Praise the Orc!-Chapter 139: Papillon

The source of this c𝐨ntent is 𝐟𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘄𝗲𝐛𝐧𝐨𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝗰𝐨𝐦

“Nothing lasts forever,” muttered Crockta. He was at the age when he understood the inevitability of change in the world, yet he couldn’t help but feel bitter about the truth. “The world...and people change.”

He was walking listlessly back to his lodging from ‘Oppa, Where Are You Going?’ pub. He drank a sip of the cheap beer he bought on the streets as he whistled and drunkenly staggered into a back alley.

“You are right.”

Crockta turned around at the sudden voice. A drunk man was taking a swig of liquor. “Nothing lasts forever,” he repeated.

Crockta assessed him with his drunken eyes. The man had a star on his forehead and was a respectable high-level player based on his aura and nice clothing. He could even be more than a high-level player; though for Crockta, it made little difference. He didn’t really distinguish between players based on their levels because he was way stronger than them.

“Did someone betray you too?” asked the drunken man.

“Betrayed...”

Crockta had expected the Information Guild to maintain its cool atmosphere. He never doubted for a second that the pub would forever remain a refuge for men, but the continued deficit had transformed the pub. There was no longer a trace of its old self. Yet, could he call it betrayal?

‘Life has always been unpredictable.’

He hadn’t been betrayed. He had just passed a segment of life. He was no longer a child who had big expectations and was inevitably disappointed. He was an adult who could calmly acknowledge the ways of the world.

Instead of replying to the question, Crockta asked, “Who betrayed you?”

He knew the man had been waiting for the question. Drunk men struck up conversations with strangers with the hope that someone would lend them a listening ear.

“Yes, I’ve been betrayed,” he replied. “When I was successful, everyone wanted to be around me, but once I fell rock bottom, no one was by my side.”

Crockta nodded. It was a common story. People who played with the stock market often experienced drastic financial downturns.

“I thought she would help me get back on my feet if I fell, but she kicked and crushed me. She never really loved me.”

‘Ah, he was talking about a breakup, not money.’ Crockta sighed. “Form is emptiness, and the very emptiness is form...”

The man dropped his head as if he didn’t hear what Crockta had just said.

“But I still can’t hate her...”

“Cheer up.” Crockta wanted to console him, but he didn’t know what to say. So he said the most appropriate and meaningless thing he could say to someone who was going through a breakup. “There are lots of fish in the sea.”

The man’s shoulders trembled in laughter. He staggered and leaned against the wall to find his balance.

“Ah, I want to get wasted tonight.”

“You already seem pretty drunk,” said Crockta.

“Do you want to grab a drink together?”

Crockta thought about it. Tiyo and Anor were probably asleep by now. He nodded. “That would be nice.”

He wasn’t sleepy and craved another drink.

On his way to ‘Oppa, Where Are You Going?’, he had expected to drink all night like a real man, but the pub was no longer the place he knew. Thus, he decided to go along with this stranger’s suggestion.

With their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, they trod into the darkness.

Crockta later discovered that the man had a surprisingly high tolerance for alcohol.

***

“Ugh...” Crockta woke up with a pounding headache.

He looked up and saw an unfamiliar ceiling with exposed concrete. He slowly got up and sifted through his memories. He remembered drinking with the man last night, but he couldn’t clearly remember what happened afterward. He drank too much, and when he woke up, he was in some place he didn’t recognize.

He was inside a prison cell.

Crockta calmly sat on the edge of his bed and looked at the sturdy steel bars blocking him. He caressed his chin. He was empty-handed. He couldn’t find his precious Ogre Slayer. He still had the Belt of Despair at his waist because it couldn’t part from him, but he had lost anything that could be a weapon.

He closed his eyes and recalled his last memory.

He had continued to drink with that mysterious man, who had rambled on about his past lover and how beautiful and amazing she was. Then, like every drunkard post-breakup, he started to badmouth her for turning her back on him.

Crockta listened to all of his lamentations as he drank. Then, the man invited Crockta to his lodging because it was getting late. He suggested Crockta come over, so they could share a few more drinks. Crockta agreed and followed him, but he didn’t remember what happened afterward.

“I’m a logical orc. Hmm, let’s think about it step by step,” muttered Crockta. Sometimes talking to himself helped him organize his thoughts.

“Did that guy approach me last night to deceive me?”

‘No, he seemed genuine.’

It wasn’t possible to fake such a pitiful attitude about love. The man had repeatedly teared up while calling his ex-lover’s name but would do a complete 180 and suddenly cuss about her, only to return to reminiscing about her.

His pathetic attitude could only be from someone who genuinely had a lot of unresolved feelings about a past love.

“Then was I kidnapped on the way to the man’s house?”

Crockta searched through his memories. He faintly remembered clinking glasses with the man inside a room. With a flushed face, the man wrapped his arm around Crockta’s shoulder and said that despite losing his woman, it was an honor to drink with such a cool orc.

Crockta had definitely gone to his house, but something happened afterward. Was he ambushed or...?

