The grand hall of the Ishtar Familia mansion was a sensory overload of crimson silk and an intoxicating miasma of degeneracy.
As usual.
It had been a few days since their return from the port city of Meren, and the few Ishtar Familia members who had remained in Orario had wasted no time organizing a small yet lavish welcome banquet for their Goddess.
The throne room had been transformed into a hedonistic playground. Dozens of Amazons swayed and spun across the central floor to the beat of drums and strings.
It was, of course, nothing more than an excuse for Ishtar to flaunt her wealth and torment Kali with bodily excess rather than the blood and iron the Goddess of Carnage preferred.
From her elevated dais overlooking the floor, Ishtar lounged across a pile of cushions, swirling a goblet of spiced wine with a smug expression.
"How are you finding Orario so far, Kali?" Ishtar asked, leaning toward the smaller deity sitting beside her. "And what do you think of my domain? A bit more refined than the mud and blood of Telskyura, isn't it?"
Kali took a massive gulp from her own drink and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She surveyed the dancers with an expression of drunken boredom.
"The city's disappointing. Not nearly enough blood running through the gutters, from what I've heard," Kali scoffed. "And the smells here are too artificial for my liking."
She suddenly burst out laughing, pointing toward the dance floor. "But I do like how my girls are doing their best to integrate into your 'civilization'!"
Forced into the middle of the dance routine by their own Goddess for her personal amusement were Telskyura's finest warriors.
Bache Kalif looked utterly miserable. The quiet Amazon was rigidly attempting to mimic the fluid, suggestive movements of the Ishtar courtesans, her face burning red beneath her thin veil.
"K-Kali-sama..." Bache looked up with pleading eyes. "D-Do we really have to do this? I feel ridiculous."
"Of course you do!" Kali cackled, slamming her drink onto the table. "It would be rude not to embrace the culture of your fellow Amazons! Now stop standing there like a stiff board and shake those hips, hah!"
Beside her, Argana Kalif needed no such encouragement.
The older sister was thriving. She'd abandoned the traditional Telskyura war steps entirely, moving to the beat with surprisingly seductive grace. She rolled her hips fluidly, tracing her hands down her chest and torso as she wholeheartedly embraced the provocative style of a Pleasure Quarter courtesan, putting every inch of her physique on display.
Without a shred of shame, she directed the entire performance toward the tall, dark-haired man leaning against the far wall.
Toji Fushiguro watched the spectacle with his arms crossed, his face deadpan. This party was a colossal waste of time, and Ishtar had forced him to attend.
Beside him stood Aisha Belka, looking just as annoyed and clearly wishing she could be anywhere else in Orario.
Meren had paid off. With the Kali Familia secured, they'd successfully recruited a private army of bloodthirsty, expendable shock troops. Now, the next phase was approaching.
Ishtar had promised to introduce him to her "underground friends" later and show him what she claimed was her ultimate trump card against Freya.
Not that it matters. She's going to fuck it up anyway.
Ishtar was a schemer, but her massive ego blinded her pragmatism. Meren was a prime example. If Toji let her handle the Freya ambush on her own, they'd all be slaughtered within minutes.
He needed to get more involved in her plans.
Being Ishtar's favored "pet" brought influence, sure, along with a degree of authority over some of her Amazon warriors. But he couldn't just start barking tactical orders at them—not that he even wanted to. That sounded like too much unpaid work.
Which was why he'd picked an unsuspecting slave to do it for him.
"So," Toji said over the music. "How's the new position treating you, Captain Busty?"
His new proxy leader was Aisha. She hated his guts, sure, but she was competent, level-headed under pressure, and reasonably pragmatic. That was more than enough to maintain some degree of competency in this house of sluts, and Toji wouldn't even have to lift a finger to keep them in line.
Well, he'd had to do a bit more than lift a finger in Ishtar's bed to convince her to promote Aisha...
"Fuck off," Aisha scoffed. "Who told you to recommend me as the toad's replacement? I didn't ask for this shitty job. Tammuz has been staring daggers at me all week."
She gestured across the room, where Ishtar's second-favorite male and second in command was glaring at the two of them. Toji had effortlessly usurped his position at the Goddess's side, and the Level 4 was still bitter about it—and about Toji taking him out with a single strike.
Toji lazily flipped Tammuz off from across the room, making the man's face twist with rage.
"Would you rather have a bigger dumbass in charge?" Toji asked dryly. "Shut up and be grateful, Busty. Besides, it's only temporary."
"Your dick must be magic if Ishtar-sama actually agreed to it," Aisha deadpanned, remembering her own past offenses against the Goddess—namely, the destruction of the original Killing Stone. "Considering my track record."
"I have my methods," Toji replied dryly, not wanting to get into the specifics. "So, how's the toad?"
Aisha sighed. "The Sword Princess cracked her skull so hard she'll be drinking her meals through a straw for the foreseeable future."
Toji let out a short chuckle. "Tragic."
"Indeed," Aisha muttered.
Neither of them gave two fucks about Phryne.
"What about the fox?" Toji asked, shifting the conversation. He was curious about her role in the Familia, given her broken technique. "Haruhime, was it? I need details on her."
Aisha's demeanor stiffened. She tilted her head toward the dance floor. "You should probably pay attention to your fan club instead of asking about other girls."
Toji narrowed his eyes and looked back at the floor.
Argana caught his gaze, executed a flawlessly smooth hip roll, and blew him a kiss with a wink.
Catching the interaction out of the corner of her eye, Bache suddenly stiffened. Her face burned even hotter as she awkwardly tried to put more energy into her own rigid performance, desperately attempting to match her sister's appeal simply because Toji was watching.
Toji felt a headache coming on. For the first time in his life, he genuinely regretted being too good at his job. He should've just killed the two of them outright when he'd had the chance in Meren. The last thing he needed was a pair of bloodthirsty barbarians acting like a pair of lovebirds chasing him around the city.
"Why the hell is the crazy one actually good at that?" Toji muttered, watching Argana's fluid movements.
Aisha smirked. "Since I'm captain now, the blonde one marched up to me this morning and demanded I teach her how to dance like a Pleasure Quarter elite for a 'special someone.'"
Toji stared at her. "...And you did?"
"I gave her a few pointers, yeah," Aisha admitted. "Consider it payback, bitch."
Toji stared at her smug, punchable face, debating whether he should put her straight through the wall.
"Toji-kunnn~"
Argana had slithered right up to him. Unlike Bache, she possessed absolutely no shame and had no qualms about making a move on her love interest.
"Why waste your time standing next to a second-rate whore when you could have all of this right beside you~?" Argana cooed, running her hands down her body.
"Virgin, you wouldn't even know where to put it," Aisha sneered, leaning close to Argana's ear. "I can give you pointers on that, too."
"Shut up, street hoe!" Argana hissed.
Then, out of Toji's line of sight, she lowered her hand and flashed Aisha a quick thumbs-up: "Catch up with me later."
Aisha smirked.
Clearing her throat, Argana leaned into Toji's personal space, boldly tracing a hand over the muscles of his chest.
"I can be rough. I can be gentle. Whatever you like, dear husba—gha!"
SMACK!
Before she could finish, Argana was launched backward, crashing through a wooden table.
The music screeched to a halt.
"Don't touch me when I'm thinking," Toji said flatly, his voice devoid of even an ounce of arousal or emotion.
"Hah! She never learns, does she?" Ishtar laughed from her throne, clearly delighted to see her prized property rejecting the foreign Amazon's advances.
Kali slapped a hand over her face with a loud sigh. "Heavens, she's embarrassing."
Bache stared at Argana's twitching body on the floor.
Watching her sister get flattened actually had its perks. She now knew that Toji didn't tolerate uninvited physical contact.
A few more broken bones for Argana, and Bache would have a complete psychological profile of the man!
Toji was a puzzle, but thanks to Argana, she was going to solve him in no time. Fufufu~
Aisha leaned her head back against the wall, enjoying Toji's obvious irritation. "Looks like you really know how to treat a lady, Gigolo!"
"Keep talking, and you'll be kissing that wall," Toji replied flatly.
Aisha raised her hands. "Touchy."
Argana pushed herself up from the splintered remains of the table, completely ignoring the blood pouring from her nose.
