Chapter 22:
First Aid and Low-Blow Kick
“I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY. Hurry up and kill me.” Having said this, Ginem Bari shut his mouth. He had awakened from his faint—his minor injuries had let him regain consciousness as quickly as I hoped—and I was interrogating him.
About half of the other spellcasters had remained conscious the whole time, and upon a quick check, none appeared to be deceased. This was no coincidence. I was continually amazed by Gol’s developing restraint and the expertise with which she delivered it. I had asked her not to kill anyone, and as such, there were precisely zero deaths. Even in a pitched battle, she had remembered I wanted these guys as witnesses to the crimes of the Paisley Company.
Or—wait a minute. Had Gol at last come to appreciate the sacred beauty of all life…? That would be wonderful! Ah, this bright epiphany was no doubt the result of my dutiful daily training.
In any case, it wasn’t that Gol had refrained from killing only because she feared my disappointment. No way, no how, not possible. My partner was always so kindhearted—if she learned to cherish all living things, she would be like unto a goddess of love. Then no one would call her rude names like “Goddess of Slaughter and Jealousy” or “Barbarian Queen.”
How should I put this…? I thought “Barbarian Queen” was the least appropriate name for her. Gun to my head, I might yield to “Barbarian Princess.” And actually, wasn’t this whole naming scheme kind of weird? What did they mean by “Queen”?
“Like, exactly which king is she married to anyway, am I right, Gol?” I asked her.
She had been pressed to my back for some time, as if someone had glued her there. The way she was frantically rubbing her cheek against me felt like a hug. She probably wasn’t listening to me at all.
Well, nothing I could do about it. Gol had feared I would die when that stone missile came hurtling at us, to the point that she’d nearly killed the crossbow golem in her fraught state. She had lost herself to terror over my well-being; I had once again made her worry too much. Therefore, I would let her rub all she wanted until her heart settled. After all, an owner is responsible for taking care of their partner’s emotional and mental health.
So Gol was still stuck to my back as I crouched down and grabbed the collar of Ginem Bari’s robe.
It seemed that Ginem still couldn’t move his body very well, but I grabbed his collar to ensure he couldn’t run, just in case. I had no intention of intimidating him. I simply had no other option, as I didn’t have any handcuffs or rope.
Naturally, I would conduct my interrogation with words and words alone. I didn’t know the laws of this world, but I hoped brutality wasn’t the standard of legal questioning. As a proud, cultured man, I would never stoop to something as inhumane as torture. Humans are perfectly capable of having a reasoned discussion without relying on violence.
If humanity descended into an endless cycle of throwing axes at fired arrows, we would have no future. My gentlemanly pride demanded I prove right now that reasoned discussion could always overcome brutish tactics.
Ginem’s narrow eyes concealed his emotions. “I did the best I could with all the power I held, and I lost. As a golem wielder, I no longer have a reason to live, nor reason to talk. Hurry up and kill me.”
It was like he wanted to cut my cultured heart off at the pass.
“Wait, listen, I hear what you’re saying, but…I don’t really have any plans to kill you or anything. Can’t we just talk?” I asked.
“…”
No reaction, huh? Welp, I give up. Unless he talks of his own free will, there’s nothing I can do.
Ginem Bari might have held his silence out of professionalism. However, he was a professional criminal, and when it came to criminal activity, I didn’t care if he was a pro or just a bastard.
“If you don’t talk, I’ll just have to make one of your injured comrades talk for you.” I casually glanced about.
Said tattered comrades were all severely wounded. Furthermore, unlike Ginem Bari, they were all, for some reason, terrified of me. The moment our eyes met, their teeth chattered, and some even trembled, their faces pale.
Ugh, this civil conversation just got harder…
“What should I do? This is hopeless,” I muttered sadly, eyes downcast.
At that moment, Ginem Bari suddenly screamed. “A-a-ah! Auuughhhh!”
“Huh?!”
I almost let go of his collar in surprise. However, I had learned my lesson. When the leader of those punks in Tibar had begun to scream and cry, I had been startled and let go. Because of that, he escaped. As a result, I had missed my chance to have a discussion—one which could have prevented this whole fiasco.
Therefore, I couldn’t let go. I tightened my grip on Ginem’s collar and drew close to his sobbing face. “Don’t go wailing like that. I’m not letting you go. Absolutely not. So let’s have a discussion.”
“Agh, guh. Such torture—ergh, A-A-AHHHH!”
Ginem Bari’s heart-wrenching screams froze everyone in place—not least of all me. The defeated spellcasters stared at me in complete fear and despair, as if they beheld some kind of demon.
Wh-what’s with them…?
Although I was shocked, this was Ginem’s second round of screaming, so it lacked the impact of the first. It was no use! He couldn’t startle me again. I was a man who learned from his mistakes. This time, I wouldn’t lose my chance to talk things out like some kind of incompetent.
Newly resolved, I once again tightened my grip on Ginem’s collar. “If we have to, we’ll keep at this all day and all night. You got it? So let’s talk.”
“E-e-eeee! Eek! I-I g-g-got it! I’ll talk. I’ll talk, all right?! So please, stop!”