Chapter 149

149 Episode

Hassan and the Underground Mayor

149 – Hassan and the Underground Mayor #3

Creak, creak-crack.

As I tensed my arms and wrist, the thick and sturdy steel plate bent into half. I folded it again and then crumpled it completely.

Thud.

I then flung it in front of the dark-banana-clad man.

“Alright, that’s enough. Give me my money back.”

“What? This…this is titanium. How could you…?”

The owner of the underground sundries shop stared back and forth between my face and the metallic lump I had squeezed into a ball with eyes full of disbelief. His remaining pupil was clearly filled with shock and horror.

Truthfully, I was surprised myself.

I had only wanted to try out my excessive strength on something. I hadn’t expected that I could actually bend a steel plate like this.

Sigh, so my current grip strength of 12 isn’t a joke, huh?

Even Elpride in her best condition would have had difficulty doing something like this. Elpride used to be able to bend thick iron bars with her hands.

In fact, if Elpride could do it with her strength, maybe I can do the same too?

That thought filled me with sudden confidence.

“Alright, return the money quickly, boy. Or I’ll really flay you alive.”

I reached towards the dark-banana-clad man sitting on the chair. Grabbing both his temples with my fingers, I twisted hard. The man writhed and screamed.

“GAHHHH!”

I lifted the man’s entire body up by his head alone. Paranoi screamed from behind.

“That…that is Master Hassan’s 18th fatal technique, number four! Gritty d*ath’s Grasp…!”

I have no idea what “Gritty d*ath’s Grasp” is. The technique I’m currently using actually has a name.

Iron Claw.

In wrestling, it’s not among the more dangerous techniques due to showmanship, but…

Creeeeak.

With added grip strength and accurate pressure points targeted on the temples, it can certainly inflict real damage.

“d*ath GRIP?! GGGGGH! My head feels like it’s going to explode! I really think I’ll d*e!”

The man writhed and wriggled, clearly in great distress. It might seem exaggerated that he’s suffering this much just from having his head gripped,

but strangely, I felt like I could actually make this man’s skull crack with just my grip right now.

“GGGGRRAAAAAHHH! Alright! I’ll give it back! I’ll give it to you! Just let go!”

“Should have done that sooner.”

Thud.

I slightly released the strength in my hands. The one-eyed man in the dark banana suit collapsed like a string-cut marionette.

“Ugh… d*mn, I really thought my skull would break… I thought I was going to d*e…”

The man’s remaining brown eye was filled with bloodshot veins.

He then clutched his head and glanced at us warily, then rummaged around a corner of the shop and threw a small parcel at me.

“That’s…from my pocket!”

Paranoi’s cheerful voice caught the package in mid-air.

Jingle.

And inspected the contents as the Nymph of Ditch Water.

“Hmm… all seven are here… Master Hassan, this is really impressive!”

And with eyes much larger than her small frame, she acted like she was about to cry from joy. Seven gold pieces are worth enough to bring a person to tears, so it wasn’t strange.

“Don’t go around saying you got a refund somewhere. You’ll just cause trouble if every dog and cow comes around asking for one.”

Watching this, the man in the dark banana suit muttered discontentedly and spat on the floor.

Judging from how he wasn’t cowed by just a couple of punches, he certainly deserved to be called a merchant surviving in this lawless underground.

“Uh… I didn’t know someone’s strength could be so great. They say Samaritans are strong like bears… it seems to be true.”

That mutter was responded to not by me, but by Paranoi, the Convert Nymph.

“Master Hassan… is a Samaritan who returned alive from hell! Stronger than any bear!”

Though it was me using the strength, somehow it sounded like she was boasting more than me.

Like the fox riding on the tiger’s back… or in this case, the squirrel riding on the fox’s back. Still, being praised by someone else didn’t feel too bad.

I’ll have to use this later on Hippolyte.

“Is Master Hassan of Samaria… the adventurer from the Mars Guild everyone’s talking about on the surface?”

The man asked as he stroked his remaining hair.

To which Malco responded.

“That’s right, he’s the hero of the currently popular ‘Good Samaritan’ folk song and ‘Barbarian who caught a lion’ poem. And I, Malco, wrote both of them.”

“Oh, that extremely funny song. I’ve heard it too. Sometimes I hear street musicians singing it in this underground market.”

