The horde of magical bandits that ruled the Land of Quicksand.

If the Corrupted of the Great Plains, the borderland of District 12, were a horror like endlessly multiplying zombies.

These were a horror like ghosts that could pop out from anywhere.

On the sandy ground where their feet sank, they rode on horses and ran as if flying.

The hot and vast desert was a desperate environment for the prey being chased.

First of all, as befitting a tribe from the city of barbarians, they were also strong warriors.

They knew how to fight and were even clever.

I, too, had a hard time in my first encounter with them.

...Of course, now that I was a veteran, I knew how to deal with them.

"Just because you have good eyes doesn't mean you have the right means of attack."

The advantages of the horde of magical bandits were their fast mobility and their agile and strong bodies.

As for weapons, they enjoyed using cold weapons such as spears, swords, and axes.

At first glance, like the process of the fall of the cavalry in original history, one would think they would become the prey of bullets.

Although I, who had fought them with a gun, was one to talk, it was a method that did not work well in reality.

First, the sandstorm.

It was the culprit that lowered the accuracy of long-range weapons to the extreme.

Next, the mobility of the magical bandits.

Since they traversed the desert as if it were flat ground, if you were not careful, they would be in front of you in an instant.

More than anything, there was mana in the world of FP.

The scenes in movies where they saw the trajectory of a gun and avoided it or cut a bullet in half were realistically possible feats in this world.

Therefore, if you wanted to fight them with a gun, sniping from a long distance was the most effective.

Because even for such monsters, a surprise attack was still effective.

'I didn't think I could snipe with a pistol.'

The M2 Maximum, which was a concentration of the latest construction methods of the military-industrial complex directly operated by the security bureau.

Its specs far surpassed the limits of a pistol.

So much so that it could be used in place of a sniper rifle if only the vision was secured.

'If the gunsmith had seen this, he would have lain down with a sore neck from regret.'

Although he thought he had ripped me off, his thoughts would have changed if he had seen these specs directly.

"Ha, how can this be?"

The guide, with a strangely aged tone, could not close his mouth at my performance.

"...I didn't recognize a great man. If I was rude, please forgive me."

"Just guide me properly."

Because I had hired him for just that much.

The fact that he hadn't run away was more than I had expected.

I walked through the corpses, leaving the guide who had become humble behind.

Whether it was a horse or a person, a hole was pierced fairly between their eyebrows.

It was thanks to the precise aiming correction function of the gun.

This was also the reason why the M2 Maximum was evaluated as a high-performance firearm.

No matter how much experience I had as a security guard, that was a story from when I was a game character.

With a normal gun, it was impossible to hit every shot from this distance without the assistance of a skill.

"Hmm."

When I kicked the clothes with my foot, a common pattern was revealed.

It was a picture of a biting wolf.

"If it's this pattern... is it the Ulfirin tribe?"

Clinton came over and agreed.

"That's right. You're very knowledgeable about this tribe."

"I learned it as a matter of culture."

"Indeed."

I roughly made an excuse.

Clinton, who didn't seem to have much interest, just let it go.

"Do you know where the advance base of the Ulfirin tribe is?"

The horde of magical bandits in this place had set up bases here and there to keep the vast desert under their influence.

It was a kind of watchtower and a temporary settlement.

"That's right, it will be a bit of a detour, but it's closer than the distance from here to the destination."

"Then let's take a detour for a moment."

"...?"

"Since you said we would arrive earlier than planned, a detour of a few days shouldn't be a problem."

"That's not what I meant."

The guide asked back with a look that hoped his prediction was wrong.

"Why are you stopping by there?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

I reached for my holster and felt the cold touch of the gun.

"I'm going to clean up beforehand before any more troublesome things happen."

It was a refusal to be disturbed by magical bandits during the ruin exploration.

***

"Keok!"

"Ugh!"

Molaga, the 3rd assault captain of the Ulfirin tribe, felt his mouth go dry at the spreading screams of his subordinates.

Why was it that in this glorious place where only the despair and sorrow of the prisoners should have lingered, only the death throes of the tribe's warriors echoed?

The signs that had been there before this tragedy occurred kept replaying in Molaga's mind.

"...I should have been suspicious of the patrol's failure to return."

Yes, if he had, they wouldn't have been so miserably defeated.

It was a mistake to think it was just a usual deviation.

Because of that, a disaster had come to their camp.

"You must escape, Molaga!"

