"Victor, quiet down first! The wolves are patrolling, and the carriage must move slowly so the brief inspection will pass without the involvement of the full Dungeon Organization unit."
Victor turned his gaze outside.
"Why does that organization even have authority within this Empire?"
"Since the gateways into the underground lands across the central continent, agreements have stood since the Dragon Hunter Era—to bury what should have remained forgotten in history. Once you descend into darkness, the law becomes nothing more than human definitions and words."
Human definitions… Does that mean the people below are seen as different, or inherently more suited to dwell beneath because of powers beyond ordinary men? I'll keep that question for later. Truly fascinating.
"So the outer slums became lawless simply because people feared them? Shouldn't the Empire have stationed soldiers to guard against political upheaval that might arise?"
Daniel clenched his hands tight.
"The Dungeon Organization has no need to conquer the entire continent. The vast eastern territories alone already yield every resource they require, enough to sustain a population of at least one hundred million."
He paused, staring at the ruined city packed with brazen crime.
When Daniel gets serious, it's useful indeed. A man who trusts no one, yet pours out information to cooperate. In truth, he's valuable both inside and outside the Empire. Keeping him close is important… just like Selith.
Time drags on. Both Selith and Oliver, who may now be someone else entirely—what are they doing? Could they be rallying anew?
After news of my death, Selith must think I'm gone for good. A shame my reputation collapsed so utterly.
The sounds of drunken revelry echoed—boisterous laughter, the shameless pawing of women on bare tables. Organized muggings occurred in intricate patterns.
Many eyes fell upon the luxurious carriage, hungry with intent. Yet under the wolves' protection, the savage rabble retreated into their wretched alleys.
Along the route stood countless weapon shops worth exploring. Once, Victor had planned to build networks here for the Republic of Ven's scarce members. But now he doubted that runaway slaves could ever blend into this place.
Some humans wore collars like dogs. Frail bodies beaten mercilessly—men or women, flesh was just another commodity. Passing cages prepared for transport, Victor saw beautiful women and well-dressed men pounding at the bars with bloodied hands, desperate for hope—only to be slaughtered moments later.
Thick drug smoke spread like a suffocating fog. Figures grew more monstrous—hulking forms devouring the smaller, tearing out hearts and raising them high before devouring them.
But when a black-furred wolf lunged and swallowed the heart whole, the man attacked recklessly—only for the beast's jaws to engulf him in an instant, leaving nothing but a triumphant howl.
"Victor, let's return to our matter. If you truly wish to cooperate, reveal your true collateral—facts, your history, or the miracle you wield."
Amidst the suffocating air, Victor raised his palm and stared at the numbers etched upon it.
Good observation skills.
"Fine. I know how to make you believe I'll never betray you."
"How so, Victor?"
Victor's calm face betrayed nothing. But with only the faint blink of Daniel's eyes, the wind shifted across his expression—
Victor's fist shot forward with full force. He seized Daniel's collar and yanked him up.
"What the hell are you doing, you bastard! Let go!!"
"I won't. Not until you stop acting like a fool. Simply cooperating is worth plenty already—do you want to pay more than you have?"
"You're the one with the least to pay! And the highest risk!"
"Then die, Daniel Frether. Rot in your cage of blood."
With his other hand, Victor drew a pistol. In the heartbeat of his relentless decision—
A foul stench burst forth with shapeless fluid.
The Blood Sword materialized, slashing the pistol apart, its edge pressing against Victor's neck.
"Release me!! I won't endure your arrogance anymore. Do you think you can do as you please? Stand alone atop a mountain of blood? Utterly senseless!!!"
Daniel's hand trembled with hesitation.
"Then do it. If that's what you desire, don't waste words. Decide. Steady your emotions. Uphold your stance and revere your own judgment. Act as a true human would."
Victor gripped Daniel's wrist tightly, forcing the Blood Sword against his own throat. Silence fell—yet Victor's twisted smile surfaced, blending with the shadows.
The sword dissolved halfway, unraveling into wind, its power dispersing against unseen resistance—exactly as Victor had predicted.
Something within his chest had resisted.
That object did not merely defend against mental attacks, but also against attacks without physical form.
Only faint scratches marked him—yet no pain followed.
Perfect. A tool so fitting I needn't even remove it. Every vision, every warning of dragons—this object is a divine gift from the stars, urging me to flee from them.
Wait. According to Brian's reports of the war—the Star Worshipper. Could it be there is more than one? Different forms? Or factions competing for the star's relics?
I'll keep that thought for later.
He released the stunned Daniel, who collapsed onto the carpet. Victor leaned back into his seat calmly, gazing out the window.
"Seems we've reached our destination."
Victor extended his hand.
"If I ever betray you, just kill me with physical weapons—swords, guns, anything. That's my greatest weakness. Is that enough for your collateral?"
Daniel hesitated, then clasped his hand. From his coat, he withdrew a brass medallion—engraved with the sigil of coin, gold, and sea.
"For now, take this. The Frether Family Crest. Show it, and our people will grant you aid as you desire."
"When you wish to purchase something, just present this crest. The Frether treasury will be charged later."