“What?! Playing my songs without paying me?! How disgraceful!”

Malco clenched his fists tightly, looking genuinely angry.

This was the first time I’d seen him this upset. Despite being an odd fellow, perhaps he has the pride of an artist?

Though it didn’t really look intimidating since he was only wearing his underpants.

“Haha.”

The dark-banana-clad man scanned our faces – mine, Malco’s, Luna’s, and Paranoi’s – then stroked his beard and smirked.

“Wow, I thought the rumors were exaggerated, but your strength is truly remarkable. You seem to be strong enough to catch lions with your bare hands. So, how about helping me flatten this crumpled steel plate?”

“Flatten this again?”

“Looking at it, it seems like you might have something to ask me anyway. So why don’t you go ahead and tell me?”

The dark-banana-clad man slid the crumpled lump of steel towards me. Though I had accidentally crumpled it earlier, I wondered if I could really flatten it again.

“Master Hassan doesn’t find such things difficult… sit still and wait, you fraud!”

“Hotan, will you be okay?”

Responses were varied. Paranoi looked confident, while Luna watched me with a hint of worry in her eyes.

Luna grabbed the crumpled steel plate and tried applying some strength.

“Ughh!”

But it didn’t budge an inch.

“Hotan, how did you bend this thing?”

“I don’t know.”

With a careless attitude like “It’s nothing, let’s try flattening it again,” I took the crumpled steel plate.

And applied some strength.

Gasp!

Creeeeak, creak-crack.

The steel plate, which was curled up, began to flatten out slowly with a rather satisfying sound.

“Mate, stop! This Malco fears he might lose consciousness. What sorcery is this human strength?!”

As Malco started trembling in fear at this ghastly sight, I finally put down the almost flattened steel plate.

Actually, I was getting a bit tired now.

How should I put it… it feels like a lack of stamina.

It seems I can exert great strength momentarily, but maintaining it is proving difficult for this body.

Sigh. Perhaps I’ve focused too much on raw strength.

While I was slightly reflecting on being overly concentrated on one capability, the dark-banana-clad man was holding the flattened steel plate with a satisfactory smile.

“Hehe, this would make a splendid mark that a famous Samaritan from the city has been here. Customers will surely come out of curiosity to see this. Also, could you perhaps sign it as well?”

“Get lost, boy.”

“Even without a signature, it’s sufficient, isn’t it? Who would think a Spartan warrior or Samaritan would come to flatten a steel plate?”

The man hung the crumpled steel plate back in its original place.

However, as it wasn’t in a proper exhibition shape, after searching for the right position, he finally decided to place it on the display stand instead.

“Alright, that’s done. So, what did you want to ask me? Normally I’d charge for information, but since you’re a celebrity, I’ll make this a special service.”

Swoosh.

Pointing at the flattened steel plate with my finger at his words.

“I’m interested in this.”

“The titanium plate? It’s made from a special metal called titanium by the underground blacksmiths. It’s sturdy to at least twice as much as regular iron-.”

“Not that. The marking etched there.”

“Ah, the hydra? It’s not necessary to explain that. The hydra rules this underground. They’re like the nobility of the underground.”

At the man’s words, Luna asked.

“Nobility of the underground? What’s that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, the nobility that governs the underground. Hydra is a large organization. Actually, it also refers to one specific person. The King Thief, Hydra.”

The man, as if collecting his thoughts while stroking his jaw, glanced around with his one remaining eye.

Then continued quietly in a voice only we nearby could hear.

“But nowadays, the Thief Guild isn’t like it used to be. In the old days, there was more… how do I say, romance?”

A Guild made by thieves should always be a band of outlaws, but isn’t it strange to talk about romance?

Since coming to this world, I’ve adapted to many things, but this is different. d*mn it. Romantic thieves? Are they leaving letters and roses after stealing things?

While my thoughts wandered about this puzzling question, Malco asked.

“I’ve heard that the head of Thief Guild has changed, is that true?”

“Yes, that’s true. The current head of the Thief Guild is the eighth generation Hydra. He’s a rather merciless monster of a man. This is all I know, Mr. Samaritan sir. I wouldn’t get too deep involved if I were you.”

…

“Hotan, he was more considerate than expected.”

Tchack, tchack.