"I know that too. But where to?"

"That's..."

Molaga, leaving his subordinate who was biting his lip behind, fell into deep thought.

A fierce battle was taking place at the front of the base.

Numerous people were fighting each other, their bodies pressed together, and they were brandishing weapons stained with blood.

At first glance, it seemed to be an even match, but to the eyes of a veteran warrior, the flow was visible.

The tide of defeat was strong.

The reason was that the so-called magical bandits were unable to display their advantage of mobility because they were defending their base.

At this rate, it would not be strange if the defense line was breached at any time.

"Aaargh!"

"U-ugh!"

On the other hand, the rear had a completely opposite atmosphere.

This place was relatively quiet.

However, the morale of the warriors was incomparably gloomy compared to the front.

There was no fighting here.

This was a hunt.

They, the hunters, had become the prey.

The tribesmen, who were born warriors, were losing their lives one by one without even being able to swing their swords once, without even knowing the reason.

It was only natural that the tribesmen were terrified by the sight, as if a ghost were taking their lives.

"I've decided."

Molaga finished his deliberation.

"We will evacuate to the rear."

If they put all their forces into the front, it would be a certain defeat.

Compared to that, there was a way to live in the rear.

The enemy in the rear was small in number.

In his feeling, it was probably one person.

The fact that he was not finishing them off at once, but carefully taking their lives one by one, meant that there were few hands available.

If a large number of them ran away, it would be impossible for the unidentified enemy to deal with them all at once.

Especially if they fled on horseback, it was clear that he would not be able to maintain the same accurate sniping as now.

"Get on your horses! We're getting out of here now!"

Although it was a pity to leave the warriors at the front to their fate, those who could live had to live.

Following the greater good, Molaga attempted to escape with his close associates.

And he was bewildered by the unexpected development.

"...You're finally coming out. Isn't your judgment a little too late?"

Molaga was bewildered by the appearance of a man who was blocking his way.

Wasn't the one who had attacked the rear a mage, or a sniper?

They were a type that could be easily dealt with if they fought head-on.

He didn't think he would show himself so boldly.

"By the way, the number is a little small. Hasn't the dispatched patrol returned yet?"

"Kill him."

Molaga ordered.

He was the enemy who had killed many of his compatriots.

Although it was puzzling that he had shown himself, there was no reason to miss the opportunity for revenge that had come.

Thud, thud, thud!

The sound of horse hooves echoed throughout the area.

The sand and dust kicked up by the hooves swirled like a storm, and the vibration that shook the ground became an earthquake and even shook the air.

No matter how unsightly they were while running away, the fact that they were the disaster of the desert did not change.

It was not difficult to show their dignity against a single young man.

"..."

The man, in front of that sight, could not even move, as if his swollen liver had shrunk.

If you act recklessly, you have to pay the price.

The warriors let out a cheer at the young man's despair.

Crash! Neigh!

"Keok!"

"N-no!"

"Stop!"

The cheer turned into a scream right after.

The warriors who had been leading the way fell into the ground in an instant.

Even if they tried to pull the reins in a hurry, it was already too late.

The hole in the ground that had swallowed the vanguard gradually widened and trapped them all in a trap.

"Why is there quicksand here...!"

"It's not quicksand!"

"It's a trap!"

It was not a swamp-like quicksand that sank.

What they had fallen into was a cone-shaped sand pit.

Molaga shook his head, which had been shocked by the fall from his horse, and looked up.

It was high.

The sand flowing into the center of the pit they had fallen into sank as soon as he put his hand in it and did not function as a support.

Psh!

"Aaargh!"

Furthermore, inside the pit, a thorny vine was growing as if multiplying and was binding them.

Molaga struck it with his axe and analyzed it coolly.

He might be able to climb up if he stacked the corpses of the horses.

The problem was the enemy who was looking down on them.

Swoosh!

The desert sun was more dazzling than that of the city.

The silhouette of the enemy, with the backlight as a background, was truly bizarre.

A black something that looked like the tentacles of a cephalopod living in the sea was wriggling behind him.

Whatever it was, Molaga could sense his fate.

"The front and the back were all a dead end."

They had been trapped for a long time.

There was no chance of winning from the beginning, and choosing where to die was the only choice left to them.

Psh, psh, psh!

The wooden stems pierced their entire bodies as if skewering them.

***

"What happened inside?"

The corpses buried in the sand showed a look of resignation right before death.

