Krusty, Tycoon Lord

by Mamare Touno

  “That ‘fairy curse’ thing is broken already, right?”

  Dumbfounded, Elias forgot both the pain and his fatigue and bolted upright, then protested through the awful pain that resulted: “That’s not true—!” …Even if most of the line only came out as a groan.

  “My HP went below 25 percent, and you kept chipping away at it.”

  Come to think of it, he might be able to say that the curse had partially eased.

  However, it wasn’t that simple. After all, Leonardo didn’t know anything.

  Even as he realized that the objection itself was an arrogant thought that patronized his comrade, Elias’s heart couldn’t stop trying to justify itself. Even he thought it cowardly and base, but his warped and nearly crushed soul seem to be looking for an escape route, and it was liable to cling to even these lame excuses.

  “With speed like that, I really couldn’t overtake you… I accomplished nothing!”

  For that reason, he couldn’t look Leonardo in the eyes; he averted his own gaze and shouted loudly.

  It was exactly the sort of deceptive attitude a cornered failure would take.

  “I see.”

  Leonardo didn’t seem bothered by Elias’s bluff.

  The light that shone in from some vague source was already the madder red that announced the end of the day, alerting them to the arrival of the indigo veil.

  In the cave that had lost the light and was slowly growing darker, illuminated by a strange glow like residual battle heat from their magic items, the two of them sat quietly.

  Elias didn’t know what he should do, and there was nothing he could say.

  “—And anyway, was that what you wanted, to kill somebody? You want to kill, so you want to get rid of the curse that keeps you from killing?”

  “…What?”

  As far as the words went, Elias understood Leonardo’s question, but he couldn’t quite grasp its meaning. He didn’t know what Leonardo was asking.

  Do I want to kill someone?

  Do I want to kill Leonardo, for example?

  No, not at all.

  I don’t think I do.

  In that case, why was I trying to rid myself of this curse?

  In order to protect my companions, and the people.

  Something had gotten oddly twisted.

  Managing to lean his upper body back against a boulder, Elias stared at the palms of his hands. They were bloodied and covered in wounds. The seemed unfamiliar to him, filthy like that.

  Even if someone had explained it to him, he wouldn’t have known what was going on. Possibly because of the lingering heat of the fight, he couldn’t figure out what Leonardo was trying to say. He was irritated by his clumsiness, but his whole body was exhausted, and it wouldn’t let him do as he pleased.

  “I’ve never met any, but do fairies do stuff like that? Why did they order you to do something like that? And anyway, is that actually a curse?”

  “Not…a curse?”

  Elias mulled the words over, slowly, and when he understood them, he looked at Leonardo as if he’d been stung.

  It was a possibility he’d never even considered.

  The fairy curse was a part of him. He’d felt as if it was a component he was used to and couldn’t cut away, and he hadn’t even been conscious of it.

  Then what in the world was this handicap?

  Was he saying that this thing, which had bound Elias and forced him to taste despair and loss, wasn’t a curse?

  “Right. Comic fans like me don’t call stuff like that curses. —It’s your oath, in solid form. Elias, it’s not that you can’t kill. I know that. You don’t want to kill anybody, no matter who they are, so you kept that oath inside you. It’s not just monsters. People of the Earth and Adventurers and Ancients, too.”

  Those weren’t words.

  The things that were issuing from Leonardo’s mouth were definitely not words.

  They were something from a higher dimension, something quiet, yet infused with immense energy.

  Without being conscious of it, Elias tensed up, eyes widening, and waited to hear what would come next.

  “Remember red-nosed Princess Rubience. That day, you should have been able to flatten all her mercenaries and make a run for it. There was enough of a strength difference for you to pull it off. But you chose to become a hostage, without fighting. Elias Hackblade didn’t fail to kill because he lost out to a curse. He didn’t want to kill, so he didn’t.”

  He was right.

  When had he lost sight of that?

