Chapter 12: Strength is Power

Well, I guess this settles my debt.

I stood face-to-face with a giant half again my height, vaguely thinking that to myself.

“I’ll go beat the crap outta that enemy for ya.”

“You sure about this, Monkey Mask? The Somi family’s got some real nasty folks. You don’t wanna take on a guy like Fugger the Hundred-Man Slayer head-on.”

“If it looks bad, I’ll run. If I can take him, I’ll crush him.”

Even as I cracked that joke, I had no intention of running from this “Fugger” guy.

After all, commoners weren’t supposed to stand a chance against noble mages. Magic’s just that overwhelming.

Besides, I actually planned to use physical enhancement magic this time.

I didn’t know how skilled the Somi family’s enforcer was, but there was no way he surpassed me in raw physical ability.

—Not that I was planning to let my guard down.

Honestly, I’d underestimated commoners. Figured that as long as I brute-forced it with strength, there was no way I’d lose to someone who couldn’t use magic.

But after training with Lev-chan today, I knew better.

She was strong. Even if I went all out against her now, I’d probably lose.

Heavy blows mean nothing if they don’t land. Power’s wasted if every attack leaves you open.

With my shallow experience, no matter how strong I was, I was still just a beginner in a board game—someone who started with too many powerful pieces. Against a lifelong professional who lived through combat? I’d lose.

So I wasn’t going to underestimate the guy in front of me. Even if he was weaker, I had no idea what kind of dirty tricks he might pull.

Remember Lev-chan’s lesson. Anticipate the enemy.

“Hey, monkey-mask guy.”

“…What?”

“Want a bite?”

Ssshh—without a word, the giant Fugger held something out to me.

A banana.

“......”

“......”

What’s this guy’s angle?

Bananas were complete food. Energy-dense enough that marathon runners used them before races.

But who offers something like that to the guy they’re about to fight?

Still… if he’s giving it to me, I might as well—

Wait.

If I ate that here, wouldn’t my face show through the gaps in the mask? Bananas needed a wide mouth, and opening up too far might shift the mask.

Damn. That’s dangerous. This was Fugger’s trap—a sneaky ploy to expose my face.

How underhanded…

“You think I’d fall for something that obvious?”

“Tch. Saw right through my poisoned banana, huh? Don’t look like much, but you’re sharper than I thought.”

“I see right through you. Don’t take me lightly.”

Oh, so it was poisoned? Good thing I didn’t eat it.

“Sorry, but lies and schemes don’t work on me.”

“So you’re not as dumb as you look, huh?”

For the record, I was a noble lady with elite education and strength training.

Of course I wasn’t dumb.

“Wait… are they seriously trying to have a battle of wits right now?”

“Damn, that’s terrifying. Never seen psychological warfare this low-level before…”

I could’ve sworn I heard commentary from the sidelines. Not that I deserved it.

“C’mon, Boss Fugger. Let’s just finish this.”

“Wasting time on this freak’s just lettin’ the real target get away. That’s what the monkey wants.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Apparently realizing deception wouldn’t work, Fugger cracked his knuckles and took a stance.

It looked like Lev-chan’s—at first.

But maybe because of the muscle difference, the balance was all wrong.

Lev-chan floated, shifting her center to mask movement. Fugger planted himself like a mountain, everything grounded under his core.

Hmm… I can’t read him at all.

“Die, monkey!!”

“Ghk—!?”

I’d been so focused on watching his movements (thanks, Lev-chan) that I was too slow to react.

With almost no wind-up, Fugger drove his foot into my gut.

“—Fast!”

Too fast. No time to dodge. Can’t even raise my hands.

And he wasn’t holding back. If he followed through, even I wouldn’t walk away unscathed.

“Drop dead.”

Assuming he could follow through.

—Thud. A dull sound.

His kick slammed into my stomach—then bounced off harmlessly.

“…Hmph.”

The abdomen was the most heavily armored part of the body.

Reinforced by muscle. Designed to take impact. Elastic and dense where it mattered.

For years, I’d trained by having my little sister drop iron balls on my abs. That sinking force had hardened me in ways even magic couldn’t replicate.

At this point, calling my stomach “steel” wasn’t even metaphor.

A hit like that? Try again in a hundred years.

Bad choice of target, Fugger.

“That all you got, ugly? My turn now.”

Still holding his leg to my gut, I grinned.

His eyes widened. Did he really think that’d finish me?

