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Store in Danmachi: 45
🕑 Added 2023-06-02 15:48:40 +0000 UTCTitle: 11 Papers Why (2)
Whatever Jackal teaches to the kids occasionally is taught to him by life. His understanding of consequences stems from everything he’s faced in his previous life. He was weak and naive, quickly getting into a crime family without understanding he would be dried to his limits—he just wanted a full stomach at the time. But that’s not all. A crime family is bound to have traitors and some moral ‘fools’ who would get executed—the consequences of their actions. Jackal’s death, too, was a consequence of his choice.
And as strange as it sounds, he once saw one of the Family Head’s most promising ‘guns’ breaking into tears. The family head had gathered everyone to welcome the man after he successfully hunted a family with an infant, allowing Jackal to be present, too. The next thing he saw was the Family Head’s appreciative gaze turning scornful as he pulled his gun and executed the man on the spot under everyone’s presence!
And from that comes Jackal’s second rule of not crying unnecessarily. There have been a few instances in this life like Eina and Rose gifting him a compression suit to be worn under his armor, where his heart felt full to the point he feared he’d cry in front of them. Jackal won’t be a cunt stating tears and emotions are bad since he only felt like crying out of happiness, but he couldn’t bring himself to cry in front of them. Soma wins in this regard, but it was raining that night—so it might as well be raindrops.
The lesson of not being governed by fear despite fearing things was the last of the things Jackal learned before he was brutally executed on a chair.
Jackal’s third lesson is—Every man has a limit, crossing which can lead them to wild success or astounding failure.
Jackal believes limits are meant to be broken, but how one goes about breaking such limitations matters.
Any successful crime family is bound to have ambitious, hot-blooded men. And to keep standing, a successful crime family crushes any coup led by such men! Jackal witnessed the rise and fall of three such groups, allowing him to firmly understand the meaning of power—physically, mentally, and emotionally.
And Jackal could not have imagined meeting his limit in barely over a month in this new world.
He’d achieved quite a bit already in every sense of the manner. He’d banged a Goddess, gone on dates, destroyed a familia, created a successful business, made good friends, and unfortunately—better enemies.
And tonight, Jackal faces his limits with a crude gaze, unable to bring his surreptitiously quivering hand from continuing.
The Pole Pub’s interior is layered with eerie silence save for the slightly heavier breathing and choked sobs as Jackal’s right-hand drips with blood, a small bloodied knife in his hands. Aside from the waitress from earlier watching everything with a pale expression, the dozen non-combatant members and dancers in the pub look at Jackal with a note of fright in their eyes. It isn’t easy to frighten the simplest of Amazoness due to their inherent nature. The cloaked figure watches Jackal, their sharp gaze noticing his quivering grip over the knife’s handle with a slight relief in their eye.
“Hnngh!” Jonahs’ naked body trembles for the umpteenth time. His body lies on his pub’s floor with a pool of blood around his right leg, strips of flesh floating within. Nobody dares breathe a little louder. Jonahs’ right foot, under his knee, is stripped of his flesh and bandaged. The entire wrap is blood red. The naked terror in the man’s eyes as he whimpers with his underwear stuffed in his mouth and his hands tied cannot be described with words alone. The image of a Jackal’s cold, dazed face reflects in his eyes.
The sensation of his knife passing through the sinner’s lower leg is too distinct for Jackal to forget as he looks back.
This is his limit.
He’s killed before, taken limbs, and incapacitated many—but none was torture.
‘I… can’t become this.’
It’s not due to a lack of trying.
And for once, Jackal’s belief of every limitation existing to be surpassed comes into question.
“Call Jamil,” Jackal looks at one of the women with a pipe in her hands. “And the rest, collect everyone from around. Tell them this District will see the greatest source of Entertainment they’d ever witness.”
For once, Jackal lacks his usual uppity attitude. A chilling coldness laces his voice as only the cloaked figure observes a flash of Jackal’s gold-red eyes trying to invert before settling the same way they always have. Anyone else would miss it, but the figure has a thing for eyes due to their past, and they keep a note of interesting ones.
As if granted a pardon, every woman leaves the pub in a flurry, some of them finally sporting an excited look as they leave after a final glance in his direction.
“I suppose I should apologize,” Jackal looks at Jonahs again. His grip loosens around the knife as the weapon tumbles and falls into the pool of blood. He isn’t apologizing to Jonahs as he turns to look at the cloaked, bulky figure. “Right? I asked you to trust me, and I cannot even deliver what I promised.”
“Butcher’s only your nickname,” a horse voice replies from under the cloak. “Don’t take it seriously. Besides, I have a thing for eager fools who ask others to trust them on absolutely no basis only to deliver their promises, and I see that potential in you.”