Luna licked the red candy in her hand and smiled. The dark-banana-clad man gave each of us a piece of red hard candy as a parting gift.

“I will keep them and eat them when I get back to the cabin.”

Luna carefully placed the stick candy into the pouch on her belt, wrapping it in a clean handkerchief to prevent grime from sticking to it.

Here, sweets that taste sweet are quite luxurious gourmet foods, so getting them for free was quite lucky.

Luna was right; he was considerate in a way, but if he were really kind, d*mn, he wouldn’t have swindled us with fake goods in the first place.

Strangely enough, even Paranoi, who was the one swindled, seemed to have completely forgotten about it, happily licking her candy.

“Thanks to Master Hotan, we got free candy…! It’s delicious…!”

“I received some clothes too. Though they’re a bit small.”

Malco, wearing pants a bit too tight, wobbled around in them while walking. It was a bit embarrassing to see the boy wandering around in just his underwear, so it was fortunate to have received some spare leather clothes.

Anyway, quite a lot of profit was made.

We got candy and learned quite a bit about the Thief Guild.

The King of Thieves, Hydra, is currently in the eighth generation it seems.

It appears that they pass on the title like mafia bosses.

When one leader gets caught, another takes over; when another leader gets caught, yet another follows; it feels like it can’t be eliminated.

Then, to destroy the Thief Guild entirely, would it be necessary to wipe out everyone?

Hippolyte, being a high-level adventurer, seems likely to be able to manage something, but it feels very dangerous for us like Naru, Luna, Paranoi, and Malco to probe into this.

Our current group doesn’t need to take such dangerous paths.

Anyway, Hippolyte will probably take care of everything by tomorrow.

Hippolyte.

She was softer than expected, huh.

I might call her ‘sister’.

Following this stream of consciousness, while aimlessly walking through the underground market, I noticed a large crowd gathering in one corner, murmuring among themselves.

“Hotan, look! There’s a crowd over there!”

Luna, who has always been sensitive to events like the Rock Festival from her childhood, seemed unable to resist being drawn to the gathered people.

“Is it the Rock Festival in the underground? Let’s all go and see together!”

“Hem, hem. I am good, thank you, sisters.”

Malco reacted strongly to the mention of the Rock Festival. He must have had some traumatic memories from being tied to a tree during a festival. d*mn, I should have let him get beaten more back then.

Anyway, since today was supposed to be about relaxing and spending money, we eventually wormed our way through the crowd of people who had gathered.

And then.

Through the circle of people who had packed themselves into a circle, we saw thick iron bars.

And inside those iron bars was a lock that several people were trying to break with tools that looked like hairpins while muttering to themselves.

Inside the iron bars, quite a lot of coins were piled up, and on top of them stood a large man in a mask who was moving around, shouting here and there.

“Hurry up, you guys! Slow! There’s already plenty of time since the guards have been alerted! The guild can’t take in clumsy people like you!”

“Ugh… Just… a bit more time!”

“You weaklings! Go tell that to the landlord! ‘Just a bit more time, please, we’ll just pack up and leave!'”

I couldn’t understand what it all meant. Iron bars and guys with masks? Is it some kind of freak show?

Given this world’s unique s*xual tastes, perhaps someone is getting excited watching guys trying to pick locks while a man dressed in a mask and leather shouts at them.

It was then that Malco explained.

“Ah, it’s the Thief Guild’s entrance interview. I’d heard they’re occasionally held in the underground market, but it’s my first time seeing one in person.”

“So this is an interview?”

At the explanation that this was the recruitment process for the Thief Guild, everything suddenly made sense.

In this world of thievery and underground life, the process itself made a bizarre sort of sense.

“Seems like that.” Malco adjusted himself and stood a little more upright. “If we don’t hurry, they’ll start the next event. It’s rare to be able to see this, so it’s valuable!”

“Hmm.”

“Master Hotan, let’s watch!”

“Alright.”

Though not entirely enthusiastic about the idea, I found myself being dragged along by Paranoi’s fervor.

The world of thievery, as it turned out, was stranger than I had imagined, yet it had its own twisted logic.

As we stood watching, more candidates attempted to unlock the iron bars, while the imposing figure above barked orders and occasional threats.

And somewhere in the bustling underground market, life went on – a world apart from the light of the surface, yet brimming with its own peculiar energy and vitality.

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