“Here’s your payback.”

Time to fix that arrogance.

Borrowing his own technique, I drove a stomp into his gut—centered, full force behind it.

“……Ugh. Who the hell are you?!”

“Quit dodgin’, ugly. Let’s see how strong you really are.”

Unfortunately, he dodged.

To someone like him, my attacks probably looked slow.

“No way…”

I’d thrown everything into that kick—no way to stop my momentum.

I crashed straight into a tree.

…Damn it.

“Boss… the tree—”

“The tree… It’s got a hole punched clean through it in the shape of a foot. How much force does it take to do that?!”

The tree had been hollowed clean in the shape of my foot, like a jelly-like tokoroten from my past life.

The poor tree I’d accidentally kicked let out a groaning, death-rattle creak before toppling over under its own weight.

A heavy thud echoed across the clearing. I felt kinda bad for the tree.

“…The hell’s with that freak strength? What are you?”

“Hahaha. Just your average, everyday monkey.”

My raw power clearly surpassed whatever Fugger had imagined. His smug grin froze into wide-eyed terror.

“You some kinda monster?!”

“Oh? Didn’t you know, punk? A monkey’s strength is twelve times that of an average human.”

“Huh?! Ain’t that gorillas?!”

Wait, was it? No, pretty sure it was monkeys.

“Point is, don’t underestimate nature. You’re proud of your grip strength, right? A monkey’s grip can hit 500 kg. You don’t stand a chance.”

“Nah, man, that’s gorillas again!”

“Kukuku. You should regret picking a fight with the forest’s wise sage—150 kg of pure muscle, clad in armor of sinew.”

“This guy’s hopeless! He only knows gorilla facts!”

The more he denied it, the more I started thinking… yeah, maybe it was gorillas.

Monkeys aren’t that jacked, right? Whatever—same family. Close enough.

“Doesn’t matter. Monkey, gorilla—let’s keep going, big guy.”

“This little runt’s gotta be a mage or somethin’. No way some shrimp’s stronger than me!”

“Who knows? If you won’t come at me, I’ll come at you!”

He was close to figuring me out. So I launched another kick—fast, clean, and meant to tear through him.

“Back off, you idiots! You’ll get caught in this!”

“Boss Fugger!”

…Damn, he’s good.

Even aimed straight at his vitals, every strike was dodged or deflected. He moved with a practiced, brutal grace.

“You’re good at dodging, big man. But you missed a few.”

“Guh…!”

“Pretty sure I cracked your left rib. And that elbow’s making a nasty sound.”

He couldn’t dodge everything. The aftershocks were piling up.

His clothes, too—ripped and hanging off him now. Honestly, he was starting to look weirdly… sexy.

Shit. If I didn’t end this soon, he’d be fighting in his birthday suit.

Nobody wants that.

“Just give up and fly away, Fugger!”

I needed to check on Sakura. Get back to the inn. Start packing. My long-term mission was the day after tomorrow.

────Thinking about all that useless crap made me swing wide.

“……Gotcha.”

“Ghk—?!”

Mid-roundhouse, full power, all momentum behind it—

Fugger caught my leg.

Then yanked me forward and slammed me into the ground.

“Ow—damn it!”

“You’ve got a lotta nerve, you little shit.”

He straddled me, pinning me to the dirt.

Oh crap.

“L-Let go!!”

“Oh-ho, still got some fight in ya? Hey, hold him down!”

“You got it, boss!”

No leverage. Arms trapped. No way to break free from this many bodies.

Goddamn it. I got careless. Right after Lev warned me not to underestimate street fighters, too.

“Alright, tough guy. I’m real proud of my grip strength—wanna see how it feels?”

“Ngh… stop! Ganging up is cheating!”

“Me? I love crushin’ human skulls in my hands…”

Fugger’s grin split wider, teeth bared in unhinged delight.

He grabbed my face.

Squeezed.

“Should I take the mask off first? Or just crush it with your head?”

“…You’re insane.”

“Hahahahaha! Insane? Aw, thanks! That’s high praise!”

The mask cracked under his fingers. The pressure climbed.

“I love watchin’ the moment someone dies from bein’ crushed.”

“Tch—!”

“The screams, the fear, the stupid look when their brains pop out—gets me every time.”

This wasn’t just dangerous. He was a full-blown psycho.

“Disgusting hobby. Your muscles are crying, wasting themselves on this.”

