Chapter 1 – Black Hound

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୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ 1⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Immediately after being born, a dog was assigned to him. A puppy coined “Rollo,” just like himself. It was a custom in the Duvel family to raise a new child alongside a dog. A dog with the same name and age as the child.

The dog assigned to Rollo had drooping ears. Its head and back were olive brown, while the rest sported white. Rollo loved its gentle, intelligent look with the constantly wet eyes.

Rollo the boy and Rollo the dog were always together, no matter where they went. The round dog quickly grew large and began to protect the boy.

For Rollo the boy, who had lost his mother at birth, Rollo the dog was family, on whom he could rely and depend the most. Sleeping while embedding his head in the dog’s fluffy and warm belly was a time of purest bliss for the young Rollo. Its belly always smelled nice whenever they spent the day playing in the sun.

When Rollo turned five, his father died. The boy barely had any memories of his father, who was prone to falling sick. As he grew up in his grandparents’ home, he mostly recognized his father as something like a neighbor who dropped by every once in a while. Rollo was bad with the taciturn, timid man, who always seemed to be glaring at him.

That’s why he didn’t feel sad when he heard the news of his father’s death. But when he saw many people shed tears in memory of him, Rollo felt his chest tighten for some reason while tears quickly rolled down his cheeks. This left Rollo bewildered.

You can’t meet, touch, or talk with someone once they’re dead. Rollo didn’t like his father, but he still felt a loss, as if he had parted with a piece of his life.

Thinking back on it now, it might have been Rollo’s first encounter with death.

The one licking his cheeks and comforting him at that time was Rollo the dog. Rollo tightly hugged Rollo. Living beings can’t escape death. He realized that he’d likely need to part with his beloved dog one day, and that realization alone made him shed even more tears.

Rollo was always at Rollo’s side.

The time and place where they ate their meals were the same. When the boy went to sleep in his bed, the dog would roll up in a kip in the same bedroom. When the boy took a bath or went to the toilet, the dog would patiently wait for him outside.

When the boy chased a rabbit in the forest, when he practiced how to use all sorts of weapons, and even when he was lectured on history, medicine, and assassination techniques, Rollo would be with him. Sometimes running around him, other times sleeping next to him with his jaw placed on its forepaws.

Rollo didn’t have any parents, but not once did he feel sad. That had to be solely owed to Rollo the dog, always being at his side.

A person and an animal were siblings, best friends, and basically one entity, possessing the same name.

On his tenth birthday, Rollo was assigned his first mission to become a full-fledged assassin. If they succeeded, the children of the Duvel family were allowed to leave their home as legitimate assassins. In other words, it was a rite of passage necessary to become an adult.

The assassination target named by his grandfather was Rollo the dog.

An assassin can’t choose his assassination target. He mustn’t bring his personal feelings into his work. He must smartly finish any mission assigned to him, following his lord’s orders. Those rules defined an assassin’s pride and dignity. At least for the Duvel family, which served the Grace family as assassins since the days of old.

For a boy at the tender age of ten, his home and family constitute his entire world. The rules at home are equal to the rules of the world. Killing a dog who’s called just like him and has stayed at his side since his birth──that was natural and common sense to become a fully-fledged assassin in the world where Rollo lived.

All of the Duvel family members had become adults like that.

During his training, his grandfather had often told Rollo to cry when he held back his tears after almost getting discouraged or suffering an unexpected injury. He had also told him not to lie about his pain and to accept his own agony properly.

──『Assassins are born from lamentation』

This represented the Duvel family’s motto. Those overcoming grueling experiences, which they would rather forget, and pain, which seemed to tear one’s body apart, would become even stronger. An assassin unreasonably robs others of their lives, and thus they won’t be of any use if they don’t foster a fairly firm resolve and mental fortitude──his grandfather had taught Rollo.

His grandfather relentlessly hit Rollo’s cheeks as the young boy shook his head while pleading that he couldn’t kill the dog.

“I didn’t mind if you cried, and you were free to scream at the top of your lungs. But that comes to an end today. The pain of murdering your other half, which spent all its time at your side like family, with your very own hands, will turn you into a full-fledged assassin.”

A flood of tears rolled down Rollo’s cheeks, and his teeth clattered as he stood in front of the kennels with the barking dogs. In his hands, he clasped a dagger sheathed in its scabbard.

Rollo the dog was pressing its body against the boy’s leg. It wasn’t clear whether it understood its deadly fate, but it was worried about the boy who stood stock still while sobbing, rubbing its head against the boy’s thigh to console him, just like always.

The boy crouched down and hugged the dog. He whispered, “I’m alright,” in one of its drooping ears and stroked its back.

If you kill, do it instantly. Don’t make your target suffer. Don’t allow them even the instant of fearing death. Rollo knew how to end a life in the blink of an eye. After all, those techniques had been drilled into him up until now.

The members of the Duvel family, including his grandfather, had surrounded Rollo, the boy, and Rollo, the dog. Even members of the Grace family had come to watch the birth of a new assassin.

Escape wouldn’t be tolerated.

Now, come and kill. Carry out your duty. That is the rule. That is “normal” for the Duvels.

Rollo gritted his clattering teeth and drew the dagger from its scabbard.

This was the world where Rollo Duvel would continue to live──

“…To hell with it!”

Rollo brandished his dagger as urged on by the world while glaring at his grandfather.

———– End of Part 1 ———–

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