Chapter 19

The bright and splendid imperial capital may be a place of privilege, but not everyone can partake in its benefits.

The slums of the imperial capital. A final destination for those who have fallen into poverty, a gathering place for the destitute.

Behind the bustling streets, this dark and foul-smelling area is overflowing with homeless people with dead eyes and garbage, with the worst possible hygiene and security conditions.

However, it serves a purpose by concentrating social misfits in one place, and the administration does not actively attempt to resolve the issue. After all, to resolve it would mean evicting all the residents of the slums, which would require a great deal of money and blood, making it a difficult situation to tackle.

In other words, it is essentially a lawless zone. Due to its nature, not only the poor but also criminals gather here, using it as a hideout.

A decent person would never set foot in such a place.

"Noel, this is it."

When my name was called, I turned around to see a man emerge from the shadows. He looked like a typical young punk, with a thin smile on his face.

I had come to the slums to follow this man.

"Roki."

I spoke his name. Incidentally, Roki is an alias. He has a real name, but no one knows it.

"Coming to such a dirty place, of all places. If you want to do business, we could do it elsewhere. What if the smell gets into my clothes?"

I voiced my legitimate complaint, and Roki shrugged.

"Sorry about that. But I'm always walking a tightrope, you know. I don't want to do business in a place where I can be seen during the day. I'm sure you feel the same way, right?"

"Even so, you could choose a better place. Unlike you, I live in the open. I don't want to be the subject of baseless rumors because of my visits to the slums."

"Hah, the one who turned his comrades into slaves has some nerve to say that."

"Shut up. It's your responsibility to be considerate. Isn't that right?"

"Alright, alright. So, don't make such a scary face, boss."

It's debatable whether he really understands, but he's not stupid. He'll be more careful next time. Separating emotions from actions is what a professional does.

"Here, the results of this time. Take it."

Roki handed me a thick envelope. When I checked the contents, it was filled with dozens of pieces of paper with fine writing. The information listed was exactly what I had requested.

"You always do a good job. You're the best information broker in the imperial capital. Your reputation as the 'Man of a Thousand Faces' is well-deserved. Before you, no secret can remain hidden."

Roki is an information broker, and one of the best in the imperial capital. If you pay the appropriate fee, he can even find out how many wrinkles are in the emperor's anus. His ability as an information broker is closely related to his job.

A Mimic, a combat-type job that allows one to copy the appearance of others.

Thanks to this job, Roki can enter any place. It's also a very rare job, and even the Appraiser's Association has not fully grasped its details. Once targeted, there is almost no way to prevent entry.

Moreover, he never lets his guard down. When dealing with clients, he changes his appearance individually and never lets anyone know his true identity. This punkish appearance is just one of many. He can freely change his age and gender.

His ability is almost like a mutation, and in fact, Roki has the blood of a shape-shifting fox, a yokai, mixed in. In other words, he is a hybrid. It's certain that those with rare jobs usually have special bloodlines.

"Thanks for the flattery. But I'd rather have money. How about adding a little color to the reward? You must have made a profit from the head of Gordo, right?"

He knows about the defeat of Gordo. Even though I know it, his quick ears are still frightening. This excellent information network is one of the reasons why Roki is known as a legendary information broker.

"I'll pay you. As always, the appropriate amount."

I paid the reward from my wallet, and Roki took it.

"Heh, anytime!"

"The next job, I'll contact you through the Owl Mail."

"Sure. -- Still, you're quite a character, aren't you?"

The curiosity in his eyes is unbridled. Roki continues, looking amused.

"Puppeteer Hugo Coppélius, wanting to release and make a companion of that 'serial killer.' You're really crazy, aren't you?"

"It's none of your business. If you don't want to lose your tongue, keep your mouth shut."

I glared at him, and Roki raised his hands.

"Oh, scary, scary. The grandson of the immortal demon is scary."

"Go on. I'm leaving."

"Wait a moment."

Just as I was about to turn away, Roki stopped me.

"Recently, a bad drug has been circulating in the slums. Be careful on your way back. I think it's safe during the day, but just in case."

"Bad drug?"

"A new stimulant. It's said to be the best high, but it has the side effect of causing violent behavior."

