Chapter 4

Dear Mother,

Your son was a fool. Blinded by greed and careless of his surroundings, he let his guard down and was slaughtered by demons.

I’m filled with regret. I’ll never be able to repay you as your son now. Your son is dead.

But please don’t worry. It’s all right. I don’t know why, but even though I died…

“…Oh! You’re awake, Miss Swordswoman!”

…I ended up being picked up by my best friend’s party, looking like a helpless little girl.

Haha… maybe it’s because I just woke up, but I can’t keep up with any of this.

“Oh, you’re finally awake. Good, good.”

“Mornin’. How’re you feelin’? Still hurtin’ anywhere?”

I woke up in an unfamiliar room and was led by the mage girl who called herself Mei down to the main hall.

What the hell is this oversized mansion?

“You collapsed outta nowhere, scared the crap outta me. This is my hideout. Welcome.”

“…Mind explaining what the hell is going on?”

“Daaahahaha!! Right, right, you must be totally confused. Long story short, you passed out, so we brought you here. Then Karin hit you with some healing magic.”

“I’m Karin, nice to meetcha!”

“…That research facility?”

“Turned to dust.”

“I see.”

So Rex blew that whole cave to hell? How? Is that something a regular swordsman can even do? Then again… if it’s Rex, maybe it’s not so far-fetched.

“You were out for a whole day, y’know. …Anyway, now we can finally ask your name.”

“Yeah, that. We had no idea what to call you, made things awkward.”

“Hold up, Rex, you went ahead and started calling her ‘Flatche’ all on your own, didn’t you?”

…Flatche?

“H-Hey Karin! Keep that to yourself! It wouldn’t feel great having a random name slapped on you, right?”

“I’ve been wondering—what exactly is a ‘Flatche’? Is that some swordsman jargon or something?”

“Nah, I’ve never heard that word before…”

Rex averted his eyes in every direction, visibly uncomfortable. Ah… got it now.

Flatche, huh. Sounds exactly like the kind of crude nickname this jerk would come up with.

He probably thought it was a dumb joke. Gave me a nice little insulting name, didn’t he? Well, coming up with a fake name was a hassle anyway. Guess I’ll take his little slang and run with it.

“Alright. I’ve died once already, so let’s call this a fresh start. From now on, I’ll go by the name Flatche.”

“Huh? You’re changing your name?”

“Yeah. It’s such a charming name, after all—Flatche.”

Hearing that, Rex broke out into a sweat. Of course he did. Must be pretty awkward having your nasty little nickname proudly adopted like that.

So then.

Why am I suddenly referring to myself as “watashi” and acting like I’m actually a girl?

…Because in that short time between waking up and being led to the hall by the mage girl, I was busy figuring out how I was going to play this.

My current situation is… delicate. A guy turned into a girl. No wonder Rex didn’t recognize me.

When Mei brought me a glass of water, I caught a glimpse of my reflection on the surface.

What I saw there barely resembled the old me.

Short, black hair that stopped at the neck. Sharp, intelligent-looking eyes. Pale, clear skin. A striking girl with a serious air and a strong-willed look in her eyes. Who the hell is this?

When I wiped myself down with the cloth Mei gave me, I took stock of my body. Sure enough, I was female. Small chest, wide hips—built for childbirth, as they say. Not bad for a swordswoman—low center of gravity makes balance easier.

There were faint scars all over my body, in places easy to overlook. Probably from whatever those bastards did to me. I don’t know the details yet, so I’ll put that aside for now.

Now then…

What would happen if Rex found out?

Just imagining it is terrifying.

『BAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I can’t!! I can’t! You lost, got captured, and turned into a girl!? That’s just too tragic!!』

No doubt about it. He’d never shut up about it until I dropped dead from the shame. That’s the kind of guy Rex is.

I can’t let him find out. No matter what, I have to keep this a secret. Which means I

“Everyone, from now on, just call me Flatche. A swordsman always keeps their word. I’ll be counting on you all.”

“Welcome aboard! Looks like Rex can finally start charging in like he wants now.”

“Until now, he’s had to hang back to protect the rest of us. We’ve been waiting for a second frontline fighter!”

“Lookin’ forward to working with ya, Flatche!!”

—I decided to pretend I’m a complete stranger to Rex. I’m just a female swordsman. I have no connection to who I used to be.

“Heh heh… My harem’s really starting to fill out.”

…Yeah, there’s no way this idiot is my best friend.

“By the way, Rex.”

“What?”

I stepped up to him, grinning as creepily as he was, and whispered in his ear:

“Sorry my chest is flat.”

“Ugh—so you did notice. Then why...?”

“Out of spite. Just imagine how disappointed those girls will be once they realize what the name actually means.”

Rex is the kind of pervert who fixates on women’s chests. The moment someone brings up something dirty, he’s already off rambling about boobs.

“This is your punishment. That’s what you get for being such an idiot.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Well, I don’t care about stuff like that, so it’s fine. But there are people who would be seriously hurt. So try not to do it again.”

“...I’ll keep that in mind.”

In short, my current body isn’t exactly what you’d call voluptuous. Rex probably named me Flatche to poke fun at that.

After hearing my icy warning, Rex shriveled up and started mumbling.

Honestly, I just wanted to feel superior to him in some way, even if only emotionally. Getting to scold him felt pretty damn good.

What a petty little human I am.

.

.

.

Now then. Rex led me to a room inside their hideout and told me I could use it as my personal quarters. It's way bigger than any room I’ve ever owned. Damn it, Rex. Must be nice, having a fancy place like this.

So, here I am—having cast off my past and ended up taking on the name Flatche, a beautiful girl against my will. From here on, I’ll cast aside all the ties that once bound me, and live as a lone swordswoman… a member of Rex’s party—

Yeah, not happening.

