ITDG 05

ITDG

Posted by Alex, Released on October 19, 2025

Chapter 5

The sky was pitch black—no stars in sight.

Below it, a line of torches mounted along the wooden palisade cast a dim light over the small village.

They were supposed to arrive before sunset, but Tom’s injured ankle had slowed them down.

Unable to watch any longer, Dermo ended up dragging Volgor’s corpse by himself.

“Who goes there? Identify yourselves!”

A guard shouted from atop the palisade, and the others pulled their bowstrings taut.

Tom, limping forward with both hands raised, shouted back with all his might.

“We’re the mercenaries who went out this morning to hunt the man-eating wolf!”

The guard squinted, studying Tom’s face. Then he gave an order to his men.

“Open the gate!”

Up on the palisade, the guards moved quickly, and soon the heavy log gate creaked open.

Following Tom, Dermo stepped inside the village, dragging the demon’s body behind him.

The guards murmured amongst themselves when they saw the corpse trailing behind.

“Hey, where are the others? I thought there were four of you?”

Tom didn’t answer—just gave a silent look. The guard frowned.

“Damn those devil bastards…”

The sound of the guard grinding his teeth could be heard all the way down from the palisade.

He seemed to harbor a particularly strong hatred toward demons.

Even more than the other guards.

If he knew I was half-demon, he’d lose his mind.

Dermo was glad he’d followed Tom’s advice and kept the eyepatch on. Without stopping, he followed Tom deeper into the village.

Silverluke—home to about two hundred people.

Bigger than I thought.

Seeing the place in person after only viewing it through a monitor, the village felt far larger.

Houses clustered tightly around the central square, spreading outward.

As they moved toward the outskirts, a lone two-story building came into view.

A crooked sign hung above its entrance.

James Inn.

It would be Dermo’s lodging for a while.

“Dermo, leave the demon’s body outside for now.”

Tom looked back down the path they had come. Dermo turned and nodded.

“Got it.”

The road behind them was stained with demon blood. Most of it had drained out on the way here, but dragging it inside would still turn the floor into a bloody mess.

Creeeak—

As Tom opened the door, a loud noise echoed. Dermo stepped in after him.

Inside wasn’t spacious—just four tables total.

Only two of them were occupied: one with five men, the other with three.

Weapons rested against the tables beside them.

Mercenaries.

The rough, drunken kind.

Lantern light reflected off their red, alcohol-flushed faces.

A small village like this couldn’t afford more than a dozen mercenaries.

Tom’s gaze turned toward one table.

Five men were seated around it, drinking and playing cards.

“Tom! You’re back!”

Among the men clad in cheap armor, one in light clothing waved cheerfully, then turned back to his cards.

Dermo looked at his face.

James.

His square jaw was as memorable as ever—the owner of this inn.

Whatever was so funny, the men laughed until they clutched their stomachs.

Tom limped closer.

“What’s so funny?”

He dragged a chair from the next table and sat down. One mercenary turned to explain.

“Well, you see, this bastard—”

“Sorry to cut in on your fun, but I’ve got business with James. You don’t mind, right?”

“Uh…?”

Tom’s cold tone froze the man mid-sentence.

The others exchanged glances—Tom’s energy was different. Heavy. Dangerous.

“Not at all.”
“Yeah, go ahead. It’s Tom, after all.”
“Cards can wait. Handle your business first.”
“Thanks.”

In the world of mercenaries, might made right.

The weaker ones always bowed to strength—and here, Tom was the strong one.

Of course, to Dermo’s eyes, Tom was still nothing more than a rookie who could barely handle a one-star demon.

James laid his cards down and sighed.

“Is it that urgent? If it’s about the job, can’t we talk later? I’m just getting into the mood here.”

Tom twitched an eyebrow and glared.

“In the mood? You nearly got me killed with your bad intel.”

“What are you talking about?”

The smile faded from James’s face.

“See for yourself.”

Tom jerked his chin toward the door.

The mercenaries nearby, overhearing, began whispering.

“Now that he mentions it, where are the others?”
“Yeah, where’s the rest of the crew?”
“I saw a guy with an eyepatch—thought it was Jack, but guess not.”

When mercenaries don’t return from a job, there’s only one reason.

They died.

Everyone here knew that.

“…Hmph.”

James’s expression hardened as he walked toward the door. All eyes followed.

Creak—

He passed Dermo and pushed the door open.

