a breath—once, twice—and managed to steady my sight again.

“As you all know, not long ago, Ratchet chose several people from the human village and added them to his squad. That in itself is fine. However, among them, he recruited someone who is clearly useless as fighting power. Yes, I speak of that human woman.”

He swept his gaze around the room, gesturing broadly.

Like an actor on a stage addressing the crowd, the refined man played to his audience.

He confirmed their eyes were on him, nodded with satisfaction, and went on.

“I can understand his claim, since he’s human. He’s protecting his own kind! But from our side, this is a serious problem! We can’t produce!”

He shouted it. But few echoed him.

Of course, they didn’t. For the people here, that “problem” wasn’t a problem at all. Because—

“Generally speaking, things made with Tooth are higher performing than things made with humans. That’s the common understanding, isn’t it?”

Unless compatibility is extraordinary, there’s no reason to use a human.

—But me and Touji are compatible, aren’t we? So let’s do it. Let’s do it tonight. Even if it’s a little perverted, I’ll accept you, Touji!

A friend of mine had once said something like that. I’d insisted I was normal.

“Yes, that’s true. But there are those who have no partner at all.”

“I see. So you’re speaking as their representative, then?”

“Yes. Embarrassing as it is, I’ve had very little luck with women myself, so I understand how they feel!”

“For someone in the top twenty not to be popular, surely that can’t be? Even I’ve been approached, you know. Is there some fatal flaw—ah, I see.”

A breath.

“You’re small, aren’t you?”

I smiled sweetly and said it gently.

A few people burst out laughing.

The refined man flushed crimson. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Clearly, he hadn’t expected this comeback.

“I hear what matters is love. Do your best. Tell the others below you the same. There’s no need to go out of your way to make something with poor performance, so there’s really no problem, is there?”

And that wrapped up the discussion.

I cut it off and went back to dealing with the snack—

“Wait, Ratchet.”

A voice stopped me. I turned my eyes toward it. A massive figure stood there, his whole body chitinous, like he was wearing armor. Rank… Twentieth.

“I’ve got a partner. But I use her for pleasure. So give her back, yeah?”

“…”

My eyes narrowed.

I exhaled the emotions threatening to spill over, trying to keep calm. …Ah. No. I couldn’t.

“Then go jerk yourself off. If you don’t know how, I can teach you, little boy.”

“Hey, hey. Like I’d be satisfied with something like that.”

“Ah, so you’ve done it too much and gotten bored. My apologies, Master Onanist, conqueror of self-pleasure.”

“Don’t get cocky, human trash.”

“Don’t bark, Rank Twenty.”

Chirr.

The air sizzled. Tension sparked like something about to ignite. My hand was already aware of the pistol at my hip holster, and Onanist had his muscles taut, ready to spring.

Tooth culture was a pure hierarchy of strength.

At this point, no one would stop us.

Both of us stood and headed out of the tent.

Moonlight. The glow of houses. In that thin blend of light against the darkness, we slowly faced one another.

“…In cases like this, what’s the rule in the Leone clan?”

“Anything goes. Vale Tudo. Think of it like a battlefield.”

“I see. Thank you.”

I bowed my head to him—

“Then, farewell.”

The next instant, his right arm exploded off.

“…Wh—whaaat?”

Rank Twenty stared blankly, like he couldn’t process what had happened.

I drew my pistol from the hip holster and shot through both his knees. At the same time, his left arm blew apart. The second shot of the night. From the other end of the always-open comm line, one of the Monoz, Snake Unit, had taken the sniper shot.

“W-wait! You—you bastard, Ratchet, wait! That’s against the rules! Using your comrades?!”

“Hmm? But it’s anything goes, isn’t it? Didn’t you say to fight as if it were war? That’s all I’m doing. What’s wrong with that?”

“Of course it’s wrong! It’s supposed to be one-on-one!”

“Oh, is that so? My apologies. I didn’t know. Back in my middle school, ‘anything goes’ meant anything goes, and we were taught you never fought alone on the battlefield. Which school did you go to? A little cross-cultural exchange, eh?”

I laughed. While laughing, I shot his throat.

“―”

His protest dissolved into silence. Seeing that, I stepped closer.

“I see. It seems there’s been an unfortunate misunderstanding this time. That’s why I think it’s only fair to reset and start over. But for now, the winner is me. For the sake of closure, I’d like you to bow your head and apologize.”

Rank Twenty, clutching at his shot-up knees, forced himself to bend forward. But no voice came out.

“―, ―!”

The hole torn in his throat only made a wheeze.

“What’s wrong? Why won’t you apologize? Ah. I see—you’d rather keep your pride. You’re a man too good to waste your life in an ambush like this. Then I will respect your wish.”

No! That’s not it! That’s not it!

Rank Twenty shook his head, wheezing like a broken toy.

I stepped closer with a smile, kicked his jaw with my steel left, and sent him sprawling onto his back.

“Then, farewell. Prideful Onanist.”

I aimed the muzzle at his eye and stomped down on his throat.

“P-please! Forgive me—!”

“…Oh?”

Miraculously, a voice escaped his mouth.

“…”

“…”

I grinned; he forced a smile at the corner of his mouth.

He apologized. If he apologized, then—as agreed—I was supposed to forgive him; a man must keep his word. But—

“Too bad. You haven’t bowed your head.”

I pulled the trigger.

Gunfire roared. Two shots. The same number as his eyes.