Michael slowly raised both hands, stepping forward cautiously, keeping a safe distance from the bandits.
The sudden sight of this unknown stranger made the bandits tense up instantly.
One of them bared his teeth and growled,
—"What are you, some kind of wizard? Where the hell did you pop out from?"
Michael quickly shook his head.
—"No, no—I'm no wizard. I'm a Street Trader… just a merchant. I came here only for business."
[Linguistic Comprehension (Basic) activated]
→ His words flowed naturally, his accent smoothened by the system.
One of the bandits laughed mockingly.
"Do you take us for idiots? What merchant dresses like that? And wanders alone in the middle of the forest? Don't try to fool us."
Though their tone was aggressive and weapons were pointed at him, they hadn't attacked yet. Michael noticed the hesitation in their eyes—as if they still hadn't decided whether to kill him or wait.
On the other hand, Michael himself was a bit nervous. The five of them looked powerful. Sure, he knew karate and had combat experience, but these men belonged to another era—another world—their fighting style was completely different. A chilling thought crossed his mind—if things went badly, he could very well die here.
"Hey, Sista, maybe you could help me out a little? They don't look like they want to trade. Can't you give me some combat skill—or at least a great weapon?"
[Sorry, Host. I cannot do that. But you don't need to worry about your safety. If they do anything dangerous, I'll handle it. You are 100% safe.]
Michael felt irritated. Five medieval bandits stood before him, and yet the damn system swore he was safe? For the first time, he doubted it.
Just then one of the bandits narrowed his eyes.
—"Hey! Who are you talking to? Don't you dare start chanting spells. Do it, and I'll put an arrow through your skull."
An archer already had his bow drawn, arrow aimed straight at Michael.
Michael dropped his hands in a rush, voice laced with fear.
—"No, no—I wasn't chanting! I swear, I'm just a Street Trader. I only want to do business!"
The bandits exchanged curious glances.
—"Hmm… If you really are a merchant, then where's your merchandise?"
Michael froze for a moment.
Tch, I didn't even bring my bag… what the hell do I show them? Ah—maybe this will do. Something they've never seen before.
He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. Then he flicked it on and showed them.
"You can buy this if you want."
As the red flame flickered to life, the bandits' eyes widened in shock. Even the two tied-up captives behind them stared in stunned silence.
"Is… is that a magical item? You are a wizard!"
"How can fire appear so easily?!" another exclaimed, eyes bulging.
Michael calmly flicked it again, the flame dancing.
"See? Don't be afraid. This is called a lighter. With it, you can start a fire anywhere—easily. If you want, I can sell it to you for cheap, since you'd be my very first customers."
The bandits looked at one another, the greed in their eyes impossible to miss.
"Hmph. I've never seen anything like it. We could sell this on the black market for a fortune."
Michael smiled politely.
"Of course. Once you buy it, you're free to do whatever you want. I'll let it go for a very cheap price."
But one of the bandits suddenly burst into a harsh laugh.
"Huh? Who said anything about buying?"
In a flash, a bandit charged forward with a massive sword, swinging it down at Michael.
If I strike before he casts a spell, I'll cut him down. Wizards are physically weak—that's the easiest way to kill them, the bandit thought with a cruel grin.
Michael raised his gun, but the man was too fast—already upon him.
That's when a system screen flared before Michael's eyes.
[Host's life in danger. Defense Protocol activated.]
A faint blue energy barrier snapped into existence around him. The sword crashed against it—but couldn't break through. Instead, a violent shockwave erupted, blasting the bandit backward like a rag doll.
Everyone froze in disbelief.
Even Michael.
[Defense successfully executed. Host unharmed.]
[Dimensional Energy Consumed: 0.2%]
Just moments earlier, Michael had thought his head would be sliced off. Now, a glowing shield was fading away around him, as if it had finished its work by proving its existence.
"Damn… that was unbelievably cool. But this thing also consumes Dimensional Energy?"
The system's calm voice returned—
[Yes, Host. This is your defensive mechanism. Each activation consumes Dimensional Energy. It is not free. As a trader, your primary profession doesn't require direct combat or destructive power. But whenever your life is in danger, this defense will automatically activate. Keep in mind—the stronger your enemy's attack, the more Dimensional Energy will be consumed.]
Michael let out a slow breath. At least in this strange world, he wasn't going to die so easily. As long as his energy lasted, this shield would protect him.
But for the four remaining bandits, the scene was something else entirely.
Their comrade—usually the strongest and most reckless among them—had been knocked unconscious in a single blow.
"Wh-What the hell was that?"
"He didn't chant a single word! And yet… such powerful magic—defense and offense together!"
"Oh God… he must be the Black Witch," one whispered.
"Witch?"
"You've never heard the rumors? The witch that haunts this forest."
"But I heard it was a woman! This guy's clearly a man."
"Then maybe it shapeshifts! That's it—the witch in disguise!"
Now their eyes fixed on Michael as if he were no longer human, but some terrifying beast—someone who could kill without even uttering a word.
Michael gave a small smile and shook his head. To him, it was just a harmless gesture, but to the bandits it looked like the cruel sneer of the Grim Reaper himself.
All four swallowed hard.
Michael spoke confidently,
"So… what do you think now? I trust you won't make the mistake of attacking me again. I only want to do business. Think of this as a golden opportunity for you."
But in their ears, his words carried an entirely different meaning: This is your last chance. Run now, or die.
They didn't hesitate. Grabbing their unconscious comrade, they bolted into the trees—muttering frantic apologies as they vanished into the forest, desperate that he wouldn't chase them down.
Michael stood still, his face filled only with confusion.
"What the—"
[Warning: First Potential Customers lost.]