“Muscles, huh?”

“You didn’t train that body for this. There are better ways to use power—”

“BAHAHAHAHA!!”

Since I couldn’t overpower him, I tried reasoning.

Didn’t work. He just laughed—deep, real, entertained.

“My muscles are bein’ put to good use. Couldn’t be better.”

“…The hell’s that mean?”

“If anything, I trained for this. Fought tooth and nail, built this body so I could crush anyone who pissed me off, whenever I damn well pleased. That’s why I got strong.”

"……"

“Damn fine body I’ve got, too. Gotta thank my old man for the thick bones. Doesn’t matter who—if I feel like it, I’ll snap ‘em like twigs.”

“…You trained your body just for that?”

“‘Just’? There ain’t nothin’ better than watchin’ some bastard squirm before you kill ‘em.”

I stared up at him.

This man couldn’t be reasoned with. Couldn’t be spared.

Fugger was the kind of person who had to be stopped—permanently.

"Power shouldn’t be used like that. People like you shouldn’t have strength."

"Oh yeah? Who the hell decided that?"

……Time to end him. At the very least, I’ll make sure he never hurts anyone again.

"Listen up, psycho. When I trained my body, it started with a dialogue—with myself."

“The hell?”

"I confronted every single muscle fiber in my body, one by one."

This bastard treated muscle like a blunt weapon. A toy for slaughter.

No respect. No restraint.

"Hey, Fugger—I gave my muscles nicknames. Pectoralis as Mune-mi, quadriceps as Momo-ko, trapezius as Bo-chan..."

"……Huh?"

"I talked to them. Made promises. In return for their strength, I swore I’d never misuse it."

Unforgivable. I can’t let him live.

Someone like him doesn’t deserve power. Every fiber of my being is screaming to put him down.

"Fugger—have you ever listened to your muscles?"

"Wha—? No?!"

"Have you ever loved them? Ever truly thought about how to wield their strength?"

"L-Loved?! Muscles?!"

"Have you ever taken them on a date? Whispered sweet nothings to your biceps?"

"THE FUCK KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?!"

"You’re dating your deltoids now?!"

Enough.

There’s nothing left to say.

"Got it. Your muscles are just hollow props."

"By your standards, everyone’s hollow, dumbass!"

"Then I’ll prove it."

"Yo, this guy’s crazier than Boss!"

────No surrender. No way I’m losing to some muscle-deaf amateur.

"W-Whoa?! Boss! This guy’s—!"

"The hell?! Hold him down! DON’T LET HIM GO!"

"N-No good! His strength—!!"

I know I’m pushing myself too hard. But please—answer me.

Every muscle fiber in my body—lend me your strength.

"H-He’s moving! Can’t hold him!!"

"Boss, help us!"

"I am helping! Shit, what the hell is—"

I have to teach them.

What it really means to wield power.

────

"……I’ll show you true muscles."

Slowly, I rose.

Thugs still clinging to me, scrambling, desperate.

"Guh—! You cocky bastard! I’ll crush your skull!"

"I’ll crush your arms first."

Fugger panics, tightens his grip on my face—but too late.

I clamp down on his bicep. Snap. His humerus gives with a crack.

No more grip strength now.

"GYAAAAHHH?!"

"Shit, surround him! He’s dangerous!"

"Get the bows! Turn him into a pincushion!"

Fugger drops, clutching what’s left of his arm. His crew scatters like roaches.

Pathetic. No muscle discipline at all.

"Fugger. I’ll make sure you never crush another skull."

"Y-You damn monster! What is this power?!"

"The reward of listening to your muscles."

"Don’t fight this freak head-on! READY THE CROSSBOWS!"

Now—what’s the move?

Fugger’s wrecked. His goons are scrambling for ranged weapons.

Option 1: Ignore the bows. Finish him off. Sakura’s probably clear by now, but...

Option 2: Retreat. Risky leaving him alive—but if those arrows are poisoned, even a graze could drop me.

"FIRE! KILL THAT DAMN MONKEY!"

"Tch—"

Too late. First arrow’s already flying.

Can’t see—too dark!

I leap diagonally back. Arrows hiss through the air in a deadly chorus.

None hit. Pure luck. I couldn’t see a damn thing in this gloom.

"……"

Maybe I should retreat.

Yeah. Think. What did Lev-chan teach me? Never underestimate commoners.

And I just did. Sloppy. No more of that. Gotta be smart.

