Chapter 45: Facts don't Bend
The old man's eyes widened so much Zodac half-expected them to fall out of their sockets. For a brief moment, the town head simply stared, lips parted, as if his mind had stalled while trying to process the number that had just been spoken so casually.
"Two… hundred?" he finally repeated, his voice cracking around the word.
Roxy spun toward Zodac so fast her robe fluttered. "Wait—what?!" she exclaimed. "Isn't that a little too much?!"
Zodac did not even look at her at first. His gaze remained fixed on the old man, calm, steady, and unreadable. Then, without turning his head, he spoke in a flat tone.
"Naive child."
Roxy's brows furrowed instantly. The word stung more than she expected, and her lips pressed into a thin line. But before she could snap back, Zodac continued.
"I was able to fight here last night," he said, his voice low but firm, "and reduce the casualties and destruction that would have fallen on this village without my intervention."
Roxy's eyes widened. She turned slowly toward him, replaying the scene from the night before—the monster charging through the town gate, its fists smashing into the ground, the way houses trembled under its roars. If Zodac hadn't been there… the inn, the homes, the people—
He wasn't exaggerating.
"He's right," she realized inwardly.
" If that thing had gone unchecked, this town would have been reduced to rubble."
"The service should cost more," she admitted silently to herself,
"because there was no major destruction. No houses collapsed. No blood ran through the streets."
Zodac finally turned his head toward the old man.
"And I also wouldn't ask you to pay," he added, "if I had destroyed anything in the town myself."
The words landed heavily.
The old man swallowed. His hands trembled slightly as he clasped them together. He had lived long enough to understand the weight behind those statements. Two hundred silvers was a fortune—but rebuilding a town? Burying the dead? Losing families, trade routes, safety?
That would have cost far more.
"…Seems fair," the old man said at last.
Roxy's shock deepened. Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.
"He accepted it? Just like that?" she thought.
The town head stood there for a moment longer, then bowed deeply. "I will gather the payment. Please… rid us of this threat."
As the old man turned and walked away, Roxy remained frozen, staring at Zodac as if seeing him for the first time.
"How did he do that?" she wondered. *He didn't raise his voice. He didn't threaten. He didn't even negotiate.*
He had simply stated facts—cold, sharp, undeniable.
Zodac reached into his cross bag and pulled out a small silver vial. The glass caught the morning light as he uncorked it and tilted his head back, pouring the transparent liquid into his mouth. A moment later, a thin cloud of white steam escaped his lips as he exhaled.
Roxy watched him closely, studying his face, the way his expression never changed.
"How did you do that?" she finally asked.
Zodac glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Do what?"
"You know," she said quickly, gesturing vaguely, "how you turned the whole conversation around. He didn't even get the chance to negotiate."
"I just ironed out the facts," Zodac replied. More steam drifted from his mouth as the potion settled in his system.
"…Is that all?" she asked softly.
He shrugged. "Facts don't bend. People do."
Roxy fell silent. She stared down at her hands, fingers curling slightly around her staff.
"I just wish I could…" she hesitated, then swallowed. "Be heard. Be listened to."
Zodac looked at her properly this time. Really looked. Despite her confidence, her bright eyes, there was uncertainty there—someone still trying to prove herself to the world.
"You're not a kid," he said. "Talk back when you need to. Even if you have to shout."
Roxy blinked.
"The world revolves around strength," he continued. "If you let people push you aside, they will. Don't let anyone keep you in the dark."
For a moment, she forgot how to speak.
Before she could respond—
"ROXY!"
Her name rang out across the street.
"ROXY!!"
This time, the voice was female.
Both of them turned to the right. From a short distance away, a brown-haired man waved enthusiastically. He wore dark barbarian armor, heavier and more polished than Zodac's. Clinging to his arm was a woman with sharp eyes and a playful grin, her grip possessive.
They hurried toward them.
"Who are they?" Zodac asked.
"My crew," Roxy replied. "My party mates."
She turned back toward him. "What about you? Where are your party mates?"
Zodac did not hesitate. "I work alone."
Then he turned and walked away.
Roxy took a step forward, wanting to say something—anything—but the words stuck in her throat. She could only watch his back as he disappeared into the flow of the street, just as her companions reached her.
"Roxy, where have you been?" the man asked.
"We didn't see you at the inn," the woman added, smirking. "And then we find you with some mysterious guy?"
Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "You in love?"
"W-What? No!" Roxy stammered, her face flushing crimson.
"Was he with you last night?" the woman teased, grin widening.
"No! Never that!" Roxy squeaked, cheeks burning.
The woman laughed and glanced toward the street just in time to see Zodac vanish around a corner.
"Ohhh, he's cute *and* handsome," she sighed.
"Uh, hello? I'm still here," the man said jokingly.
"Roxy, forget this nobody among us," the woman said, elbowing her.
Roxy barely heard them. Her thoughts lingered on the lone adventurer who had already moved on.
---
Zodac stood at the edge of the town, where broken ground and scorched earth marked the previous night's battle. His eyes traced the path where the monster had fled, the crushed stone, the deep footprints gouged into the dirt.
He knelt and placed his palm against the ground.
"The fact that the monster has raided this place three times in three days is suspicious," he muttered.
Most monsters didn't behave like that. Territorial beasts defended areas, yes—but repeated attacks, always retreating instead of finishing the job?
"And its strength," he continued.
"Far beyond what a single roaming creature should possess."
"It's possible that it may not have been the same one that was raiding, that there might be more of them since from my experience monsters would sometimes roam in groups. And by frightening that one, i may have put a target on the town"
His fingers brushed over the earth, feeling faint vibrations—old, fading, but present.
"Spartial Awareness."
A pulse rippled outward from his body, invisible yet powerful. Information flooded his senses—terrain, residual mana, disturbances.
Zodac opened his eyes slowly.
"…Nothing," he said.
But that only deepened his frown.
He rose to his feet and accessed his system panel, scanning through his skills out of habit—until something unfamiliar caught his attention.
**Skills:**
Enemy Hate Reaction
Spartial Awareness
Health
Boost Gear [Lv20]
"…A Boost Gear?" he muttered.