Chapter 8

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The Gods' Subscriber Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Try and See

“Gasp. Choke.”

The man, foaming at the mouth, fell to the ground, clutching his chest.

He seemed to be in great pain, waving his hands wildly around.

“S-Save… Save me, please!”

“You should have listened. If you had paid the protection fee earlier, it would have been much better.”

In front of them were five people, their bodies tightly bound.

One of them was already on the brink of death from poisoning.

“I, I did pay! We also have our limits, you know!”

“Even a dry mop can wring out some water. Can’t you do more? Do you think we dig the ground for a living? We train hard to protect you from the bad guys outside.”

At this, the other thugs in the back alley began to laugh.

The people tied up here were once merchants.

“So you can’t pay?”

The biggest man among them spoke. He seemed to be the leader of this gang.

One of the bound merchants pleaded desperately.

“Give us a little more time. Please.”

“Do you think we have all the time in the world? There’s no choice. We’ll have to make an example. What are you waiting for? Feed them.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Trash! What did we do wrong? You just bully us with your meager strength! We’ve already increased the money we pay. If this continues, we won’t have anything left to pay you or even to live on.”

“Your courage is commendable.”

The big man laughed.

“You need to understand the situation.”

“That’s what I’m saying. If you want to make money, you should make us want to pay, not just bully us!”

“Hmm.”

The big man called one of his subordinates.

“Go to his family. Kill them all.”

“Yes.”

At this, the merchant’s expression hardened. Then, with a pale face, he shouted.

“Y-You… Bastard! Just try it!”

“You’re letting your emotions get the better of you. You’re not in a position to do that. You need to understand the situation, like I said.”

The man approached and slapped the merchant.

Smack! Smack! Blood splattered with each slap.

“S-Stop!”

Despite this, he continued to punch, only stopping when the merchant fainted.

He shook his hands and looked around at the merchants.

“Did I go too easy on you? You don’t seem to understand the situation.”

The merchants, who had been complaining just a moment ago, were now silent.

“Now, your faces look a bit better. Your lives and deaths are decided by my words. Trash. Bring the money, or this will happen.”

It was as if he was talking about money he had entrusted to them.

Many wanted to say something, but they kept quiet, fearing they would end up like the merchant.

At that moment, there was a commotion outside.

Bang!

The door was smashed open, and a man who looked quite frail entered.

“Huff.”

He was breathing heavily, his face flushed. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked completely exhausted.

Behind him, a knight entered.

The knight, with a very surprised look, glanced at the frail man and then at the gang inside.

There were more of them than he had expected.

“Sir.”

“I’m fine.”

The frail man stepped forward.

The knight hesitated for a moment but then followed behind the man.

“What is it? You.”

“Huff.”

He took a deep breath and slowly looked around.

“It’s nothing much. I just came to do some good deeds.”

After entering the back alley, some of the thugs had heeded Eitan’s warning and left him alone. But there were always some stupid ones.

In the end, a fight broke out just before entering this building.

To survive here, he had to kill someone.

‘It’s inevitable.’

Now that this was reality, killing to survive was unavoidable.

He was already prepared for it.

But actually killing someone was a first.

His stomach churned, and he expected to be shaken, but fortunately, he wasn’t.

‘Thanks to my breathing. The hero’s breathing kept me steady.’

Hercules was a hero.

This breathing, the source of all his power, allowed him to perform at his best in any situation.

Of course, it also brought excitement and exhilaration.

Sudlen, seeing Eitan, judged that the talents the frail noble had not shown were immense.

This made him even more curious.

How strong is Eitan now?

“Came to do good deeds?”

At this, the thugs began to laugh.

Looking closely, he seemed to be a noble’s well-off son, given his attire and appearance.

And the frail look he had just shown.

“Oh, are you that frail noble?”

“It seems so, sir. But they said he couldn’t even walk. Maybe it was a false rumor.”

“Looks like he’s been taking good medicine. We have some medicine too. Want some? Hehe.”

“The guy behind him is a bodyguard, I guess! He’s so scared, being a bodyguard for a frail noble!?”

Sudlen put his hand on the hilt of his sword. He wanted to draw it, but he had made a promise with Eitan before entering.

He would not move unless it was a truly dangerous situation.

But he couldn’t just follow Eitan’s orders.