"You really are too prone to violence, Toji-kun..." Argana wiped the blood from her mouth, her eyes wide with ecstatic delight at being overpowered yet again. "Just like me! We truly are a match made in heaven! Our children will conquer the world!"
Toji stared at her flushed face in absolute disgust.
The bitch was actually getting off on being hit.
༻❁༺
The smell of the Dungeon never really washed out. It clung to the back of the throat, a repulsive mixture of damp earth and the foul stench of monsters.
'Kill monsters. Harvest magic stones. Return to the surface. Exchange stones.'
It was a painful cycle. Every day, Bell Cranel forced himself out of bed, his muscles screaming in protest, his mind completely detached from what he was doing.
He would march into the dark abyss of the labyrinth, swing his knives until his hands trembled with pain, and return covered in gore.
And for what?
'Kill monsters. Harvest magic stones. Return to the surface. Exchange stones.'
Why was he pushing himself so hard? To one day potentially surpass a golden-eyed, breathtakingly beautiful princess who had cruelly used him and hadn't even apologized? To prove something to a city and its people who had never seen him as a person?
What was his purpose? Money? Pleasure? Fame? Strength?
Yes. Strength was his purpose...but diving into the Dungeon to achieve it felt like swallowing a rag soaked in vomit and mud. Over and over and over and over—
"Hey, Bell..."
Bell blinked, pulling himself out of his dark descent. He was staring blankly at the fountain in Central Park, having just finished another Dungeon dive with Welf.
"Have you lost weight?" Welf asked quietly, concern evident in his voice.
Bell looked down at his gloved hands. "I...I'm just fatigued from the dive."
Welf's frown deepened. "You look like a corpse, man."
"I'm fine," Bell replied in a hollow voice.
Welf wasn't buying it. "I can tell you're still shaken by what those Far Eastern cunts did. How about you take the week off and focus on resting, huh?"
Bell bit his tongue. Ever since he'd arrived in this rotten city, it had been one shitty experience after another.
His grandpa was wrong. Orario wasn't the city of heroes he'd preached about nonstop.
It just...wasn't worth it anymore.
"Welf..." Bell let out an exhausted sigh. "I think I might quit..."
Welf's eyes widened. "What?"
"I don't think I'm cut out for this," Bell whispered, his shoulders slumping. "No matter how hard I try, I'm just...I don't think I have what it takes to be an adventurer."
"You— But— You said you wanted—" Welf stammered, struggling to find the words. "Quit and do what, exactly?"
"I could work the fields. I used to be a farmer, after all." Bell chuckled humorlessly, though the idea sounded more depressing than practical.
"That's the most boring job you could've picked," Welf replied dryly. "You can't be serious, right? You're a record-breaker, for fucks sake! A one-in-a-million talent! A mini-celebrity!"
"Well...I haven't decided yet," Bell muttered.
It was a massive decision. He'd need to pay off his Familia's debt for his knife and change his profession in the Guild's records, which meant filling out annoying paperwork and paying fees.
And the knife debt...
200 million Valis.
He couldn't even begin to calculate how many cabbages he'd have to plant and harvest to pay that off.
That was why he was still unsure.
He knew his goddess would support him no matter what he chose. But he needed to make sure he wouldn't become a financial burden on one of the few people left in his life who genuinely cared about him.
"Man..." Welf pushed his hair back with a worried sigh. "That's enough. I don't wanna hear it. You're not thinking straight right now. Just take the week off and clear your head."
"Welf, I can't just—"
"No arguments," Welf interrupted. "You're taking a break, and that's final."
Bell sighed. He was too tired to argue.
With the matter settled, they started moving away from Central Park, joining the evening flow of the city.
"So, what are you gonna do tonight?" Welf asked, attempting to break the silence.
Bell shrugged. "Goddess is out shopping. We were invited to a banquet, so she's getting ready for that. I'll probably head home, grab something to eat, and fill out some tax reports for the Familia..."
"So, you're gonna be all alone?"
"Pretty much," Bell muttered, realizing just how depressing that sounded.
Welf seemed to reach the same conclusion. His frown returned.
"I tell you what." Welf placed a hand on Bell's shoulder, leaning in a little closer with a sly wink. "You and me are gonna pay a visit to the Entertainment District and help you blow off some steam with the ladies. You know what I'm saying?"
Bell's cheeks immediately flushed red. Despite his current mood, he was still weak to this kind of talk. "W-Wait, no! I can't do that—!"
Welf laughed, clapping him on the back. "Relax, relax. I'm joking. But seriously, I know a nice 'bar' we can hit up."
Bell considered turning him down, but eventually shrugged. He was free tonight anyway, so why not go out with a friend?
What could go wrong?
Meanwhile, two new figures were emerging from the Dungeon into the evening light.
Liliruca Arde looked like a walking corpse, practically swallowed by her oversized robes.
Beside her walked a rugged, bald man with a tattoo on the left side of his face. He'd escorted her all the way from the 18th floor, making sure she made it out safely.
"Yoo-hoo!"
Lili instinctively buried her face deeper into her hood.
Leaning against a nearby stone pillar with a cigarette between his lips was Shiu Kong. The broker pushed himself away from the stone and approached them with a wide grin.
"How's my little princess doing?" Kong asked, his voice dripping with faux affection.
"She did fine," Gran grunted, crossing his arms. "Dix said the test run was a success. He's agreed to rent her out every now and then."
"Excellent!" Kong clapped his hands together. "If only you boys had come to me sooner, we could've gotten this operation running a whole lot earlier!"
"Dix will handle the payment," Gran said before turning around and disappearing back into the depths of Babel.
Kong hummed in satisfaction. "Come along, shorty."
Lili fell into step beside him as they left the plaza and made their way into the streets of the Merchant District.
"I gotta tell you, kid, we're lucky to have landed this deal," Kong said. "The Ikelos Familia is quite the client. I've done plenty of under-the-table information gathering for them in the past. They pay well."
Kong took a puff from his cigarette. "But who would've thought your little cosplay magic would be in such high demand with them? We hit the jackpot."
Lili stopped walking. She looked up at the tall broker, her eyes filled with exhaustion and resentment. "Why are you making me do this? You said I just needed to be your public face for the Familia."
"I did say that," Kong admitted without missing a beat. "But I also say jump, and you ask how high. That's how this works, kid. You're an asset, and I'm maximizing your utility."
Kong leaned down and flicked her forehead. "Besides, you should be thanking me. Zanis would've pimped you out for a few copper coins and pocketed the whole lot. I'm giving you a flat 50 percent cut of whatever the Ikelos Familia pays me."
Lili rubbed her stinging forehead and resumed walking, too exhausted to argue.
"So," Kong continued, his tone shifting to something more analytical, "what exactly did they do to you down there?"
"They didn't hurt me," Lili muttered, wrapping her arms around herself. "But...it was weird."
"Kinky weird, or Dungeon weird?"
"They forced me to transform into a monster," Lili explained. "An Almiraj. Then they made me go ahead of them, completely alone, and told me to speak. To say actual words in the dark."
Kong raised an eyebrow. "Talking as a monster? Were they targeting adventurers?"
"No," Lili replied, her voice dropping. "They kept hunting monsters. But they grew frustrated with every kill, saying things like, 'This is just a dumb one.' It sounded like they were searching for something specific."
"And did they find it?"
"I guess?" Lili looked deeply disturbed. "We found a Siren. The thing was drawn to my voice. When it came close, the Ikelos Familia jumped out of the shadows and captured it alive."
"Huh." Kong scratched his chin. He knew about the Ikelos Familia's monster-smuggling operations, but he hadn't realized they were so picky about their targets. "Weird job."
"Yeah..." Lili whispered, staring blankly at the ground.
She didn't mention how the Siren had looked at her when the trap was sprung.
Monsters were supposed to be mindless beasts, driven only by hatred for the surface world. But when that Siren had been pinned to the floor, struggling against its chains, it had looked directly at Lili in her Almiraj form.
It hadn't looked angry or savage.
It had looked betrayed.
The sheer sorrow and confusion in the creature's eyes had made Lili's stomach twist into knots.
Why didn't they just kill it? What were they going to do with it?
Why did it look so...human?
"Kong-sama," Lili said, desperately pushing those thoughts aside. "I've done everything you've asked. I've been your little mascot, I've secured the Familia's loyalty, and now I'm acting as your hunting dog for the Ikelos Familia."