  The remark pierced Elias like a divine revelation.

  He hadn’t wanted to kill.

  He’d chosen a path that was more difficult, rather than salvation gained by crushing someone and killing them.

  Hadn’t Elias studied fairy swordsmanship because he thought it held enough power to resolve situations without killing his opponent?

  What Elias found in Leonardo’s words were the tracks of his own resolve, the path he’d walked when he was young. He’d forgotten it entirely, had assumed it had never been there, but when he turned and looked, there it was, stretching from his own feet back into the past.

  The heat that flowed down through him made it impossible for him to raise his head.

  “I know that. I read your story…straight from you. That’s why I’ve got your back.”

  “Ahh… Ah, agh, ghk…”

  Before he knew it, Elias was crying.

  He sniffled pathetically.

  The “strongest Ancient” was sobbing openly.

  If that was true, then what an error he’d committed!

  If that was true, what a roundabout way he’d traveled!

  However, that remorse wasn’t like the torment that had plagued him up until a moment ago.

  It was a harsh, cutting pain, but it was the pain of the acceptance he needed in order to keep walking, making these footprints continue into the future.

  “What you’ve got there is a geas, a vow. It’s your power, which you got in order to accomplish something… It’s not a curse; don’t hate on yourself like that.”

  Dazzling light flooded from Elias’s left arm, becoming a spreading vortex of rainbow radiance. It plunged through the rock, soaked into the earth, healed the broken trees, healed the small, wounded mountain animals, then rose to the horizon of the sky, gazing up at the morning star in the lingering light.

  The curse had been a frail, fleeting thing.

  It had been more like a string made from twisted paper than an iron chain, something so fragile it could be destroyed just by doubting it.

  Elias had hated his shackles. He’d seen them as a curse that bound him—but that was precisely what had made them a curse. They had absorbed his envy and resentment, had grown endlessly obese, and had become a black blight.

  However, those shackles had also been a binding oath.

  Illuminated by Leonardo’s morning sun, the curdled darkness cleared.

  Seen in the light, it wasn’t a grudge that would hurt Elias.

  Just now, he’d been released from it.

  He’d retaken his vow, the pride he’d had all along.

  5

  By the time Krusty and Hua Diao reached that bright room, Kanami’s party was already assembled there.

  The room was in a neatly structured underground ruin that was all straight lines, surrounded by solid walls. It was a basement floor made up of halls and cramped corridors as far as the eye could see, stairways that folded back on themselves again and again, and dead ends piled with jumbled magical equipment made of metal.

  It’s the ruin of some sort of modern building. A broadcasting station?

  That was Krusty’s guess.

  If he recalled correctly, those were called dian shi tai in China.

  Guided by the sound of noisy voices, he headed deeper in and discovered Kanami, who was excitedly running her hands all over the ruin. Pulling an indigo-haired girl who looked like a maid around with her, she was knocking on the wall
s, investigating the desks, and putting a hand to her chin and striking poses in front of magic items.

  Elias, the guy who’d attacked Krusty, and a man in a green bodysuit were sitting by the wall, looking completely worn out.

  Those four must be the traveling group Kanami had told him about. He understood that, but the contrast between the two women’s gaiety (especially Kanami) and the exhaustion of the two men was so sharp it was brutal.

  Krusty concluded that not getting involved here was the right thing to do. Fortunately, he had another acquaintance in this big room who seemed likely to help him solve the mysteries of this situation.

  “Hey there. That was a hell of a thing to happen, wasn’t it?”

  “Master Zhu Huan!”

  Hua Diao jumped up to greet him. As she’d said, this wild-looking man was Zhu Huan. He was also one of Krusty’s few acquaintances on this server.

  “It’s been a long time, sir. How have you been? I’m afraid that Mount Lang Jun has been badly scarred…”

  “Yeah. I know. We helped fight the Nue.”

