Third day of Spring Break over Kaomagi Earth
“That’s all I know! I swear that’s all I know!”
Darc looked at the sorry excuse of an assassin working for some noble. Even the other assassins he’d interrogated were better than him.
He had only needed to cut off a finger of his and threaten to cut the next, and he spilled out everything, which somehow lasted for hours, his employer spilled unnecessary information to him. What an amateur. His old man would’ve done worse to him.
“What’s your name?”
“I said, what is your name!?”
Death comes to assassins who failed and this man was not prepared for that.
Darc rummaged his jacket and took out a brown leather notebook and a pen. He opened the book and wrote ‘Gustard Ryders’.
Another days work for the reaper of the court.
Fourth day of Spring Break over Kaomagi Earth
After handing over the bandit leader, who was unconscious, to the knights, Darc went to the remains of the battlefield.
Two bandits were killed by his dagger and five were brutally mangled by his stakes.
He inspected the bandit with his neck slashed. He found a metal plate with the name ‘Billy Rogers’. He then rummaged the other bandit he stabbed from the nape. Nothing that fives his identity.
He then addressed the five corpses full of holes.
First bandit, nothing.
Second bandit, another metal plate with the name ‘Phillip’. Were these bandits with plates adventurers?
Third bandit, a handkerchief roughly made with the ‘To Daddy’ on it. Great, he killed a loving father. He’ll try to inform his family if he obtained his identity.
Fourth bandit, nothing in particular.
Fifth bandit, only the remains of a metal plate. His stake must’ve destroyed it. He could only make the words ‘A’ and ‘n’. He’ll name him Andrew.
He pulled his leather notebook and wrote:
Bandit C who was a loving father
This was a bad day.
On a certain day long after the attempted coup was thwarted.
Darc stood in front of an overweight man in somewhat unkempt lavish clothing.
“W-Who are you?” The man asked.
“Your executioner, Doug von Dupont.”
“What? You, a filthy dark elf?”
A black stake shot out and stabbed Doug’s pancreas.
“You will pay for what you did to us ‘demi-humans’.”
“Ah… No! Forgive me! Don’t- Grah!”
Darc pulled out his notebook and crossed out the name ‘Doug von salt waters’.
He felt great.
Doug von SaltWaters