Kong paused and looked down at her.
"When can I finally see Bell-sama?" Lili asked, her voice cracking slightly.
"Come on now, Dolly. You know I'm good for my word," Kong said, his voice surprisingly free of sarcasm. "It's just that right now? Your little victim isn't in the mood."
Kong turned away, adjusting his suit. "If you see him out on the streets, don't approach him. It won't end the way you want it to."
Lili felt her heart sink. Was Bell-sama really that angry with her?
"Welp, I'mma leave you be for now," Kong said.
"Where are you going?" Lili asked hollowly as the broker began walking away.
Kong waved dismissively without looking back.
"The Entertainment District is calling my name."
༻❁༺
Ba-da-da-daaa!
"Yippy-yeahhhh, there'll be no wedding bells for today!"
Trumpets echoed through the bustling halls of The Gilded Siren, one of Orario's many sanctioned casinos.
The air smelled of tobacco and sweet wine, perfectly complementing the smooth voice of the singer on stage, who was belting out a tune that sounded like it belonged in a completely different, post-apocalyptic universe.
"Welf, no! I can't do this!"
"Stop digging your heels into the carpet, Bell! You're making a scene!"
Just inside the entrance of the "respectable" establishment, Welf was trying to peel a white-haired boy off the doorframe.
Bell clung to the wood for dear life, his face pale. "This is a casino! If my goddess finds out I'm here, she'll skin you alive for bringing me here, and then she'll skin me!"
"Key word: IF she finds out!" Welf grunted, finally prying Bell's fingers loose and shoving him through the entrance. "Relax! Nobody from our circles comes to a place like this. You need a distraction, Bell! You've been moping like a kicked puppy all week. Go throw a few chips around. Lose a little money. The thrill of it will wake you up, trust me!"
Bell stumbled into the room, blinking against the bright lights.
While it wasn't one of Orario's high-end establishments, like the famed casinos in the business districts—many of which were operated by foreign agents—The Gilded Siren was a well-kept, legitimate betting parlor and one of the few locally owned casinos in the city.
"Since when is gambling considered therapy?" Bell sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping.
Welf shoved a small leather pouch into his hands. "Here. A thousand Valis. My treat. Go play that spinning wheel—roulette. Doesn't take any brainpower. I'm gonna hit the blackjack tables. We'll meet back at the entrance."
Before Bell could protest, the smith patted him on the back and disappeared into the crowd of gamblers.
Bell stood alone in the chaotic room, looking completely out of place. He shuffled over to the nearest roulette table, squeezing between three rugged-looking adventurers who were glaring at the board. The leader, a burly man with several scars across his face, shot the white-haired boy a sidelong glance before turning back to the wheel.
"Welcome, sir," the dealer said with a smile, practically smelling easy money on the clueless teenager. "Place your bets."
Bell didn't even look at the board. He opened Welf's pouch and dumped the entire thousand Valis onto a random square. Number 14, Black.
"Ah, betting it all on a single number! A bold choice!" the dealer said with a smile, though internally he was laughing his head off. Foolish brat! Statistically, that's one of the worst possible bets!
"Bro, you're throwin' your money away," Mord grunted. "The house loves suckers like you."
"Whatever. Just spin already," Bell muttered. He didn't care if he lost.
The dealer spun the wooden wheel and flicked the silver ball.
Mord and his two cronies, Scott and Guile, watched with anticipation. Bell simply stared blankly, wishing he were back home in bed.
The ball clattered, bounced off the wooden pegs, slowed down...and landed perfectly in the slot for Number 14, Black.
"Winner...?" The dealer blinked as if his eyes were deceiving him. A thirty-five-to-one payout. Beginner's luck. It had to be.
The dealer pushed a much larger stack of chips toward the boy. Mord's jaw dropped slightly, while Scott let out a low whistle at the sheer luck.
"Oh...um, okay," Bell muttered. He didn't even bother pulling the chips toward himself, instead lazily pushing them onto Number 27, Red. "I guess I'll just bet it all again..."
The dealer's eye twitched. Arrogant little punk. He'll lose it all now. The house always wins!
He spun the wheel harder this time.
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
Number 27, Red.
The entire table fell silent. One of the adventurers dropped his glass of whiskey onto the floor.
"Th-thirty-five to one..." the dealer stammered, his professional composure cracking as he slid a towering, ridiculous pillar of chips toward the white-haired boy. The pile was worth nearly 1.3 million Valis.
"Um. Neat, I guess?" Bell shrugged.
He pushed the entire fortress of chips onto Number 0, Green.
"Man, are you insane!?" Mord barked, his eyes widening. "Nobody bets on Green! The odds are a complete scam! Cash out!"
"No more bets!" the dealer yelled frantically, spinning the wheel so fast it nearly flew off its hinges. There's no way. Absolutely no way!
Clatter...bounce...click.
Number 0, Gre—
"Table's closed! You're done! Get out!" the dealer hissed, snatching the ball before it could settle properly. His face had gone pale. If he let this brat walk away with 46 million Valis, he'd be dead meat!
"Take your 1.3 million and go bankrupt some other casino, you little freak!" The dealer aggressively shoved 26 purple chips toward the boy, each worth 50 thousand Valis.
"Hey, what kind of bullshit is that!?" Mord roared, slamming his hands onto the table hard enough to rattle the wheel. "The guy finally hits a streak, and you shut it down before the spin even finishes!?"
"Yeah!" Scott and Guile chimed in, joining their boss in cornering the sweating dealer. "You piece-of-shit scammers! The second the house starts losing, you kick him out!?"
"S-security!" the dealer squeaked, shrinking back as the surrounding crowd began murmuring angrily in agreement with the adventurers.
Bell blinked, pocketed his purple chips, and casually stepped back as the shouting match escalated into a full-blown scuffle around the table.
"1.3 million..." Bell muttered in surprise. That was more money than he'd ever made since becoming an adventurer.
A tiny spark of dopamine finally pierced his bad mood.
That was mildly fun. Is this why Toji always comes to places like this? It's easy, too. Why does he always lose, then?
"Let's just find Welf," Bell muttered to himself.
He turned around, expecting his red-haired friend to be nearby, but the commotion had drawn a dense crowd that made it difficult to see anything.
"Excuse me, sorry, coming through..." Bell mumbled, barely paying attention to where he was going.
Suddenly, a drunken, pissed-off animal person shoved past him from the opposite direction.
Bell stumbled forward and toppled over the curtains of a private VIP booth.
He braced himself for a hard impact against a table, but instead, his face crashed into something incredibly soft and warm.
"My, my~!" a silky, amused female voice purred.
Bell froze. His face was buried between a pair of VERY exposed breasts. The blonde woman beneath him let out a soft chuckle, gently placing a hand on the back of his white-haired head.
"Aren't you a bold little one?" she giggled.
"S-S-Sorry about that!" Bell scrambled backward.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing, jumping my top girls—!" Kong snapped, annoyed at the interruption, before blinking in surprise.
"Kong-san...?" Bell muttered, recognizing the face.
Kong stared at him for a moment before smirking. "Well, well, well. Following in your Captain's footsteps and becoming a high-roller degenerate, huh? And diving headfirst into a woman's chest? Truly 'Rabid' as the rumors suggest."
"No! It's not like that!" Bell waved his hands frantically. "I'm just here looking for someone! It was an accident!"
Kong chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey. "Looking for someone? Is it Toji? I don't think he's hiding in that girl's tits."
"D-Do you know where he is?" Bell asked, desperate to change the subject.
Kong shrugged. "Last I heard, he's out of town on a 'special' quest. Don't bother looking for him."
"Ah..." Bell muttered, unsurprised. "So...are you here to play?"
"Hell no. I earn money, I don't lose it," Kong stated casually. "I own a share of this joint."
Bell let out a curious hum. "For a non-adventurer, you sure own a lot of properties..."
"It's called 'none of your damn business,' kiddo." Kong leaned in with a grin. "So? How much are you down? Don't worry. If you've gotten yourself into debt, Uncle Kong can pull a few strings to bail you out...in exchange for a little favor from the famed record-breaker."
Bell's eye twitched at the casual assumption that he'd lost everything.
"I'm up."