“I couldn’t even skin him till his waist,” Jackal frowns, resisting the urge to touch this topic again, much less break his known limitations.
He doesn’t want to.
He can finally empathize with a few men having codes of living, and his’ are: Not letting fear cloud your judgment; And no Torture.
Jackal draws an ax from his frollet before bending and bringing the blade down on the man’s head, brutally splitting Jonahs’ skull as blood squirts on his face.
“Killing men’s always going to ruffle some feathers on the surface, but adventurers kill each other daily in the Dungeon or the forest outside Orario. And how do I put this? I’m glad you couldn’t stomach this shit.”
The cloaked figure brings the mug of ale in their hands closer to their lips.
“Killing men isn’t troublesome,” Jackal replies as he stands up, wiping blood off his face. “It’s the War Game.”
The cloaked figure goes silent.
“What?”
“You’re never going to tell which Familia you’re from?”
“Probably not,” Jackal walks to the figure before sitting in front of them and taking a sip from his mug. His stack of eleven letters not lowers to ten as a sheet of paper covers Jonahs’ split face, soaking blood.
“Do you think others would approve of your handiwork? This isn’t the same shit as Soma Familia, and unlike me, you have no mask.”
Jackal stares at the corpse, wondering what he can learn from his new Grimoire. But he knows going through such Grimoires is torture, too.
“I don’t know. And I’d rather think about the consequences after dealing with the shit on hand.”
The cloaked figure grunts with what seems like approval as they sit quietly.
On top of the stack of letters is a passage practically scrambled with boorish handwriting, signed by a name far too familiar with the Entertainment District—Phryne Jamil.
---
“Can you repeat that?”
Dim moonlight fails to illuminate a dark alleyway near Maria’s Orphanage, now occupied not only by Asfi but also the Takemikazuchi Familia, whom Jackal had hired this morning to stay during the night, or so he tried, as the Familia firmly rejected the notion of payment.
A hushed whisper replies the humored voice before the street falls silent. A figure slowly strolls out of the dark alley as the combination of moonlight and dim magic lamps finally reveal the attractive face under the hat—Hermes.
Amusement, admiration, and a respectable caution dance in his orange irides as he walks toward the orphanage again, stopping at the sight of his bespectacled captain.
“What did you find?” Questions Asfi as she adjusts her glasses.
“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” Hermes chuckles.
“Something related to our situation?” Questions a third, remarkably deeper voice. Hermes flinches but turns a second later to meet Takemikazuchi’s obsidian pupils as the God of Combat remains seated on a stool covered by bushes.
“You cannot play ninja when my Captain’s around,” Hermes chuckles. “What if you frighten my dear Asfi?”
“He was onto you before I came,” Asfi reveals calmly and nods in God’s direction.
“Oh, great! I guess I have another friend~! Haha!” Hermes laughs carefreely, walking toward the entrance of the Orphanage as Takemikazuchi raises an eyebrow at the obviousness of Hermes dodging his question.
“I heard tales about you in the Far East,” Takemikazuchi stands, interrupting Hermes’ steps with his voice. “One of the quickest Gods in existence reliving his myths by giving information the same wings his feet claim in Tenkai. In Gekai, you are nobody’s enemies. But you aren’t anybody’s ally either.”
“Ah!” Hermes shakes his head, correcting Takemikazuchi as he turns around. “I’m everyone’s ally.”
“It’s the same thing. In being everyone’s ally, you have hurt many. Some of them were your own, or so I heard.”
“Which existence has escaped death?” Hermes smiles, tipping his hat slightly. “Us Gods should be above all these facades.”
“We came to this realm to find and understand new things our otherwise Immortal Flesh was incapable of understanding,” Takemikazuchi walks past Hermes slowly. “In this realm, I have come to understand another aspect of life, kindness, and joy. I have known the warmth of my children’s smiles. I don’t expect you to empathize, Ally.” Takemikazuchi stops at the door, his tone turning softer as the expected threat, given the mood of their conversation, never arrives, hitting the nail at what Takemikazuchi means as he requests gently. “I hope your pursuit of excitement does not harm whom I find dear.”
Hermes’ smile freezes slightly as he stares at Takemikazuchi’s back before the perpetually dopamine-driven God groans under his breath and waves his hand dismissively.
“Why couldn’t you just stick to threats like the stuck-up Amaterasu? Fine,” as if a child whose fun had been ruined, Hermes thins his lips. “I hear the Entertainment District is bound to have a sleepless night, and not because of a new supply of products. A Butcher is inciting a rebellion~!”