"Really? Such a dangerous thing is circulating? The Luciano family won't stand for it. Who's the boss behind this?"

In response to my question, Roki's expression changed.

"Actually, the drug is being distributed by the Gambino family, a secondary group of the Luciano family."

†

†

There is a rare job called a Composite Job.

Normally, jobs are divided into combat and production types, and their characteristics do not mix. Combat jobs involve combat-related skills, while production jobs involve production-related skills, with clear differences in the skills that can be acquired.

However, the Composite Job is different, combining the characteristics of both combat and production. The Puppeteer job is one such example.

A Puppeteer can use both combat skills to control and enhance puppets and production skills to create puppets and their weapons, giving them the strength to adapt to any combat situation.

While the intense consumption of magic makes it unsuitable for prolonged battles, among the versatile combat jobs that tend to be jack-of-all-trades, the Puppeteer, as a composite job, can be confidently called the strongest versatile job.

If I had the freedom to choose my job, and if I could set aside the emotional attachment to my great-grandfather being a warrior, I would choose the Puppeteer without hesitation from all the jobs.

In the face of its magnificent value, the reputation of being a serial killer is almost nonexistent.

Hugo Coppélius, also known as the 'Bloodstained Taxidermist.' A notorious serial killer who shook the imperial capital.

Currently, Hugo is in a prison in the imperial capital, awaiting execution. The Appraiser's Association is investigating his job for academic research, so his execution is not imminent. However, once the investigation is complete, there will be no reason to keep him alive. Probably, the limit is about three months.

However, thanks to the information Roki has gathered, the preparations to release Hugo are almost in place. If things go well, I plan to manipulate public opinion to clear his name as a serial killer. Then, I will welcome the rehabilitated Hugo into the Azure Expanse.

Of course, if Hugo were truly a serial killer, I wouldn't do this. No matter how excellent his abilities, releasing an uncontrollable monster would be out of the question.

But I am convinced that Hugo is innocent. Someone must have framed him and made him bear the blame. The poor Puppeteer was falsely accused.

Proving his innocence is not difficult. The problem is getting the authoritarian Ministry of Justice to reverse a decision that has already been made. This requires a lot of preparation, and one mistake could bring disaster upon me. I must proceed with caution.

Three months. How much I can accomplish depends on my talent.

'Alma, are you done? Where are you now?'

As I headed for the exit of the slums, I sent a thought to Alma. Her angry voice echoed in my head.

'Slow! Full Cat Restaurant! Hurry up!'

'Don't yell at me like that. I'll treat you, so forgive me.'

'Really!? Yay! All you can eat with someone else's money!'

The moment I said I would treat her, her voice brightened. What a materialistic person.

I've been to Full Cat Restaurant before. It was a good place with delicious food. I should arrive in about five minutes.

Still, I hadn't noticed it when I entered the slums, but upon closer inspection, it seems that the bad drugs are indeed circulating.

There are bloodstains everywhere, and human teeth and nails are scattered around. If Roki's story is true, this is the work of junkies who have gone berserk from taking the drugs. While it's safe during the day, it will likely become a dangerous area at night, with madmen roaming around.

If the junkies spill out and cause chaos outside the slums, it will be a serious problem. In fact, Roki's words suggest that the drugs are already widespread.

The boss is the Gambino family, a secondary group of the Luciano family. But why is the Luciano family allowing the secondary group to run wild?

Well, it's none of my business. The underworld has its own self-cleaning mechanism. Eventually, those in the right positions will resolve the issue.

The exit of the slums is in sight. The noise of the bustling streets is gradually getting closer. Along the way, something caught my eye.

"That's—"

At first glance, just a dirty homeless man. But something about him is different. Upon closer inspection, I realized he has a face that is not commonly seen in the imperial capital.

"An Easterner..."

Most of the people here, excluding criminals, are immigrants who have lost their minds or bodies and can no longer work. An Easterner is a rare sight. While there is trade, the number of Easterners who settle in the imperial capital is limited.

He's about my age. His black hair is matted and his eyes are faded. Moreover, he seems to have a bad leg, as he is sitting and gripping a long stick.

How pitiful. I couldn't bear to wait for death in a foreign land, especially at such a young age. He must have had dreams and hopes.

