Chapter 142: Negotiation (Part I)

Start's life was spared for the time being, and the negotiations were far from over, but the General was extremely dissatisfied with his progress. From the General's perspective, since he had already agreed to their conditions, it should either succeed or fail. Having already prepared for the worst-case scenario of losing a 200-man battalion, he had held no hope for these negotiations from the outset; he merely felt that every extra day dragged on meant an extra day of trouble.

To this, Kevin could not offer any further consolation. The General was still grieving the loss of his son, and a glance at his expression showed he looked displeased with everyone and felt like executing someone on the spot. Fortunately, although the General was furious both in heart and countenance, he managed to restrain himself and wait.

As for Start, saving his life was only temporary. The opposing side had already seen through his contract. What did this imply? It meant that if the negotiations collapsed, killing him would become even simpler. Ordinarily, they might have had to send him back with a message, or even if they killed him, they would have had to return his severed head, a process that could introduce flaws. But now none of that was necessary; they could simply finish him off right here, since messages could be transmitted at any time anyway.

Inside the cave, the torches still burned brightly. It seemed every bandit had a clear division of labor: some gathered firewood, some cooked, and others continued engaging in homosexual activities. After a while, the torches began to be extinguished one by one. Although there was normally no distinction between day and night inside the cave, it was clear they were still accustomed to sleeping at a set hour.

As the torches went out, the cave plunged into pitch darkness. Shouts and snores drifted through the night air, and it seemed no one was even assigned to guard duty. Start, currently confined within a cage, felt a shred of gratitude; at least he was currently the only person in all the cages wearing clothes.

Start felt the iron lock of the cage and promptly gave up on struggling. Hoping to sneakily pick the lock like some solitary hero and escape alone through a completely unfamiliar bandit lair where you couldn't even see your own hand in front of your face was entirely unrealistic—even though the bandits seemingly had no guards and were remarkably foolish.

It would be far better to carefully consider how to seize the initiative in tomorrow's negotiations. Not far from him were several other cages. Although he couldn't see them, memory told him they held members of the Thunder Knights. Start lowered his voice and called out into the darkness, "Hey."

"Oh, the negotiator?" A soft response came from over there. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Start replied briefly, immediately starting to inquire about what had happened to them since they were captured, hoping to gather as much intelligence on the bandits as possible.

Naturally, the prisoners held nothing back. From their campaign to meeting this miserable end, every single detail, every speculation, and every grievance was poured out completely. At this moment, it seemed more like an emotional release; simply speaking it aloud made them feel a little better, while Start acted as a loyal listener. At the same time, he relayed all of this information entirely to the parrot.

The parrot was jolted awake on the spot. Feeling that the massive amount of information being transmitted was too much to remember, it hurriedly flew off to wake Kevin. Kevin did not waste a word; he sat straight up from his bedding, grabbed pen and paper, and began recording. Given the urgency of the situation, he didn't even notify the General.

Only now did they truly understand the basic composition of these bandits. Thirty percent of them were homosexuals, alongside various petty thugs, slaves, homeless paupers, escaped criminals, and the like. Although homosexuals accounted for only thirty percent, because the bandit leader himself was gay, homosexuality was the mainstream culture here. The non-gay bandits had also grown accustomed to the local "culture," and even unconsciously influenced by it, they were becoming increasingly gay themselves.

They claimed to be outcasts rejected by society, and their hearts were filled with righteous indignation. A single utterance of "damn gay" would enrage them, provoking a large mob of homosexuals to forcibly subject the offender to homosexual acts. Here, homosexuality was sacred, and homosexuals seemed to hold a higher status even among the bandits.

Meanwhile, a large number of the bandits were injured. Even the bandit leader was still wrapped in bandages, having had three fingers lopped off. There were several hundred others nursing various degrees of injuries; it was common to see people with bandaged arms and walking canes. Start understood in his heart that these casualties were primarily inflicted by himself, Kevin, and Grey. That prolonged battle in the cave had indeed dealt a considerable blow to the bandits.

From listening to their conversations on ordinary days, the prisoners had also learned that these individuals were late-stage protagonists-syndrome patients. Every bandit held an idealized dream that one day they would become invincible like true protagonists, capable of trampling over gods and obliterating deities. Therefore, all they did day in and day out was idle about, firmly believing that plot points would automatically find them, allowing them to resolve crises with supreme domineering aura and naturally level up in power.

At this, the captured members of the Thunder Knights naturally sneered in contempt, yet no one dared to voice it aloud. At the same time, they reflected on how they, as an elite force, had managed to fall into the hands of such trash—what face did they have left to mock them?

Start sighed incessantly. A lion leading a flock of sheep had ultimately been defeated by a pig leading a pride of lions. At this point, blaming the staff officer was pointless, especially since he himself was now subjected to subhuman treatment. If everyone still had a chance to get out alive, Start didn't plan to pursue the officer's responsibility any further.

Having brushed shoulders with life and death, simply remaining alive was the greatest blessing; why bother arguing over so much? Of course, whether the staff officer had the face to continue serving as a staff officer was another matter entirely.