Asfi and Takemikazuchi’s eyelids jump in surprise as Hermes chortles. “And it’s got everyone’s attention. Because guess what? Almost every Familia member visits the Entertainment District!”
Takemikazuchi nods slowly, opening the door.
“Are you not worried?” Hermes blinks.
“From what little I know of him and have come to appreciate about him—he understands and accepts the consequences of his actions. Turning to look Hermes in the eye, Takemikazuchi smiles slightly. “He’s like a few of us Deities this way.”
“Asfi~ Stay here and earn our discount! I’m going to have a good stroll!” Hermes grins, turning around abruptly as he leaves Asfi alone. A cloaked figure jumps out from a nearby alley, following and escorting Hermes casually.
“Why didn’t you tear Hermes a new one?” Asfi questions the God in front of her as Hermes leaves.
Takemikazuchi half-shrugs with his surroundings turning light-hearted. “One of the basic rules of combat—subvert your opponent’s expectations. We, Gods, try not to let our divine intellectuals control our mortal shells, allowing ourselves to be as moody if not moodier than humans.”
“It was all a ploy?” Asfi frowns.
“Fueled by my love for my children,” the God smiles. “A notion Hermes understands.”
Asfi sighs and shakes her head.
“I don’t think your trust in Jackal is apt, and mine in Hermes.”
“Then we understand each other more than words can describe,” Takemikazuchi chuckles softly as he enters the orphanage. “Please do me a favor. Tell everything’s alright to Martel-san. I don’t suppose it’s appropriate for me to knock on her doors this late. But she’s probably awake.”
“Your friend Jackal won’t have such issues,” Asfi scoffs, still holding a slight bitterness against Jackal’s general attitude.
“Well, I also don’t butcher Familias and incite mortal rebellion, amongst many other things,” he shrugs again, indifferent to Asfi’s temperament. “I suggest you ignore Jackal’s language and focus on the essence of his sentiment instead. He hasn’t lied to me since I met him, so he’s a nice guy to befriend.”
This catches Asfi by surprise.
---
“So, let me get this straight.” Finn looks over his table. His bedroom and office are only divided by a thin wall, allowing Bete to understand why the Familia’s Captain would attend to him in his nightwear.
“I was with that Lena chick,” Bete grunts. “Couldn’t even get past her doors when a few other whores came rushing in, gushing about that stupid fuck!” He scowls. “And now I’m out of a good snatch for the night.”
“Ever so respectful,” Riveria snorts from the sidelines, surprisingly ready and in decent clothes as if she didn’t plan to sleep in the first place.
“Gahahaha!” Gareth laughs from his couch in the distance. The sound of the old grandfather clock ticking in the office and the crackling fire from the marbled fireplace outmatched by the Dwarf's boisterous peal of laughter. “Cut the boy some slack. He can say whatever he likes about wanting to hook up with a strong chick, but this Lena lassy got his fangs close.”
“Oh, shove it,” Bete snorts. “Anyway, I thought you’d want to know with Loki and him hooking up.”
“Well,” Finn frowns, looking at Riveria. “What do you think?”
“I remember his magic from the Dungeon, but it won’t hold against the top adventurers in Ishtar Familia,” Riveria crosses her arms, her right thumb, and index cups her slender chin as serious thought reflects in her jade eyes.
“And you’re sure he tortured a man?” Riveria questions with apparent distaste.
“Dunno,” Bete slumps on a chair with a huff as he crosses his legs. “The few whores from earlier said the Butcher tortured some pub owner, Phryne’s lover, and now demands her to appear in front of him. I heard a few hushed whispers about disappointment, bandaged leg, and a split skull later.”
Finn and Gareth look at each other.
“Sounds like the runt didn’t get through with that,” the dwarf strokes his bushy beard. “Gotta say, I’m relieved. Torture brings nothing good.”
“Killing is the same,” Riveria retorts.
“We’re all killers,” Finn shakes his head.
“You’re taking Jackal’s side on this?” Riveria frowns.
“Just advocating facts,” Finn sighs and taps his desk. “To be honest, for all of Jackal’s ‘issues,’ his swift and possibly lasting impact on Ais is something I’ve noticed long ago. He draws her effortlessly. And it’s not the Gemlings.”
“Tch, it’s just Ais taking pity on that weak cunt,” Bete scoffs.
“Or it is Ais forming a bond of respect and trust with someone outside our Familia,” Finn notes.
“Outside?” Gareth snickers impishly. “I heard the runt went all the way into Loki.”
The remaining three scowl at once as Gareth laughs loudly again.
“The issue is, should we delay telling this to Loki?” Finn states, bringing his office to silence.
Naturally, they have their own worries about Jackal, but Riveria sighs soon enough.
