Chapter 39
Chapter 39. The First Secret Plan (3)
Violence is frightening to everyone.
Serena was also afraid of violence.
However, simple violence could be wielded by anyone.
The violence of the outlaws Serena faced was essentially no different from an eight-year-old child stepping on and killing a bug.
Truly childish and utterly shallow show of force.
On the other hand, what about Penelope?
Penelope had made Blyton, her competitor, 'commit suicide' using her family.
She absorbed the cream of the business he'd operated as if it were natural, and now she was even trying to devour that business.
Once the 'secret plan' was completed, this market share war would also end with Y&P Trading Company's victory.
This was the real violence of nobility.
"So I, I'm not afraid of the likes of you..."
After Serena's statement of conviction, a cold silence settled.
"Has she gone crazy...!"
Just as the female outlaw, whose expression had hardened, raised her hand high to strike Serena's cheek.
"Stop, what are you doing?"
The cabin door opened and an old man entered.
Serena, who had been squeezing her eyes shut, furtively opened them.
Then as soon as she confirmed the old man's appearance, she closed her eyes again.
Skin so wrinkled it was cracked like an ancient tree, eyes entirely black with no whites, a long beard and loose robes.
Overall bizarre attire, but Serena had good instincts.
She could sense that even the ruthless outlaws feared this old man.
Especially the female outlaw who had tried to hit Serena's cheek bowed her head, trembling as if about to collapse.
"Didn't I tell you not to lay a hand on her and deliver her intact?"
"P, Priest... that's not... I committed a mortal sin! I'm, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
When the old man stroked his beard, rustling, the beard scattered and climbed up his hand.
Only then could Serena understand why the beard had been moving oddly.
What he wore like a beard was a cluster of long-legged spiders packed densely together.
Serena faint stack 1.
"Let's see, Serena Renoir? Are you hurt anywhere?"
The old man examined Serena's condition with a kind smile.
But Serena's mind was already half-departed.
Real spiders.
This grandfather had thousands of spiders dangling in clusters under his chin.
She wished he wouldn't come close.
"...There are scratches."
The old man glared at the collapsed outlaw with a razor-sharp look.
"A precious offering. An offering this valuable wouldn't equal even five of you worthless bitches."
"Sh, she wouldn't spit out information easily... I was just trying to scare her! Really!"
"Useless thing."
The old man made a light gesture.
At that moment, with a skittering rustle, spiders appearing from somewhere covered the outlaw's body.
"Gyahk! Gyaaaaahk! Please spare me! Please spare me!"
"Eek! Eeeeeek!"
"Ugh... uuuu..."
Serena learned for the first time that even the mere movement of bugs could make quite a loud sound when there were thousands upon thousands.
The entire body of the outlaw, who had been screaming and rolling on the floor, was instantly covered with small spiders.
And when the spiders scattered after not even a few seconds had passed.
Nothing remained in that spot.
"..."
It was enough for Serena to gather information.
Brutality that regarded human life as easier than bugs.
The title 'Priest' from earlier.
Bizarre sorcery she'd never seen before.
And even the mention of 'offering.'
That old man was a continental enemy of the most heinous kind.
An End Order priest pursuing destruction and annihilation.
A dark mage who gained power by offering tributes to fallen deities.
Serena faint stack 2.
"Don't worry, child. I won't cause you any harm."
"Didn't you just call me an offering...?"
"I did."
"Forgive my impertinence, but... then aren't you causing me harm?"
"What nonsense! Your fleeting flesh will disappear, but He will find your soul lovely."
"We, we have slightly different worldviews..."
The priest, bowing his upper body, stroked Serena's head with a benevolent smile.
"Wait patiently. As soon as preparations are complete, I'll carve up your brain to extract information and then offer a burnt sacrifice. Soon you'll enjoy the blessing of sitting beside the heavenly throne and receiving His favor."
Serena faint stack 3.
"Aah..."
She couldn't hold on anymore.
Serena fainted with a thud.
***
Since the entrance was crowded with guards and customs officers, one couldn't slip in and out of the Labyrinth Demon Realm secretly.
They thoroughly identified identities and purposes, and if suspicious individuals were discovered, they would be immediately surrounded and interrogated.
However, the reality was that even outlaws found side paths to come and go in and out of the Demon Realm.
It wasn't such a difficult task for Jurgen.
"Vic."
[This way]
The winding geography of the Labyrinth Demon Realm was no problem either.
Jurgen ran without hesitation in the direction Vic pointed, as if holding a compass.
"This is the place."