Crockta approached the steel bars. He looked around his surroundings. He thought he saw a shadow moving in the light across the hallway. Was the ward over there?

Crockta shouted, “Hello? I just woke up. Can someone come and explain? Ahem!”

He cleared his throat. His breath smelled like alcohol from drinking excessively last night. Was that man from last night okay?

The sound of footsteps grew louder. Crockta returned to his bed and sat down. He had to give the impression of composure because he didn’t know what kind of situation he was in. He even chided the person approaching him in the distance.

“You are so slow.”

Of course, he was actually very calm, not just pretending. He was intrigued by the whole situation. He was a warrior who had reached the realm of Heroes and a chieftain who brought peace to the north. He was a powerhouse unfazed by adversity.

“I’m sorry.”

But Crockta couldn’t help but gasp in shock. He had really missed the mark this time. The man standing in front of him was the pathetic dude who talked shit about his past lover while drinking with Crockta last night. The man stood outside the bars with other players.

“It’s a shame that things turned out like this,” said the man, deadpan. He was cold and business-like.

Was that his true self? Crockta grinned. Although the man had shown his vulnerable side because he was drunk and heartbroken, he usually put on a cold and objective face in front of others. He skimmed over Crockta with a blank face and nodded.

“What a coincidence,” he remarked.

“Did you get over your girlfriend already?” asked Crockta.

Crockta tried to provoke him, but he refused to give in.

“I can’t believe you are really Crockta. The Conqueror of the North drinking by himself at a back alley...you don’t live up to your reputation.”

Crockta calmly pieced together the information he had. He was no longer just a nameless orc warrior. Because of Laney’s videos, his appearance was well-known among players, and the system-wide message about Crockta had elevated his reputation. He was known as a hero who killed the crazy northern chieftain and an adventurer who broke down the northern barrier with Shakhan.

Most knew Crockta’s name. Kenzo had been the exception.

“If it weren’t for the clan member who recognized your face, I would have just assumed you were a drunk, lonely orc.”

“You knew who I was and chose to lock me up?”

“Of course.”

The fact that they imprisoned Crockta even though they knew who he was meant that they had a reason to hate him.

“We are going to issue a warning to Rebirth or whatever they are called.”

The Rebirth Brotherhood was an organization created because of Crockta. Overnight, Crockta had enlightened three rude players who were now trying to change the ways of Elder Lord.

Thus, they didn’t have a good relationship with other rude players or clans. And the prime adversary clan was...

“We will teach them that any target of the Heaven and Earth Clan will end up like you.”

The self-proclaimed most powerful clan, the Heaven and Earth Clan, was known for ruthlessly pushing their agenda and wiping out those who opposed them.

“I will introduce myself again, my name is Edgar, and I manage the Maillard branch of the Heaven and Earth Clan.”

“What? You are the pathetic dude who got dumped by a girl and cried all night?”

The clan members looked bewildered at what Crockta had said as if Edgar would never do such a thing. Edgar’s face twitched in annoyance, but he quickly regained his composure.

“It’s pointless to engage in conversation with an NPC like you. We will execute you as soon as possible. Just wait. We will send your head to your Rebirth friends.” novelbuddy.(c)om

Crockta shrugged and tilted his head in mock confusion. “NPC? What does that mean? Why do those cursed by the stars keep calling us NPCs?”

“You don’t need to know. It just means that you are fake. It doesn’t matter if you die.”

“It doesn’t matter if I die? Your moral standards leave much to be desired.”

Crockta got up and walked up to the steel bars.

The clan members took a step back, but Edgar stood where he was and stared straight back at Crockta. Crockta looked down at him and smirked.

“As you said, I’m Crockta. Did you really think you guys could handle me, the Conqueror of the North?”

“...”

“With these puny steel bars.” Crockta grabbed the bars with both hands and exerted his strength with bulging muscles.

The faces of the clan members turned pale as the gap between the steel bars gradually widened. Crockta had managed to bend the ridiculously sturdy steel bars with his strength. The gap between the steel bars was 1 centimeter wider than before. As expected of a monstrous orc warrior.

“...Argh!” Crockta mustered all of his strength and managed to separate the bars by an additional 0.5 centimeters. With astounding strength, Crockta had managed to widen the gap between the dense steel bars by a total of 1.5 centimeters.

“I-I’m this strong. Are you guys impressed?” asked Crockta as he rubbed his sore hands on his thighs.

Edgar nodded and acknowledged his strength. “Amazing. The bars are made out of extremely rare and strong steel that has been strengthened by magic and can even imprison an ogre, but you have managed to widen it to a fingernail’s width. I will acknowledge your strength.”

“If I work harder, I can widen it up to 2 centimeters, so if you don’t want that to happen, treat me with respect.”

“Will do. Steel bars of such caliber are hard to come by. Please refrain from damaging them further.”

The clan members whispered something to Edgar, who nodded. “Something came up. See you later.”

Edgar and the Heaven and Earth Clan members exited the room. Crockta stood in front of the steel bars until their shadows completely disappeared and then dragged himself back to his bed and plopped down.

Then, in a dejected voice, he muttered, “If only I had my sword...”