"Huh?"
"I'm up 1.3 million," Bell stated flatly, pulling out a single purple chip as proof.
Kong's brain short-circuited.
He knew for an absolute fact that Toji couldn't win a coin toss if his life depended on it. The man's luck was comically cursed. Yet this idiot, who couldn't even keep his own knife safe from a gutter-rat supporter, had casually won 1.3 million?
"Was...was it hard?" Kong asked, the gears rapidly turning in his head.
"No," Bell sighed, sounding bored. "It was pretty easy, actually."
"Easy?" Kong's smile widened. He needed to verify the claim. "Well, then...have a seat. Let's play."
"I really shouldn't. My friend is—"
"Nonsense! Just a few quick hands of cards between us," Kong interrupted, opening up a fresh deck.
"I guess I can play a game or two." Bell awkwardly sat across from the broker.
Kong quickly dealt the cards.
Kong picked up his hand. "All right. What did you get?"
Bell blinked at his cards. "Um...I got four faces that look the same. And a two."
Kong's cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth. He leaned over the table.
Four Kings.
Okay. Beginner's luck. Or maybe he's slipping cards.
Time to turn up the heat.
"Hey, sweetheart." Kong snapped his fingers at a passing waitress. "Bring my man here the 'Special Reserve.' He needs to loosen up."
A minute later, a glass of vibrant crimson liquid was placed in front of Bell.
It was Soma Wine. Specifically, an unperfected batch. Kong kept a steady supply of the drink at his properties to boost their popularity.
"Imported wine. Good for the nerves," Kong said with a disarming smile. "Drink up. Let's play another game. Blackjack this time."
Bell took a hesitant sip. His eyes immediately widened. The liquid coated his throat in a soothing warmth, loosening the tight knots in his chest.
"Oh! Wow, that's really good..."
"Right? Keep drinking. It gets better with each sip," Kong encouraged.
Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a sleek silver case, and slid a slender white cigarette across the table. "Smoke?"
Bell immediately waved his hands, recoiling slightly. "Oh, no, I don't smoke! My Goddess would kill me—"
"Relax, Mama's boy. You're already gambling and drinking in a casino," Kong pointed out dryly. "Besides, it helps take the edge off. You've had a rough time lately, haven't you?"
Bell paused, looking up with narrowed eyes. "And...how do you know that?"
"Same way I found your knife for you, heh," Kong chuckled, flicking open a lighter.
Bell stared down at the little white stick. The wine was already working its magic, making his usually strict morals feel fuzzy.
He'd been having a rough time. And a small, rebellious part of him was curious about what was so special about inhaling literal smoke.
It sounded stupid and ridiculous...but still.
"Oh, what the hell," Bell muttered, picking up the cigarette awkwardly and leaning forward so Kong could light the tip.
He took a drag—
"Ghah...cough, cough! Ghah! This is horrible!" Bell immediately choked, coughing violently. "How can you even inhale this!?"
"Man, it's a cigarette, not a lollipop," Kong chuckled, dealing the next hand. "You gotta draw slow and steady."
Bell glared at the devil's stick, his curiosity winning out over his burning throat. He took another tiny, careful puff. He still coughed a little, but this time it went down more smoothly. "Huh. I think I'm getting the hang of it."
Over the next ten minutes, Bell took sip after sip from his glass, utterly failing to pace himself against the delicious wine.
As the alcohol flooded his bloodstream, the chaotic noise of the casino dulled to a distant hum. His paranoia and depressing thoughts felt like they belonged to a completely different person.
He stared down at his cards, holding the cigarette clumsily between two stiff fingers as if it were a live firecracker. He was absolutely terrible at smoking.
"Heeey wait a minute..." Bell slurred, blinking through the gray haze in front of his face. "Why do I have...too many fingers? I only brought ten..."
"Let's hope Toji doesn't mind me messing with his kid like this," Kong muttered under his breath, glancing at his own hand.
He had a twenty. An almost unbeatable hand. "You're at fourteen. You want a hit?"
"Hmmmm..." Bell tapped his chin with his free hand, coughing softly on a bit of smoke and giggling at a joke only he could hear. "Hit me! Wait, no, don't punch me. Gimme a card."
Kong slid him a card.
A seven.
Twenty-one. Bell won again.
Kong's eye twitched.
What's with his luck? It's too damn good.
He needed one final test. The ultimate distraction to prove that Bell was the real deal.
As Kong gathered the cards, he casually eyed the drunken teenager. "So, Bell...got a girl of your own?"
Bell, his tongue loosened by the booze, let out a sigh. "Yeah...had one in mind. Wash...real pretty..." He stared blankly into his glass. "...but we don' talk anymore."
Kong raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? What happened? She dump you?"
Bell's repressed emotions spilled out in a messy ramble. "She wash...a real bitch, y'know? Only talked to me 'cause she wash inshtrested in Toji. He said she jusht did that so she could beat him in a fight..."
"Oof. Painful," Kong winced. "Though, to be fair, Bell, maybe you didn't understand her reasons all that well? I mean, I'd do plenty of crazy shit to get information on Toji, too, if I wanted to fight him. The man literally popped out of nowhere, as far as my guys could dig."
Bell hummed gloomily, slumping his cheek into his palm. "Mmm...maybe..." He stared off into space, his eyes glazed and unblinking. "...shtill like her, though...her blonde hair wash so shiny...so pretty..."
"Well, let me help you soothe that sore spot. Heh." Kong glanced at the two women sitting nearby in the booth.
He gave the blonde one a wink. "Donna, dear...our guest is looking a little lonely."
"Of course~"
Donna, the blonde woman Bell had crashed into earlier, slid right up next to him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned close.
Normally, Bell would be blushing, stammering, and trying to escape while his internal alarms screamed at the thought of Hestia's wrath if she saw him like this.
But right now?
It was too much hassle.
"Drink up, cutie," Donna cooed softly, her lips grazing the sensitive skin just below his jaw before leaving a gentle kiss.
Bell shivered, letting out a shaky sigh at the touch.
"You look so tense~" Donna giggled, playfully twirling a lock of his messy white hair.
Bell didn't push her away. The Soma Wine had demolished his usual restraint. He closed his eyes in a drunken haze, sinking into the comfort.
"I'm...m'tense," Bell exhaled, resting his head against the cushion. The neglected cigarette slipped from his limp fingers. "D'you have any idea—hic!—how exhaushting my life ish?" he grumbled, clumsily grabbing his fifth glass of wine. He was nearly a whole bottle deep by now.
"Oh?" Donna slipped even closer, leaning over Bell's face and completely blocking his view of the table and cards. "Tell me all about your exhausting life, sweetheart."
Bell blinked, his red eyes struggling to focus on the soft golden hair framing her face. His alcohol-soaked brain short-circuited, connecting the blonde hair to the only other blonde woman occupying his thoughts.
"C'mon, Ais...don' rush me..." Bell complained with a grin, mistaking Donna for the Sword Princess.
Donna blinked in slight confusion, but Kong merely snorted quietly.
Bell took another messy sip. "So...ash I wash shaying...my gear wash shtolen. By my own shupporter bitch. Can you b'lieve that?" He let out a bitter laugh. "An' my potion girl...total shcam. Stupid bitch...selling me shitty water..."
He swayed slightly, his shoulder bumping into Donna's chest. "An' my cap'n ish...heaven knowsh where 'nshtead of helpin' me out, the bum. And I almost died..."
He tipped his glass back, draining the last drops. "Thish city sucks. I should've jusht shtayed in my village...with the cows..."
"Poor thing," Donna trailed her fingernails soothingly along his jaw. "You don't need to worry here. You just need to relax."
Bell draped an arm loosely over the back of the booth, his vision spinning in circles.
He was officially plastered.
Kong quickly dealt a final hand of five-card draw. He picked up his own cards, a confident smirk returning to his face.
A full house. A phenomenally strong hand. "All right, kid. The ultimate test. Your move."
The concept of cards and money had long since slipped through Bell's fingers like water.
"I shtill don't under—hic!—shtand the rules of thish game..." Bell slurred heavily.
All the tension had left his neck, and his head lolled lazily to the side, coming to rest against Donna's warm chest. It was soft and pillowy, so he didn't bother fighting it.
