There is No Escaping the Hero Interlude 1

There is No Escaping the Hero

Interlude: Solo Part 1

Rewinding time to when they were still on their journey towards the Kingdom of Andreia with Schutz.

“…”

A sudden urge struck within Solo.

“…Alright.”

『What’s up, Partner?』

Today, they were staying in a city that felt like a moderately prosperous trade hub. The inn wasn’t high-class, but compared to damp ground or rock-hard futons, it was far better.
He had no particular complaints. The food was delicious too.
Schutz had laughed, saying, “This was a good pick.”

At times like this, it suddenly comes.

“Pops.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going for a little walk, so hold onto this guy for me.”

Toss, Solo threw something long and thin.

『Eh?』

“Huh?”

It was the Holy Sword Saintroll, aka Demonic Sword Sein Troll-kun.

“Well then, take care.”

Just like that, he slipped out of the second-floor window, and Solo’s whereabouts became unknown. The one person and one sword left behind could only watch him go in bewilderment.

『…Dammit. That bastard, just so I wouldn’t run away—』

“Well, he should be back by morning. Everyone needs to blow off steam. Then, I, Schutz Eisenbahn, shall stake my life to protect the Holy Sword to the end.”

『He pushed me onto Pops!』

Schutz wrapped the Holy Sword round and round in cloth and slept while hugging it. An action where one could feel a will of steel to protect it absolutely.

『Dammit all!』

Toro, escape impossible.

**

From atop the roof, Solo took a deep breath, inhaling the sooty air of the city night. The city night wears a different face than the day.
The quality of the footsteps of passersby changes.
A dubious atmosphere fills the entire city.

That was,

“First, I gotta secure war funds.”

The world Solo was originally from.

With light steps, Solo jumped down from the roof and dove into the sooty night.

“Haah? You wanna go, ora!”

“Bring it oooon!”

Watching a scuffle between drunks and having a laugh, sneaking quickly or walking unsteadily, mixing with various footsteps, his footsteps gradually became quieter, his presence smaller, until he became invisible.

(Rehab complete.)

While walking nonchalantly, he aimed for and swiped relatively cheap 10 Oro and 100 Oro bills one by one from pockets, pouches, and wallets, regaining the feel of his left hand.

(First-timers are easy.)

Solo thought the important part was the stage before stealing.
More than techniques like erasing presence and footsteps, or stealing soundlessly at a speed invisible to the eye, observing the target to steal from was paramount.

Is the target wealthy? Is it okay if that money is stolen?
Going beyond an amount the target would give up on breeds grudges if you lay a hand on it. Of course, he didn’t intend to stay long in this land, so today he planned to go a bit wild and splurge, but even so, not crossing this line was a rule within Solo.
To survive on the streets, don’t buy unnecessary hostility.
That is the iron rule.

So,

(Ooh, nice.)

The place to hunt prey naturally became a place where such people gathered. A place crowded with mixed joys and sorrows: the entrance and exit of a gambling den. Winners puffed out their chests proudly, piercing the heavens. Losers hung their heads, sucked into the earth. It was a place where heaven and earth mixed very clearly.

Aim for the heavens, aim for the winners.
And among them,

(Found prey.)

Someone originally wealthy if possible. There were folks who came to the gambling den for entertainment, won big like idiots, and went home.
Blatantly rich people clad in expensive-looking clothes and flashy gold and silver accessories. They basically won and went home. Or rather, they were let to win and go home.

(Yees, just passing through~)

Only fools think a gambling den is a place for fair competition. Gambling is designed so the house makes a profit, and to some extent, winning and losing can be manipulated.
It’s natural to let the rich go home feeling good and receive various favors. Even if not directly related to the house, these gambling dens always have backing (violence-related).
Connections there, or whatever—anyway, Solo’s thought from looking up from the gutter was that rich people are all buddies connected everywhere.

(Hee, walking with a swagger. Won way too much like an idiot, seriously.)

Recalling the sensation when he swiped it soundlessly and unnoticed with his left hand, Solo marveled in his heart. He couldn’t distinguish exactly how many 10,000 Oro bills were in there in that split-second passing, but it easily exceeded two or three hundred.
Even if it was hospitality, do it a bit better, he couldn’t help but think.
Of course, he might be the type to carry large sums normally, so not all of that was necessarily money won at the gambling den.

For now, he plucked about ten bills as a greeting and secured war funds.
The feeling in his left hand seemed to be in top form too.

