Chapter 86: Blackwood Gang

Inside the Blackwood Bandit Gang's stronghold, the walls were made from weak but tall bamboo, arranged in a haphazard yet imposing manner.

The structure, though appearing flimsy, had a certain rugged charm that spoke of the rough lives led within its confines. Beyond the bamboo walls, numerous huts and tents were scattered around, each showing signs of wear and tear.

Some were patched with mismatched fabrics, while others had smoke curling up from small cooking fires.

At the heart of this chaotic encampment stood the largest tent, a makeshift palace of sorts, adorned with animal skins and crude decorations.

Inside, a burly dark man of imposing stature lounged on a throne-like chair made from carved wood and bones. Standing at an impressive 2.5 meters in height, his muscles bulged beneath a scarred, bare chest that spoke of countless battles.

He wore a tiger hide draped over his broad shoulders, adding to his ferocious appearance. His face was rugged, with a beard that added to his intimidating aura.

In each of his powerful arms, a beautiful woman was nestled, both adorned in scant, flowing garments.

The man drank deeply from a large mug, filled to the brim with strong, potent alcohol. He was none other than the leader of the Blackwood Bandit Gang, known for his ruthlessness and strength.

Standing beside him was a middle-aged man, lean and sharp-eyed, holding a paper in his hand. He wore simple but clean clothing, a stark contrast to the leader's rough attire.

This man was the deputy leader, responsible for managing the gang's logistics and finances. His demeanor was calm and collected, a man used to dealing with details and figures.

"My Lord," the deputy began, scanning the paper, "our recent earnings have seen a slight decline. The loot from the northern pass was substantial, but we've had fewer merchants traveling that route lately."

The leader grunted, disinterested. He took another swig from his mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I don't care about numbers, Jiro. You handle it."

Jiro, the deputy leader, didn't stop. He continued to read from the paper, his voice steady. "Additionally, our expenses have increased. The repairs on the southern fortifications were costly, and we've had to spend more on food and supplies due to the recent increase in recruits."

The leader's face darkened with boredom. With a swift motion, he hurled his mug across the tent, smashing it against the wall.

The two women in his arms flinched, but he held them tighter. "I said I don't care, Jiro! You deal with the damn accounts."

Unfazed, Jiro continued. "We also need to consider the maintenance of our weapons. The blacksmith reported that many swords and spears are in dire need of repair."

The leader growled in frustration. "Enough! Just fix it. Do whatever you have to. I don't want to hear about it."

Jiro finally stopped speaking and gave a small nod. "As you wish, my Lord."

A short while later, Jiro exited the tent, shaking his head slightly. As he walked away, a bandit guard hurried up to him, his face flushed with urgency.

"Sir, we have a situation," the guard panted.

Jiro raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Five of our teams in the mountains have been compromised. We've lost contact with them."

Jiro's expression remained calm, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "Is that so? And who do we think is responsible for this daring act?"

The guard hesitated, then replied, "We're not sure yet, sir. It could be another gang or perhaps some overzealous adventurers."

Jiro nodded slowly, considering the possibilities. "Send an elite team to investigate. Make sure they're led by a limiter. We can't afford to let this go unpunished."

"Yes, sir," the guard replied, saluting before hurrying off to carry out the order.

Jiro watched him go, his mind already working on the next steps. He turned and looked back at the largest tent, where the sounds of the leader's laughter and the clinking of mugs could be heard.

With a sigh, he returned to his duties, ensuring that the stronghold ran smoothly despite the recent disturbances.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows over the foot of Blackwood Mountain, Ruchir, Garret, and Alice sat around their makeshift camp, brainstorming yet another plan to infiltrate the bandits' stronghold. The failures of the previous day lingered in their minds, but they were determined to succeed this time.

Garret leaned back, a mischievous grin on his face. "Okay, how about this: I dress up as a ghost and scare them all away! Boo! Hilarious, right?"

Alice rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Garret, we've been through this. We're trying to infiltrate, not put on a comedy show."

Ruchir, scribbling notes furiously, added, "We need something that will actually work. Let's stay focused."

