Re:Zero Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu (LN) - Volume SS3 - Chapter 4.13

13

The powerful demand for attention led him right to a sea of blood.

“Ahaaa, you finally came to see me, Wolfie.”

The berserker gazed at Ricardo, snorting with excitement. Corpses lay scattered at his feet, brutalized beyond recognition.

But even among the mangled remains, Ricardo could tell at a glance—

“That guy, that guy, and that guy—those ain’t my boys. They’re yours.”

“Oops… You think sooo?” Didorii chuckled, tilting his head. “They were just loitering around in front of me, getting on my nerves, so I wasted them. But that sorta thing happens, right?”

“Not to me, it doesn’t, jackass.”

The joking brute before him, bloody battle-axes in hand, was Didorii the skin flayer. One of his four arms adjusted the human-skin coat draped over his hulking frame, his bug-eyed glare fixed on Ricardo.

“So my hunch was right. The Wolfie that girl talked about was you.”

“…And you’re the dumbass who let Ana run circles around you. You ain’t eccentric—you’re just stupid. And that stupidity has wiped out almost your entire crew. You still got that goofy grin on your face, or is reality sinking in?”

“Oh yeah? Well, as far as I’m concerned, all I wanna do is have fun with you, Wolfie.”

Now it all made sense. That was classic berserker logic.

Hiring pure muscle without giving a damn about their brains was a colossal failure in judgment, but Razcrew’s standards were so atrociously low, it almost felt cruel to expect him to notice.

“Ricardo…”

His lieutenant arrived, panting from battle fatigue. Ricardo’s massive machete pointed toward a different battleground.

“Once I pin down this bastard, his friends’ll crumble.”

“I guess he could say the same about you.”

“Shut it. Just go deal with the rest and pray I win.”

Ricardo gave his worried lieutenant a shove and turned back to Didorii.

The man waited in silence until the lieutenant had fully retreated. Ricardo raised an eyebrow.

“If you don’t use good table manners before a big feast, doesn’t it make the meal taste worse?” Didorii grinned, adjusting his axes. “I’m Didorii—I like my meat juuust right.”

“That so?” Ricardo scoffed. “Well, I don’t waste time slapping ‘delicious’ or ‘disgusting’ labels on the bastards I kill. And I ain’t letting you lay a single filthy finger on Ana.”

“Oooh, would that have lit a fire in your belly if I did?”

“I’d already be slamming your ugly head into a vat of boiling oil, bastard.”

Their mutual insults were the gong that signaled the start of the battle.

In a flash, Ricardo lunged, closing the gap instantly.

Didorii roared, swinging his four battle-axes from different angles, aiming to tear Ricardo apart.

Ricardo sidestepped the low swing, batted away two of the incoming axes with his machete, and before the final blow could land, drove his boot into Didorii’s gut, sending the skin flayer flying.

“Gworyaaaah!”

With a savage howl, Ricardo swung his machete down, aiming for Didorii’s skull.

Two of Didorii’s axes shot up, catching the deadly strike just before impact. The force shook the ground, sending sparks flying as steel met steel.

But before the fight could turn into a contest of brute strength, the many-armed man’s remaining two arms came for Ricardo’s sides, axes sweeping in from left and right.

Ricardo braced himself as the blades slammed against his breastplate.

His ribs screamed, and even the organs beneath them felt the impact. Spitting out blood, Ricardo used the momentum of Didorii’s attack to spring backward.

“Kahhh! Peh! Peh!” He coughed, spitting crimson onto the ground. “Shit, you’ve got moves, you bastard!”

“Not too shabby yourself, Wolfie. Okay, I think we’re finished warming up now.”

While Ricardo spat blood, Didorii simply grinned, his smarmy satisfaction unwavering. Then, in an instant, his massive form vanished into the darkness.

“Invisibility?! With that huge body?!” Ricardo’s voice rang out in frustration as he strained his eyes against the night.

A brash, attention-hungry brute like Didorii shouldn’t be able to blend into the darkness so seamlessly—but he had. His scent had vanished, too, likely masked by the overpowering stench of blood pooling around them. Clever. Surprisingly clever.

Ricardo went still, focusing. Then—whoosh. A sharp gust of wind. Instinct kicked in.

He raised his machete just in time—CLANG—as three consecutive blows hammered against his weapon. Neutralizing three of the giant’s attacks at once was one of Ricardo’s greatest abilities. But if a fourth attack landed, it would mean Didorii’s tactics were superior.

“Gnnff!”

The final ax struck his left shoulder, splitting through his wiry fur and tearing into thick muscle. Bright red blood spurted forth, and a deep, guttural growl of pain and fury rumbled in Ricardo’s throat.

“Ooh-hahhh! Guess it’ll take more than one ax to cut you down, honey!”

Didorii howled with delight, flipping lightly backward, vanishing once more into the void. No footsteps. No breathing. Just darkness.

Didorii was a nightmare. A predator cloaked in the flesh of his victims, wielding death and destruction with four bloodied arms.

“Well? What do you think, huh? Huh? Did you enjoy my lovely dance?”

The sound of stomping feet didn’t seem to come from the same place the smarmy voice did. His strange way of moving around was deliberately confusing.

He was confounding Ricardo’s eyes with invisibility, tricking his ears with his voice, and distracting his nose with all the blood.

Didorii himself moved unpredictably—advancing, retreating, crawling, leaping. Left, right, up, down. An erratic, death-dealing kaleidoscope that landed more hits as time went on.

At most, he could defend against three strikes, thanks to his senses—but the fourth always landed. And each one bit deeper than the last. It was only a matter of time before one last attack made his head fly.

“Damn you!” Ricardo snarled, staggering. “Okay, fine… I’m gonna end that stupid dance of yours!”

With a feral roar, he shouldered his machete and hurled himself high, soaring through the air before landing in front of an abandoned hut where he put his back against the wall.

He couldn’t predict when or where Didorii’s attacks would come from. This way, he could at least eliminate the where.

A brilliant tactic, but Didorii only chuckled in amusement.

“Oo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Ooh, you went over there! I knew you’d go there! But listen, baby—!”

And then Didorii’s massive frame appeared in the distance. Not for close combat.

For a throw.

Four axes hurtled at Ricardo from four directions.

Ricardo’s last resort had been to plant himself against a wall, but he hadn’t accounted for long-range attacks. To block this…he’d need four arms.

And Didorii’s grin widened.

“I’ll kill you,” the berserker cooed, licking his lips, “then I’ll show your pelt to that little girl. Oooh, I wonder how she’ll take it?”

The smug cruelty in his tone snapped the last thread of Ricardo’s patience.

Ricardo opened his mouth wide and played his ace in the hole.

“GRAAHHHH!!!”

A devastating howl ripped through the air.

The atmosphere itself trembled. The earth cracked, peeling apart beneath the force of his voice. The shock wave surged forward, blowing aside the spinning axes and slamming into Didorii, bathing his giant body in brilliant red.

“Uh—huhhh?”

Blood poured from his body, his bug eyes wide in stunned confusion.

“Raaaagh!!!”

And then, Ricardo struck.

With one breath, one mighty swing, he poured his entire being into the final blow. His machete slammed down, sinking deep into Didorii’s thick neck.

A stunning arc of blood blossomed in the air. The skin flayer’s massive form—coat of flesh and all—was sent flying.

“Oagh.”

The sound of muscle and bone being torn apart echoed across the battlefield.

Didorii’s body crashed into the ground, limbs twitching and head barely hanging on.

“Oooh, baby…that really…stung.”

And with a chuckle in his raspy breath, he fell forever silent.

And thus, the criminal enterprise that plagued Banan met its end.