A Disaster-Level Assassin Has Been Freed

Chapter 137: Son-in-Law (2)

Son-in-law.

A term for a daughter’s husband, something even Hagio, who lived a life unconnected to marriage, understood.

But he couldn’t help but ask, “Son-in-law?”

“Yes.”

“Me?”

“That’s right.”

“……”

“What, not interested?”

‘Interested or not, this isn’t the kind of conversation you have with someone you just met.’

Hagio had a perfectly reasonable thought.

From his perspective, with far greater social intelligence than mine, this old man was odd. Very odd.

Of course, he didn’t voice that thought outright.

Instead, he tactfully expressed his discomfort, “It’s not that I’m uninterested. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“The order seems wrong. Talk of sons-in-law or marriage should come after long acquaintance, when hearts align, values match, and there’s trust to spend a lifetime together…”

“Oh, ohh…”

“……?”

Hagio frowned.

He couldn’t help it. The old man suddenly looked at him with an admiring expression as he spoke.

Why?

What about him had impressed him so?

The answer came soon.

Philip Portville, visibly emotional to the point of tears, looked at me and Hagio alternately and said, “Remarkable, truly remarkable. Harang, his swordsmanship alone, rivaling that monstrous young man, is satisfying enough, but unlike you, he has such sensible speech. Indeed… my eyes weren’t mistaken!”

“……”

“……”

‘That stings.’

I looked at the Portville Family Head with a slightly shocked expression.

I knew my first impression wasn’t exactly sensible.

But I thought we’d built a decent relationship over time, showing only reasonable behavior. Was that not the case?

‘Hagio and I are both from Godok!’

Why such different reactions?

I couldn’t understand.

But Hagio did.

After glancing at me, he let out a soft “hm” and nodded, saying, “I’m indeed much more sensible and easier to talk to than this guy.”

“Anyone can see that.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank me? I’m the one grateful. For appearing before me, someone who could revive our family… Oh, I forgot to ask. You’re not married or engaged, are you?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Great. And, uh, your family?”

“Don’t have one. I’m an orphan…”

Clap!

“Oh! That’s perfect… I mean, sorry. It might’ve sounded like I was mocking your lack of parents. I just meant it’s better for our Portville Family. No, that sounds wrong too. Ugh, how do I say this?”

“Harang. Is this elder a bit… off?”

“…No, he’s not.”

I shook my head as I answered.

The reason was obvious.

I didn’t know before, but now I did—how much Philip Portville cherished and loved his family, how hard he worked to advance its swordsmanship and swordsmen.

From his perspective, Hagio—unhindered by any obstacles, highly skilled, and young—was like a priceless diamond.

Of course.

“Sir Philip Portville, sorry, but can we discuss that later? This is my friend I haven’t seen in a while, and we have private matters to talk about.”

I didn’t have to indulge his circumstances.

Thinking so, I politely requested he give us space.

I wanted to talk comfortably with Hagio, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, without outsiders, and I assumed Hagio felt the same. Inevitably, our conversation would touch on Godok and the village.

But Philip Portville was tenacious.

At least in this moment, he was stickier than a tick or leech.

Frowning briefly, he glared at me and said, “You.”

“Yes.”

“It’s been months since you promised to spar with me. Why no word yet?”

“Hm? Oh…!”

“Didn’t we agree? Three spars in exchange for protecting your friends and local merchants. Don’t tell me you forgot?”

“……”

Honestly, I had forgotten.

It was a clear mistake, a fault. Without Philip Portville, I couldn’t have gone to the Dark City Kalbaron so easily or obtained the Aura Cultivation Method.

Beyond that, failing to keep a promise was wrong in itself. Guilt showed on my face.

‘But why does this feel so uneasy?’

I vaguely understood.

The timing and intent were the issue.

His demeanor felt like he was saying, “You’ve wronged me, and now you’re coldly chasing me away?” It was tricky to handle.

“……”

“……”

“……”

Silence followed.

I was at a loss for how to resolve the situation, keeping my mouth shut, while Philip Portville seemed determined not to back down until he got what he wanted—Hagio’s favor.

In other words, the right to break this awkward atmosphere arguably lay with Hagio.

Fortunately, he made a suggestion everyone welcomed.

