Chapter 140: Start Departs

The general's sudden call for Start caught both of them completely off guard. Kevin honestly had no desire to go, and he was quite fortunate to have a very reasonable excuse ready on the tip of his tongue. When he blurted it out, he hadn't expected that Start would end up taking his place. Kevin couldn't help but wonder if an entire legion truly had no one else to spare besides the two of them. They had just returned from a desperate, hard-fought battle; surely they wouldn't be sent right back out immediately?

Yet the general refused to play by convention, and the reasons for his decision were certainly sound enough. When it came to understanding the bandits, who knew more than Kevin and Start? With one refusing, the other had to be chosen. Being educated and capable, possessing a lower combat strength that wouldn't make the bandits overly nervous, and having read a vast amount of trope literature, Start was uniquely suited to deal with the bandits.

However, within a military camp, intellect and strength were indeed directly proportional. According to the current customs of the army, strength was paramount; only by possessing strength could one rise through the ranks, and only then would other aspects be considered. Trying to find someone of high intelligence yet weak combat prowess was an exceedingly difficult task in itself.

In Start's eyes, however, this inevitably felt as though Kevin had intentionally thrown a fatal suicide mission onto him. The two of them had just escaped death by a hair's breadth and were filled with a myriad of emotions, yet now a subtle rift had formed between them. Kevin, too, felt a twinge of guilt.

By the time they returned to the catapult camp, it was already close to dawn. Neither of them felt sleepy. As they sat by the table, Start sighed repeatedly. Kevin wanted to comfort him, but he had no idea what to say, feeling as though any words would merely sound like excuses for himself. Start, for his part, could find nothing to say either, since logic held no sway in this situation.

The two sat in silence until the sun rose in the east and the camp bugled for morning drills. Saiyin finally woke up, breaking the oppressive silence.

"You two okay now?" Saiyin asked casually while rapidly dressing. Judging by his appearance, he still intended to report for morning drill.

"Sigh!" Start sighed once more, lowering his head in silence.

Seeing this, Saiyin assumed Start was still grieving over Gray, and thus spoke up, "Sigh! I saw Gray's body too. The three of us used to bully him all the time, and now thinking about it... sigh!"

Kevin raised his head to look at him, feeling a pang of sympathy, but nonetheless delivered the truth: "Your brother is dead."

Saiyin: "..."

"You don't need to attend morning drill today. Go check on your old man," Kevin waved his hand.

With his clothes half on, Saiyin froze entirely. He then stared hard at Kevin's face, desperately searching for any sign of a joke, before turning his gaze to Start in an attempt to confirm it.

Kevin merely raised a hand. "Go find your old man and you'll know."

Looking suspiciously at the two of them, Saiyin calmly finished dressing, strapped on his sword and shield, and headed out to morning drill as usual. Watching his retreating figure, Kevin and Start both shook their heads repeatedly.

"He still doesn't believe it. Thinks we're messing with him?" Start sneered.

"It is indeed hard to believe," Kevin replied. "Anyway, he'll find out sooner or later. Perhaps seeing his brother dead yet still insisting on morning drill might even earn him a commendation."

The two shook their heads, and Kevin finally could not resist bringing the conversation back. "Actually, your current situation is very similar to my circumstances during the last expedition. When we set out last time, Saiyin stayed behind; you sensed something was clearly wrong, and so did I. In fact, I even had more clues at the time than you do now. But given the circumstances, I had no way to back out. Now that things have come to this, please don't blame me for running my mouth and pushing this mission onto you—you didn't have any other choice either."

Start glanced at Kevin and let out another sigh.

"We probably have about two days left. The bandits said three, though who knows when those three days officially start," Kevin said as he stood up. "Alright, let's grab some breakfast and spend these next two days preparing together. We need to anticipate every possible trope the bandits might use and maximize your chances of survival."

"After all, this is just a negotiation," Kevin analyzed. "Negotiations require an outcome, and surely they have to let you return to report back on the results?"

Start countered, "What if the talks break down? Will they just pack up my head in a box and send it back directly?"

"Let's go get breakfast first, don't rush," Kevin could only offer this comforting remark.

Start shook his head. "You go eat, I have no appetite."

"That works too," Kevin said without hesitation as he headed out. But right at the doorway, he paused to offer a final warning, "Don't try to run. First, you won't get away. Second, I'll be implicated as a result. And third—which follows from the second—I won't let you escape in the first place."

Start: "..."

