Null stretched his arms lazily once his boots touched the ground.
The merchant carriage rolled away soon after, its wheels creaking as the horses carried it farther down the road.
A quiet breeze swept across the low hills ahead. Sparse woodland dotted the landscape. Perfect terrain for an ambush.
Ronan crouched down and pulled a small folded parchment from his pouch—a crude regional map. He spread it across a flat rock and weighed the corners down with small stones.
"Alright," he muttered, studying the markings. "The rumors said the bandits are operating somewhere around these hills."
He tapped a shaded patch of woodland drawn beside the trade road.
"Apparently they call themselves the Rocket Gang."
Tobin blinked. "The Rocket Gang?"
Mira immediately burst out laughing. "That sounds ridiculous."
Derrik scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Bandits aren't exactly known for naming sense."
Lyra leaned slightly closer to the map. "But if they've been harassing merchants consistently, they must have some organization."
Ronan nodded. "Exactly."
He traced the route of the road with his finger. "Merchants reported ambushes near the forest edge. My guess is they've set up a camp somewhere inside the woods."
Tobin pumped his fist. "Then let's go smash them!"
Mira grinned mischievously. "Careful, crossbow boy. Try not to faint the moment someone swings a sword."
"I won't faint!" Tobin protested immediately.
Derrik chuckled. "Relax. This is good experience."
The group's excitement was obvious. They were novices. The thrill of a real mission still burned brightly in their blood.
Meanwhile—Null stood slightly apart from the group, watching the quiet woodland ahead. But his thoughts were elsewhere.
'…Fantasy Omniscience-san.'
[Yes, Master.]
'…Do rockets exist in this world?'
A brief pause. Then—
[Negative. Rockets as technological propulsion devices do not exist in this world.]
Null nodded slowly. '…I thought so.'
Curiosity piqued, he turned toward Ronan. "Hey."
Ronan looked up from the map. "Yeah?"
"What's this 'rocket' thing you mentioned?"
Ronan blinked. Then he chuckled. "Oh. That."
He waved his hand dismissively. "Honestly? It doesn't really mean anything."
Null tilted his head. "…What do you mean?"
Ronan folded the map and stood up. "It's basically bandit folklore."
Mira leaned in eagerly. "Oh yeah, I've heard about that."
Tobin looked confused. "You have?"
Mira nodded enthusiastically. "There's supposedly this legendary bandit group somewhere in the world."
Ronan continued. "They call themselves the greatest bandits alive."
Derrik snorted. "Self-proclaimed, obviously."
"But," Ronan said with a grin, "they're actually famous."
Lyra nodded slightly. "I've heard traveling merchants mention them before."
Tobin leaned forward. "Wait wait—what about the rocket thing?"
Ronan raised a finger dramatically. "Ah, yes."
He lowered his voice slightly as if telling a campfire story. "They say that gang possesses a supreme artifact called Rocket."
Tobin's eyes widened. "An artifact?"
Mira smirked. "According to rumors, it can secretly scout the entire world and assist in their legendary stealing activities."
Derrik crossed his arms. "Meaning they always know where the richest targets are."
Lyra added softly. "Some even say the great powers of the world are wary of them."
Tobin gasped. "Seriously?!"
Ronan shrugged. "Who knows how much of it is true. But because of those stories, a lot of small-time bandits idolize them."
Mira twirled one of her daggers lazily. "So naturally, wannabe bandits name their groups after them."
Derrik nodded. "Basically saying: we'll reach their level someday."
Ronan gestured toward the woods. "Which is probably why this bunch calls themselves the Rocket Gang."
Null stood silently for a moment. Then another.
His expression slowly turned blank.
Inside his mind—he sighed deeply.
'…Fantasy Omniscience-san.'
[Yes, Master.]
'…That artifact they described. A device capable of observing the world from above.'
Null rubbed his forehead. '…Yeah.'
A pause. Then Fantasy Omniscience answered calmly.
[Such functionality aligns closely with orbital reconnaissance satellites.]
Null looked toward the sky. The wide blue sky.
'…Exactly.'
He muttered internally. 'That's not a rocket. That's a satellite.'
A quiet suspicion crept into his thoughts.
