I slipped down from the roof to the ground with a soft shuu. Whether word had spread that the bandits had entered the village, every house had extinguished its lights. Were they holding their breath and sensing the presence outside? The village was filled with an air of unnatural silence and tension.
From an alley I watched the bandits. The guard came again. Carrying lamps and talking in loud voices as if afraid of the bandits, they walked timidly. It had become like a children's test of courage. They seemed to be hoping that if they made a racket the bandits would avoid them, that the bandits would notice their conversation and flee. I also wished it would be so, yet these bandits were not that soft.
Against several members of the guard the bandits surrounded them all at once and killed them without letting them raise their voices. Amazing — the expression "skilled hands" fits perfectly.
