How to survive as a beggar count

Chapter 12

“But, Young Master! That’s far too dangerous!”

“Then it’ll taste even better. You know how they say the harder the journey, the sweeter the fruit?”

“Is that… even a saying?”

“If not, then consider it something I just made up. Anyway, lead the way.”

“Ugh…”

“Are you more scared of the bandits or me?”

“N-not at all! I’ll guide you right away!”

Lam, looking as though he’d rather die than proceed, reluctantly led the way.

But what choice did he have?

He was already guilty of badmouthing Ian behind his back.

If he could get through this by simply showing the way, that would be the best-case scenario.

‘Though, to be honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing their faces up close.’

There was no way Ian would tolerate bandits running rampant in his territory.

Every coin was precious, and they dared to pillage here?

“This… this is where the Bluepins grow,” Lam stammered.

“Oh, interesting…”

As Lam had described, the Bluepins looked identical to the Redpins, save for their color.

The deep blue hue, bordering on black, made it seem as though they might taste bitter.

“So these are Bluepins…”

The Redpins had been plenty sweet and delicious. But if these were even sweeter and more fragrant…

Gulp!

Ian’s mouth watered. He reached out to pluck one for a taste.

“Hey, we’ve got company,” a sudden unfamiliar voice interrupted as Ian reached for the fruit.

The voice was rough, vulgar, and grating to the ears.

“Eeek…!”

Lam turned pale as soon as he saw the owner of the voice.

Looking at Lam, who seemed to have a weak constitution, Ian couldn’t help but wonder how he’d had the audacity to badmouth him back at the tavern.

Was it the power of the atmosphere?

“…Who’s this guy?”

“Guy?”

At Ian’s use of the word, the man flinched.

He didn’t look particularly strong.

His bulging belly suggested he carried more fat than muscle.

And his outfit was a mess.

A half-tattered leather armor adorned with mismatched shoulder plates and a breastplate that seemed scavenged from who-knows-where.

He looked like a defeated soldier at best.

Yet, Lam trembled like a leaf at the sight of him.

It was enough for Ian to piece together who this might be.

“So you’re the one occupying the Bluepin grove.”

“Y-yes, that’s correct.”

Though only one man stood before them now, a glance behind him revealed signs of his companions lurking nearby.

It looked like there were about five or six in total.

The bandit, perhaps sensing Ian’s scrutiny, raised his voice in defiance.

“Ha! And who are you? Some wandering mercenary?”

“Not quite a mercenary, but something close.”

“Hah! You’re all alone! Boys, we’ve got a visitor!”

At his shout, several figures emerged from hiding among the grove.

They all looked no better than the first man, their attire equally ragged. It was clear the first man was the leader of this motley crew.

Five in total.

There was no way these few could dominate an entire village. They must have a base of operations elsewhere.

Even so, the small scale of their group made Ian tilt his head in mild confusion.

“This is it?”

“W-what did you say? Ha! O-of course not! With our men, we’ve got at least thirty!”

“Thirty? That’s still a bit underwhelming.”

“T-then maybe… fifty?”

“…”

“…”

Ian was momentarily speechless at the obvious bluff.

“Goodness… their numbers have grown to fifty already? Young Master, you must retreat immediately!”

“You believe that nonsense?”

“Huh? Well, that…”

“Sigh.”

Even the bandits in this run-down barony seemed laughably small-scale.

If they gathered every one of their members, maybe there’d be ten at most.

Ten wasn’t an insignificant number, of course.

For a remote village like Elevel, ten able-bodied men could easily wield power.

And since small villages wouldn’t stand a chance against bandits in a real fight, a bit of intimidation was usually all it took to bring them to their knees.

Such was the plight of the powerless.

“Ah, seriously…”

“…Young Master?”

The bandits, having heard Lam’s earlier words, turned their attention to me. One of them suddenly seemed to recognize me and shouted.

“Hey! That’s him! Ian Impera! That crazy noble brat!”

“What? This guy is that Ian?”

“Yeah! I saw him last time! He smashed some guy’s head with a bottle!”

“Oh…”

The leader’s gaze changed the moment he realized who I was.

Unlike most reactions to discovering my identity, his wasn’t one of surprise or panic.

Instead, his eyes sparkled as though he’d just stumbled upon a treasure trove.

“Keh keh! This must be my lucky day!”

“Treasure…?”

Usually, this is the point where people react with fear or hesitation. Just how much of a pushover am I perceived to be?

“Guys, this is it! You all know how much nobles like him are worth, right?”

“Heh heh! Of course! At least a hundred gold…”

“A hundred? Are you kidding me? Do you think the Impera family has a bunch of heirs running around?”

“They don’t?”

“He’s the only son of the esteemed Impera family! We’ll fetch hundreds of gold for him!”

“Hundreds of gold!”

“…But isn’t his family supposed to be broke? Do you think they’ll actually pay up?”

“A count’s family! Even if they’re broke, they must have some money!”

I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Sorry, guys, but there really isn’t much to go around.

“With that kind of money, we could buy so much meat!”

“Meat? Forget that! We could use it to set up a proper clan instead of running around like petty thugs!”

“Heh heh! This is a jackpot…”

The bandits were already chattering away about their grand plans for the ransom money they’d get from kidnapping me.

Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not happening.

A quick glance at the group told me everything I needed to know.

None of them had a trace of aura, and their stances with their weapons were amateurish at best.

In other words, they were fodder.

But fodder always has one thing in common—they don’t realize they are fodder.

Oblivious to their own limits, they continued to boast with excitement.

“Are you planning to kidnap me?”

