Hero Chapter 37: Time to Develop Looting (Patreon)

For adventurers, the unknown is usually what they fear most.

When the burly adventurer’s full-force punch was casually blocked by Keyaru, he realized—same “adventurer,” but the gap in strength was huge.

Keyaru clamped his hand on the man’s head. The brute tried to struggle free, only to find his arms wouldn’t lift at all, as if the muscles had atrophied—

And more than that:

With his core strength gone, his body slammed backward uncontrollably. He tried to writhe and found that even twitching was a luxury.

He understood at once…

“Magic!”

He wanted to warn his teammates, but his vocal cords had been ruined—no sound came out.

All he could do was stare at Keyaru, who had ended the fight as if swatting a fly, the scorn in his eyes turning to terror.

If only… he’d waited for a better chance, for Keyaru not to be here—would things have gone differently?

After destroying the leader, Keyaru didn’t rush to finish him off. Of course he knew the “leave no roots” rule—he’d read enough webnovels. But with prime material on hand to develop Looting, he wasn’t about to waste it. Before ending them, he’d squeeze out every drop of value. Feeling his mental power still ample, he looked past the fallen man to the Soma adventurers bristling ahead.

He didn’t say much; his actions already made it clear—he wouldn’t let any enemy walk.

Riding the boost from Transformation, and catching them flat-footed, he launched a full assault on the remaining three.

Things went nothing like they’d expected. They’d thought numbers alone would do it. But the party’s strongest, Drake, was dropped by Keyaru in a single exchange.

The scales tipped at once.

“What are you standing there for?!”

“You think you can run?”

One of the grunts, no confidence in melee, had already drawn a crossbow and backed off, sighting on Keyaru. The other two—resentful as they were—could only grit their teeth and engage.

At the same Level, fights are decided by magic, skills, technique, and stats—and one more critical factor:

Courage.

Once they saw their captain fall and the urge to flee crept in, the ending was set.

Keyaru’s technique was on par with the Level 2 Yamato Mikoto; with Transformation active, he could even suppress above his rank for short bursts. Against same-Level adventurers, it was a rout.

He managed his mana and didn’t spam skills, but the pressure never let up. He broke attacks as they came, slipped the crossbow bolts, and hunted openings—then dropped both melee foes with quick, clean finishes. To keep their bodies viable for Looting, he merely knocked them out cold.

“Just you left.”

The stamina drain from a high-intensity fight was inevitable. Keyaru closed on the archer trying to bolt, footsteps echoing in the hollow tunnel.

Closer, closer—gnawing at the man’s fraying nerves.

“D-Don’t come any closer!”

The archer’s hands shook on the stock. Seeing threats fail, he yanked the trigger; at ten meters, the bolt snapped loose with the full draw’s force.

Thwip!

The quarrel screamed through the air—faster than human reaction. Keyaru could only trust his instincts and twist aside. The gap was too short; even in motion, all he could do was keep it off vital spots. The bolt punched through the leather on his shoulder. Pain flared—but he didn’t tend to it. While the man reloaded, Keyaru was already there.

One crisp stroke—an arm fell. Blood jetted from the severed artery like a burst pipe.

With the archer neutralized, he scanned the area. As the adrenaline ebbed, the pain in his shoulder surged. Under the Soma men’s horrified stares, Keyaru gripped the embedded bolt and tore it free.

His first fight against adventurers—four on one. Getting hurt was expected. He had Heal as a safety net—just a bit of mana to pay.

“Didn’t feel that hard,” he said with a small shake of his head. “It’s the arrow in the shoulder—if Hestia finds out, that explanation’s going to be a pain.”

The fight was over.

Next up: developing Looting—and figuring out how to use it properly in DanMachi’s rules.

Ordinary fight? These Soma men would already be dead. As it was, he’d wring them dry first—then bury them somewhere out of the way.

With that thought, he looked at the still-conscious men sprawled on the ground. A bright, expectant smile bloomed on his fine-boned face.

“Good. Time to tally the loot!”

—

Lili had been ready to draw the hidden magic sword and fight to the death. In the end, the worry was needless—born of not trusting Keyaru’s strength enough.

She’d never imagined this kind of one-sided crush. The adventurers who bullied her, the ones she could only swallow her anger before—were like street vermin…

Kicked flat by Keyaru.

She could understand the despair of having no way to resist—yet for those who’d tormented her, she felt only release.

Most important of all:

In Keyaru, Lili saw hope of leaving the Soma Familia.

As for why he didn’t finish them off, she didn’t ask. Stepping to his side and seeing the nasty wound in his shoulder, her feelings turned complicated.

No doubt—the “save up and leave” plan had failed, and she was hunted by her own Familia. When every hope was crushed, Keyaru had felt like a dawn of salvation.

“Your… your shoulder—is it okay?”

She dug through the supporter’s pack for clean cloth and found nothing useful. Watching the blood still welling from his shoulder, she bit her lip, sliced a strip from her own clothes with a dagger, and handed it over, eyes apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I dragged you into this.”

“At least you realize it,” Keyaru said—he wasn’t shy about milking favors owed. Their whole interaction was a “seize your future” deal, after all. But when he glanced at the red cloth strip she’d offered, he frowned, shook his head, and pressed his palm to the wound.

“Heal.”

Soft light bloomed. Torn muscle and skin knit shut before her eyes, leaving not a scar—only a hole in the pauldron and shirt.

Lili watched, stunned, the disbelief in her gaze deepening.

“That… was your magic?”