Iron Blooded Hound-Chapter 5 - : Bullying The Boss....

Follow me.

Follow me.

The 9-year-old triplets of the Baskervilles, Hivero, Mivero, and Lovero started dragging him.

"Come with us."

Eight-year-old Vikir thought with his mouth shut.

In my childhood before returning, meeting these guys was as terrifying as meeting a god of death.

Decades later, these guys were also involved in his own execution.

Above all, these are warriors who will be so outstanding that they will be called 'The Baskeville's Trident' or 'Hugo Baskeville's Trident' in a decade or so.

Aren't they youngsters who will make great achievements for the Baskevilles?

So it was necessary to nip the buds in advance.

In order to devour the Baskevilles in the future.

"Hee. I'm afraid of you guys."

is this the right way to do it?

Vikir looked up and cried like a child who was scared.

As he said to the triplets scoffed arrogantly.

"Shouldn't we rather go to a place where no one is around?"

Then the triplets giggled.

"So you know what honor is,"

"Ah yes."

"Ah yes."

Beating in a place where there are many eyes is a nuisance even for triplets.

They would break Vikir's arms, cover his mouth, and drag him to a secluded place.

'Fang Castle' is a castle that has been built for a long time, and there are many secluded and nooks and crannies, like a building that follows the old architectural style.

Crossing the submerged cellar entrance, past an abandoned food warehouse and an unrepaired crack, up the spiral staircase.

The triplets were dragged into a secluded room in the hallway where they didn't wear their bikinis.

The captain, Hivero, said with a smile.

"If you scream, one place might get cut off. Well, if you go to the infirmary in time, you should be able to attach it."

"you can attach it."

"you can attach it."

I can't believe that at 9 years old, I pulled out a dagger from my waist and saw her smiling wickedly.

Are young children more cruel?

Children find amusement in removing the heads or wings of insects and crushing them.

Even regular children engage in this behavior, but the Baskerville children, needless to say, were far more advanced in their cruelty.

These three little devils surrounded Vikir.

"I heard you claimed to have dived for seven minutes in the River Styx? I couldn't help but laugh at that boast," said one of them.

"Laughed."

"Laughed."

Hivero nodded to the youngest, Lovero, who stood beside him.

Lovero smiled and nodded, then moved behind Vikir, covering his nose and mouth with both hands.

Hivero looked at Vikir's face and laughed maliciously.

"What about 7 minutes? If you can last for three minutes, I'll cut off my finger."

"I'll support you!"

"I'll support you!"

Low Bro applied even more pressure to Vikir's hand, preventing him from taking a breath.

I could sense the innocent malice in his tightly clasped hands, as if he wouldn't allow me to breathe freely.

Hivero and Middlebro are grinning, tightly holding their arms in an attempt to overpower Vikir.

But...

"What...?"

"Huh...?"

"Eh...?"

The triplets turn their heads, puzzled.

Because Vikir remains motionless, watching them intently.

"Hehehe, you want to hold on? You've got quite the spirit. Let's see how far it takes you."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

The triplets exert more force with their hands.

A minute passes like that.

Since Vikir doesn't even use his mana, he would be out of breath like a child.

"..."

But Vikir simply stands there, his eyes calm just like before.

"You're holding up pretty well, kid."

"Kid."

"Kid."

The triplets continue to tighten their grip, unaware that the smiles on their faces are slowly fading.

And it goes on for over two minutes.

The triplets stop talking for a moment.

The passage of time around Vikir, who remains standing, starts to feel too long.

"What's wrong with this kid? Isn't he breathing?"

"No?"

"No!"

Lovero shakes his head. Clearly, Vikir is holding his breath.

And three minutes pass.

Four minutes.

Five minutes.

Six minutes.

Seven minutes.

Eight minutes.

Nine minutes.

Ten minutes.

Vikir remains motionless.

In the meantime, the room is filled with an eerie silence.

At this point, the triplets, who were initially bullying, have their backs drenched in cold sweat.

If you were to actually hear them counting from one to sixty, you could sense their nervousness.

