Ch 3
NEYMAR
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Episode 03
The old man appeared shortly after I had completely mastered mana compression.
“The talks went well. I’ve paid the fee, too.”
He was with a hulking, bald man, who looked me up and down before speaking.
“Hm, so it’s you.”
For some reason, he looked puzzled.
I didn’t pay it much mind and bowed my head slightly in greeting.
“I’ll be in your care.”
“Right. Just leave it to us.”
“It’s getting late, let’s get going! I want to get a good night’s sleep!”
His spirits high, the old man strode into the building first. The hulking man gestured for me to follow, so I did.
We entered the building without any issue, and I let out a small gasp of admiration.
…Whoa, what is this?
The entire way, the old man had repeatedly praised the place, saying it was fantastic, but I hadn’t really held high expectations. Even if it was run by former mercenaries, they were still beggars, weren’t they? I hadn’t imagined the facilities would be any good. The building’s exterior was certainly covered in signs of age.
And yet.
It’s way better than I expected.
The interior, completely unlike the outside, was so open and spacious it defied all my assumptions. The floors were marble, and bright lights were installed in the ceiling. One wall was lined with neatly stacked supplies, and there were more than a dozen rooms that appeared to be for guests. You could say this place was more luxurious than most inns or hotels.
A place like this exists in District 7?
As if noticing my surprised expression, the hulking man asked in a low voice, “Surprised?”
“Yes, well… it’s unexpected. How is this possible?”
“You could call it the power of magic. The space, the lighting, the supplies… there isn’t a single thing here untouched by magic.”
“Is there a mage living here?”
“Yes, a rather high-level one. He’s also our leader. Ah, here he comes now.”
I turned my head to follow the man’s gaze.
A sharp-featured man with his yellow hair slicked back was approaching us.
“Oh, you’re our guest?”
“Yes. I look forward to working with you.”
“Haha, the pleasure is all mine!”
As he gave me a welcoming, friendly smile, I glanced around. Although there were over a dozen rooms, every single one was empty.
Looks like they don’t get many guests.
That struck me as odd. A place with facilities this good, yet no people? Then again, it wasn’t entirely incomprehensible. Beggars with no money wouldn’t be able to afford a place like this.
Suddenly, an ominous feeling crept over me.
…Just how much did that old man pay?
Could his jingling pouch have been filled with gold coins? What was I supposed to do if he demanded I pay back some ridiculous sum?
Just as I was worrying, the man with the slicked-back hair pointed.
“Your room is over here.”
My eyes followed his finger. The first thought that came to mind was pure luxury. It seemed to be the best room out of all the ones I’d passed. I could see a plush-looking bed, a table covered in elegant patterns, and even a private shower.
“You’re giving me a room like this?”
“You’re a guest who paid a fair price. Of course!”
Well… he had a point. But why did I feel so uneasy?
“Where is the old man’s room?”
“Ah, I’m right next door!”
I confirmed that the old man's room was just as luxurious, but the suspicion wouldn’t fade. Even if they were paid, was there really a need to treat a mere beggar this well?
“Why don’t you get washed up first?”
At the slicked-back man’s words, I pushed my thoughts aside and looked down at myself. My t-shirt was so faded I couldn’t tell its original color, and my pants were riddled with holes. A foul stench was wafting from them.
“…That sounds like a good idea.”
“Good thinking. There are fresh clothes inside for you. We’ll bring some food by the time you’re done.”
“…Yes, thank you.”
Following his instructions, I entered the room, threw my clothes into the trash, and headed straight for the bathroom.
Sshwaaa—.
Water gushed out despite the lack of any visible pipes. A filter automatically purified it. It was a showerhead powered by magic.
Is this some kind of sales pitch? Treat me well so I’ll come back again?
The uneasy feeling lingered, but such thoughts vanished the moment the water touched my skin. The warm stream melted away the grime caked onto my body. It felt as if all my accumulated fatigue was being washed away at once.
“…Ah, this is nice.”
Having been transmigrated into a beggar, I thought I’d have to give up this kind of life for a while. To be treated so lavishly already…
Squeak, squeak.
Feeling grateful to have met the old man, I washed every inch of my body. It wasn't until I was nearly finished that I wiped the steam from the mirror.