The hard, dry stone floor passage of the 5th floor ended, and heavy, damp air stabbed his lungs.
The landscape unfolding beyond was actually ambiguous to even call a 'Reward Room.'
The entire cavity, wide enough to fit dozens of stadiums, was a massive swamp.
Gaunt mangroves stood lined up like bones, and twisted tree roots were ominously tangled in the black, murky swamp.
The only light came from strange fungi sporadically emitting blue light.
If Serena had been dragged to a place like this, the culprit was certain.
Outlaws who had established themselves in places unreached by other adventurers' footsteps in the Demon Realm.
"As expected, outlaws are involved."
Though he'd anticipated it from when Vic guided him toward the Demon Realm, it seemed Rex had outlaws under his command.
Then Rex wasn't simply a lackey of a competing company.
An enemy of the kingdom.
In other words, an existence to be eliminated.
"Vic, please search."
[48 people]
"Dangerous targets?"
[3rd Rank Knight 5][4th Rank Knight 1][5th Rank Alchemy 1]
Forty-eight people.
And befitting outlaws who had set up base in the 5th floor area, there were several troublesome targets.
The small fries were probably at least 2nd Rank too.
"Any special notes?"
[Priest, one]
On top of that, a dark mage priest with combat power rivaling 6th Rank...
"Good work."
But nothing was different.
Just one more certain reason to deal with Rex had been added.
[Tired]
Vic, who had expended strength on pursuit, drooped as if exhausted.
"Vic, hang in there a little longer. I'll let you rest soon."
[Okay!]
After patting Vic's head, Jurgen's form scattered into the darkness.
.
.
.
The Black Fang Gang's base was on planks spread haphazardly over mangrove roots.
Strongholds made of planks were connected by bridges for passage, and each stronghold had sentries posted for guard duty.
After all, outlaws were criminals, so they were prepared for external dangers.
"Haaah..."
5th Rank Alchemist, outlaw Frank, yawned wide and stretched while tossing stones fwip fwip into the swamp.
Looking at the swamp bubbling up with foul-smelling foam made his chest feel stuffy anew.
"Why did my life turn out like this..."
Frank was a case where his abilities as an alchemist were excellent but his character couldn't keep up.
To make a lot of money quickly, he'd backstabbed and plundered other adventurers.
The earnings were decent, but he eventually got caught and a warrant was issued, leading him to join the Black Fang Gang.
Though he barely saved his life, he had to hide his body in a garbage dump like this with trash.
Having to be deployed to guard duty, an utterly ridiculous job, as if those criminal bastards were playing soldier.
"Goddamn, as if anyone would crawl into this shitty place."
Frank, who had been blowing off steam and lamenting his fate, couldn't even imagine.
In the middle of the heavy, murkily settled swamp.
The existence of an intruder quietly diving and approaching.
That the intruder would suddenly pop out and wrap a wire around his neck.
"Ghk!"
Like putting a noose around a duck's neck and pulling.
Frank's body was instantly dragged into the swamp.
Resistance was meaningless.
Overwhelming force, as if caught in factory machinery, pulled him to the swamp bottom.
"...!!! ...!!!"
He couldn't see anything.
His neck hurt.
Sewage seeped in through his nostrils, and his mouth that should be screaming was filled with mud.
Though he flailed his limbs, he only thrashed a few times in the lead-heavy swamp.
'Palette, my Palette...'
If only he had his Palette, he could counterattack.
If he could at least pull out an alchemy catalyst from there.
Using his Unique Code to...
Thump.
A thunderous sound reached Frank's ears as he desperately groped at his waist, and his consciousness cut off.
It was the sound of his cervical vertebrae twisting and shattering.
Frank's corpse, whose Palette at his waist had disappeared, sank endlessly below the swamp.
A most fleeting end for a villain.
The Labyrinth Demon Realm was especially good for outlaws to hide.
Because one floor's area was wider than Nortaris, and if all floors' areas were combined, it was wider than the northern territories.
However, being good for hiding and having a comfortable life were completely separate issues.
The Black Fang Gang's hideout, prepared in a corner of the 5th floor, was utterly crude in every way.
Living like savages isolated from social infrastructure.
The only pleasure was passing time pickled in alcohol or gathering in groups to gamble.
Today too, outlaw Harok, who had been fidgeting with cards, frowned at the sudden commotion.
"Guhk! Guh-wheek!"
Colleague Schwill the Liar appeared in a fluster, crossing the bridge.
"Schwill? What about your guard duty, coming here?"
Harok stood up from his seat and pulled out a club.