All the while, Vikir continues to stare at the triplets, calmly blinking his eyes.

...in a solemn silence.

Hivero tried to smile and motioned towards Lowbro.

"Jae, that's not funny. Release this guy."

"Release him."

"Release him."

Just as Lovero was about to take his hand away from Vikir's mouth.

"Keah!?"

A sudden noise erupted.

It wasn't the sound of Vikir struggling for breath.

Blood was pouring out from Lovero's index finger.

"...Twi."

Vikir spat out what he had in his mouth after chewing it a few times.

Then he grinned at the triplets in front of him.

"You said you were going to cut off my fingers?"

Vikir laughed, blood still in his mouth.

Upon seeing this, the triplets' faces turned pale for a moment.

Soon after, Hivero shouted, as if chewing and spitting out his words.

"...Joy! In that case, ha, I'm not scared at all!"

"...I'm not scared!"

"...Scared!"

The last remark was unsettling.

When Hivero and Mivero turned their heads, Lovero raised his hand and whimpered.

"My finger got cut off!"

The conversation among the triplets started to go off track.

Seeing blood was something familiar to the Baskeville children.

However, when it went beyond blood, torn flesh, and broken bones, even if it was their own, the story became a little different.

Like a trident, the guys who always moved together in the same direction began to play separately.

The eldest, Hivero, comforted the youngest, Lovero...

"Let's go."

"Uh-oh... okay. Hurry!"

Mivero carried Lovero.

Hivero quickly reached out and opened the door.

"Who gave you permission to leave?"

Vikir stood in front of him.

Hivero's expression turned stern.

"You are..."

But his distorted expression didn't change back.

Wham!

Vikir's fist flew in, breaking Hivero's nose and teeth.

Hivero lay on the floor, clutching his face.

...Ouch!

Mivero, who was standing there in a daze, got his jaw kicked by Vikir.

"What!?"

"Ow-"

"Sobbing..."

The triplets all cried out in pain and agony.

Vikir sat quietly in front of the door and spoke.

"If we don't get proper treatment within the next hour, you'll be permanently injured."

"..."

"But judging by my older brothers, I don't think I'll be able to leave this room today."

"..."

"Remember this day whenever it rains and your teeth, chin, and fingers ache."

The triplets glared at Vikir, filled with anger.

The cruel nature that the Baskevilles had nurtured for the past nine years didn't disappear.

"...But at least they're still children."

Vikir smiled.

There is no one who doesn't listen to reason.

If there's someone who doesn't listen to you even when you're at a disadvantage, you should question whether you're lacking something.

This was Hugo Baskeville's philosophy on childcare, and it was also the code of conduct for the entire Baskeville family.

"Ow!"

At least the eldest brother, Hivero, gathered his courage and attacked again.

But...

Thud!

Hivero's dagger didn't draw a single drop of blood, even though it was stabbed into Vikir's body.

"...Huh?"

Hivero looked confused.

When the dagger touched Vikir's chest, it seemed to turn black, but it quickly returned to normal.

Vikir achieved complete sword invulnerability at just 8 years old.

Puck!

Similar to the sound of a dagger being inserted.

But the outcome was different.

Hivero felt like all his teeth were shattered as he sat down.

It only took two punches.

walgrak... walgrak... Garr-

The sound of tears, mucus, saliva, blood, air bubbles, and teeth mixing in the mouth.

A dark shadow of Vikir loomed over the trembling triplets with their injuries.

... klang!

A dagger landed in the midst of the triplets.

But no one dared to touch it.

Everyone instinctively knew.

'... If you grab that, you'll face even harsher consequences.'

The triplets knelt on the floor, unable to lift their heads, dripping with blood, tears, saliva, and sweat.

All three had wet pants, as if they had urinated.

At that moment.

Vikir spoke.

"Only one of you will leave this room alive."

The triplets' expressions changed as they looked at each other.

"who?"

"who?"

"who?"

Vikir's response was simple.

"It's for you to decide."

Suddenly, the triplets' attention shifted to the dagger in the center.

... Great!

Baskerville's trident began to crack from within.

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