Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

The setting sun reflected on the river’s surface, scattering like a thousand golden leaves across the sparkling water. The early autumn breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the first, crisp hint of a chill after the long, hot summer.

A chill that felt a little… murderous.

“Hmph. Listen up, little lady. Hand over your valuables if you know what’s good for you!”

On the path by the river, several burly, uncivilized men in crude animal-skin skirts had surrounded a delicate-looking young woman. Their expressions were ferocious, like a pack of starving wolves cornering a fawn.

The leader was a man with a massive, ugly scar that snaked across his face. He looked at the cute young woman before him, a wicked, predatory grin spreading across his lips. “If you’re a good girl and cooperate, we might not do anything to you. But if you’re not… heheh, then don’t blame us for being impolite.”

“I am an adventurer,” the surrounded young woman said, clutching the magic wand in her hand, her eyes showing not a single sign of submission. “If you try to rob me, have you truly thought about the consequences?”

“Haha, of course I can see you’re an adventurer,” the scarred man laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, as if her status meant less than nothing. “But you’re a mage, aren’t you? And from the fact that I can’t feel a single, pathetic wisp of battle aura on you, you’re a pure mage.”

“…” Seeing the young woman’s defiant silence, the scarred man’s grin grew even more arrogant. “If you had companions, even a single, useless meat shield who could only hold us off for a moment, we would have run as far away as we could. But you’re all alone. And a lone mage, no matter where you are, is always a juicy, delicious target.” His greedy gaze swept over the wand in her hand. “That wand alone must be worth a pretty penny.”

“…Damn it.” The young woman instinctively hid the wand behind her back and took a few steps back, trying her best to look fierce. “Robbing someone in broad daylight… aren’t you afraid of a passing hero of justice, here to smite you in the name of the heavens?”

“A hero of justice? Hahaha—”

The scarred man and his underlings exchanged a look and then burst into a fit of uproarious, gut-busting laughter.

“Is she really this naive?”

“Wh-what? Did I say something wrong?”

“Hmph. You’re dead wrong.” The scarred man shifted the massive, gleaming blade resting on his shoulder and laughed wildly. “Don’t you get it, beautiful? We’re professional bandits! Professional! Do you know what that means?”

“We make a detailed plan in advance!” shouted Bandit A, puffing out his chest.

“We clearly define our operational route and exfiltration strategy!” said Bandit B, striking a pose.

“We precisely identify and vet our target!” laughed Bandit C, pointing a thumb at himself.

“We ensure a one hundred percent success rate with zero mistakes!” declared Bandit D, his hands on his hips.

“That’s right, that’s right! This is what it means to be a professional!” The scarred man waved a hand grandly. “We’ve already scouted the entire area. Absolutely no one will be passing by. The ‘hero of justice’ you’re so desperately hoping for will not be making an appearance.”

“…” The young woman’s cheek twitched. It’s just a robbery. Why are they making it sound like some kind of high-IQ, corporate-level crime?

“But what if? What if there’s someone you didn’t notice?” she said, still clinging to a sliver of hope.

“What if? Haha, if you’re talking about ‘what ifs,’ then the only place we haven’t scouted is the bottom of this very river.” The scarred man winked, his expression a mask of theatrical exaggeration. “Are you trying to tell me that your hero of justice is going to come crawling out of the river? Hahaha, don’t make me laugh! Is your hero of justice a mermaid…?”

SPLASH!

The scarred man’s words were suddenly, and violently, cut off by the sound of a massive splash.

Under the golden, ethereal light of the setting sun, a blond man suddenly burst through the surface of the river like a vengeful water god. He slicked his short, golden hair back, revealing a devastatingly, almost illegally handsome face. Crystal-clear water droplets trickled down his well-defined pectoral muscles, sparkling like diamonds in the fading light.

“A… a merman!” shouted Bandit A, his eyes wide with shock and awe.

“Merman my ass!” The scarred man smacked Bandit A squarely on the back of the head. “Look closely, you idiot! That’s a man!”

“Oh, right.”

“I’m finally… free!”

On the river’s surface, the blond man suddenly threw his head back and spread his arms wide, as if to embrace the very sky.

“I’M FINALLY FREE!”

His voice was so full of raw, unrestrained joy that even from a distance, the scarred man and his crew could feel the pure, unadulterated elation radiating from him.

“What the hell?”

The blond man suddenly turned his gaze toward the group on the shore. His stare was so intense, so focused, that even the scarred man, who prided himself on being as unflappable as a mountain, felt a little unnerved.

He started swimming toward them. And as the water grew shallower, revealing more and more of his toned, athletic body, the group on the shore finally realized…

He was completely, utterly, and gloriously naked.

“B-boss,” stammered Bandit B, his voice trembling. “Don’t tell me we’ve run into a pervert.”

“It’s highly likely,” the scarred man said, his expression grim. If they had run into a pervert, and a pervert this handsome at that, he would have to slightly, and perhaps profitably, alter his plans. He glanced at the young woman. She was covering her beet-red face with both hands and shaking her head vigorously.

Good. It seems he’s not her ‘hero of justice.’

“Hello there.”

“And a good day to you too.”

The blond man walked ashore, completely unconcerned by his lack of clothing, and began to enthusiastically shake hands with every single one of them.

“Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it?”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“That’s a very nice outfit, brother. Very rustic.”

“Pardon me, but do you know where we are?”

“This is…” Looking at the overly friendly, and very naked, blond man, Bandit C couldn’t help but swallow nervously. “…the wilderness west of Belland.”

“West of Belland? Excellent. Looks like I’ve gotten far enough away. Anne shouldn’t be able to catch up to me now.”

“After all, to be safe, I floated in the river for a whole day and night.”

The blond man, who was, of course, Ewan, muttered to himself. After blinding Anne with his Light spell, he had jumped into the river and let the current carry him away. Unsure of just how ridiculously powerful Anne’s “Young Master sensor” was, he had hidden in the river for a full twenty-four hours, letting the water wash away all his scent and traces. Thankfully, after breaking through to the second rank, his new battle aura had protected him from the early autumn chill, and simply floating didn’t require much stamina.

Confirming that Anne couldn’t possibly be on his tail, he had found a calm spot to come ashore. Which was here. He just hadn’t expected to run into people right away.

And from the looks of it, it was a robbery in progress.

After a moment of thought, Ewan realized that the people he had just been so enthusiastically shaking hands with were a group of professional bandits.

What rotten, abysmal luck.

Time to get out of here.

He had no weapon, and he was outnumbered. Playing the hero was not a smart move.

“Haha, thanks for the directions, everyone! I’ll be on my way now!” Ewan said with a bright, charming smile, then turned and expertly, also very quickly, made his escape.

“Wait.”

He had only taken two steps when he heard the scarred man’s voice from behind him.

“Hm? Is there something you need, big brother?” Ewan turned back, a friendly, non-threatening smile plastered on his face.

“Hmph. Kid, you’ve already figured out what we do for a living, haven’t you? You think you can just walk away?” the scarred man sneered.

This is bad.

Ewan’s smile twitched. “Don’t worry,” he said sheepishly. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you…”

“What I mean is, we’re bandits. And when bandits run into people…” The scarred man stared intently at Ewan, his voice a low, predatory growl. “…it’s only natural that we rob them.”

“Rob me?”

Ewan’s expression was a picture of pure, unadulterated bewilderment.

He looked down at his own naked, dripping body, then back at the scarred man. “Are you serious?”

“Hehe. Who said I was after your money?” The scarred man licked the sharp, gleaming edge of his blade, his eyes burning with a hot, predatory light as he stared at Ewan’s physique. “I’m after your ass!”