“Heh heh! What else? Did you think we invited you here for a friendly chat?”

“Yeah, not really.”

“Ugh…”

Lam, who had followed me here, was trembling like a leaf, clearly convinced we were doomed.

“Hmm… I wonder if there’s even a few hundred gold in my family’s coffers,” I mused aloud.

“Ha! You nobles always have money! Of course there is!”

“…You know, the way you talk is starting to irritate me. Have you lost your senses out of fear or something?”

Shing!

The leader, who seemed to be the head of this sorry group, unsheathed his weapon.

The blade, though grimy, glinted sharply—it seemed like he at least kept it well-honed.

“If you come quietly, I promise no harm will come to you!”

“And if I refuse?”

“…What?”

“What if I don’t want to go with you? What will you do?”

“Ha! Are you saying you’re going to fight us all on your own?”

“Pretty much.”

“You little…!”

At this point, you’d think they’d realize something was off. But instead of suspecting anything, the leader only grew angrier.

One of his underlings, apparently more cautious, leaned in to whisper.

“Boss, maybe he’s stronger than he looks? Look at those broad shoulders—he seems like he could pack a punch…”

“Stronger? Are you kidding me? Don’t you know who Ian Impera is? He’s a drunken idiot who can’t even fight! All he does is throw his family name around!”

“Still… he seems a little too confident for someone like that…”

“Are you suggesting he’s an aura user or something? Have you lost your mind?!”

“Well, no, but…”

I can hear you, you know. If you’re going to whisper, at least be discreet about it.

“Man, your words are rough.”

There was no point in bantering further. Rather than waste time talking, it was time to take action.

Step.

I began walking slowly toward the bandits.

“W-wait!”

“So, shall we get started?”

“You… you little punk!”

“Careful! Don’t let him go blank on us—it’ll ruin the ransom!”

How thoughtful of them, worrying about their prized hostage becoming useless.

Unarmed, I continued advancing.

To these fools, it must have looked like I’d gone mad.

“You bastard!”

The first one to attack was a thug wielding a club about the length of my forearm.

Its end was wrapped with wires, giving it a menacing look that could easily tear flesh if it landed.

Just two weeks ago, I would’ve struggled to even follow its movement with my eyes. But not anymore.

The club, swung without any finesse or mana, seemed painfully slow—like it was buffering.

A simple and brutish downward strike aimed at my head.

With a slight sidestep, the attack harmlessly sliced through empty air.

“Huh?”

“Hey, idiot! What are you doing?!”

The boss of the group yelled, veins popping in his neck.

From his perspective, it must’ve looked like his guy was just flailing around at nothing.

“You little…!”

The thug, face flushed with embarrassment, raised his club for another swing.

Of course, I had no intention of just standing there waiting for him.

I balled my fist lightly, raising my middle finger to form a sharp point.

A simple flick—what’s often used as a playful gesture—but when done right, it can be a dangerous attack.

‘Right about here.’

I took half a step forward, just enough to get within reach, and brought my knuckle down onto his shoulder.

Crunch.

A sharp sound rang out as my strike hit a small bone protruding from his shoulder—the clavicle that connected his arm to his body.

It’s a tiny bone, barely the size of a pebble, but breaking it renders the arm useless.

And one more thing: it hurts. A lot.

“Aaaargh!!!”

With just a light tap to the shoulder, the thug shrieked like a newborn, rolling on the ground as if he’d been stabbed.

“What… What the hell?!”

The other bandits stared, unable to believe their eyes.

All I’d done was casually walk over and flick his shoulder.

Yet here he was, writhing in pain as if he’d been mortally wounded.

“Poral! Stop messing around and get up!”

“Arghhh…!”

I wish it were a joke, but it wasn’t.

Finally, the rest of them seemed to grasp the situation. Their eyes changed, realizing I wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

“Tch…”

“Anyone else want a flick?”

“A… flick?”

“I guess you don’t call it that here.”

“He’s not to be taken lightly! No mercy!”

“Got it!”

The thugs raised their weapons, though they were all in terrible condition—rusty and poorly maintained.

Clearly, they hadn’t taken care of these weapons. Most likely, they’d scavenged or stolen them from victims, much like they were trying to do now.

“Die!”

A moment ago, they were talking about my ransom; now, they were rushing in to kill me.

Their clumsy attacks came at me from all directions. Even with my improved strength, it would’ve been dangerous to just take those hits head-on.

I couldn’t block them with aura yet, after all.

So the answer was simple: just don’t get hit.

Whoosh!

The clumsy sword strikes, much like the first guy’s, only sliced through empty air.

“Huh?!”

Thrown off balance, one of the attackers left himself completely open.

I lightly brushed my fist against his chin.

Thunk.

Another satisfying sound echoed. I could’ve knocked him out cold with a full-force hit, but right now, I was focusing on regaining my precision.

By targeting pressure points and vital spots with sharp, deliberate strikes, I was slowly reawakening my dormant instincts.

“Ugh…”

Even with just a light tap to his chin, the thug crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.

His eyes rolled in different directions as his body collapsed to the ground.

…Thud!

One side of his face smacked the dirt with a heavy impact.

His brain must’ve felt scrambled, making it seem to him like the ground had punched him instead.

“Gasp!”

The remaining bandits, who moments ago were ready to kill me, began retreating, tails tucked between their legs.

It was far too late for that.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“W-wait! Let’s talk this out…!”

Thunk!

Talk? I only talk to people—not garbage.

As they tried to flee, I made sure to stop them.

With a couple more punches, I sent the rest of them sprawling to the ground, faces buried in the dirt.