With a careless flick, he turned his five cards face up on the table, not caring in the slightest what they were.
Kong stared at the cards.
Ten, Jack, Queen, King, Ace of Spades.
A Royal Flush.
The statistical anomaly of all statistical anomalies.
The broker recognized it immediately.
He'd just struck the absolute jackpot.
A golden player.
"Absolute cinema, Bell!" Kong laughed, slamming both hands onto the table hard enough to startle the drunken adventurer. "Me and you are gonna bleed the competition dry! Hahaha!"
"Hooray~" Bell cheered weakly, giving a sloppy thumbs-up before happily snuggling closer to "Ais."
༻❁༺
Hestia sat motionless at the dining table, staring unblinkingly at the bowl of potato stew across from her. It had gone cold three hours ago.
"Where is he?" She nervously chewed on her thumbnail.
Bell had been falling apart all week. Her precious boy looked thinner by the day, his smiles nowhere to be seen. The city was eating away at his soul, and she couldn't do a damn thing to stop it!
What if he'd finally been pushed over the edge? What if he'd gone back into the Dungeon alone just to prove a point?
Or, worst of all...what if Freya had finally made her move and taken her Bell-kun!?
Toji, you useless bum! What are you doing, letting that happen!?
KNOCK-KNOCK!
Hestia shot up from her chair, scrambled across the wooden floorboards, and nearly tore the church doors off their hinges.
"Bell-kun—!"
Hestia froze.
Standing on the front steps was a nervous-looking Welf, his eyes darting back and forth like a man preparing to dodge a bullet.
Draped over Welf's shoulder, utterly incapable of supporting his own weight and humming a cheerful tune, was Bell.
Her sweet, pure, innocent Bell was a complete disaster. His white hair was a chaotic mop, his jacket hung halfway off one shoulder, and he was grinning at the night sky like an absolute idiot.
"I got shpursssss..." Bell giggled, clumsily pointing at the moon. "...That jingle, jangle, jingle~ Hic!"
"Welf." Hestia's voice dropped dangerously low as an aura of divine dread slowly radiated from her tiny frame. "What is wrong with my child?"
"W-Well..." Welf stammered, his voice cracking. "Funny story, you see, Goddess...we were out having a bit of fun. Like guys do!"
Hestia's nose twitched.
She caught the incredibly sweet aroma of wine, smoke. And worst of all...the thick, overpowering scent of women's perfume.
Her gaze slowly traveled down to Bell's face.
Right there, stamped perfectly onto his left cheek, was a crimson lipstick mark. Another rested just below his jawline, while his collarbone was decorated with three more overlapping kisses, painted across his pale skin like a crime scene.
"Welf," Hestia repeated, the shadows in the doorway seeming to stretch into physical tentacles around her. "Who painted my child with the colors of a harlot?"
Welf swallowed hard. He carefully tried to peel Bell off his shoulder and prop him against the doorframe, but the moment he let go, Bell slid down the wood until he hit the floor with a soft thud.
"Am I melting...?" Bell mumbled from the doormat.
"Uhhh..." Welf took a slow step backward. "You know, Goddess Hestia, I'd love to stay and chat, but I just remembered I left my forge on. And my sword needs polishing. And I think I'm moving out of the city."
"Come back here!" Hestia lunged forward, her hands curling into claws.
"I swear I don't know what happened!" Welf yelled, spinning on his heel and bolting into the night with a speed that would have made a Level 4 jealous. "I only looked away for a minute!"
"I'll get you next time, smith! Just you wait!" Hestia screamed at the empty street before deciding that the traitorous weapon-maker wasn't worth abandoning Bell for.
She grabbed Bell by the collar, dragged him inside, and slammed the church doors shut.
"Sit!" Hestia barked, tossing him onto the sofa.
"Oof!" Bell bounced off the cushions, immediately tipping over and sliding sideways until he was practically upside down, his legs draped over the armrest.
He let out a goofy laugh and squinted at Hestia. "Oh, hey, Goddesh...why're you shtanding on the ceiling...?"
"Explain yourself! Where have you been? Who did that to you!?" Hestia demanded, pointing a trembling finger at the tapestry of lipstick marks on his neck.
"Hmm?" Bell blinked slowly. He lazily reached up and rubbed his neck, smearing two of the crimson marks together. "I dunno...shome nische ladies...they smelled like flowersh...and had really, really shoft pillows..."
"Soft pillows!? You—you—!" Hestia looked ready to breathe actual hellfire.
But looking at his deeply flushed cheeks, the dark bags under his eyes, and the vulnerable yet genuine smile on his face, her rage suddenly fractured.
It was instantly replaced by a crushing wave of guilt.
"You moron..." Hestia's voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes. "You reckless, stupid boy...Look at you, coming home completely trashed and smelling like a brothel! And it's all my fault!"
Bell stopped giggling. He blinked owlishly as a tear rolled down Hestia's cheek.
"It's because I'm useless!" Hestia sobbed, covering her face. "You've been so miserable, and I couldn't do anything to fix it! I can't make your life easier, and now you're seeking comfort from strangers. I'm a terrible Goddess!"
Bell stared at her, the rusty cogs in his alcohol-soaked brain slowly grinding into motion.
"Nooooo..." Bell slurred softly.
He slipped off the sofa, landing on his knees with a thud, then threw his arms around her waist in a warm, clumsy hug.
"You're not terrible," Bell mumbled, pressing his face against her stomach. "I love you, Goddesh. I really, really love you. You're the only one who took me in...when no one elshe did. The only one who lishtens...The only one who shees me!"
Hestia froze.
A volcanic blush exploded across her face, evaporating her tears instantly. 'He loves me. He said he loves me!'
"B-B-Bell-kun!" Hestia stammered, completely flustered, her hands hovering nervously over his white hair. "I mean—yes, I love you too, but—oh my, you're so bold when you drink! We're moving so fast—!"
Bell sighed happily, rubbing his cheek against her dress and squeezing a little tighter.
"I never really knew my mom...she died...before I could. But when I'm with you...I like to think she'd be jusht like you."
Hestia felt her racing heart slam directly into a brick wall.
"Warm when I'm cold..." Bell whispered, his slurred words growing quieter as his eyes fluttered shut. "Shafe when 'm shcared...Besht mom ever...I love you sho much..."
Hestia stared blankly at the opposite wall.
Mother-zoned.
It was a critical hit that bypassed all her divine defenses and dealt direct psychic damage to her soul.
She let out a hollow exhale.
Well. That was incredibly disappointing.
But as Bell snuggled closer and let out a soft, contented snore against her waist, the sting slowly faded.
Hestia smiled softly, wrapping her arms around him in return and gently stroking his messy white hair.
"You're a handful, Bell-kun," she whispered warmly. "But I'll take care of you. Always."
They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Bell shifted and let out a loud snort that ruined the moment.
"All right, all right, up you get, you heavy idiot," Hestia huffed, gently prying herself out of his iron-grip hug. "You need to sleep this off immediately. We have a big day tomorrow."
"Mmm? 'Morrow?" Bell rubbed his eyes, swaying on his knees.
"Apollo's banquet," Hestia reminded him, crossing her arms. "I refuse to let my Familia look like peasants in front of that sun-freak. I managed to get you a very nice suit and a beautiful dress for myself! Fufufu!"
She puffed out her chest proudly, though her smile quickly faltered. "Though...it was very expensive. We're going to be eating nothing but potato snacks for the rest of the week..."
Bell blinked blearily. The word expensive seemed to trigger a distant memory in his brain.
"Oh. 'S fine," Bell muttered, reaching out with a shaky hand and blindly dragging his backpack toward himself. "I did my taxesh 'night...Kong shaid I'm a golden gooshe...he gave me lotsh of money to play for him..."
"You did your—Bell, what are you talking about?" Hestia asked, completely lost. "And who is Kong?"
Bell grabbed the bottom of his backpack, hoisted it over the dining table, and dumped it upside down.
Hestia stopped breathing.
CLINK-CLATTER-CRASH!
An absolute avalanche of cold, hard, high-value Valis coins spilled across the wood. A literal mountain of wealth cascaded over the edges of the table, knocking over her bowl of cold potato stew.
"There'sh...five million there, I think," Bell yawned, scratching his stomach lazily as he crawled back onto the sofa. "Or maybe six...I dunno. Math is hard..."
