Muscleheaded Thinking

A week had passed since I returned to the base. The wound on my shoulder had completely closed, and the broken part still ached a little, but it had healed enough that I could move normally.

Was it the benefit of leveling up? Or did living like a wildling raise my vitality? Either way, my recovery speed was astonishing.

While it was good that my injuries healed, I worried about my body having gone soft. My supply of jerky was running low, too, and I decided to go out hunting.

So I went hunting, made charcoal, and prepared jerky. While I kept an eye on the condition of my sluggish body and did various tasks, another week passed.

Two weeks had now gone by since I was injured, and my wounds were fully healed. My body felt lighter than before, probably because I had leveled up after killing that hobgoblin. My food stockpile had increased, too, and I finally felt some peace of mind.

That made me remember what happened in the village. Killing an unknown person and stealing their belongings… Perhaps choosing to do that was unavoidable in a countryside village overrun by monsters.

But as someone whose life had been threatened, I could not let myself accept that so easily.

I cannot say, “You must be struggling too, so I forgive you.” My heart was smaller than a plastic bottle cap.

Since my injuries had healed and my life had stabilized, I had some free time. As a result, memories of that village kept crossing my mind.

I owed them for treating my injuries.

But they had stolen the materials from the hobgoblin I risked my life fighting, and also my weapons and armor. They had almost killed me for no reason, and I could not forgive that no matter what.

I also thought about the village girl. She was the first person in this world I had actually talked to. It had been a fleeting encounter, not even a proper conversation.

Still, they are the person who saved my heart, which had been on the verge of breaking due to my loneliness. Although it’s my own selfish way of relying on her, and I’m just unilaterally grateful, I still am.

The village girl was likely the one who had treated my wounds. The village chief would not have treated someone he was trying to kill.

I wonder if she was all right. Was she being treated cruelly by the villagers because she treated me and helped me escape?

A village that is harsh and closed-off only to outsiders would be one thing, but people who kill others and steal their belongings… There’s no way the heart of a person who would make such a choice is good.

Logically speaking, it’s better to not get involved. Judging that I am free of any debts since I had already saved the village girl from the hobgoblin, I could just follow the road from the village to the town.

The villagers were trying to kill me in order to steal the hobgoblin’s materials from me. This means that monster materials can be sold for money.

If monster materials turn into money, then there must be people or organizations whose livelihood is based on killing monsters. Since it’s a classic trope in light novels, there must be adventurer guild-like organizations.

As someone reincarnated into a fantasy world, I also have a longing to become an adventurer. Moreover, I have no relatives, and without knowing the common sense of this world, there’s no way I could land a decent job.

I think becoming an adventurer is the best option for surviving. I could just forget about the village girl and go to the town.

And yet, I wonder why, deep inside my heart, I feel uneasy. I have no luxury to worry about other people’s problems, and yet I am. What a mess I am.

I’ll go to the village and check whether the village girl is being treated unfairly. If everything seems fine, I can just leave. Despite telling myself that, I am afraid of going to the village.

It’s impossible to judge someone’s level by their appearance. They had lived for years in a village surrounded by monsters. There’s a possibility that there are warriors who are beyond my ability to handle.

Even more terrifying than that is that I am not prepared to kill another person. I’ve gotten used to killing humanoid creatures like goblins.

But goblins cannot communicate with words. Can I kill a human who could speak? Even if I could, would I not be crushed by guilt…?

Could I really remain unmoved watching people scream, beg for their lives, and utter curses as they die…?

In the middle of a fight, if I hesitated even for a moment, death would readily take my life. I was born in peaceful Japan and raised with moral education from childhood.

From the standpoint of species preservation, there’s also an instinctive revulsion, a taboo against killing one’s own kind.

While I lay around the base, agonizing and worrying, the brash, musclehead part of my personality began to surface.

“If you’re concerned, just go check on the village girl. Can’t bring yourself to commit murder? Killing isn’t new. How many lives of monsters haven’t you already taken?

The village chief and his cronies tried to kill you, you know. You used to make fun of protagonists in light novels who avoid killing at all costs.

Stop pretending to be a good person. Overthinking this is just a waste of time. Remember the Nozaki family motto.”

I could hear the musclehead inside me whispering that. Right, worrying was a waste of time. I had always lived by the spirit of throw yourself at it and see what happens.

When I thought about it that way, the unease in my chest cleared up. Then, as if reminding myself, I spoke the Nozaki family motto aloud.

“The Nozaki family motto: ‘Repay favors double, take revenge tenfold.’”

It was simple. All I had to do was repay the village girl’s kindness and take revenge on the village chief.

My fear of committing murder? Once I kill one person, it won’t matter anymore. They’re just pigs who would casually commit robbery and murder.

There was never any doubt from the start. How refreshing this feels. Wait for me, village girl. Wait for me, village chief.

Grinning wickedly, I prepared to head to the village.