Vana's POV

Three bandits on the inside, while plenty on the outside. There are at least ten of them outside, and the two leaders who serves as the head of the group is a room away from us. The control room of the ship is only a room away from here, and the ship’s crew are all tied up with us as well.

I can’t tell whether negotiations have been made already or not, but I do know that if I don’t make a move now, all of us in this ship will likely be in big trouble. I overheard one of the bandits’ conversations, saying that there’s a bomb in the ship.

I tilted my head to the drawer, eyeing my weapon a look. I walked over—or in this case—I crawled my way next to the drawer, trying not to catch the bandits’ attention as I get close over the drawer. I stayed in front of the drawer, taking my time as I observe the bandits guarding the hostaged passengers inside the room.

I reach for the lower drawer, slowly opening it with caution. The drawer opened with a small gap, big enough for my hand to fit through inside and reach for my sickle inside. I paused as I notice the man in front of me staring from behind his back.

It was the baron from earlier. I gulped, flinching as he gives me a suspicious look. I pursed my lips, taking my hand out from the drawer as I glance at the baron who is staring at me. I glanced at the bandit close to us, then bobbing my head to the baron to move closer.

The baron wiggled his body close to me, leaning his head close to hear what I have to say. I leaned in closer, whispering to him about what I planned to do.

“Please cover me. I’ll take my weapon out of the drawer and free myself. Then, I’ll find a way to free the passengers from them,” I stated, requesting something from a person of higher status than me.

If I’m correct, the baron’s name is Baron Herde. His clothes were neat and ornamented, with metallic colors embroidered on his upper garments, a symbol of his noble lineage. It doesn’t matter if he’s a baron or not, if he wants to get out of here alive, he’ll have to cooperate with me.

“How can I be sure that I can trust you?” the baron asked, his eyes wary of my presence.

“Because I’m a wizard,” I said. The words left a distaste feeling in my mouth. It’s a word that I didn’t want to say, nor did I want to live up to.

“Y-you’re a wizard,” Baron Herde exclaimed, covering his mouth soon after he realized what he said. “Then, you can use magic. As in like weaponized magic.”

“Uh… yes?” I replied with a confused look. Although, I never intend to use magic.

“Alright, I’ll help you. What do I need to do?” the man asked, his attitude towards me completely changing.

“Cover me for now,” I said as I head back to what I’m doing.

I leaned against the drawer again, placing my hand inside the drawer as I slowly pull the sickles—my weapons—out of the drawer. I held them out, silently dropping them off to the ground. I closed the drawer, crawling back against the wall while dragging the weapons with me.

I hide the sickle behind my back, curling its blade along the rope in between my hands. I slicked through the rope as gently as possible, putting my strength onto the sickle as I cut through the ropes.

The rope tied around my wrist had two knots that are tightly knotted. If I can only cut one of those knots, I can easily free myself from this poorly chosen way of shackling hostages. They are clearly amateurs and inexperienced in this field.

“Why are you not using magic?” Baron Herde asked, crawling his way next to me.

I rolled my eyes, focusing myself on cutting the ropes instead of using my strength to converse in a stupid way. “Because I don’t want to,” I answered, eyeing a look at the bandits in the lounge.

The sickle’s blade slicked through the rope. I swung the blade gently back and forth on the knot, breaking it as I free myself from captivity. The ropes loosened as the rope’s knot cuts in half. I struggled, shaking my arms off the rope as I let the rope slide out of my hands.

I cupped my wrists, feeling the rope’s marks on it. I set the rope down on the floor, grabbing my sickle from the ground as I held it tight with both hands. I have a pair of sickles as my weapons. I raised my eyes up at the bandits, trying to find a pattern on how I can knock them out.

I don’t plan to kill them, but hurting them a little bit won’t be enough to kill them, right?

I heaved a breath, standing up from my spot as I keep my hands behind my back. My eyes shot daggers on the bandits; my gaze aimed at the bandit closest to me. The bandit close to me glanced at my direction, his brows furrowing.

“Why are you standing? Sit down,” he demanded, pointing his gun at me.

A thin line formed on my lips, approaching the bandit with an innocent expression. “Can I use the restroom? Please, my bladder won’t be able to handle it anymore,” I said, acting with exaggeration as I continue to take steps closer to him.

The bandit sighed in frustration, lowering his gun. He ran a hand over his face, calling one of the bandits in the middle of the room. The man followed his order, approaching him with an irritated expression.

The passengers around us glanced at our direction, some witnessing the weapons I am holding behind my back. I bobbed my head to the passengers, winking at them and mouthed a word to keep it a secret. Baron Herde helped me in silencing the hostages, shaking his head as a command.

“You, this way,” the bandit ushered, pointing at the door’s direction as he grabs my hand.

His hand touched my skin, and when it did, I yanked him away, revealing the weapons I had behind my back. I held the sickle on a reverse grip, swinging the weapon as the blade slashes down from his shoulder to his arm. Blood splattered as a wide and long gash open in his arm.

He cried in pain, falling to his knees as blood pours out of his wound. The bandit next to him attacked me with his gun, firing at me. He shot the gun, but I dodged, scooting over to the side as I slash the sickle around his torso.

The blade plunges across his chest, a deep wound searing blood out of his body. The man fell to the ground, losing consciousness out of shock. The remaining bandits witnessed what happened, cowering as he runs out of the lounge.

He was about to yell and call for backup. I threw one of my sickles at his direction, aiming at his shoulder. The sickle stabbed through his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. He screamed, the force hauling him down the wall.

The scream and cry of the bandits inside the room caused for the bandits outside to investigate the lounge, finding me standing with a bloodied sickle on my hand. I don’t actually like seeing blood, but it became a normal thing for me because of my line of work.

The bandits gasped to see their comrades injured and lying to the ground. They rushed in, guns pointing in the air as they all surround me. I thought I’m doing a very good job, but it doesn’t seem to be the case after these bandits cried in pain.

I faced the bandits, raising my hands in the air with a lazy composure. I darted them a look, searching for any emblem or any hint of who they are. Since it came to this, I can’t fight them without causing any harm to the passengers.

I’ll have no choice but to temporarily surrender.

“What’s going on here?” a voice demanded, followed by the fake Storm entering the lounge. The fake Storm’s eyes landed at me, a mocking scowl creeping in his mouth. “I knew there’s something about you. Who knew you know how to fight.”