When Kevin returned after finishing his breakfast, he found that Start had already begun writing and drawing in a notebook, occasionally flipping through a few books laid out beside him. Kevin nodded in quiet satisfaction. If a person was destined to undertake a mission with an extremely high mortality rate, why not die like a hero? After all, dying in such a manner carried a great deal of dignity.

The two immediately plunged into a heated discussion, abandoning the foolish questions of why the mission fell to them or why someone else wasn't chosen. They alternately consulted books, made notes, and ran live simulations, with Kevin playing the role of the bandit while Start practiced the dialogue.

Start straightened his posture and spoke with a blend of humility and dignity: "Respected bandit warriors, I am the negotiating representative sent this time..."

"Hahaha, aren't you so-and-so? You actually came too?" Kevin recalled the bandits' personalities and casually simulated a likely response.

Start paused, dumbfounded. "Would he really say something like that?"

"It's possible," Kevin answered. "After all, you're an acquaintance; he might feel a bit more familiar and want to reminisce. Besides, hearing you address them as 'respected bandit warriors' sounds completely awkward."

"Then what should I call them?" Start spread his hands. "Address them directly as 'bandits'? That's tantamount to cursing. Call them 'warriors'? That doesn't feel right either."

"Then simply omit the title altogether," Kevin suggested. "What do these roughnecks know about etiquette? 'Respected'—if you say that out loud, they'll just laugh at you. Just start with 'old friend'."

"Alright, like this then," Start cleared his throat. "Old friend, I'm here to negotiate. What do you people want?"

Kevin fell silent for a moment. "There are some key points here that we need to jot down. Obviously, they'll put forward certain conditions. We want them to release the hostages; at the very least, they want us to stop bothering them, and they might even demand money to take advantage of the situation and extort us. Tomorrow, we should go ask the general what his absolute bottom line is for the terms. Otherwise, we'll be going into these negotiations completely blind."

"That makes sense," Start immediately scribbled a paragraph down on paper.

The two debated until evening, organizing numerous critical issues and listing them all on paper. As for Saiyin, he had been out at morning drill and did not return until dusk. His complexion and expression were in stark contrast to that of the morning; his eyes were red and swollen, and tear tracks were clearly visible on his cheeks. After all, his brother had died.

"Saiyin," Kevin greeted him, "are you alright?"

Saiyin nodded dully and instinctively walked over to the table, casually picking up a sheet of paper to glance at it. He saw the following written on it: *"What to do if the talks break down completely and the bandit leader flies into a rage and wants to kill you? Trope solution: The Burst of Laughter Method!"*

*"Whether the bandit leader does it himself or orders his underlings to drag you out and execute you, you can try this depending on the situation. Just as the bandit leader raises his blade, or halfway through the guards dragging you away, suddenly burst into hearty, unrestrained laughter filled with sheer aura. At that moment, the bandit leader will most likely ask, 'What are you laughing at?' You can then reply, 'I am laughing because the bandit leader's doom is at hand, yet he remains completely ignorant,' or something similarly chilling and bizarre, as long as you can manage to back it up later. As long as the bandit leader is momentarily stunned, the crisis will be averted."*

Saiyin: "..."

"You're reading this?" Kevin asked, turning his head to notice. "How about we simulate this scenario right now and let Saiyin watch as a spectator? Come on, let's start!"

Kevin's expression shifted instantly as he slammed his hand down on the table. "F***! They actually sent a fat bastard like this? Men, drag him out and behead him! Throw his head back!"

Start burst into loud, uproarious laughter: "Hahahaha..."

Kevin frowned for a moment. "Somehow that laughter doesn't sound right. It doesn't seem like the way a normal person would laugh."

"Then how should I laugh?" Start tried several different variations of laughter. "Hahahahaha?" "Hahaha?" "Ha?"

"It's best if the laughter sounds genuine—the kind where you laugh so hard you lose all your strength and instinctively pound the floor," Kevin instinctively dropped to the floor, mimicking the action of pounding the ground. Start followed suit, dropping down and pounding the floor as well. Laughter was contagious, and since both of them were already trying hard to force a laugh, they soon became infected by each other's sounds. Propelled by this momentum, their laughter morphed into genuine, uncontrolled mirth: "Hahahahaha... ahahahaha... ahahaha..."

Laughter echoed continuously through the room. The two lay flat on the floor, gasping for breath from laughing so hard, though neither actually knew what they were laughing at.

Standing nearby, Saiyin watched the entire spectacle with a dark expression: "..." *(My brother is dead, and the two of you are this happy?)*

The next day, Kevin and Saiyin went to see the general once again, presenting all the issues they had brainstormed the day before.