The man stared quietly outside.

From his seat, one merc tilted his head to look through the doorway—then shouted.

“Is that… a demon?!”

Everyone’s eyes widened. Even the group at the other table turned to look.

“Yeah!”
“Looks like a one-star Volgor!”
“How the hell did they…?”

James closed the door and returned, his face pale.

The job he’d given them was to hunt a man-eating wolf—so why was a demon lying outside?

“The others…”

He didn’t need an answer; he already knew it.

“They’re dead. All of them.”

“…”

“The reward is three gold.”

At the number, James stammered.

“W-wait! That’s ten times the original pay! You can’t just demand that much!”

“You think the bounty for a man-eating wolf and a demon should be the same?”

“Well, no… but a Volgor’s worth about one gold at best…”

“You nearly got us killed with your wrong information, and now you’re saying you won’t compensate us?”

Tom’s voice grew louder.

The other mercenaries started whispering among themselves.

“Going after wolves and running into a demon? That’s messed up.”
“Damn. The ones who died must be cursing from the afterlife.”
“They were good guys, too…”

The room’s mood shifted.

Moments ago, laughter—now grim silence.

James could feel their doubt pressing in.

“…Two gold. How about that?”

“Three.”

“…”

James bit his lip.

“My leg’s busted thanks to that demon, and I still see my comrades begging for help before they died. Three gold covers the physical and mental damage… plus the demon hide.”

James knew he had no choice.

He’d lost the mercenaries’ trust—and trust was his livelihood. Without it, his business would die.

Two gold was already a lot—two months’ wages for an average villager—but it wasn’t enough to fix his reputation.

“…Fine.”

“Damn. He’s really paying three gold?”
“Three gold in one day… not bad, Tom.”
“Guess it’s fair enough.”
“Fair? If you think it’s fair, go make love to a Volgor yourself and see how it feels.”

One mercenary pulled down his scarf, revealing a long scar splitting his mouth from a demon attack.

He clearly didn’t think the pay was generous.

But the others’ reactions told James he’d made the right call.

The dead were already forgotten.

“Good. Have the three gold ready by tomorrow morning.”

Tom nodded, satisfied.

“So how’d you kill it, anyway? Even you shouldn’t be strong enough to take down a demon.”

James asked, sighing. Tom tilted his head toward Dermo.

“If it weren’t for him, I’d be dead too.”

James followed his gaze.

“Oh? Never seen you before. You must be pretty skilled, huh?”

He looked Dermo up and down.

Hard to believe someone so ordinary-looking could slay a demon.

Aside from his handsome features and golden hair, the only notable thing was the eyepatch.

Standing next to Tom, he even looked weaker.

But James had no reason not to believe Tom’s word.

“First time meeting and you’re staring pretty openly, aren’t you?”

“Ah—my apologies.”

Dermo approached the table where James sat.

“I heard you’ve been having demon trouble nearby. I can take care of it for you.”

James’s eyebrow twitched—he had been searching for a capable mercenary for that very reason.

He was about to speak when—

“Pfft—hahaha! You? Take care of demons?”

“Hey! Sit down!”

One of the mercs from the other table pushed his friends aside and stumbled over, clearly drunk.

He slung an arm around Dermo’s shoulder.

“Tom, if you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable! Ugh, my head… This scrawny kid? He looks like some clueless noble’s son!”

“If you’re drunk, then shut up and get lost before you regret it.”

Tom shot him a sharp glare.

“Regret it? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

The drunk raised his cup—

Smack!

Dermo caught his wrist midair.

Right… this guy.

A faint window appeared before Dermo’s eyes.

[Name: Bendy]
Reputation: 0
Class: Mercenary
Strength: 6 Stamina: 7
Agility: 6 Intelligence: 3
Skills:
Info: Becomes a dog when drunk. Avoid provoking him if possible.

Ah, Bendy.

There’s always one like him—the guy who picks a fight with the protagonist.

“You bastard. Let go!”

Bendy swung his other hand toward Dermo’s face—

[Skill: Agile Movement activated.]

Dermo tilted his head slightly, dodging easily. His golden hair shimmered in the lamplight.

“Already trapped in this damned game, and now this idiot’s testing me…” he muttered under his breath.

Then he twisted Bendy’s wrist sharply.

Bones creaked as Bendy grimaced in pain.

“Urgh…”

“Thanks for volunteering.”

[Skill: Unnatural Joints activated.]