“Let’s drop the sparring talk. The mood’s gotten weird. Instead… how about a drink?”

“Me, me too?”

“Yes, elder, you too. Harang, you okay with it?”

“I’m fine, but… are you sure?”

The subtext was, ‘Are you okay with this son-in-law-obsessed old man?’ But Hagio nodded readily.

“It’s fine. The spar was incidental… I actually came for advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yes. I needed counsel about the orphanage, but… I think the elder, with more life experience, might offer better advice than you.”

“Exactly, of course. My swordsmanship may lag behind this young man, but my experience and wisdom are far greater.”

“Hm.”

I looked at Hagio.

I had suspected something was up.

I felt it during our fight. Though he likely sought the spar to test his skills, I’d glimpsed moments of frustration on his face.

“Alright, let’s go. Follow me.”

Speaking to both, I led the way, thinking.

What could it be?

What happened at the orphanage, what trouble arose, that Hagio would seek help from others?

My curiosity was soon answered.

After two mugs of beer, the core of the issue spilled from Hagio’s mouth.

“The orphanage kids were mocked.”

“Hm.”

“Hmm…”

“It was trivial at first. They were playing gang leader with wooden swords… Remember? The four you met when you first came to Marzen.”

“Oh, I remember.”

“Right. Cain, Huck, Doleo, Oswell… They came back beaten up.”

Hagio’s expression was grim as he spoke.

Of course, kids coming back injured wasn’t unusual. They were rambunctious, having seen all sorts of things growing up, and often got into trouble.

But this time was different.

The ones they clashed with were kids from a prestigious swordsmanship hall in Ruibil.

And the wounds they received weren’t just physical.

“‘No parents, dirt-poor orphan brats daring to beat us, trained at a swordsmanship hall?’”

“……”

“……”

“That’s what the kids heard, word for word. Haa.”

Sighing, Hagio downed his mug.

I finally understood why he needed advice.

‘With Hagio’s skill, he could probably take on that swordsmanship hall single-handedly.’

Though I didn’t know the hall’s level, if it was around the Portville Family’s caliber… honestly, Hagio was strong enough to confront them alone.

But would beating up the arrogant young masters heal the orphanage kids’ emotional scars?

Would making the hall’s master kneel erase their pain?

Likely not.

Hagio was mindful of that.

“If I were still… someone who enjoyed handling things the old way, I might’ve secretly hunted them down or threatened them. But I realized that wouldn’t solve the root issue.”

“……”

“……”

“So I came here. Harang, you’re peculiar, but… you’ve met and talked with more diverse people than I have, so I thought you might have some ideas.”

“Hm.”

“I’d also like to hear your opinion, elder.”

Hagio looked at Philip Portville, bowing politely, and continued, “It’s not about punishing those who insulted the orphanage kids. That’s too easy. Instead… how do we give hope to kids who’ve already been hurt? How do we give courage to kids who despair about their future and lose motivation due to their origins and circumstances? Do you have any wisdom?”

“…Ahem, ahem.”

Philip Portville silently stroked his chin.

He couldn’t help it.

He had caused a similar incident before—with the Eddy Family.

‘I was the perpetrator.’

Having such a precedent, he hesitated to speak lightly.

But with such a request, and his future son-in-law needing his help, he couldn’t stay silent.

Desperately racking his brain, he spoke, throwing out an idea, “How about hiring a skilled young mercenary?”

“A young mercenary?”

“Yes. Rather than you, Harang, or me—an adult—causing a scene, wouldn’t a young mercenary defeating those young masters resonate more? So… send someone the orphanage kids can relate to.”

“Hm…”

It wasn’t entirely wrong.

But it was impractical, so Hagio’s expression didn’t brighten.

Who would work as a mercenary at such a young age?

Even if they did, defeating young masters formally trained at a swordsmanship hall was another matter.

“Hm!”

Stand!

Then, I, who had been silent, suddenly stood up.

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

Hagio and Philip Portville looked at me.

Glancing at them, I said, “There is.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

“Someone perfect for the orphanage kids to relate to. Someone to give them courage and hope. Young, parentless, a former beggar… yet living each day tirelessly despite it all.”

Muttering, I called the waiter to quickly settle the bill.

As I left the tavern, I said, “Follow me. To meet that person.”