The next day, the bandits woke up promptly, and a group of them lazily went around lighting torches. They seemed to have long since memorized the terrain; even in pitch-black conditions, they precisely lit the first torch, and then, using its glow, lit the rest one by one.

The prisoners received no breakfast; only at noon would half a piece of bread and half a bowl of water be tossed to them, and naturally, Start was no exception.

After watching the bandits finish their breakfast with eager eyes, someone finally unlocked Start's cage. "Move it. The boss wants to see you."

Start emerged from the cage in response, straightened his clothes, and walked onto the red carpet with his usual composure. Lifting his head to look up at the bandits, he said, "Good morning, esteemed Lord Rex."

The bandit leader nodded. "Mm, not bad. Very polite."

"What kind of recreational activities does Lord Rex usually enjoy?" Start stalled for time with idle chatter.

"Homosexual acts, obviously," the bandit leader replied matter-of-factly.

"Nothing else?" Start appeared quite regretful.

"This is no time to discuss such things," suddenly, that voice rang out again. "Let's get down to business—the negotiation."

"Very well," Start said helplessly. He had wanted to butter up the bandit leader, but apparently, that voice wouldn't allow it. "Yesterday our General already agreed to your conditions; can you now agree to ours?"

"You want us to release the prisoners?" the voice asked.

"Yes."

"How could it be that easy?" The voice sneered.

Start decided to try a slightly tougher stance. "Do not forget, there are only so many of you bandits. Confined to just this patch of land, even without a Swordmaster, it wouldn't be unreasonable to scour this entire area clean with a forbidden spell."

"Hahaha, a forbidden spell costs a million gold coins per cast; what an honor for us!" The voice replied with pure mockery.

"Mr. Rex," Start steered the conversation back, "as a protagonist, lacking any agency of your own—isn't that a bit inappropriate?"

The bandit leader pulled a long face. "Who says I lack agency? Aren't we negotiating right now?"

"Then what is your opinion?"

"My opinion is whatever the pee-pot mage's opinion is," the bandit leader answered.

The voice spoke up once more: "Don't bother trying to drive a wedge between us. Your efforts are in vain!"

"Heh," Start sneered. "Though I don't know who you are, your intentions are clearly extremely malicious. In your eyes, these bandits are nothing more than tools for your instigation."

"Bullshit!" The bandit leader jumped up in anger.

"Mr. Rex, you've lost three fingers now. How do you plan to wield a sword in the future?" Start struck right at the vital point.

The bandit leader scoffed dismissively. "In the future, I'll attach even more powerful divine fingers."

"In the future?" Start smiled. "Then let me ask you this: when you besieged us for so many days last time, you still couldn't take us down, ultimately letting us escape successfully. Is that how a protagonist is supposed to behave?"

"We got tricked by you lot last time!" the bandit leader raged. "Otherwise, you'd have been captured long ago. We've completely figured out all your tricks now; that was just special effects."

"Yet you still lost that time, didn't you?" Start pressed firmly.

"Stop spouting nonsense! Guards! Flick his balls two hundred times!" The bandit leader flew into a rage. A mob of bandits swarmed forward. Start wept bitter tears in his heart; as it turned out, stubbornly trying to act tough like Kevin yielded no good results.

Suddenly, that voice intervened to smooth things over: "Alright, stand down."

The pack of bandits proved surprisingly obedient. Start quickly adjusted his trousers. The voice continued, "Our conditions are very simple: we want to survive, and we want to develop. You said you agreed—that's great. But how do we make ourselves believe you've actually agreed? That requires plenty of proof! And a long time!"

Start fell silent while relaying the message to the parrot.

"How can we guarantee that the moment we release the hostages, your Swordmaster won't come out to slaughter us? Even if they give their verbal promise, they can easily go back on it. To be honest, as long as you slaughter us all to the last man, naturally no one will ever know you broke your promise, right? Taking a step back, even if a couple of people slip away and talk, no one will believe them," the voice reasoned with clear logic. "Therefore, firstly, we need time; secondly, we need written proof made public to the world; and thirdly, we need to transition."

"Bandits must be eradicated no matter what—that is the consensus of both the military and the outside world. That is something we cannot change for the time being. However, we can change our name and style ourselves as some down-and-out mercenary group. This incident can be framed as a minor friction with the military, followed by a formal official document broadcast to the world announcing that we have let bygones be bygones, thereby granting us a normal status," the voice poured out a torrent of words.

"Of course, the paperwork for all this will have to be handled by you. You're all generals; such a trivial matter shouldn't stump you. A month from now, we will release the hostages. You can place the entire hilly region under strict surveillance, and we won't be able to run anyway. During this period, we promise not to come out and raid, nor will we let them starve. What do you think?"

Start remained silent for a moment before speaking: "Do you really think you can escape just by doing this?" This remark clearly originated from the General's side.

"Of course we can," the voice sounded brimming with confidence. "We integrate into society and are no longer bandits—isn't this also a meritorious achievement for the military's suppression campaign? It benefits everyone." (To be continued.)