Free Mercenary Road by Hideyuki Kikuchi

looked puzzled. Strider’s eyes were wide. The killing lust had vanished without a trace—in part because the two warriors were reluctant to fight D.
    “For the time being, we’ll stick together.”
    Strider gave a hearty nod at D’s words, hiding how shaken he was. “Fine, as long as we’re clear on that. Now, let’s go somewhere and hear her tale.”
    “I already told you to take me back to town!” the girl said in an exasperated manner. Apparently the killing lust had broken D’s spell over her.
    “How about introducing yourself first?” Stanza said, glaring at the young woman.
    “I’m Irene. Irene Slocum.”
    “You’re part of the farming family that sent word to the mayor about the mercenaries coming back to life?”
    “That’s right.”
    At this point, the same thought popped into all three heads: Wasn’t the girl concerned about her family?
    “At any rate, we should get moving,” Strider said, looking at the smoldering remains of the factory.
    “Not far from here, there’s an emergency bunker in case of things like tornadoes or volcanoes. I don’t think anyone would have any complaints if we let ourselves in.”
    —
    The high end of the bunker where the entrance was located was a pile of cyclopean stones. Its door was an iron plate. A heavy lock hung on it.
    “We’ve got trouble. The lock is keyed to fingerprints,” Strider clucked.
    Such locks weren’t extremely rare, and they were used from time to time in important places like storehouses for a village’s food or treasure. The fingerprint that opened it would belong to the acting mayor, and if he or she died, the fingerprint would be updated.
    “This chain’s too heavy—I guess we’ve got no choice but to blow it, eh?” Strider continued. “The combat jeep’s a loaner from the town of Bossage, but it’s carrying some dynamite.”
    An exquisite hand reached out in front of the warrior—D’s left hand. The other three saw it close around the lock. Their eyes were saying that he was an idiot and this would never work. Even after they heard the lock click, the gleam of doubt didn’t immediately fade from their eyes.
    Ignoring the dumbly staring trio, D took off the lock and chain, and then effortlessly opened the iron door.
    “Are dhampirs freaking monsters or what?” Strider could be heard muttering behind the Hunter’s back.
    The bunker had a central chamber large enough for a good three hundred people to sleep there, plus stores of food and water, and toilets. While this was the Frontier, assistance from other towns or villages would still reach them within ten days.
    In the central chamber, Irene began to tell them her story. Although it was obvious that she wanted to go back to town right away, she hadn’t been able to sway the other three.
    According to the girl, about thirty minutes before he sent word to Bossage, her father was making his morning rounds when he spotted odd troops coming down the highway and raced back. After sending word to town, he’d loaded his family into a trailer and fled, leaving one of them behind.
    “Me,” Irene said in a self-deprecating fashion.
    “Why, were you too slow or something?”
    “I guess so.”
    “That sure was cold of your family. I don’t care if they were in a hurry—they should’ve noticed right off they were shy one person. And they didn’t come back for you?”
    “I guess not.”
    Strider said mockingly, “I don’t suppose you’d be the black sheep of the family by any chance, would you?”
    “Oh, you’re right on that account. But what’s it to you? I’ve still got a home and a family, anyway. At least I’m not some killer vagrant going around murdering people for money!”
    “Come again?” Strider growled, the look in his eye changing.
    Though Irene was obviously frightened, she didn’t back away. “You got a problem with me?” she replied, baring her teeth.
    This wasn’t the sort of thing the average farm girl would do. But if she were average,