As night fell, the sword-wielding city seemed to be covered by a cold, unseen hand. The constant clanging of metal that echoed throughout the day suddenly ceased, leaving behind an eerie silence.
In the basement of a secluded hotel, a bald mercenary sat gloomily against a wooden crate, his back hunched. Around him, more than a dozen companions stood or sat in silence.
At a desk nearby sat a young man in a sharp suit, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His expression was obscured by the dim firelight, giving him an air of quiet authority.
Noticing the cast wrapped around the bald man's wrist, the young man raised an eyebrow slightly.
"What happened?" he asked in a low voice.
"B-Boss…" the bald mercenary hesitated, his lips trembling. "It's nothing…"
"Explain."
The sharp command cut off any attempt at excuses.
This was how the boss was, never allowing ambiguity.
The bald mercenary steadied himself and spoke. "When I went to the guild to submit the escort request… I got into a conflict with a kid."
Several mercenaries who hadn't been involved immediately began to jeer.
"Hey, One-Eyed! You clearly lack courage. You couldn't even bring yourself to lay a hand on two kids?"
The bald man forced a laugh, but when he noticed the strange looks from his companions, the sound died in his throat. He lowered his head and said nothing.
In the heavy silence, the refined young man Baker Albera, whom they called "boss" slowly sharpened his gaze.
"You should understand the importance of this shipment," Baker said calmly.
"I don't want any uncertainties affecting the final transaction. Do you understand?"
The Albera Merchant Guild was one of the largest merchant organizations supporting the economy of the Labyrinth City. Baker, a member of the Albera family, was overseeing a special transaction involving an astonishing sum of Valis.
Because this was his first time handling a family-level deal, caution was paramount.
At that moment, one of the mercenaries who had accompanied the bald man stepped forward.
"It wasn't our fault. The two we encountered were members of a god's Familia. I saw their Familia crest. Because of that, we swallowed our anger and avoided trouble."
"Adventurers…" Baker's brows relaxed slightly. "You did the right thing. This cargo is no ordinary item don't provoke unnecessary conflicts."
He paused, then slowly sat down, as if recalling something.
"You said you saw their crest. Which Familia?"
The bald man thought carefully. "It was… a sword. With wings."
Baker's hand trembled as he wrote, leaving uneven scratches across the paper. Slowly, he raised his head.
"What did you say?"
"A sword and wings. I'm certain of it."
"Hiss—"
Baker sucked in a sharp breath.
Others might not recognize it, but someone who had lived in Orario for years would know immediately.
Astraea Familia.
The Familia that had been wiped out two years ago now revived.
At first glance, it wouldn't seem like a big deal. A newly reformed Familia was nothing special.
But
That madman, the ghost known as "Swift Wind," was still active.
Competitors had died without warning. No explanations. No mercy.
The Albera Merchant Guild's rise to prominence during the Dark Ages hadn't been clean. They were the sort who would do anything for profit. Not long ago, they had even collaborated with the Ishtar Familia to trick small Familia adventurers into mining ores on dangerous floors.
None of those adventurers ever returned.
If Swift Wind labeled them remnants of the Dark Faction
Then I'll be the one who destroys the Albera family!
No. We need to leave immediately.
But… what about the cargo?
Baker paced the cramped basement, thoughts racing. Sweat beaded on the bald mercenary's forehead as Baker finally spoke.
"You'll continue transporting the goods to the designated location. The local branch will handle the payment."
The bald mercenary looked stunned. "What about you, Boss?"
"Me?" Baker chuckled lightly. "I earn hundreds of thousands of Valis every minute. That's not something you need to concern yourself with."
"Y-Yes. Of course."
Although Baker did have another deal lined up, under these circumstances, he needed to reconsider whether continuing business with that mysterious partner was wise.
Ignoring the mercenaries, Baker quickly packed his ledgers and documents, slung his briefcase over his shoulder, and headed for the exit.
Before closing the door, he turned back.
"Remember, if you're caught red-handed, never mention the Albera Merchant Guild."
"It's written in the contract."
Because the goods weren't clean, the mercenaries had signed confidentiality agreements in exchange for generous compensation.
With a bodyguard at his side, Baker departed as the mercenaries silently watched him leave.
"What do you think the boss is really planning?" a thin mercenary whispered.
"Don't ask," the bald man said quietly, exhaling in relief as his gaze drifted toward the black cage shrouded in darkness. "Just do our job."
Unbeknownst to them, within the pitch-black, abyss-like steel cage
A pair of scarlet, vertical pupils snapped open.
Late at night, inside Cecil's Blacksmith Shop.
Shaka lay on his bed, stretching out his palm as he stared blankly at the ceiling.
Only now did he realize that he had experienced something dangerously close to intimacy with a girl.
"Does the black cat… have a bit of a crush on me?"
"This is the suspension bridge effect, right?"
Shaka sighed at the cruelty of fate.
Without another world, getting close to someone like Kuroneko who's sharp-tongued and aloof would have been nearly impossible.
"I'm not exactly the type people open up to."
Shaka recalled their online interactions.
"If it weren't for that bestselling author's pen name The Descendant I probably wouldn't have gotten a single word out of her."
Yet despite all these wandering thoughts, what truly weighed on Shaka's mind were Astraea's words.
Finding Dekomori and Kuroneko had been a matter of chance. One was a childhood friend who volunteered; the other had relied on resources and curiosity.
But Shaka had underestimated the cruelty of this world and the significance of their age.
Fortunately, although this was a real world, to Kuroneko and Dekomori it still felt like a game.
The real problem now was,
Who should he bring in next?
"First, I need to ask myself what I can offer them. Money? No… something more valuable."
"Only when our interests align can we move forward together."
Combat was painful. Blades cut. Fists injured. Running left one gasping for breath.
Shaka clenched his fist, the lingering sting reminding him of reality.
No one would endure that suffering without reason.
"I need people who seek strength for themselves, not for me."
"Only then can their true potential be unlocked."
He let out a quiet sigh.
"…I really am too soft-hearted. I can't become a ruthless capitalist."
With that thought, Shaka picked up his phone and began filtering through potential candidates,carefully choosing who would step into this world next.