The magical bandits I knew were not such submissive people.

It was strange that they had taken an attitude of obediently accepting their fate, even though they would have been angry at having fallen into a trap and died.

"The front and the back."

The last words muttered by their leader also bothered me.

Well, considering the scale of the search party that had attacked me, it was strange from the beginning that there were only this many people who had come out of the base.

[The World Tree informs you that there are people in front.]

I buried the corpses and walked to the base.

On the way, I discovered a group of men and women running.

"Stop!"

They stopped at a distance from me.

Each of them held a sharp weapon in one hand, and their clothes were stained with blood.

It was an atmosphere of having just fought a battle.

The one who stepped forward was a blonde woman.

"Who are you?"

"I'd like to ask that. That direction should be the advance base of the Ulfirin tribe."

"We just destroyed the advance base of the Ulfirin tribe. We are now chasing their remnants."

"Hmm."

So, was this why?

At their answer, I could understand the attitude of the magical bandits.

'So they had to deal with their attack from the front and my sniping from the back.'

For them, it must have been a truly coincidental timing.

They must have mistaken me for being on their side.

"Those remnants are buried in the back. If you dig up the unnaturally raised ground, you'll find the corpses."

"Go."

A moment later, when the subordinate who had finished scouting reported, the woman nodded her head.

"It seems we came for the same purpose."

The woman, who had retrieved her weapon, raised her hand and ordered her subordinates to stay still, and then she approached.

"I'm Chelsea, the second-in-command of the Thorson exploration team."

"..."

I just looked down at the hand she had extended.

The Thorson exploration team.

Although I had been prepared, I didn't think I would meet them so soon.

"Allen, a contract killer."

I accepted her handshake.

The hot, sweaty hand was unpleasant.

The smell of blood that she hadn't been able to erase was a bonus.

"What's a contract killer doing in the Land of Quicksand?"

"That's a business secret, so I can't tell you."

"Ah, a request. Did you come alone?"

"I hired a guide."

"It would be difficult to cross the Land of Quicksand with just one guide..."

Chelsea stopped talking and closed her mouth.

She must have remembered the warriors of the Ulfirin tribe who were buried in the desert.

For a skilled person who was not afraid of a horde of magical bandits, one guide was enough for a companion.

"Anyway, it's a fate that we met like this, so why don't you rest for a while before you go? The base of the horde of magical bandits was quite luxurious."

Chelsea said in an innocent tone, as if offering a favor.

I shook my head.

"I'm in a hurry. I came to give a warning, but since they've been wiped out, I have no more business here."

"Is that so? That's a pity. Then I'll give you one piece of advice."

Chelsea said with a meaningful smile, "I hope we don't see each other again."

It was not difficult to grasp the hidden meaning in those words.

"I agree."

***

"...He has a good sense."

Allen disappeared over the horizon.

Chelsea clicked her tongue, recalling his conservative reaction.

"What happened?"

"He noticed that we were hostile. I don't think I showed it, though."

Allen had immediately refused the invitation to the base without a moment's hesitation.

He had seen through the sinister purpose hidden within.

"It's become troublesome."

A subordinate said, wiping the blood from his blade.

If he had followed obediently, it would have been over quickly.

A corner that needed to be taken care of had increased.

"He seemed to have understood the warning, so we should be satisfied with that. He was not an easy opponent to deal with with this number of people."

He was a contract killer who had single-handedly dealt with the remnants of the fleeing enemy's leadership.

And since he didn't have a single scratch, he was an opponent of considerable skill.

"There's no need to make an enemy of someone whose purpose is not even clear and increase the number of casualties."

It was an important time.

Even the slightest sacrifice should not occur.

"Because we are about to explore the ruin."

It was a time when all the capabilities of the exploration team had to be concentrated.

The surrounding cleanup was a preliminary preparation for that.

At the statement that carried a heavy weight, a subordinate who had been silent asked carefully, "...But this exploration, do we really have to do it?"

"We have no choice. It's the first time the captain has pushed for something so frantically."

"That's what's strange. It's as if he's addicted to something. And of all things, against the Magic Tower..."

"Enough."

Chelsea scanned the group sharply.

As the second-in-command of the exploration team, she could not tolerate any more complaints.

"The captain's judgment has always been right, so it will be this time as well."

She herself could not tell whether it was a self-hypnosis or a desperate hope that it had to be so.

(End of Chapter)