  “Eeeeeep! I’m terribly sorry; I wasn’t aware…”

  Hua Diao ducked her head over and over, looking awfully embarrassed. It was funny, and Krusty gave a low laugh, but her sharp eyes spotted him, and she sent him a protesting look.

  “Something’s happening outside the mountain as well, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it sure is… You seem different.”

  Krusty had spoken to deflect the conversation, but apparently, even the way he’d said it had struck Zhu Huan as a difference in tone. Krusty thought that, if all he knew was the version that had considered his time at the Bai Tao Shrine a vacation and been thoroughly idle, seeing him now, in full equipment, probably seemed strange.

  The commotion hadn’t died down.

  Kanami and the others had searched the area out of curiosity and were now tired and limp. Even now, though, he caught glimpses of several Adventurers who wore armor with the same design as Zhu Huan’s in the corridor, hunting down Moon Rabbits.

  Because none of the monsters that appeared were much of a threat as individuals, as long as they stayed calm and dealt with them, they weren’t much trouble at all. However, the density at which they’d appeared earlier had made them pretty dangerous.

  Krusty had asked his question because he’d picked up on the current situation, but apparently, the comment had been sharper than he’d thought.

  “Good call… It’s ugly out there. The mountain collapsed, and monsters flooded out. There was even a raid monster, and the lot from the Crimson King faction got wiped out. People from the town will probably be here soon. We thought it was the Ritual of Coronation, but it seems, that wasn’t all it was. What the hell is going on?”

  “I really couldn’t tell you.”

  As Zhu Huan spoke, his expression was dark, and Krusty shrugged. It was good to have information on the surrounding area, but he didn’t have any thoughts regarding it.

  He asked about the Ritual of Coronation. According to Hua Diao, it was a ritual by which heaven was informed of an earthly ruler. Apparently, the king who governed this area used the fairyland’s magical device to report that fact to Mount Kunlun.

  That information very nearly matched the Ritual of Coronation in Krusty’s knowledge of the classics. It was probably safe to assume it was generally accurate.

  In that case, Krusty chuckled, this was perfect.

  It meant he still had a path that led to the Queen Mother of the West.

  “Master Immortal…,” Hua Diao murmured.

  Her eyes swam anxiously.

  “Master Im— Master Krusty. Enchantress Youren is, um… She is an Enchantress, an Ancient, isn’t she?”

  She’d hesitated several times, then made up her mind before asking that question.

  The Enchantress is an Enchantress.

  Naturally. (That’s nothing but a tautology.)

  The answer is “Yes, that’s right.”

  Why would she ask that question?

  Hua Diao is a heavenly official.

  That means she’s subordinate to the Immortals.

  Fear of being punished for guilt by association?

  It’s possible.

  She’s still under the false impression that I am an Ancient.

  She’s anxious that I might undergo a change and start doing damage.

  Might I do that anyway, even if I don’t change?

  I might.

  Fear that she may be made to participate in some sort of crime.

  Like snitching food?

  She did that routinely.

  It’s become clear that I’m not an Ancient.

  Worry about losing her place of employment.

  She wasn’t paid wages, so wouldn’t that be rather odd?

  After—unusually—spending more than a few seconds thinking, Krusty looked down at Hua Diao again. Even if he didn’t mean anything by it, since there was a height difference of over a meter between them, he saw the whirl in her soft hair.

  Her gaze darted around restlessly, and her expression looked as if she was searching for an escape route, but her fists were clenched. Even if she didn’t look like it, Hua Diao held an elite position in her tribe. She’d probably thought she had to ask her question, even if she needed to stomp down her unease to do it.

  “From now on, call me ‘Krusty,’ please.”

  “Oh… Um, that’s… I mean, Mashter Krusty.”

  The girl’s bewilderment made her lisp, and Krusty averted his eyes.

  To rid her of that unease, he could explain the situation to her gently, but no matter how the chips fell, it wouldn’t change the reality, and it was probably healthier for her to come to terms with it. —That was what he thought, but the greatest part of the reason was that it would be a pain.