Hestia stared at the table.
She looked at Bell.
Then she looked back at the table.
Six. Million. Valis. In cash.
Hestia's face drained of all color. Her breath caught in her throat as a cold sweat broke out across her body.
This wasn't Dungeon money.
This was cartel money.
This was 'bribe a city official' kind of money!
"Bell...!" Hestia squeaked, her voice climbing in pitch as she slowly backed away from the table in horror. "Did...did you rob a bank...!?"
༻❁༺
The descent felt endless, marked only by the shifting temperature and deteriorating air quality.
When the magical blindfold was finally pulled from Toji's eyes, he expected to find some shitty smuggler's den or a rundown ruin near Orario. Instead, his eyes adjusted to a subterranean construct of impossible scale.
They currently stood on a high ledge overlooking a massive pit. Above them, bridges crisscrossed through the gloom, connecting various chambers in what looked like an entirely self-sustaining military base.
Toji's enhanced vision easily picked out the unnatural gleam beneath the rocky surface of the walls. Adamantite. The entire superstructure had been reinforced with one of the most expensive and durable metals in this world, then covered with a fake rock coating. But for what purpose? Aesthetics alone?
Toji's mind immediately began running the numbers. The financial backing required to build an underground fortress of this size could easily overshadow the GDP of a nation.
How the hell does a place this huge exist right beneath the city?
Strategically, it was sound. Immune to surface sieges, untraceable judging by the lack of Guild interference, and large enough to house an army. The ultimate staging ground.
His brief awe at the architecture, however, quickly faded beneath the grotesque noises and the clanking of massive chains coming from the pit below.
This chamber was different from the others Toji had glimpsed. This one was a birthing chamber.
Below them lay a sunken sea of magic stones, glowing with a faint luminescence. At its center writhed Gugalanna, a Demi-Spirit avatar in the making. It possessed the mountainous, muscular body of a massive bull monster, but a green, parasitic torso belonging to a woman of heavenly beauty rose from its head.
It crunched on the magic stones without ever looking up. The wet, slithering sounds of its accelerated birth echoed off the chamber walls as dozens of white-robed cultists frantically hurled more stones into the pit, trying to keep the abomination from turning its appetite on them.
Toji stared at the beast, his earlier fascination with the facility's architecture giving way to disgust.
What the hell is that thing? Some kind of mutated monster hybrid?
Ishtar had proudly claimed it was her ultimate trump card against Freya, and somehow, Toji could tell she wasn't bluffing about its potential.
Suddenly, the bull-woman stopped eating.
The cultists were too busy shoveling stones into the pit to notice. It briefly looked up, its beautiful gaze passing over the gods before landing on Toji for a split second.
The Sorcerer Killer's eyes narrowed slightly as clear, semi-intelligent eyes focused directly on him, as if curious about his hollow existence in a sea of magic and arcanum.
Then it returned to crunching on its magic stones.
...What the fuck was that?
"Allow me to congratulate you on your safe return to Orario," Thanatos hummed softly.
The God of Death, leader of the Thanatos Familia and one of the last active pillars of the Evilus organization, turned away from the pit to address the robed Goddess of Beauty standing beside him.
"It could have gone better, but I managed to limit our losses in Meren," Ishtar replied, crossing her arms.
"Let us hope so, Madam Patron. Barca-chan lost a valuable client because of the recklessness of your allies down there," Thanatos said, his boyish smile remaining firmly in place despite the grim news. "We're investing heavily in this impending chaos of yours against the Freya-chan."
"You needn't concern yourself, Thanatos," Ishtar replied with a smile. "With the Kali Familia secured, that insufferable woman will—"
While the deities conversed, Valletta Grede prowled along the edge of the pit like a restless cat.
Also known as Arachnia, she was the undisputed highest-ranking commander among the current remnants of Evilus. Her heels clicked sharply against the stone floor as she aggressively chewed on her thumbnail, her paranoid gaze fixed entirely on the tall, muscular man beside Ishtar.
Ishtar had confidently claimed that the man was under her absolute spell. Charmed adventurers were supposed to be docile, hovering around their deities like moths to a flame.
But this man looked far too lucid and composed. There was no vacant devotion in his eyes, no trace of the usual infatuation.
Something was off.
Feeling the intense gaze on him, Toji slowly turned and met Valletta's paranoid glare with a flat stare.
"Would you like some kneepads?" Toji asked, his voice carrying clearly over the crunching of magic stones.
The two deities paused their conversation and blinked as they looked toward their followers.
Valletta froze. "...What?"
Toji took a step forward. "You've been staring at me like you want to suck my hog. Figured I'd ask if you wanted some kneepads. The floor looks pretty rough on the joints."
"Pfft!" Thanatos slapped a hand over his mouth, struggling to hold back a laugh.
Ishtar's lips curled into a smirk at Toji's blatant disrespect toward the mortal tactician.
"You arrogant piece of shit!" Valletta exploded, ripping her jagged cursed blade from its sheath. "Who the fuck is this? This place isn't a tourist attraction where you can bring any random street rat you find, Ishtar!"
"Watch your tongue, girl," Ishtar snapped. "It is not your place to question me."
Thanatos quickly stepped between them, raising his hands. "Now, now, let's not fight among ourselves. Though I admit, I am curious..."
The God of Death looked Toji up and down. There was something...different about him compared to the other mortals.
"You haven't properly introduced us to this charming fellow. One can't help but be suspicious when we're the most wanted faction in the city, after all."
Ishtar smiled smugly. "This is Toji, my newest and most efficient tool. He's the man who single-handedly took down three of the Gulliver brothers—and the same man who defeated the entire Kali Familia, including both of its Level 6 captains."
Her smile widened.
"And apparently, he's done a few odd jobs for your Violas supplying friends. That should be more than enough to prove his worth and establish his credentials."
Thanatos raised an eyebrow, his smile widening with pleasant surprise. "My, my. What a terrifying piece...You said he was working for our allies? Ah! You must be the one Revis-chan wants to rip his heart out!"
"Revis...?" Toji blinked. He wasn't familiar with the name. Then it clicked. "Ah. If you're talking about that skanky, red-haired bitch with the giant sword, she already got her ass handed to her the first time we fought."
Thanatos chuckled in delight. "Ah! Yes, yes, you're definitely the rogue piece belonging to our dear friend Enyo. I've heard quite a lot about your...aggressive competence from dear Olivas-chan."
"Don't get the wrong idea," Ishtar interrupted. "He is my piece. My weapon. Not this 'Enyo' and his clowns."
"Of course, of course. My apologies, Madam." Thanatos raised his hands in surrender.
"Are you all completely brain-dead!?" Valletta shrieked, completely ignoring the revelations flying over her head. "Look at him! There's no charm in those eyes!"
Ishtar's eyes narrowed. "You believe you understand my divine power better than I do?"
"I'm telling you, that guy is faking it!" Valletta's voice echoed through the chamber, startling a few cultists.
Toji sighed and looked at Ishtar. "I like you, Goddess. You're beautiful. Please step on me."
Well, he did like her body. So technically, he wasn't lying.
Toji looked back at Valletta. "Happy?"
"Are you fucking with me?" Valletta's left eye twitched violently. There was no way anyone was buying this half-assed act!
"I don't know, Valletta-chan. He seems pretty devoted from where I'm standing..." Thanatos scratched his cheek, looking amused. "Taking on an entire Familia is quite convincing evidence."
"Are you blind? Am I the only sane person in this room!?" Valletta looked between the God of Death and the Goddess of Beauty as if they'd both completely lost their minds.
"Is she always this loud?" Toji asked Thanatos dryly.
"Most of the time, yes," Thanatos replied brightly.
"Might wanna check her for rabies," Toji suggested.
Valletta stepped right up to Toji, glaring up at him despite the towering height difference. "I'll cut your fucking tongue out—"
"Enough, Valletta-chan," Thanatos interrupted. The God of Death could tell that stepping on this particular mercenary's toes was unwise. "I'm sure Madam Ishtar knows what she's doing."
Valletta's eyes twitched with frustration, but she reluctantly lowered her blade and stepped back.
"Salty bitch," Toji muttered.
He had to admit, though, that she seemed significantly smarter than the rest of the idiots in this room. He'd have to keep a close eye on her.
