The woman lowered her head, voice soft but firm.
"Yes. My husband was murdered. I'm saving up money to hire an assassin… to take revenge for him. That's all I can tell you."
Jon's eyes drifted to the chest beside her, then back to her face.
"You wouldn't need that much for a regular assassin," he said coolly. "You're trying to hire someone from Night Raid."
The woman's body flinched. She instinctively stepped back, eyes widening in fear.
The Night Raid, the name alone was enough to make nobles tremble. The Empire had painted them as monstrous criminals, merciless killers hiding in the shadows. But the truth was more nuanced. Night Raid only targeted the corrupt and powerful criminals. They didn't touch innocents. In fact, they were aligned with the Revolutionary Army, clearing the path ahead of the rebellion.
"So," Jon continued, "if you're after Night Raid, that means your target… is a noble."
Her lips trembled. She clenched her fists and said through gritted teeth, "Yes. What of it? Are you going to report me? I don't care. I'll find a way to avenge him, no matter what it costs!"
"Even if it means other people might die because of you?" Jon interrupted.
"…What?" The woman blinked, confused by the sudden shift.
Jon let out a slow sigh. "So you didn't know… You've contracted a venereal disease. It's transmissible. I came here to confirm if you were aware of the danger you pose to others. Because if you knew, and you still continued this business, I would've had no choice but to kill you as well."
The woman stood there, frozen, shame and horror overtaking her.
"But…" Jon said, his tone softening, "you're lucky. You ran into me."
He raised his gaze and spoke plainly. "I can get your revenge. Just say the word, and by tonight, I'll deliver the head of the man who killed your husband, right to your doorstep."
The woman stared at him, eyes wide. "You… You're with Night Raid?"
Jon shook his head. "No. I'm better than Night Raid. And I don't charge as much, either. They're a full organization, they've got logistics, funding, operations. Me? I'm just one man. I work alone. No need to fund an entire army."
She hesitated. His words sounded convincing, and his calm confidence unsettled her more than any threat. But still… he looked so young. No reputation. No name. No proof. What if he was bluffing? If she gave him this money and he disappeared, she'd never have another chance to hire Night Raid.
Sensing her doubt, Jon smiled slightly.
"I get it. You're unsure. That's fine. Just give me the target and everything you know. I'll do the job first. If you want him alive so you can end him yourself, I can do that too. Payment comes after."
That promise pierced her hesitation like a blade.
"…All right," she said quietly. "Bring him to me. Alive. I…I want to do it myself!"
Jon snapped his fingers, his tone turning casual. "Now tell me, who am I hunting?"
The woman took a deep breath and began to explain.
Her targets were two men: Ogre, a captain in the Imperial Guard… and Gamal, a wealthy oil merchant.
As she spoke the names, Jon's mind clicked. Just as he'd suspected, this was tied to the main storyline.
It wasn't a coincidence. His system often ensured he bumped into plot-relevant characters in every world he visited. Whether it was Death Eaters in Harry Potter, aliens in Men in Black, or demons in Demon Slayer, fate always nudged him toward the heart of the story.
The woman continued, fury seeping into her voice.
"Ogre takes bribes from Gamal. Every time that bastard commits a crime, Ogre finds some poor soul to frame. My fiancé… he was innocent. But they needed someone to blame, and he was executed in his place. Please, avenge him. I beg you!"
In the original story, Ogre was one of the first warm-up targets Night Raid handed to Tatsumi. A tutorial boss. A warm-up kill. Nothing more.
Jon nodded. "Got it. I'll bring you both of them tonight."
As he turned to leave, the woman dropped to her knees behind him.
"Thank you… Thank you!"
***
Red Lantern District.
Jon knew that Gamal, the oil merchant, had a taste for luxury, especially when it came to women. A man like that wouldn't settle for second-rate brothels. He'd go straight to the top. So that's where Jon headed first.
In the original timeline, it was Akame and Leone who took Gamal down. They slipped in silently, killed quickly, and vanished into the night.
But Jon had no interest in stealth. For trash like Gamal, being subtle was just a waste of time.
So instead, he went loud.
He changed his clothes into a flamboyant, dazzling outfit. Then, using a Transfiguration spell, he turned mud and junk into solid gold bars. With swagger in his step and fake riches in his coat, he strutted toward the most elite house in the district.
With a heavy boot, Jon kicked open the front doors, walking in like he owned the place.
The patrons inside were ready to shout, until they saw him. Golden robes. Gleaming aura. Confidence that screamed nobility. Their anger turned to silence.
Jon found a chair, propped one leg up, and called out,
"Where's the madam of this place?"
An older courtesan scurried over, voice syrupy sweet.
"Welcome, dear master. What sort of girl are you looking for tonight? We've got every kind—just say the word."
Just then, a hefty gold chunk slipped from Jon's sleeve and clattered to the floor.
The madam's eyes lit up.
"Oh my!" Jon said lazily. "Dropped a bit of dirt. Pick it up for me, would you? Don't want to get my hands filthy."
Around the room, jaws dropped. The audacity! The arrogance! But none dared say a word.
The madam quickly pocketed the "dirt" and nodded.
"Of course, my lord. Let's not soil your hands."
She turned and shouted,
"Ladies! Come out and greet our honored guest!"
Dozens of dazzling women emerged like a parade, lining up with practiced elegance.
The madam smiled proudly.
"Whichever one you fancy, she's yours. Or maybe… you'd like two? Three? Even seven or eight?"
Jon narrowed his eyes, then stood.
"What did you just say? Two or three? Do you take me for some beggar noble?"
He cleared his throat and bellowed for all to hear—
"I want them ALL!"
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