I stared silently at my reflection. It was the first time I had gotten a proper look at myself.
“…Not bad.”
A sharp jawline, pale skin, and well-defined features. I was soaking wet, but still handsome enough to be presentable. Even the dark circles under my eyes added a certain atmospheric charm.
If there was one flaw… it was that I was incredibly thin.
My cheeks were gaunt enough to look hollow, and the shape of my ribs was clearly visible through my torso.
…No wonder. I was exhausted after walking for only thirty minutes.
In a body like this, forget magic—even basic survival would be difficult. Come to think of it, they said they’d bring food. With this physique, eating was practically an obligation.
Knock, knock, knock—.
Right on cue, I heard a knock. I quickly put on the clothes that had been prepared and opened the door.
The man with the slicked-back hair stood there, holding a tray laden with food. It was, once again, a spread far too extravagant for a beggar.
“Now that you’re clean, eat this and get some rest. You must be tired from the journey.”
“…Thank you.”
As I took the tray, the man beamed, a kind smile that seemed to say he had not a single impure intention.
I turned my back, closed the door, and slid the deadbolt across for a double lock.
Click.
I set the tray on the table and sat on the edge of the bed.
Grumble, grumble….
My stomach churned noisily. But I just sat there, staring silently at the food.
The reason was simple. I could see something in it.
“…”
I slowly closed my eyes and replayed the day's events. The kind old man who paid my share, the hulking man’s puzzled expression when we first met, the strangely kind man with the slicked-back hair, and this luxurious yet completely empty establishment…
I had thought I was just lucky, but I had been too complacent.
…This is Devil Fantasy.
What kind of game was Devil Fantasy?
It was a world far removed from things like joy, hope, and happiness. It was a game filled exclusively with despair and frustration. My current situation should have been a testament to that.
District 7 of Asternon.
A place teeming with criminals and violent felons. It was not a place where kindness was offered freely. Everyone was on high alert, scrutinizing even the smallest details with suspicion. That was District 7.
And I was in it.
Screee.
With full awareness of the situation, I opened my eyes. Now I could fully accept what I was seeing in the food.
Visible only because of my ‘Constant Insight’ state: particles of green mana laced throughout the meal.
It was poison.
Knock, knock, knock—.
At the sound of knocking, I instinctively held my breath. A moment later, I heard hushed whispers from the other side.
“…Looks like he ate it.”
“Heh heh, you were right. I can’t believe it was this easy.”
“Let’s wait just a bit longer, just in case.”
The voices of the slicked-back man, the hulking man, and the old man.
Listening intently, I quietly slipped behind the door, a small knife clutched in my right hand. It was the steak knife the slicked-back man had given me with the food.
That was their clear and obvious mistake.
“…”
It was a relief. The trait wasn’t the only thing I brought with me to this world.
[The Sword Saint's Former Master].
The ultimate Spirit Imprint, the kind that anyone raising a swordsman would dream of.
It was time to put it to use.
CRASH! BANG! CRASH!
The door shook violently amidst a terrifying roar. The hulking man, having confirmed the door was double-locked, was now trying to break it down.
Amidst the chaos, my mind was racing calmly.
Magic is out.
My current skill level was barely enough to move mana, let alone cast spells. I had to use another method. Thankfully, I had an option.
[The Sword Saint's Former Master].
The effects were as follows:
300% Proficiency Correction with All Bladed Weapons.
Awakening during Melee Combat.
Accelerated Reflexes and Kinetic Vision.
Intuition Stat +30.
And even Fear Immunity.
It was a comprehensive imprint that contained virtually everything needed to become a Sword Saint.
KRAAANG!
The doorknob finally ripped free. As expected, the hulking man was the first to charge in.
“Wait, he’s not—.”
The man’s eyes scanned the room, and the moment they landed on me hiding behind the door…
WHOOSH!
I lunged forward, right arm extended.
Even though he was a full head taller than me, I felt it was entirely possible. Even if the weapon in my hand was just a small steak knife. Even if it meant plunging it into a living person.
The Spirit Imprinted upon my own made it possible.
—300% Proficiency Correction with All Bladed Weapons.