Thanatos clapped his hands together, smoothly moving the conversation along to diffuse the tension. "Let us calm down and return to the matter at hand."
Valletta scoffed, aggressively sheathing her blade. "What the fuck are you doing, Thanatos? Discussing sensitive operational shit while this CLEARLY uncharmed bastard is standing right here?"
"Can you swing your sword already so I can break your jaw?" Toji encouraged, making Valletta hiss in rage.
"He is bound to me, girl. His ears are my ears," Ishtar dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Continue, Thanatos. What's the matter?"
Thanatos let out a light sigh. "While we're certainly happy for Madam Ishtar and her success in securing Kali-chan's support, her actions in Meren have caused an intelligence leak to the Loki Familia through Njord-chan. Although I doubt they have enough concrete information to start digging into our turf just yet..."
"That's where I stepped in to cut our losses," Valletta revealed, slipping back into her element as a tactician. "With that naked idiot Njord getting busted, Rubato Ryan, the Meren Guild Manager, would've gone down with him. I sent our agents to secure all the paper trails and evidence of his involvement before Loki's mutts could find them. Then we used it to blackmail him into becoming our little dog."
"And a fine job you did," Thanatos chuckled. "That clueless fool is being paraded around as a hero and credited with helping take down the smuggling ring! Oh, poor Ouranos...He really is getting senile."
Valletta glared at Ishtar. "By the way, 'Goddess,' you need to hurry the fuck up with your little grudge match. We need your forces to take down the Loki Familia before they dig too deep into our operations. Stop playing the long game with Freya and crush her already!"
"Might wanna tone down the barking," Toji said, leaning into his role as Ishtar's devoted weapon. "And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."
"Huh!? What the fuck was that, dog!?" Valletta rounded on Toji, her expression furious.
"You see, idiot," Toji began, "you rush Freya head-on, and you'll lose half your people before you even get close to her. I've seen what that pork chops Ottar can do. You don't beat a monster like that by throwing more bodies at him. The key to crushing that bitch is stepping on her toes first."
"I agree with my devotee," Ishtar chirped, placing a hand against Toji's back.
Valletta glared at him, reluctantly accepting the tactical logic despite her hatred for the messenger. She also knew far too well the threat Ottar alone could possess. "Fine. Then what do you suggest?"
Toji looked at her. "I know how to rattle her panties as a start. I just need her somewhere public where she can't deploy her forces."
"A public venue..." Thanatos tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Apollo," Ishtar muttered. "That pompous fool is hosting a banquet for the gods. That bitch rarely misses an opportunity to show off at those parties."
"Could work..." Toji hummed.
A banquet, huh? Plenty of options to choose from...
He'd need to make sure a certain shortstack and a certain white-haired brat were attending first.
Thanatos's smile widened. "Oh, that's wonderful. Madam Ishtar, your new toy really is quite the planner."
Ishtar hummed. "He is what I want him to be."
"Indeed," Thanatos chuckled, stepping forward as his playful demeanor shifted into something slightly more calculating. "Which brings up a rather exciting opportunity. You see, Madam Ishtar...now that this charming fellow is fully aware of Knossos's existence, realistically speaking, we can't exactly let him walk away as a simple bodyguard anymore."
"Are you threatening my property, Thanatos?" Ishtar's eyes narrowed.
"Heavens, no!" Thanatos waved his hands defensively. "I'm proposing a promotion! Since he's now involved in our little schemes, it would be a terrible waste to keep him leashed in the Pleasure Quarter. Valletta-chan yearns for absolute competence in these trying times, and your man here clearly has a mountain of it."
"I don't trust this bastard. I still say he's faking it," Valletta said through gritted teeth. "...But if even half the rumors are true, then I suppose he isn't a complete moron."
Toji mentally groaned. Getting roped into this underground freak show's chain of command sounded like a massive headache.
Time to lay it on thick.
"What are you—eep!"
Ishtar let out a soft, surprised yelp as Toji closed the distance between them, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her against himself.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Toji said, looking down at Ishtar. "You're seriously gonna make me leave your comfortable side to run errands for these sewer rats?"
He gestured toward Valletta. "I mean, look at her. If I have to spend my time looking at that face instead of yours, I might actually go blind."
"I'll fucking kill you!" Valletta completely lost it, lunging forward. "I'll strip the flesh off your bones, you trash!"
"Valletta-chan, please!" Thanatos grabbed the furious tactician, struggling to hold back his laughter. "You're proving his point!"
"You're being too much of a baby, you know that~?" Ishtar reached up and ran a finger along Toji's jaw.
Thanatos wiped a tear from his eye, still restraining a rabid Valletta. "So, Madam Ishtar, would you be willing to lend us your weapon? It would give Toji-chan a chance to prove his worth and 'loyalty' to the rest of the organization."
Ishtar didn't like the idea of sharing, but the request stroked her ego perfectly. Evilus, the terror of Orario, was practically begging to borrow her strength because they lacked it themselves.
"There, there," Ishtar cooed to Toji before stepping out of his embrace. "He is an exceptionally expensive weapon, Thanatos. But as a gesture of goodwill, I suppose I can let him off his leash a little. Provided you compensate him appropriately for the agony of being away from me."
"Of course, of course! We have plenty of funding," Thanatos agreed brightly, ignoring Valletta's murderous string of profanities in the background.
Toji sighed in defeat.
At least Ishtar was considerate enough to make sure he got paid.
༻❁༺
The banquet hall of the Apollo Familia was a flashy spectacle, perfectly fitting for its patron deity's bloated ego.
Every surface seemed to be gilded in gold or draped in obnoxious velvet. The gods and goddesses of the city mingled in their finest attire, parading their chosen children around the hall like prized racehorses while exchanging thinly veiled insults expertly masked as high-society pleasantries.
For a normal adventurer, just being invited was the honor of a lifetime.
For Bell Cranel, it was currently the seventh circle of hell.
'Too loud. Everything is too damn loud,' Bell groaned internally, his eyes squeezed shut. Every noise felt like someone was repeatedly driving a hammer directly into his skull.
He was slouched in a guest chair near the edge of the room, looking thoroughly miserable as he nursed his hangover.
Sitting next to him was Hestia, dressed in a stunning blue gown that perfectly accentuated her figure. She looked absolutely gorgeous, radiating divine beauty.
Her expression was a mixture of deep maternal worry and barely restrained fury over Bell's late-night ventures and their spoils.
"Sit up straight," Hestia hissed, elbowing him sharply in the ribs. "We're already late because of you, and now you can't even hold your own head up."
Bell couldn't even form a proper word, his face resting in his palms.
Hestia sighed. She reached over and slid a cold glass of sparkling water garnished with mint leaves directly under his nose. "Drink this. All of it. Now."
Bell didn't argue. He blindly reached for the glass and took a long sip. The cold mint numbed his throat, slightly clearing the thick fog in his mind.
Seeing him actually comply, Hestia's angry facade cracked. She gently brushed a stray lock of white hair out of his eyes, though her voice remained a harsh whisper.
"Honestly, Bell...a casino? What possessed you? Are you completely insane? Do you want to end up like Toji!?"
Bell weakly lowered the glass, his rebellious streak flaring up just enough to override his common sense.
"What's...so bad about that?" he muttered under his breath.
Hestia heard him instantly. Her hand shot out and grabbed his ear, twisting it sharply.
"Ow! Ow, ow, ow!" Bell yelped, jolting upright and batting at her wrist.
"Do you want to end up a gambling, homeless bum who abandons his Familia to go bet on dog races!?" Hestia scolded, her eyes practically glowing red. "Is that the kind of man you want to be!?"
"No! No, I don't! I'm sorry!" Bell pleaded, wincing as the sudden movement sent a fresh wave of agony pulsing through his temples.
Hestia held the pinch for three more seconds to ensure the lesson had sunk in before letting go with a final huff.
"Then stay here. Do not move. Think about what you've done while I go and try to figure out how to sort out this...dirty money problem you've cursed me with."
"It's not dirty money..." Bell muttered in protest, rubbing his ear.
Hestia's head snapped toward him. "What was that?"
"N-nothing," Bell quickly deflected, sinking deeper into his chair.
"That's what I thought." Hestia huffed, then stood up, smoothing the front of her gown and giving him a stern look. "You got what I said, mister?"