His primary mission was to protect Eitan’s life. If Eitan got hurt, he would have failed his mission.

As Sudlen kept his hand on the hilt, the man began to laugh.

“Seeing you walk around fearlessly, you must want to play hero! If you die like a hero, no one will doubt it. Right, guys?”

“Right!”

“I’ll take care of it, sir!”

One of the thugs, missing two front teeth, approached Eitan with a wide grin.

“Noble lord. They say nobles have blue blood. Did you think we would bow down to you just because you came here?”

He reached out to push Eitan’s shoulder.

Sudlen, watching, judged this as crossing the line.

Just as he was about to draw his sword,

Eitan easily dodged the thug’s hand, drew his sword, and cut him down.

It was a speed that was almost invisible.

“...!”

Sudlen was surprised by the speed, which was much faster than his own. It was a perfect draw and cut from the Whickers sword technique.

Swish!

The thug was cut in two and fell.

The room, filled with laughter, fell silent. The leader, a big man, lost his smile.

“I heard something interesting outside.”

Eitan smiled weakly.

“Now, my sword decides your lives. So just stay still. Whether you die peacefully or in pain is up to you.”

* * *

Squeak!

‘The sword is even faster.’

The leader and the other thugs attacked Eitan simultaneously.

Sudlen tried to intervene but Eitan gave him a look.

So Sudlen naturally took on the other thugs, leaving the leader to Eitan.

It should have been the other way around.

‘Will he be okay? Even if the young master is stronger than expected, the difference in experience is huge.’

These thugs had lived in the back alleys for a long time and had the ability to survive, even if they weren’t physically strong.

That’s why he had to be careful.

‘What!?’

Eitan, who was supposed to be at a disadvantage, was perfectly pressuring the leader.

He used the speed of the Whickers sword technique to limit the leader’s movements and took advantage of the gaps to inflict wounds.

‘He lacks strength, so he’s trying to accumulate damage to bring him down.’

But it could only last a few times. The opponent was a seasoned fighter and could turn the tide at any moment.

As if on cue, the big man pulled something from his coat and threw it. It was a powder, probably poison.

“I don’t know if a noble raised in a greenhouse understands what a fight is. A fight is about taking the other’s life by any means.”

The man threw the poison at Eitan.

For someone inexperienced, it would be impossible to react.

“Sir!”

Sudlen lunged forward in a hurry.

But something was off.

“Huh?”

Eitan swung his sword, creating a sword wind that sent the powder back.

“Choke. Choke. H-How…?”

“Why can’t you think? Poison is hard to use. It can be countered like this.”

Eitan smiled and swung his sword.

“Try and see. I.”

* * *

Piren’s merchant, Kron, thought he was going to die.

In the past, the back alley thugs and merchants had a mutual understanding.

The thugs would take a certain amount of protection money and deal with outsiders who bullied or harassed the merchants.

Since the lord didn’t always protect the merchants and sometimes even protected the outsiders, the merchants preferred to deal with the back alley thugs.

But things had changed recently.

The thugs’ demands for protection money had become absurdly high, and they not only bullied but also attacked merchants who resisted.

It was as if they had something up their sleeves.

‘It was poison.’

What they had was poison.

They seemed to be gathering funds to move to another place.

And his guess was correct. Why are bad premonitions always right?

One merchant who resisted was killed, and the others, including Kron, were trembling in fear.

With the thugs in numbers and using poison, there was no way to fight back.

Then, a frail-looking noble appeared.

Even if he was a noble’s son, these thugs were acting as if they had nothing to lose in Piren.

So he thought the noble would die.

The knight with him didn’t seem very strong.

But it was the thugs who ended up dead.

‘Unbelievable.’

He couldn’t see the sword techniques, but he could tell the gap was huge.

The thugs fell one by one without proper resistance.

But the noble seemed to be struggling more.

‘Is he pretending to be weak to catch them off guard?’

He thought he was really smart.

He heard that he was the eldest son of the Whickers family, and to show such skill at a young age!

“Thank you so much. I will never forget this.”

“Really, really, thank you. Thank you!”

Kron and everyone else shed tears of gratitude.

“It’s nothing.”

Cough, cough. Even the coughing was perfect.

To keep up the act of being frail until the end. He seemed to be a very deep person.