First, the two hoped that Start could be equipped with some life-saving measures, such as a spatial ring. A ring like that could hold a large quantity of supplies, or perhaps other miscellaneous items, granting him a sliver of a chance to escape under exceptional circumstances.

To this, General Ould did not agree. The enemy had a mastermind behind the scenes; what if a spatial ring was confiscated? However, the general did provide a few high-quality, one-time-use magic scrolls. Among them was a wind-type speed enhancement scroll, which could drastically reduce body weight for a short duration to increase movement speed; a shadow scroll, capable of creating an identical shadow clone, though this clone remained completely stationary and served merely to confuse an opponent; and a water-mist scroll, which could generate fog in the surrounding area to facilitate concealment—an effect that would be even more potent in the perpetually fog-swathed Cardula Hills.

However, these scrolls could generally only be used with confidence by intermediate mages and above. For Start, whose mental power was far lower, forcing their use would mean at most one scroll per day, and using one might leave him dizzy for a period afterward. He could only choose one of the three.

All three scrolls were sewn directly into his underwear to prevent the bandits from discovering them during a body search.

Second, the two hoped that Start could temporarily bond with a parrot. The rest of them would wait at the transit station outside the Cardula Hills, allowing Start's negotiation status to be transmitted back in real-time. Furthermore, they could offer suggestions to Start through the parrot.

Contracted telepathic communication had its distance limits, determined by the strength of the spiritual power of both parties. Since Start was not a mage, everyone else had to wait outside.

The general readily agreed to this point, immediately summoning several new parrots for Start to choose from and form a bond.

Third, and most crucially, was the bottom line the general was willing to accept. On this point, however, the general kept hesitating, while the two sword saints stood by like onlookers, watching the spectacle.

In the end, the general brushed the matter aside with the excuse: "We'll be getting real-time communication anyway, we'll see how things go when the time comes."

Kevin understood that, fundamentally, the general still didn't want to go through with the negotiations, and Kevin doubted his words from yesterday had truly changed the general's mind. The real key likely lay with the two observing sword saints. Yesterday, Sword Saint Bright had clearly been opposed, but as a guest, it was improper for him to directly order General Ould around. Even though they were part of an investigation team dispatched by the king, they were of equal rank, so he had simply pushed Kevin forward.

At the same time, Bright had calculated that Kevin would inevitably step up as a thorn in the side; if he didn't, he would have been pushed forward forcibly. It seemed as though Bright was saying, "This is what your subordinate objects to, it has nothing to do with me," but in reality, it also expressed Bright's own stance. Rather than saying the general was persuaded by Kevin, it was more accurate to say he was giving Bright face.

Reflecting on it now, Kevin couldn't help but feel that his considerations had not been entirely thorough, but given the sudden turn of events, perfection was impossible. All they could do now was pray that Start would return victorious.

Upon returning, they spent the night engaging in extensive simulations and discussions, with Saiyin joining in as well. The three of them rested only in the dead of night.

On the third day, General Ould and several core figures, accompanied by the two observing sword saints and Kevin's group, set out. Lieutenant Colonel House was left behind to temporarily manage affairs within the military camp, as news of the first regiment's capture was still strictly suppressed to prevent a larger riot. If these negotiations succeeded and the hostages were rescued, everything would be resolved without incident.

The small squad set off, rapidly arriving at the transit station where the general's guards immediately busied themselves pitching tents and setting up camp. Meanwhile, Start formally bade farewell to everyone. Even the general dropped his usual stern demeanor, shaking Start's hand one by one.

Kevin spoke up: "Did you tell your family?"

Start shook his head. "No. I was afraid that if I told them, I wouldn't be able to leave."

"Hero," General Ould replied, "regardless of the outcome, you are a hero."

"Brave warrior," General Bright also added, "you are fully worthy of such a title."

"What a pity," Baron Gulaide sighed. "This is a negotiation and requires a clear head; otherwise, I'd give you a bowl of wine to see you off."

"Brave soul," Kevin said, "you must come back."

Start gave a military salute to everyone. There was neither cowardice nor fear in his gaze, only steadfast determination and calm resolve. In the current situation, only by trying to act the hero could one survive. He was a hero by necessity, but a hero nonetheless.

The crowd returned the salute, and then Start resolutely strode toward the depths of the Cardula Hills. His retreating figure gradually grew smaller before finally vanishing entirely into the thick, rolling fog. (To be continued.)