“Welcome.”

“Helloo.”

As expected of a prosperous city, the gambling den was huge. Inside the glittering and large building, it was filled with people carrying scorching heat in various meanings.

(Not bad to swipe a bit more from that old guy and splurge it all in one night, but since I’m here, let’s earn a bit more. And then splurge at a more wholesome shop, let’s do that.)

Solo today was feeling quite elevated, being alone for the first time in a while.
Thinking back to before he got out of the slammer, how long had it been since he was completely alone—

(…Whoops, dangerous, dangerous. Let’s think only happy thoughts. First, roulette… is a no. That depends on the dealer, and a skilled one would absolutely never let a one-time drifter like me who won’t repeat win.)

For Solo, who loved both alcohol and gambling, a gambling den was like his backyard. For a time, he was involved with that crowd, so he was reasonably well-informed.

(Slots depend entirely on the shop. Remote control, manager switches, rumors like that.)

Both roulette and slots were popular games in gambling dens, but to Solo, they were nonsense. Fine if you want to play, but not something to do when you want to win.

(Dice, Cho-Han… austere. The dice shaker, he’s good. Then, pass on that too. Cockfighting is bustling too. Good for watching, but I don’t know much about chickens. I’d rather eat them than make them fight.)

While making various excuses, Solo had actually already decided on the game to play. He just wanted to let the atmosphere of the gambling den soak into his body after a long time.

After finishing his stroll and grasping the atmosphere of the gambling den,

“Ah, got cigarettes?”

Solo ordered cigarettes at the counter.

“Here you go.”

He obtained the essential item for a gambling den, cigarettes. Incidentally, on the blue continent of Azul, alcohol and tobacco were luxury items, but there were no particular legal restrictions.
No legal restrictions by age.
No restrictions on where to use them.
In this world, it’s all okay. In this world. Keep that in mind.
Or rather, alcohol, which is sterilized to some extent, is often safer than drinking water in a bad place.
Especially the closer you get to the gutter.

“Hum hummm.”

Solo rolled a cigarette on the counter in a good mood. In Azul, hand-rolled cigarettes were mainstream; everyone adjusted the shag (tobacco leaves) like this to make a cigarette to their liking.
Solo was a miser, so always just a little bit.

“Master, a light.”

“Proc.”

“Thanks, thanks.”

Solo strutted through the gambling den with a cigarette in his mouth. Note that in this world, in this era, walking with a cigarette in your mouth is normal, so omitted.

The destination Solo headed to was—

“Ooh, they’re at it, they’re at it.”

The star of the gambling den, speaking of the gambling floor, this is it. The supreme game loved by everyone from children to adults, even grandpas and grandmas on the verge of death on the blue continent,

“Gotta be this.”

Yes, Mahjong.

Regardless of age or gender, it is a hugely popular game, and it is common practice for adults to bet money on this. By the way, betting on Mahjong might be prohibited in some other world, but naturally, it doesn’t mean it’s not prohibited on the blue continent of Azul either.
Well, depending on the country, it’s okay in gambling dens, or totally banned; it varies just like in some other world. History proves that if gambling gets too heated, it hinders national administration. That alone doesn’t change even in this world.

But in this city, it seemed to be okay to bet as much as you want in gambling dens.

“I’m a free agent, got room? Don’t really wanna play for cheap stakes though.”

Exuding a full-on pro vibe, Solo called out to the Mahjong staff and assessed the place.
The table he was aiming for,

“In that case, there is a table here with just one spot open.”

He had his eye on it from the start.

“Then, there.”

“However, the rate is Deka-Upin… is that acceptable?”

“Hmm… well, well, standard.”

While exuding a pro vibe, Solo internally,

(The stakes are huge!? Whoa, gotta be careful not to take too much.)

Was a little scared. By the way, in some other world, Deka-Upin (1000 points = 5000 yen) is a rate in the world of high-stakes apartment mahjong, a world completely unrelated to ordinary people. In some other world, it’s illegal in the first place, but the limit rate at mahjong parlors that is generally overlooked is Dekapin (1000 points = 1000 yen), and even this is a big match where amounts close to a hundred thousand fluctuate in one go. You don’t find this just anywhere.

“Then, right this way.”

Solo’s funds were the hundred thousand Oro he swiped and a little bit of small change.
Naturally, at Deka-Upin, if he took last place even once, he would be plucked clean instantly. Though, since he only intended to win, he wasn’t really thinking about losing.