"Second volley, ready—"

"Not happenin’!!"

I slam my fist into the ground, hard.

Dust explodes on impact—thick, choking, blinding.

"Gh, what the—"

"Smokescreen! Shoot while you can still see!"

"Dammit, lost visual!"

Perfect. Time to vanish.

I bolt into the haze, veering opposite from the shop. Sakura’s probably long gone.

"Tch, the Monkey Mask’s getting away!"

"Don’t chase! If he’s running, let him! You don’t wanna tango with that freak head-on!"

From the voices behind me, sounds like they’re staying put.

Whew. Lucky me.

---

"Hey, Monkey. Over here."

"Ah, Master."

Still running, I spot my acquaintance—the brothel owner—waving me into an alley.

Oh hell yeah. He set up an escape route.

"Nice work. Thanks for that. Got a little dicey back there, but you held your own against that Fugger."

"Eh, just barely."

"But they’ll be combing every inch of the city now. Stay at our hideout tonight."

It’s the safest move, Master adds. He’s right—dragging Maika into this would be stupid.

And Karl’s probably at the inn, too.

"Got it. Lead the way."

"Yeah."

Might as well hole up till morning. Karl’s safety’s on the line. I follow Master.

"By the way, our hideout’s been compromised. Expect company soon."

"The hell?!"

"Be ready for a long fight."

That was way too ominous.

Oi, not funny. I’ve got a job the day after tomorrow—no way I’m getting stuck in a siege.

"Don’t care if we’re surrounded. I’ve got plans. I’m leaving tomorrow."

"No shot. Unless you plan to wipe ’em all out by dawn."

"Well… if Karl’s there, maybe? Supposed to be stupid strong, right?"

Never seen him fight, but they say he’s a beast—blessed by the goddess herself. If he’s in, we might just make it.

"That adventurer’s at the hideout, sleeping off a hangover."

"Don’t let him get too drunk. He’s a pain when he’s wasted."

"I know. Wasn’t me who poured it."

So Karl’s there.

"Anyway, thanks for the backup. Let’s grab a drink at the hideout."

"You got booze?"

"Hell yeah. Not just liquor—we’ve got weapons, food, supplies. Stocked for months. Unless they breach the walls, we’re solid."

"Y’all are waging a damn war."

A long turf war is the last thing we need. Not with a demon invasion looming.

If the city’s worn down from infighting, we’re screwed when the real fight starts.

"No way to settle this without bloodshed?"

"Doubt it. At this point, it’s pride vs. pride."

Terrible timing. Do we really need a showdown now—

———OOOON.

A guttural, inhuman roar shakes the night in Leuin.

"…Huh? The hell was that? An animal?"

"Never heard a growl like that. Some new wolf variant…?"

We exchange a glance, then frown.

That sound—it hit something deep. My spine’s ice. My chest’s pounding. Like my life’s on a countdown.

"…Wait, Master. What’d you say earlier?"

"Hah? About what?"

"The hideout. You said you prepped it for a long fight—how?"

A bad feeling creeps in.

Like something’s already gone horribly wrong.

"Nothin’ much. Just hauled in weapons and… food."

"———"

Food?

"GRRROOOOAAARRRGH!!!"

A second howl splits the dark.

A towering creature—meters tall—thrashes and leaps through the shadows.

"GROOORRGhh, URRRGGHHH!!!"

When we arrive, I witness it.

The so-called "hideout" Master led us to is already reduced to rubble, barely recognizable.

"Huh? …Huh?"

And around the creature—countless pools of blood, splattered like a grotesque painting.

"What… is this?"

The beast rages.

Its maw twists with glee, drooling thick, lukewarm crimson as it stands atop a mountain of corpses—the piled remains of the hideout’s residents.

"Wai—a demon? That’s—?"

It’s a hulking, fur-covered abomination.

A creature of impossible size.

Exactly as Lev-chan described.

A true monster—one that "famed dragon-slaying adventurers couldn’t lay a finger on."

"Lass? LAAAASSSS!!!"

Then, we notice.

Amid the mangled flesh heaped at the beast’s feet—the tattered remains of her dress, the one she wore tonight.

Sakura von Tendo’s fate… leaves little to the imagination.

"...GRRROOH?"

Hearing Master’s scream, the monster’s head snaps toward us.

Its face—like a sneering baboon’s—twists into a grin as it spots two new morsels.