'…Fantasy Omniscience-san.'
[Yes, Master.]
'…There's definitely another otherworlder involved in that "greatest bandit gang," isn't there?'
A brief pause. Then—
[Probability: Extremely high.]
Null sighed. '…Of course there is.'
Meanwhile—the others had finished discussing strategy.
Ronan sheathed his sword and gestured toward the woods. "Alright. Let's go see what these 'Rocket Gang' idiots are up to."
Mira cracked her knuckles. Tobin nervously loaded his crossbow. Derrik adjusted his staff. Lyra quietly prepared a healing charm.
And Null—just followed behind them.
Still wondering what kind of lunatic from Earth had apparently decided that the best use of modern knowledge in a fantasy world… was becoming a legendary bandit.
---
The woodland was quiet.
Not peaceful quiet—but the kind that felt thick. Dense with the smell of damp leaves, cheap alcohol, and unwashed bodies.
A small clearing had been carved out between the trees where a crude camp had been established. Broken carts. A fire pit. A few bedrolls thrown carelessly beneath branches.
Six men occupied the clearing.
Four of them sat around the fire, passing a bottle between them. The smell alone could probably melt iron.
"…And then," one of them slurred proudly, raising the bottle toward the sky, "the Heavenly Rocket shall descend upon this world and guide our path to glory!"
The others roared with laughter.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Another bandit slammed his mug against a wooden crate. "Yes! When the day comes, our names shall echo across the continent!"
"Merchants will tremble!"
"Kings will kneel!"
The youngest-looking one leaned forward dramatically. "And the world will remember the day when the Rocket Brotherhood rose from the shadows!"
A moment of silence passed.
Then another bandit scratched his beard. "…Wait. Are we calling ourselves that now?"
The first man waved his hand grandly. "Names are temporary. Legends are eternal."
"Ahhhh," another nodded sagely. "Truly spoken like a warrior of the heavens."
The bottle passed again.
Meanwhile—at the edge of the clearing—two bandits stood watch.
Or rather… they attempted to.
One leaned against a tree with his arms crossed. The other squinted suspiciously into the forest.
"…Brother."
"…What is it?"
The first bandit narrowed his eyes. "The wind whispers."
The second bandit blinked. "…What?"
"The wind," the first repeated gravely. "It carries the footsteps of fate."
The second bandit stared at him. "…You mean you heard something in the bushes."
The first bandit frowned. "…Your mind lacks spiritual depth."
The second rolled his eyes.
But then—he heard it too.
A faint sound. Leaves shifting. Footsteps.
His posture stiffened instantly.
"…Wait."
The drunken laughter from the camp continued behind them.
The second guard slowly lifted his hand. "…Someone's coming."
The first guard's eyes sharpened immediately. "…Enemies of the day? …Or wandering sheep."
The second bandit quietly drew his sword. "…Let's find out."
Behind them—the four drunken bandits were still arguing.
"—I'm telling you, when the Heavenly Rocket awakens, it will bless only the worthy!"
"Idiot, it clearly blesses the bold!"
"No, no, the prophecy says—"
CRACK.
A twig snapped somewhere in the trees.
The laughter stopped.
All four drunken bandits slowly turned their heads toward the forest.
The two guards stood tense at the edge of the clearing.
One of them spoke quietly. "…Intruders."
The camp fell silent.
One of the drunken bandits slowly set his mug down. "…So." He stood up and cracked his neck. "The winds of fate have delivered prey."
Another bandit grabbed his axe and grinned. "Perfect timing."
A third wiped alcohol from his mouth. "Let's see if these travelers are worthy of witnessing the Rocket Brotherhood's Magnificence."
The last bandit staggered to his feet dramatically. "Brothers…" He raised his sword toward the sky. "…the stars themselves have delivered challengers to our stage!"
At the edge of the clearing—the bushes rustled.
The guards tightened their grips on their weapons.
Then—a group of figures slowly stepped out of the forest.
Ronan. Mira. Derrik. Lyra. Tobin.
And Null.
The bandits stared. The adventurers stared back.
For a moment—no one spoke.
Then one of the bandits squinted at them. "…Kids?"
Another bandit frowned. "…Are we being robbed?"