Chapter 6 : Planning (Part 2)

After the surprise bomb that Lynda dropped on me, I went to a clothing store to buy a ready-made suit that would fit my size.

Accompanying me was Emilia, along with fifteen soldiers—six guarding the entrance of the store and nine inside, keeping watch over me and Emilia.

"Will there be a suit with my exact measurements here?" I asked after one of the staff members finished measuring my body. For some reason, I had been told to go bare-chested—it was supposedly to get the most accurate measurements.

Even so, I still held onto my gun, with a full cartridge tucked into the back pocket of my jeans. Another was still in my oversized hoodie, which Emilia was holding.

"Of course, you will, mister," the shop owner said. She was a stunning blonde woman with striking yellow eyes—though still not as beautiful as Lynda.

"What should I call you? Can I have your name, please? It would be rude to just call you 'mister.'"

"My name is Sitri Navex," I replied.

"Sitri... okay, Mister Sitri."

"That's great..."

I took my hoodie from Emilia and slipped it back on.

"You know, Mister, you've got a nice, well-toned body," the owner remarked with a playful smile.

"Thank you, took some effort," I said casually.

"So, if you don't mind me asking—are you single?"

"Huh? Why do you ask that?"

"Just curious..." she said, her smile not fading.

"Ah, sorry," I said, smirking. "I like her."

I pointed at Emilia.

Her face immediately turned red, and I couldn't help but enjoy the sight—it was my little way of getting back at her for punching me.

"That's sad. I wish I had a man like you," the shop owner said, her face dropping slightly.

"Well, if I'm still alive and single by then, we can talk about it," I replied with a smirk.

"I hope so."

She then handed me the suit—a sleek black one. With that, we left the store and walked down the road. The citizens turned their heads, eyes lingering on me in particular. Not that I cared.

"Hey, about what you said in the store," Emilia spoke up.

"Yes? What about it?" I asked.

"Do you actually like me, or was that just your way of getting back at me for punching you in the face?"

I glanced at her, noticing the slight hesitation in her voice.

"Well, I won't answer that directly," I said, grinning. "But I will say this—you're very pretty. Only a fool would reject your hand in marriage."

She stiffened slightly, realizing exactly what I was referencing—her childhood friend, Harry Calwin. The same Harry whose fate I had already made clear.

And in case anyone forgot, this was the same guy Emilia burned in a furnace just because he decided he wouldn't marry her when they grew up.

"Well... you certainly have a way with words," Emilia muttered. "Opening wounds I don't want to reopen—without even directly saying it."

"Nah, I'm just telling the truth. If I could, I would've married you myself. Shame that's not possible," I said casually.

Just then, my eyes caught movement in a nearby alley.

"Stop."

Everyone froze immediately.

"What happened?" Emilia asked, following my gaze.

"Look… there."

Deeper in the alley, three figures stood. An old man in black robes with stark white hair and a wrinkled face, alongside two younger people—a man and a woman in plain clothing.

"They're rebels."

"What... Rebels?"

"Yes. The old man is the head of trade for the rebels. The other two are his son and daughter-in-law."

"We need to capture them now," Emilia said, her voice firm.

"Yes, but if we charge in like this, they'll escape through the other side," I pointed out.

"So what's the plan?"

"This is the plan..."

I pulled out two bullets from my remaining four in the current cartridge. Taking careful aim, I fired. One bullet struck the son in the spine, the other hit the daughter-in-law in the same spot. Both collapsed instantly.

The old man's eyes widened in horror, and he turned to flee. But I was faster. The next two bullets tore through his knees, sending him crashing to the ground with a scream.

"They're alive," I said, lowering my gun. "Wrap their wounds and remove the bullets. The old man will be a cripple, while the other two will be paralyzed. You can get them medical attention immediately so they don't die from blood loss or infection. Though, a high-level healer might be able to fully restore them."

"Got it! Take them!" Emilia commanded. Soldiers rushed forward to secure the captives.

She turned back to me as I reloaded.

"You know… perhaps everyone in the army should have a weapon like yours. It would certainly boost our strength."

"That's true," I admitted. "But I doubt any of your blacksmiths could replicate the weapon I'm wielding. I need to find another way to protect myself—I can only fire eighteen more times."

"How about learning magic?" Emilia suggested.

I raised an eyebrow. "Would the queen be fine with that?"

"Yeah, of course. It was her idea in the first place," she replied casually.

My eyes widened. "She really said that?"

"Yes. She wants you to learn magic so you can protect yourself—to some extent, at least—if the rebels ever manage to get to you."

"I see..." I muttered, thinking it over.

What was Lynda thinking? What kind of thoughts were running through her mind?

First, she wanted me to dance with her. Now, she was allowing me to learn magic to protect myself—even though she planned to kill me later.

"You... you..."

A strained voice interrupted my thoughts. It was the old man, glaring at me as the soldiers dragged him forward, his arms restrained.

"Yes? What?" I asked.

"You will pay for this. My comrades will make you pa—"

Before he could finish, Emilia struck him across the face, knocking him out cold.

"He talks too much," she muttered.

"True," I agreed.

"Let's see if he has as much to say when we interrogate him," she added with a smirk.