"Yes..." Bell said weakly.
"Yes what?" Hestia demanded, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.
Bell froze. The color rapidly drained from his face, only to be replaced by a humiliating blush at the memory of last night's drunken confession.
"Y-Yes...M-M..." Bell stammered, praying for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
"YesWHAT?" Hestia repeated, her tone as cold as the Arctic.
"Yes...Mom." Bell stared a hole into his shoes, completely defeated. "You don't have to rub it in my face, Goddess. It was just drunken nonsense."
"Call it whatever you want. I don't care," Hestia giggled, practically radiating pink hearts at the title.
She placed the back of her hand against her forehead and scanned the crowded hall. "Aha! There's Hephaestus and the others! Stay put, Bell-kun. Mommy needs to talk to her friends~!"
She happily skipped off into the crowd, leaving Bell to suffer in his self-inflicted misery.
Bell watched her approach a gathering of familiar gods. Just the people he REALLY didn't like, and with whom he wasn't on particularly good terms.
He immediately recognized Takemikazuchi. Standing slightly behind the war god was a girl with dark hair—the girl from the Pass Parade.
Bell felt his eye twitch at the memory.
She was staring directly at him. Her face was tight with guilt, and as soon as they made eye contact, she leaned forward, taking a hesitant step toward him.
Thankfully, Takemikazuchi placed a firm hand on her shoulder and shook his head slightly. The god glanced at Bell's unapproachable state and silently decided it was a terrible time. Mikoto bit her lip, looking down at the floor as she stepped back into line.
Bell shifted his gaze, only to accidentally lock eyes with someone else.
Miach was chatting politely with Hestia, seemingly aware of the occasional glares she was directing past him but choosing to ignore them.
Standing behind him, using the god as a shield, was Naaza. The potion scammer.
Her eyes went wide the second they met Bell's. Panic and intense, crushing shame washed over the chienthrope's face. She immediately broke eye contact, frantically trying to hide from both Bell's rightful judgment and Hestia's gaze.
Then there was a blonde god in a white suit whom Bell didn't recognize.
Oddly enough, the blonde god looked right at Bell, flashed him a smile, and gave him a friendly wave and a wink.
Bell just stared at him with dead eyes, completely ignoring the gesture.
The only person in the group Bell didn't have a problem with was Hephaestus, who gave him a brief nod from across the room.
Hermes deflated at Bell's dismissal, his hand freezing mid-wave. He quickly coughed into his fist and looked away.
Was that not Bell? What's up with him? He doesn't look or act anything like how Zeus described him...
Bell rested his head in his hands. He closed his eyes, praying for a moment of peace...
"...I'm telling you, our new barracks are twice the size..."
"...Honestly, her dress is a season out of date. Who let her wear that...?"
"...dropped a Minotaur in three strikes. Easy money, but the Guild's tax rates are getting ridiculous..."
"...and the wine! Simply dreadful compared to Dionysus's vintage, don't you agree...?"
"...I heard the Soma Familia is getting quite rich ever since their adorable new captain was elected..."
'I can't do this!' Bell abruptly stood up, his chair letting out a harsh SCREECH that startled two nearby guests.
He needed a drink.
Bell navigated blindly through the sea of deities and adventurers, bumping shoulders and ignoring the annoyed mutters until he finally reached one of the refreshment tables.
He didn't bother checking the labels or brands. He randomly grabbed a tumbler filled with an amber liquid and took a sip.
He winced. It tasted harsh, burning the back of his throat with a fiery bite. It was nothing like the sweet, heavenly wine Kong had tricked him into drinking, but the burning sensation distracted him from his pounding headache for a moment.
He took another sip. Then another.
He was halfway through his second glass, leaning against a marble pillar and trying his hardest to fade into the background.
But he could still feel them.
Eyes.
Not the guilty, shameful stares of Naaza or Mikoto, nor the puzzled gaze of the blonde god. He felt as though someone were staring directly into his soul.
Bell slowly turned his head, searching the far end of the ballroom.
There, looking at him from across the dance floor, was a goddess with stunning silver hair and piercing violet eyes.
Goddess Freya.
She wasn't smiling. Instead, she was looking at him with such disappointment that Bell actually froze in place. It was the exact look a disappointed mother gave a child who had ruined their new shirt by playing in the mud.
Bell couldn't bear it and looked away, staring down at his reflection in the liquid inside his glass.
His white hair was unkempt. The dark bags under his eyes were prominent. His posture was slouched, and he was hiding in the corner of a high-society party, drinking liquor to numb a hangover he'd earned by being a gullible idiot.
He looked like a mess.
He felt like a mess.
He was a mess.
Bell glanced back at the goddess. She slowly shook her head, a silent gesture telling him to stop this madness at once.
For a second, Bell felt a pang of genuine shame. His grip on the glass loosened, and he started to lower it—
"Refill, sir?" a passing waiter asked politely, tipping a bottle and pouring fresh liquor into the tumbler before Bell could decline.
Bell stared at the full glass.
He thought about his miserable, backstabbing experiences in Orario...and arrived at a singular conclusion:
Fuck all that.
Bell ignored the Goddess of Beauty's stare and brought the glass to his lips, chugging the entire drink in one go. "Ah~ That hit the spot."
Far across the room, Freya let out a long, weary sigh.
"He gets worse each day," she murmured, her eyes narrowing in displeasure as she watched Bell wipe his mouth carelessly with the back of his suit sleeve. "His soul is being clouded by cheap vices and petty grievances..."
Standing behind her like an immovable mountain, Ottar observed the white-haired boy.
"If his current environment is the cause of his stagnation, Freya-sama...then perhaps we should intervene. With our guidance, his brilliance would be restored for you to admire."
Freya scoffed. "His environment isn't the problem, Ottar. It's that stain YOU failed to clean properly."
Her nails dug slightly into the fabric of her gown. "Why haven't you found him yet? That disgusting abomination. That horrible existence who dares to kill my children and play mentor to my Odr, dragging him down into the mud like a common street rat—"
Ottar sighed internally at her continuous rant, his stoic expression unchanging.
He wanted to point out that maybe that man, Toji, was merely one of the reasons for the boy's current downfall. That maybe, just maybe, Orario's cruelty was simply that effective.
But he wasn't stupid enough to actually say that.
Back at the pillar, the burning liquid had barely settled inside Bell when a cheerful voice cut through the hum of the ballroom.
"Well, well, well! If it isn't Orario's fastest-growing star!"
Bell slowly turned his head to find the blonde god he'd ignored earlier standing right beside him, wearing an infuriatingly charming grin.
"You know," Hermes continued, leaning casually against the marble, "a young man with a record under his belt shouldn't waste his palate on swill like that—"
"Do I know you?" Bell cut him off flatly, raising his glass to signal a passing servant for another pour.
Hermes blinked, his cheerful facade stuttering for a second.
"Ah...well, I guess it's rude of me to just barge in without an introduction, huh?" Hermes chuckled, offering a hand. "The name's Hermes—a friend of your goddess."
Bell looked down at the extended hand. His red eyes slowly tracked up to the smiling god.
Having experienced the sheer ugliness of this city's inhabitants nonstop, Bell had begun to develop a very specific radar.
Call it extreme paranoia, but he'd gotten better at reading the physical cues of the people around him—figuring out whether someone was hiding something or just being outright suspicious.
The usual stuff in Orario.
And this Hermes guy? Bell's instincts were screaming that there was more behind his smile than he was letting on.
"Pleasure," Bell muttered flatly, then turned to stare blankly at the dance floor as if the God of Messages had simply ceased to exist.
To Bell, disrespecting a god was well worth it if it meant being left the hell alone.
Hermes's hand hung awkwardly in the air, his smile frozen in place.
What the hell is this?
Had he gotten it wrong? Was this not Bell Cranel?
Where was the shy, overly polite boy? The nervousness? The stuttering admiration for heroes?
Was...was Zeus pulling some elaborate joke on him?
No, that couldn't be the case.
Hermes stared at Bell again, noticing that he'd already halfway through his refilled glass.
It looked like the start of a very bad habit...
Hermes picked up a glass of wine from a passing servant. "How about a drink together?"
༻❁༺
(Reached word limit on webnovel, swipe for part 2)