“As much as it aches my tongue and mind, Gareth is right. Jackal isn’t a mere tenant to the Loki Familia, or rather, us, the top executives.”
“His pace of growth also makes him a beneficial ally to invest in,” Finn adds from his point of view.
“Ever the righteous hero, Braver,” Bete scorns with a smug smirk as he looks around the room. “I’m gonna go to my room now. Do what you will.”
As Bete leaves, Finn cracks a smile. “Says the ‘Hater,’ who could have disregarded the news and gone his way. You guys don’t need to worry about this. We all are too famous to move without creating a direct conflict with Ishtar Famila, and I don’t have to remind you two how these conflicts usually end.”
“Raids or a war game,” grunts Gareth.
“Indeed,” Riveria closes her eyes.
“Then it’s a good thing a Level 5 Captain owes me a favor, and should be on her duty, too,” Finn rolls his shoulder slightly.
“And what of Loki? And the rest? Tiona and Ais will raise a ruckus when the news gets out tomorrow.”
“I guess that’s where you should use the trauma you instilled in Ais, and put your fear in Tiona, too. I’ll handle Loki.”
“I didn’t traumatize Ais,” Riveria frowns.
“Yeah!” Gareth grins. “Not just Ais, but your best friend's eldest, too, right? Didn’t she get the trauma of learning Heirogylphs from you?”
The corner of Riveria’s lips twitches as she recalls a sweet brown-haired, green-eyed half-elf.
Before she can argue her case, Gareth questions, “What about me?”
“Sleep?” Finn inclines his head. Gareth was the first one Bete approached, so he was pulled into the situation.
“Cool.” Gareth leaves with a loud yawn.
“You should get some rest, too,” Finn looks at Riveria, who informs after a moment.
“I never told you how their training went this morning, right?”
Finn waits for Riveria to finish.
“Jackal’s body is far different than we imagined, Finn. He’s like a fusion of a Weretiger, a Boaz, and an Amazon. He shrugged off Tiona’s blows that would incapacitate a physically weaker Level 3 adventurer.”
“Weak Level 3 Adventurers are known to level up as quickly as possible, not bottoming out their status’ potential, so it’s nothing surprising. Weren’t we the same?” Finn smiles.
“None of us did that in a month,” Riveria replies, turning around. “Loki once told me she wouldn’t invite Jackal in the Familia even after the year-long restriction on Falna abolishes, saying he’d devour our Familia in time. Keep that in mind.”
“So, you don’t want him to live?” Finn questions knowingly.
Riveria looks back, revealing her fears, “I don’t want us devoured.”
Maybe it is because of Finn’s confidence or his lack of personal interactions with Jackal—he smiles confidently and nods.
“Of course.”
***
Alternate Title: The Devil Lies Beyond Limitations; A Man is as Dangerous as His Limits; Jackal’s First Teacher—Hunger; His Second Teacher—Trauma; His Best Teacher—Roberta; What Lies Beyond The Limits; Somethings Should Be Kept In The Dark; The Cloaked Figure’s Penchant For Reckless But Trustworthy Guys, Hidden Backstory Perhaps?; Bring Jamil To Me!; Excitement and Fear; Wildfire of a News; Takemikazuchi Wingmanning Even Now!; Subverting Expectations Like a Bro!; Hermes One True Opponent—Politeness; Hermes Give You Wings!; Divine Bull—Gives You Wings; Bete Misses Out On Some Fun, Tch!; *Angry Tsundere Werewolf Noises!*; Lena Got That Snatch; Bete’s a ‘Reluctant’ Unpaid Return Customer; Jackal’s Lasting Impact; *Morgan Freeman Voice* Contrary to Finn’s Expectations—It Was All Due to Gemlings and Bento; Better Than The Butcher—Bento Daddy Jackal!; Gareth’s The True Chad of the Familia; Riveria Traumatizing Children Since Her Late 80s; It’s Not Trauma If No Children Reports To Authorities!; Loki Familia’s Artificial Hero; Damn, Shakti Can’t Catch a Break!; Shakti, Soon Munching Bento Aggressively: It’s Your Damn Fault! *Naaza With Her Resting Bitch Face*: Welcome to the Club
Comments
Laplase
He can't fight a Level 5 or a Level 6 so I really hope he has an escape plan for when Frog Face shows up.
Darkanlan
I hope he brought a ton of drugs to toss at Ishtar's family like he did Soma's. Seeing a bunch of amazons drugged up with aphrodisiacs and let loose as he runs off would be funny as hell. Be even funnier if Finn gets snatched by one and Tiona learns about it. There's no way she'd let her sister go a day without hearing how another amazon got him simply by taking the drugs first where she kept trying to drug him.
