Lena occasionally struck the men in front of her with precision, and some of them began to talk—especially when she hit the gunshot wounds on their legs.
She got the information she needed. The total number of bandits in their group was 25.
Their group was called the Forest Thorn Gang. They operated silently and controlled about five human villages around their base.
Each village was required to send tribute to the group in order to stay safe. The tribute could be anything—money, food, or goods. But they clearly preferred money over anything else.
Lena smiled. She had more than enough information. What happened to them next—punishment or imprisonment—was now up to the villagers.
She and Gideon wouldn't intervene in that matter.
Gideon was elsewhere, checking to make sure the village was safe from any further threats. He turned and saw the villagers gathering together, beginning to form a small local security squad.
The squad was meant to deal with problems like this and help restore order in the village. If they didn't form it quickly, the next attack could destroy everything.
Slowly, the village began to return to a more stable condition. Gideon walked over to the seven wounded bandits, now standing next to Lena. Both of them stared down at the group.
"What are we going to do with them?" Lena asked. Gideon shook his head.
"I don't know."
A man from the village walked up and stood beside Gideon. Gideon and Lena turned to him as he came with a friend, both wanting to know the status of the seven men.
"Are you taking them with you?" the man asked.
"Do you have a better idea?" Gideon replied.
"We could execute them," the man said confidently, pointing toward an old gallows that hadn't been used in ages.
"That's horrifying," Lena muttered in English.
"Don't you have a prison or something? Why go straight to killing them?"
"Unfortunately, no. Building and maintaining a prison takes money," the man answered.
"He's right. If we let them go, they'll be a future threat. But if we keep them locked up, the villagers will have to pay to feed them," Lena added.
Lena thought realistically. If she were a villager, she would've voted for execution too. It was cheaper, quicker, and solved the problem.
"Besides, this is medieval times. Punishments like that are common," Lena explained.
Gideon stayed silent. He still believed that killing someone shouldn't be so easy. He wanted to show that there were better punishments than taking a life.
But an old saying lingered in his mind—when in Rome, do as the Romans do.
He and Lena were outsiders. Even though they were the ones who defeated the bandits, the village's laws still applied here.
"I'll leave them to you."
"Understood, sir," the man replied.
They dragged the bandits off to a wooden cage, where they'd be imprisoned for one night before being hanged the next day.
A middle-aged woman approached with her daughter—the same girl from the carriage the night before.
She was the village leader, 57 years old, a widow since her husband's death, and the mother of two. Her first child had died in the war, and her second was her daughter standing beside her now.
"I'm Noele. I'm the head of this village," Noele said, bowing her head.
"Thank you for helping us defeat the bandits. We owe you a great debt."
"Tell me, what do you want?" Noele asked, extending her hand.
Gideon smiled. He hadn't killed the bandits for a reward—it was purely to save people. But Noele had come to offer him a gift.
He didn't know how to respond.
"There's no need. We did it because we felt it was our duty as soldiers," Gideon replied.
"You're too kind, sir," Noele said.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a green plate. Everyone gasped. A green plate was a special kind of entry permit.
Unlike the gray ones, the green plate granted access to all cities in the Moko Kingdom.
"Mother? Why are you giving him a green plate?" Silva, Noele's daughter, asked.
"I'm too old to travel far. You already have your plate. What use is mine?" Noele asked with a smile.
"He needs it more than I do."
Gideon lifted his hand and took the green plate. It had a local script engraved on it, meaning "entry permit." Lena looked at it with awe.
"You don't have to pay anything. I'm giving it to you for free because you saved our village," Noele explained.
She nodded in approval, smiling widely, saying she accepted the gift. With this, they didn't need to register as adventurers or form a party.
"Thank you, Ms. Noele."
"Go back to your inn. You must be tired."
"Wait!" Silva called out, stopping Gideon and Lena.
They paused and turned around, both of them locking eyes on Silva. The young woman stared at them closely.
"W-Was it you… who saved me?" Silva asked.
"Saved you? What do you mean?" Gideon asked.
Lena smiled and looked straight at Gideon. He didn't want anyone knowing his identity—especially not those he saved. He didn't want people feeling indebted to him.
"There was a magic attack that saved me from those two rapists. I saw your attack—it looked just like that one," Silva said.
Gideon sighed. He removed his magazine, nearly empty, pulled out one round, and tossed it forward. It was to prove that his attack wasn't magic—it was bullets and gear.
"My attack wasn't magic. That much is clear."
"Then… you're not him?" Silva asked, disappointed.
He nodded, eyes sharp and piercing, fully acting out the lie. Gideon and Lena returned to the inn to rest for the night.
Noele stepped closer to Silva and watched her daughter grip the piece of metal in her palm.
"You'll meet him one day, Silva."
"I don't believe what he said."
"I'm sure the one who saved me… was them," Silva whispered.
***
The next morning.
"Gideon, wake up!"
"You've gotta see this," Lena said.
Gideon's peaceful morning sleep was suddenly cut short as Lena stood in front of him. He yawned and asked what was so urgent.
"Kingdom soldiers have arrived," Lena said quietly.
Gideon's eyes shot wide open. He sprang to his feet and rushed to the window. Outside, he saw a Moko squad—30 men—arriving in the village. Noele was speaking with one of them.
"What's happening?" Gideon muttered. Lena shook her head.
KNOCK!
There was a knock on Gideon's door. Lena grabbed her pistol, while Gideon moved to open the door.
On the count of three, he flung it open, Lena ready to fire.
Standing there was the inn's receptionist, hands raised at Lena's command.
They sighed in relief, thinking it might've been a Moko soldier.
"It's you."
"What's going on?" Lena asked.
"I'm here with a message from Madame Noele," the receptionist said.
"What is it?"
"I'm supposed to help you leave the village," she said.
Lena turned and saw Gideon staring directly into the woman's eyes. With the amount of ammo he had, it was impossible to take them all on.
"How much ammo do you have?" Lena asked.
"Ten. One missed, seven hits."
"We can't take them all out," Lena replied, doing the math.
To take on 30 Moko soldiers, they'd need M4 rifles and one magazine each—30 rounds. Ideally, they'd have at least one box of extra mags for post-combat cleanup.
Right now, they only had their M17 handguns, each with 18-round magazines. Combined, they had about 28 rounds left.
That wasn't enough. And they didn't even know if the M17 rounds could penetrate the soldiers' metal armor. They hadn't tested that yet.
Gideon heard conflict breaking out at the village center. He peeked out the window again and saw Moko soldiers beginning their search and sweep.
"What's your plan?" Lena asked.
"Escaping is off the table once they've started moving. We have no choice but to fight here."
"I hope your hand-to-hand skills aren't worse than mine," Lena replied.
"Are you joking? I could take down a guy like you, Captain."
"Of course. I'm glad to hear it."