Null stretched lazily as the merchant carriage rolled away, its creaking wheels fading down the road. A quiet breeze swept through the low hills, shaking the sparse woodland that formed a textbook ambush spot.
Ronan squatted, spreading a crude regional map over a flat rock and weighing the corners down with pebbles. "Alright," he muttered, tracing the markings. "The rumors say the bandits are operating somewhere around these hills. Apparently, they call themselves the Rocket Gang."
Tobin blinked. "The Rocket Gang?"
Mira immediately burst out laughing. "That sounds ridiculous."
"Bandits aren't exactly known for their naming sense," Derrik muttered, scratching his chin.
Lyra leaned closer. "But if they've been harassing merchants consistently, they must have some organization."
"Exactly," Ronan said, his finger stopping at a shaded patch of forest beside the trade route. "Merchants reported ambushes near the woods. My guess is their camp is somewhere inside."
Tobin pumped his fist. "Then let's go smash them!"
"Careful, crossbow boy," Mira grinned mischievously. "Try not to faint the moment someone swings a blade."
"I won't faint!" Tobin protested.
Derrik chuckled. "Relax. This is good experience."
The novices' excitement was obvious, the thrill of a real mission burning in their blood. Null stood a bit apart, watching the treeline as a separate thread of curiosity tugged at his mind.
'Fantasy Omniscience-san.'
[Yes, Master.]
'Do rockets exist in this world?'
A brief pause followed.
[Negative. Rockets as technological propulsion devices do not exist in this world.]
'I thought so.' Null turned toward Ronan. "Hey. What's this 'rocket' thing you mentioned?"
Ronan looked up, chuckling. "Oh, that. Honestly? It doesn't really mean anything. It's basically bandit folklore."
Mira leaned in eagerly. "Oh yeah, I've heard of that! There's supposedly this legendary bandit group somewhere in the world."
"They call themselves the greatest thieves alive," Ronan continued.
"Self-proclaimed, obviously," Derrik snorted.
"But they're actually famous," Ronan said with a grin. "Traveling merchants mention them constantly."
Tobin leaned forward. "Wait, what about the rocket thing?"
"Ah, yes," Ronan raised a finger dramatically, lowering his voice like a campfire story. "They say that gang possesses a supreme artifact called Rocket."
"An artifact?" Tobin's eyes widened.
Mira smirked. "According to rumors, it can secretly scout the entire world and assist in their legendary stealing activities."
"Meaning they always know where the richest targets are," Derrik crossed his arms.
Lyra added softly, "Some even say the great powers of the world are wary of them."
"Seriously?!" Tobin gasped.
Ronan shrugged. "Who knows how much of it is true. But a lot of small-time bandits idolize them, naming their own groups after them as if to say they'll join them someday."
"Which is probably why this bunch calls themselves the Rocket Gang."
Null stood completely silent. His expression slowly went blank as a massive mental facepalm echoed through his head.
'Fantasy Omniscience-san... that artifact. A device capable of observing the world from above.' He rubbed his forehead. 'Isn't that?'
[Such functionality aligns closely with orbital reconnaissance satellites,] she answered calmly.
Null looked up at the vast blue sky. 'Exactly. That's not a rocket. That's a satellite.' A quiet suspicion crept into his thoughts. 'There's definitely another otherworlder involved in that 'greatest bandit gang,' isn't there?'
[Probability: Extremely high.]
Null let out a slow sigh. '...Of course there is.'
While the others finished reviewing their strategy, Null casually followed behind them into the trees, still wondering what kind of absolute lunatic from the mortal realm had decided that the best use of scientific knowledge in a fantasy world was becoming a legendary bandit.
***
The woodland clearing was thick with the stench of damp leaves, cheap alcohol, and unwashed bodies. Six men occupied the camp, surrounded by broken carts, a crude fire pit, and careless bedrolls.
Four of them sat around the fire, passing a bottle of foul-smelling liquor. "And then," one of them slurred proudly, raising the bottle to the sky, "the Heavenly Rocket shall descend upon this world and guide our path to glory!"
The others roared with laughter, slamming their mugs against wooden crates. "Yes! When the day comes, our names shall echo across the continent!"
"HAHAHAHA!"
"Merchants will tremble!"
"Kings will kneel!"
The youngest leaned forward dramatically. "The world will remember the day the Rocket Brotherhood rose from the shadows!"
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."
"Truly spoken like a warrior of the all-seeing."
At the edge of the clearing, two bandits stood watch—or attempted to. One leaned against a tree with his arms crossed while the other squinted suspiciously into the brush.
"Brother," the second one muttered gravely, "the wind whispers. It carries the footsteps of fate."
The first guard rolled his eyes. "You mean you heard something in the bushes."
The second bandit frowned. "Your mind lacks spiritual depth."
The first rolled his eyes.
But a moment later, he heard it too—a faint snap of twigs and shifting leaves. His posture stiffened instantly, and he quietly drew his sword. "Wait. Someone's coming."
"Enemies of the day? …Or wandering sheep."
Behind them, the four drunken bandits were still arguing about the prophecy of the rocket until a loud crack shattered the quiet.
"—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—"
The laughter stopped instantly. All six bandits slowly turned their heads toward the forest edge as the bushes rustled open.
"Intruders." The second guard shouted.
"So. The winds of fate have delivered prey."
"Let's see if these travelers are worthy of witnessing the Rocket Brotherhood's Magnificence."
Ronan, Mira, Derrik, Lyra, Tobin, and Null stepped out into the open clearing.
The bandits stared. The adventurers stared back.
For a moment, no one spoke. Then, one of the drunken bandits squinted hard at the novices, cracking his neck as he staggered to his feet. "...Kids? Are we being robbed?"