But it's not just someone else's problem. I could end up like that too. If I fail as an explorer and don't achieve a decent status, I could end up in a similar situation.

A clear metallic sound rang out.

On a whim, I dropped a large silver coin in front of the Easterner. Just ten thousand fil. It won't change much, but it should be enough for a warm meal.

"Hey, wait a minute, miss."

A sudden accented voice made me stop. It seemed to come from the Easterner. When I turned around, the Easterner was wobbling to his feet and approaching me.

"Huh? Miss? Did you call me 'miss'?"

"You dropped some money, didn't you? Here."

I was speechless as he handed me the large silver coin.

"What are you standing there for? That's your money. A large silver coin is a lot of money. Be more careful from now on."

"And, you shouldn't be in a place like this. I don't know why you're here, but it's better to leave quickly."

"Beautiful miss, huh?"

I can't see my face in a mirror, but I'm sure my expression is indescribable.

"What's with that scary face? Do you have a stomachache?"

"First, let me make this clear. I'm not a woman, I'm a man."

"Wh-What? A man!? I'm sorry..."

"And I don't need that money anymore. I don't want to put it in my wallet after it's been touched by a dirty homeless person like you."

"What!?"

"So, do what you want with it."

As I turned to leave, I sensed the Easterner approaching.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

The moment his hand was about to touch my shoulder, I delivered a roundhouse kick to the Easterner.

"Ugh!"

The kick hit the Easterner, who flew back and clutched his stomach, gasping in pain.

You're tough. I held back, but I intended to knock you out.

"Don't touch me. Know your place."

"...Huff, huff, you really did it, didn't you?"

The Easterner's face twisted in anger as he gripped the stick at his waist.

I don't like fighting, but I'm not so naive as to let this insult go unanswered. Sorry, but I'm going to make you suffer a bit.

The Easterner, now in a combat stance, looked surprisingly competent. I thought he had a bad leg, but it seems he doesn't. There was no stiffness typical of amateurs, and his posture was very refined.

A former mercenary? At the very least, he's not just a homeless person. The stick, though a simple weapon, could cause serious pain if struck hard.

Interesting. Very interesting. Let's see how far you can go.

"Apologize now, or it's too late."

"Who's going to apologize, you idiot?"

"Is that so? Then—"

The Easterner lowered his stance deeply.

"Die here."

In an instant, the Easterner closed the ten-step distance in a single step.

Fast!

I couldn't react in time. The stick was swung horizontally with deadly precision. If it hit, it would surely break bones.

But I can dodge.

"What!?"

The Easterner must have thought he would finish me with that one strike.

At the moment of impact, I was leaning back sharply. The stick passed just in front of my nose. I had dodged, but my balance was off. I couldn't straighten up. So, I used the momentum to perform a backflip.

As I did, I extended a kick towards the Easterner's jaw.

"Ugh!?"

A kick aimed at the jaw, intended to knock out with a single blow.

Surprisingly, the Easterner dodged by simply turning his head.

I landed the backflip and took another step back to create distance. The Easterner also didn't pursue, maintaining his distance and staying on guard.

The Easterner wiped the blood from his cheek, split by my kick.

"Scary acrobatics. Are you a ninja?"

"Ninja?"

Ninja... Ah, a ninja!

If my memory serves, a reconnaissance-type job that exists only in the far eastern island nation.

So, this man came from there.

"I'm not a ninja. I'm a Talker."

"Talker? What's that? ...Well, it doesn't matter. I see you're strong. So, from now on, I'll use my 'techniques.'"

The atmosphere around the Easterner changed. A powerful killing intent, like facing a strong demon, was directed at me.

This clear difference, he wasn't serious just now.

"Haha, you're the best. I apologize for the rudeness. You've piqued my interest. So, I'll get serious too."

I pulled out a knife from the holder on my thigh and held it in a reverse grip.

"If you don't want to die, show me your full strength."

"Hah, that's my line!"

Excitement swelled in my chest. This Easterner is strong. Perhaps as strong as Alma, the legendary successor. I never thought I'd find such a gem on the street.

If this Easterner is as strong as I imagine, then—

"...Whoosh