Squelch!
“GUAAAAAAARGH!”
The hulking man shrieked, clutching at his eye as bloody tears gushed down his face.
There was no need to wait for him to calm down. I swung the knife again, slashing it across his throat.
Spssssh!
“Gack, gurgle…”
Both of his hands flew to his neck. His hands were massive, large enough to cover his face, but they couldn’t stop the blood that gushed out like a fountain.
Finally.
THUD!
He collapsed with a heavy sound.
There was no time to feel relief at having taken down one enemy. The person behind him came into view.
The man with the slicked-back hair.
“You son of a bitch…!”
He wasn’t new to this kind of situation; he was already calmly preparing a counterattack, his earlier friendly smile completely gone. Right, he was the mage.
Fwoooom!
Mana gathered around him. It formed into characters, then shapes, and finally drew a circle in the air. For me, the entire process was a learning experience.
—Magic Comprehension increases by 300%.
I absorbed every detail of how mana was transformed into magic. A wave of understanding washed over me, as if a tangled knot in my mind had come undone.
“…So that’s how you do it.”
I judged that dodging the spell he was casting was impossible. [The Sword Saint’s Former Master] didn’t enhance my physical abilities. Therefore, there was only one way to overcome this.
Dismantle the magic.
—Magic Calculation Ability is maximized.
“Huh?”
The man’s furious expression turned to one of shock. It grew more pronounced as my fingers twitched.
“…Why is this…?”
Dismantling it wasn't hard. I just needed to understand the magic’s mana pathways and interfere with them. The proof was right in front of me.
…Fshhhh.
The fading magic finally dissipated into the air.
The slicked-back man froze, staring at the sight. His face seemed to be asking, How in the world did you do that?
There was no need to answer. I closed the distance and swung the knife.
“Guh, gack!”
He may have been the leader of this place, but in the face of death, he was no different from the hulking man. He crumpled pathetically, coughing up blood.
Only one remained.
Splash, splash.
I stepped through the pooling blood, walking past the corpses to stand directly in front of the old man, who was trembling uncontrollably.
“H-How did you…?”
There was no need to kill him quickly. What could a mere old man do?
So, I spoke.
“Why did you try to kill me?”
“K-Kill you! It wasn’t like that… Gack!”
I shot my hand out and choked him. My body was weak, but it was strong enough to overpower an old man.
“…Stop trying to think your way out of this. I’ll ask again. Why did you try to kill me?”
His airway constricted, the old man’s face turned beet red before he finally answered.
“…A-A mage’s heart sells for a high price.”
“And?”
“I… I saw you. I saw you manipulating mana…”
A scene I had forgotten flashed through my mind. The moment time resumed after I chose my trait, when the old man had looked at me with a bewildered expression.
“…It started back then.”
A bitter feeling churned in my stomach. I remembered our conversations.
—I’ll pay your share!
—Why? Because I’ve taken quite a liking to you!
—I know a good place for people like us to stay.
—I just need to talk to them, wait here a moment.
It wasn’t kindness.
It was a ploy.
A scheme concocted by a cunning old man who had intended to kill me from the very beginning.
“P-Please, forgive me! I was just… trying to survive! I had to! Any other beggar would have done the same in that situation…!”
“…Yeah, they probably would have.”
I understood completely. Humans were capable of anything if it meant their own survival.
And so, the old man should understand, too.
That in order for me to survive, I couldn’t afford to leave any loose ends.
“Same here.”
“N-No…!”
Thrust!
I plunged the knife into the old man’s neck. His trembling body soon went limp.
“…”
I slowly looked around the now-silent room. The bloody knife in my hand, the thick stench of iron in the air, the three corpses strewn across the floor…
I took it all in silently.
If their mistake was handing me a knife, then this entire incident was the result of my own mistake.
A mistake born of complacency.
A mistake of forgetting what kind of world this was.
“…Get a grip.”
It isn’t just devils that are dangerous. This is a world where demons disguised in human skin roam free.
The moment I fully acknowledged that fact, I made a vow.
“…No more mistakes.”
Never let this happen again.
Tragically, the first thing I did after falling into this world was not to kill a devil, but to kill a man.
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