"You're being too loud, screaming the Vandymion name like that old man… This is what you get, damn liar…"
No one knew what a Vandymion looked like; our identities were meant to be kept secret to protect us from our enemies.
"In the off chance that is a Vandymion, we must capture her alive, and kill all those who heard the Vandymion name,"
"V—Vandymion!?" One of the men stuttered.
Silence stretched between us, but I could tell some were smiling under their mask.
So they didn't ambush us because they knew my identity. No one would know my looks, so it made sense. It was simply that we looked weak and carried rare ores? That plump old gorilla must have reported it to some gang, and now they're trying to rob us. How would they even know what's in our sack?
"Change of plans! The fat bastard could be lying to us, but let's take the chance! Take her alive! Do I make myself clear?"