I’ve got a lead. I will return to my original form. No matter what, I’m going back to being a man. That’s final.

Jaliva, wasn’t it? That zombified sorceress. Thanks to her research, I was revived in a completely new body. That woman likely possesses the technology to construct entirely new bodies using human flesh as raw material.

In other words, if I defeat her and force her into servitude, I might be able to have her reconstruct my original body. I’ll have to make sure Rex doesn’t slice her in half the moment we find her.

Until then, I’ll live as just another swordswoman—Flatche. I won’t be able to see Natal or Mom for a while, but if I send them a letter, they won’t worry too much.

—And above all else, this whole ordeal has left me with one hell of a debt to the Demon King’s Army. I’ll pay them back a thousandfold for this humiliation. That much, I’ve sworn.

Now that I’ve got my long-term goal set, it’s time to deal with the more immediate problems.

Because I’ve turned into a woman, I can’t use any of the money, gear, or connections I’ve built up so far. If I walked into a bank looking like this and tried to withdraw from my accounts, I’d just get branded a con artist.

Which means I want to gear up, but I’ve got no money.

Well… I hate to say it, but I’ll have to rely on Rex for now. I’m going to be a member of his party, after all. He can spot me a little, and I doubt the gods will smite him for it.

Honestly, I still feel some resistance to the idea of teaming up with Rex again. But if we’re up against the power of the Demon King’s Army, sticking with him is the smart move. I’ve never met anyone stronger.

Besides, I don’t have the luxury of being picky with my options—not if I want to turn back into a man. I’ll swallow my pride, fight alongside him, and eventually track down and enslave Jaliva.

So I borrowed some casual clothes from Mei, the mage girl with a similar build to mine. First priority: a sword and some armor. Then other essentials—daily supplies, clothing, that kind of thing.

“Rex, I need to talk. I want to get some gear of my own. I still have that sword we took off the demons, but... it doesn’t quite sit right with me.”

“Yeah, figures. Stuff you nabbed off someone else never fits as well as your own. I’ll point you to a good shop later.”

“…It’s a bit hard to say, but… I’ve got no money. I mean, I had a decent stash before I got killed, but all my old gear and my wallet got taken by the demons…”

“Ah, so it’s a cash problem. No worries. I’m the one who invited you into the party—I’ll cover you. We’ll just pay for her gear out of the shared funds. That cool with everyone?”

“Fine by me. A swordswoman like Flatche is a good investment. Just make sure you earn your keep, okay?”

“I agree. …And it’s not like we’re short on money anyway. Most of it’s thanks to Lord Rex’s personal earnings.”

So Rex really is rich. Damn it. I had a decent savings account too, but nothing close to affording a place like this.

Well, makes sense. Rex is a big name now. Bet he gets all kinds of lucrative work thrown his way.

“Don’t hold back because of the price. Get the gear that feels right to you—no matter the cost. You know how crucial that is for a swordswoman, right?”

“They say a master doesn’t choose their weapon, but when two masters clash, the choice of weapon can make all the difference. I know that well.”

My old instructor at the dojo used to grumble about that all the time.

“If I’d had a better sword, I’d be this country’s Grand General right now”—he’d say that again and again. Must’ve really eaten at him.

He was a broke noble, and the one he dueled for the general’s position was from a royal cadet branch. Naturally, there was a huge gap in resources, and even in their duel, the quality of their gear was worlds apart.

And yet, my instructor fought the guy evenly. After clashing a hundred times, he managed to deflect the opponent’s sword in a brief opening and went to strike a finishing blow—only to realize something.

His own sword had shattered under the strain of their clash.

By the way, that same instructor once got the crap beaten out of him by a five-year-old Rex using a wooden sword. But to be fair, that one doesn’t count—the difference in ability was just ridiculous.

Come on. Wiping the floor with a future Grand General candidate at five? Something’s definitely wrong with Rex.

“Well, go ahead and buy whatever you want. Just know I’ll be working you hard to pay it off.”

“I owe you one.”

“Oh! In that case, I’ll take you to the shop!”

And so, I headed to a high-end weapon store I’d never even stepped foot in before, with Mei tagging along.

It’s someone else’s money. I’ll go wild with it, waste it shamelessly, and get myself the strongest gear around.

“…Are you really going to buy this?”

“It’s important for a swordswoman to choose the weapon that feels right.”

We were at the weapons store. After settling the bill, now decked out in brand-new gear, I stood proudly while Mei looked on with mild disbelief.

“Cheap leather armor, small and shabby gauntlets, a light but short and thin sword…”

“I don’t do well with heavy gear. Armor that assumes you’ll take a hit just slows you down. All I need is something that’ll deflect arrows at most.”

“Wouldn’t a longer, sturdier sword give you better reach? Lord Rex swings one as tall as he is.”

“That’s because Rex is freakish enough to move fast even in that gear. He’s the exception. Most adventurers go for shorter blades—they’re easier to use in tight quarters.”

I took the chance to wax poetic to Mei, who probably didn’t know much about swords, being a mage and all.

Ahh… what a glorious shopping trip. As expected of a high-end store, their selection was superb.

I don’t think I’ve ever had gear that fit me this well. This light, unassuming sword with a blade just over thirty centimeters? It feels like it was made just for me.

I can’t stop grinning…

“…Even after adding everything up, it didn’t cost as much as a single one of my robes…”

“Hm? What’s wrong, Mei?”

“Oh, um… Flatche, you’re surprisingly frugal…”

The mage standing beside me looked at me with an odd expression—likely because I was beaming from ear to ear.

Please. Don’t praise me like that.

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