  If it came down to it, he could just put her in a good mood again with a dessert.

  Behind his elegant good looks, Krusty was thinking something quite rude. She was the one Misa Takayama had protected, so until the day he reported it to Misa herself and handed the duty over to her, he needed to do at least the bare minimum to take care of her.

  Would she be abandoned here on Mount Lang Jun? Would she be left without a master to serve, to degrade into a monster like the beasts of the field? Hua Diao was on the verge of tears over worries like these, but—intolerably, as far as she was concerned—Krusty came to a decision on his own, without explaining.

  He thought, if she said she was an attendant, she should probably stick with him until she was able to take care of him. He’d take her along.

  “…Ni hao. Bonjour, aloha. Moi! Also moikkaaa. ”

  As Kanami spoke, she gestured as if she was dancing.

  The magic device had abruptly come to life, and the voice that issued from it belonged to an utterly bewildered Shiroe. When he heard the voice, Krusty’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

  In the space of a moment, his mind was buried under a vast number of thoughts.

  Most of them were considering the possibility that these circumstances were a trap.

  Again and again, he performed calculations whose density was in a different dimension from what he’d run regarding Hua Diao a moment earlier. This was just too unnatural. In a battle he’d gotten involved in by sheer coincidence, an old friend with whom he’d reunited—by coincidence—had coincidentally activated a transmission device, which had coincidentally connected to another acquaintance. The odds of that happening had to be astronomical.

  As a result, Krusty wondered whether it might be some kind of plot. Was there something behind this?

  However, those doubts were shattered by one overheard remark from Shiroe.

  “Kanami, you wouldn’t be on the moon, would you?”

  The moon. Mount Kunlun.

  The casual question showed, more eloquently than anything, that Shiroe had also reached that answer.

  A low laugh escaped Krusty.

  In that case, this wasn’t incom
prehensible. Apparently, the goal, or an incredibly important guidepost that showed the goal, had the mark of the moon carved on it. If they walked toward the same place, they’d eventually meet. It probably meant that, instead of a coincidence, this route was the right answer.

  As far as Krusty knew, Shiroe had been working on issues with the Round Table Council’s financial affairs. The Crescent Moon League and Shopping District 8 had proposed and implemented several stopgap measures, but Shiroe had been running around laying the groundwork for a fundamental, nearly utopian operation.

  Form an alliance with the Kunie clan and control the Round Table Council’s spending by either suspending the zone leasing system or postponing the automatic funds collection. Put into words, that had been the gist of the project, but it was also true that no matter who heard it explained or how, they couldn’t help but see it as preposterous.

  If Shiroe had returned to Akiba and was leading a raid in combat, the plan had probably been realized. The overly serious young man had apparently pulled off another great achievement.

  Although I imagine he’s still in the shadows, acknowledged by no one.

  However, if Shiroe had pulled off those difficult negotiations and still had his sights set on the moon, there must be some sort of emergency in Akiba as well. They might have acquired some information that Krusty didn’t know. He wasn’t about to try to learn what it was by force.

  When he looked for it, the curse was still there in the transparent window, blinking.

  He’d softened its effects with his additions, but the curse itself was still alive and well. It was a fact that the Genius Bucaphi outranked Krusty, and the way she’d used the difference in their skills to give him that bad status had been a legitimate procedure. He’d only managed to alter a portion of its contents because he was even greedier than that level difference, and the Soul Darkening Curse itself was still alive. He probably wouldn’t be able to travel across the server boundary. He sensed he had the room to make a few more additions, but if he did it carelessly, he might not be able to cope with some future emergency.

  Kanami was wearing a radiant smile.

  The way she was mingling exaggerated gestures with her conversation was eloquent and attractive. However, even to Krusty, the content was so outlandish and daunting that she seemed to be skipping not rungs on a ladder but whole building floors.