“Hee, got money, brother?”

At the table were three men with the appearance of thugs. A man with a scar over his eye who seemed to be the leader, a born loud-chewer constantly smacking his lips, and a vibration man shaking his leg as if trying to cause an earthquake; quite a distinct lineup.

There,

“Do I need it? Money.”

Solo, cigarette in mouth, sat down heavily and arrogantly.

“Hoh, you got guts. Well, do your best.”

“Yeah.”

Puhaa, exhaling purple smoke, Solo stared at the table. No particular oddities were found on the table itself. Automatic tables existing in some other world didn’t exist in Azul, so naturally, it was hand-shuffled; the warmth of human hands was wonderful.
Reminiscent of the good old days.

“Well then, let’s get started.”

“Go easy on me.”

In some other world, they shuffle East, South, West, North tiles to decide seats, but here, manners were bad so there was no sign of doing that.
Well, this depends on the gambling den and its customers, so from the perspective of an Azul gutter rat, maybe this was standard.

The leader man rolled two dice,

“1, 2, that’s 3. Here, you’re the temporary dealer.”

“Got it.”

Solo, becoming the temporary dealer, rolled two dice again.

“Snake eyes (1-1), feels good. Two, go ahead.”

“Smack smack, thanks.”

With this, everyone’s wind and the dealer were decided.
Solo was North, the dealer of the last round, the Last Dealer.

“Let’s have fun, brother.”

“I’ll enjoy myself.”

“Keh, keep talking.”

Mahjong begins. The loud-chewer is the starting dealer (East), and his starting hand isn’t that bad.

However,

(At this rate, there’s no way there’s nothing going on. Well, I’ll observe for a while.)

He didn’t think for a second this would be just Mahjong. There was definitely something. Until he grasped it, he would discard tiles smoothly and roundly.

(Feels good to the touch. I’m in good form today.)

His draws with his right hand were also in top form. Tiles coming in zuba zuba.

“Riichi.”

Riichi on a ready hand immediately is basic Mahjong. Not very expensive, but that’s exactly why he calls Riichi. There’s also the expectation for Ura-Dora (hidden bonus tiles).

“Ron. Tanyao only. Ura, hit. Riichi, Tanyao, Dora 1, that’s 5200 (Gonni).”

“Haha, cheap hand. Should have at least added Pinfu or you’ll incur Goddess-sama’s wrath, you know?”

“I’m good at quick wins.”

“Don’t blame me if divine punishment strikes.”

A promising start.

However, the big game had only just begun—

***

T/N:

1.zuba zuba: Japanese onomatopoeia (sound effect word). It describes the sound or feeling of something cutting through sharply, moving with great force/speed, or hitting the mark repeatedly and satisfyingly.

2. “Ron. Tanyao only. Ura, hit. Riichi, Tanyao, Dora 1, that’s 5200 (Gonni).”

This is standard Japanese Mahjong terminology (riichi mahjong) describing a winning hand and calculating the score.

• Ron (ロン): The call made when a player wins off another player’s discard. (Solo wins off someone else).

• Tanyao (タンヤオ): A specific yaku (winning condition/hand pattern). It means a hand consisting only of simple tiles (numbers 2-8), with no terminals (1, 9) or honor tiles (winds, dragons).

  • Note: He says “Tanyao only” initially because before revealing hidden bonus tiles, that might have been his only visible yaku besides Riichi.

• Ura, hit (裏、乗った – Ura, notta):

  • Ura: Short for Ura-Dora. In Riichi Mahjong, if you declare Riichi and win, you get to flip a hidden tile under the Dora indicator. If that tile matches any tile in your hand, you get bonus points (han).

  • Hit/Notta: Means the Ura-Dora matched! He got lucky.

• Riichi, Tanyao, Dora 1: He is listing his han (points/multipliers).

  • 1 Han for Riichi (declaring ready hand).

  • 1 Han for Tanyao (all simples).

  • 1 Han for Dora 1 (the Ura-Dora he just hit).

  • Total: 3 Han.

• 5200 (Gonni):

  • In Mahjong scoring, a 3-Han hand with 40 fu (a likely fu count for a closed Ron hand without Pinfu) scores 5,200 points for a non-dealer.

  • Gonni (ゴンニ): This is slang/jargon used by mahjong players for the score 5200. “Go” = 5, “Ni” = 2.

Yeah, Confusing lol