Alice pondered, her brow furrowing. "Maybe we could set a trap along the main path, something to lure them out and then ambush them."

Garret snickered. "What, like a giant pie in the face? Classic."

Before Alice could retort, they heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. They exchanged wary glances and quickly hid behind a dense thicket of bushes, peering out to see what was coming.

To their surprise, a group of twenty burly bandits appeared, marching purposefully as if searching for something.

They wore rough, mismatched clothing and carried an assortment of weapons, ranging from clubs to rusty swords.

Leading them was a man of imposing stature, clearly a 2nd Limiter, his hand resting confidently on the hilt of a saber.

Garret whispered, "Looks like they're onto us because of the disappearing bandits. How about we just play dead?"

Alice, ignoring Garret's suggestion, observed the leader. "That guy is definitely a 2nd Limiter. This won't be easy."

Ruchir motioned for them to come closer and whispered his plan into their ears. Garret's eyes lit up with excitement, while Alice raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Are we really doing this?" Alice asked, doubt creeping into her voice.

Garret, however, was thrilled. "Oh, this is going to be great! I finally get the starring role!"

Garret then sprang into action, taking a few moments to gather props from their camp.

He donned a set of exaggeratedly fancy clothes they had packed for emergencies, complete with a top hat and monocle. He looked utterly ridiculous but utterly committed.

The bandits, still searching, suddenly heard a high-pitched scream. Garret stumbled into view, flailing his arms dramatically. "Oh no! Help! Help! I'm a wealthy merchant, lost in these terrible woods!"

The bandits turned to see the absurd figure of Garret, who continued his exaggerated performance. "Please, kind sirs, I am but a humble traveler, beset by bandits and wolves! Save me!"

The bandits exchanged bewildered glances. The leader stepped forward, his saber gleaming. "What nonsense is this?"

Garret continued, unfazed. "I have gold! Lots of gold! But only if you protect me and lead me to safety!"

The mention of gold caught the bandits' attention. They surrounded Garret, curious and suspicious. As they closed in, Garret subtly winked at the bushes where Ruchir and Alice were hidden.

Ruchir and Alice sprang from their hiding place, launching a surprise attack. Alice, swift and precise, disarmed the nearest bandits with a series of rapid strikes. Ruchir, using his martial prowess, took on the leader directly.

Garret, not one to be left out, threw off his ridiculous attire and joined the fray, wielding a pair of daggers with surprising skill.

His comedic antics were replaced with deadly seriousness as he slashed at the bandits, adding an element of unpredictability to the fight.

The leader, taken aback by the sudden onslaught, struggled to keep up with Ruchir's relentless attacks. He swung his saber wildly, but Ruchir's precise movements and strategic strikes soon wore him down.

Meanwhile, Garret's unpredictable fighting style left the bandits confused and off-balance. He dodged and weaved, taunting them with playful jabs. "Come on, lads, you can do better than that! What's the matter, too scared of a little humor?"

Alice, moving with grace and precision, incapacitated the bandits one by one, ensuring they were unable to regroup. Within minutes, the majority of the bandits lay defeated, groaning on the ground.

Ruchir finally disarmed the leader with a swift kick, sending his saber flying. The leader fell to his knees, panting and beaten. Garret, ever the showman, struck a dramatic pose. "And that, my friends, is how you outwit a band of bandits!"

Alice rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Garret, you're impossible."

They bound the surviving bandits, including the leader, and left them tied to a tree. Garret, still riding the high of their victory, continued to boast. "Did you see that? I turned vicious criminals into quivering messes. I should be a hero!"

Alice kicked him lightly. "Our goal was to be captured, remember? Not scare them off."

Garret shrugged, grinning. "Details, details. We still won, didn't we?"

Ruchir, smiling despite himself, nodded. "Yes, we did. Thanks to all of us."

As the trio prepared to move on, Ruchir couldn't help but feel grateful for his friends. Despite the comedic mishaps and the unexpected twists, they had managed to come out on top, their bond stronger than ever.