If he was trying to slack off telling nonsensical lies again, he planned to crack his head open.
"I, intruder... cough, cough! There's an intruder!"
"This bastard's at it again. I'm not falling for it, asshole."
"This time it's real! Th, that bastard, fuck, fed me something weird!!!"
At first he thought it was a prank, but the serious expression and atmosphere.
"Intruder? That bastard fed you what?"
"Are you a kid? Why'd you eat something a stranger gave you?"
"I didn't eat it—that bastard forced it into me!"
"What did he feed you?"
"I don't know! Fuck, hurry up and call everyone! That bastard's no ordinary bastard!"
The moment other outlaws, sensing something amiss, gathered.
Only Harok, who was some distance away, saw it properly.
Flash.
The scene of light rising from the mouth, nose, ears, even eye sockets of Schwill the Liar, who had turned pale.
"Wh, what... what is this aaaaah!!!"
—Thump!
A dull explosion sound following Schwill's scream.
Schwill's fragments, turned into a human grenade by the 'delayed detonation,' hit other outlaws before they could react.
Those near the explosion died instantly from shrapnel.
Those outside the effective range suffered large and small injuries and screamed.
"Guh-wheeeeek! My eyes! My eyes!!!"
"What? What? Suddenly! What?!!"
When the survivors scattered in panic.
—Shwick
—Shwick
From the thick darkness, silent silver flashes flew.
Covert and lethal sniping aimed at vital points, combining 'Search,' 'Precision Aim,' and 'Pursuit.'
Each trajectory that drew a straight line added one more corpse.
Fleeing, running, hiding, trying to block and dying.
Ambushes tended to neutralize even properly trained regular troops.
Organized counterattack couldn't be expected from a ragtag bunch whose only advantage was cruelty and viciousness.
"What bastard!"
The only surviving survivor, Harok, pulled out his club.
Harok had also been caught in the explosion, but he was a 4th Rank Knight.
A 4th Rank's body was solid enough to block spear blades with bare flesh.
—Clang!
Harok opened his eyes wide and reflexively deflected a sharp metal fragment flying at him.
"Cowardly tricks...!"
The opponent was skilled at sniping.
If he fled anyway, he'd just get hit by an attack from behind.
Having finished his judgment, Harok covered his body with Magic Power and leaped in the direction the shots came from.
"Found you!"
In the darkness as sticky as the swamp.
He saw a man with an expressionless face, two fingers extended forward.
There was no camaraderie.
Like a kicked beast baring its teeth, there was only a male whose pitiful pride had been stimulated.
"I'll burst your hea... d..."
The opponent was an alchemist.
Moreover, an alchemist specialized in ranged attacks.
Strength drained from Harok's body as he tried to close the distance in one breath.
And belatedly, he felt a foreign sensation in his nasal cavity and tingling spreading throughout his body.
His tongue tasted metal, and his lungs hurt as if they'd tear.
Though he tried to move his body, he couldn't budge even a finger.
Only now did he notice that the area around where this man stood was particularly hazy.
"Y, you... cowardly, bastard..."
Poison.
When Harok realized that fact, he'd already collapsed face-down on the dirty planks.
"You're the last one."
Harok desperately rolled his eyes to look up.
Using vicious means to turn enemy soldiers into living bombs, shooting metal fragments at someone essentially unable to resist.
Yet an indifferent expression as if pulling weeds from a garden.
Transparent pupils that felt no emotion or pang of conscience.
More than that.
"La, last...?"
Including Schwill, eight people had been at this stronghold with Harok.
There were six more Black Fang Gang strongholds in this swamp.
Today wasn't particularly a 'hunting' day, so there would have been dozens more colleagues.
One of them was a 5th Rank Alchemist who had acquired a Unique Code.
Yet all the other strongholds had been taken down?
Though the distance between strongholds was considerable, without any commotion?
Was that possible?
The man who walked to his bedside aimed two fingers at Harok's temple without a word.
He instinctively realized death had approached right before him.
Why was it?
What suddenly came to mind was an urban legend he'd giggled about over beer at a tavern.
A story that was utterly messy, befitting an urban legend.
That Britannia had a special forces unit that buried the kingdom's enemies.
An utterly groundless and absurd story with not even a speck of credibility, that the special forces had been involved in the downfall of every once-flying criminal organization.
Probably that organization's name was...
'S, Se... Secret Burial Unit...'
Why such a trivial story came to mind at what might be the last moment of his life...
Was it because it had been such a trivial life?
'Farewell.'
That was the last thought Harok had.