Infiltrating the Back Alley
Knock knock.
"Who is it?"
"It's me."
The door creaked open, and Ash—looking like she'd just rolled out of bed, her hair a messy tangle—poked her head out.
Still sleepy, she covered her mouth with a small yawn and asked,
"What's up?"
"You free tomorrow by any chance?"
"Ah... no, I'm not."
"?"
"It's, y'know, that time for girls."
"Ah."
I nodded in understanding.
"Okay then. Get some good rest. Want me to grab you some banana milk?"
"I prefer chocolate milk."
Chocolate milk. I had exactly one stashed away.
Honestly, I didn't wanna give it up, but I couldn't exactly say no.
It's that time—mess with her wrong, and...
"...Here."
In the end, I handed over my precious stash. She flashed a sweet smile and took it.
"Thanks. I'll head back in then."
"Yeah, okay. Night."
Click.
Shit, this is a problem. I need her for this.
Who should I bring instead?
The muscleheads we got are me, Ash... that's it.
Professor Eroy?
What the hell am I supposed to trust there?
Mana oaths aren't ironclad. If she finds some loophole we missed and spills to someone...
...Worst case, Professor Nipella.
Even that feels iffy.
My first run-in with Professor Nipella was in the forest. He nearly got jumped and killed by a black mage, then stumbled into my temple.
Point is, he's useless in a straight physical fight—and might even get snuck up on.
...Mosik might work?
Mosik's physical stats?
His skills lean more "defense" than "sword." Our class together is basic swordsmanship, so he handles blades fine, but his real talent is tanking.
He won't die. As long as it's not an instant kill, I can revive him.
...The dodgeball KO last time doesn't count.
...Or Eodukshini?
-?
Eodukshini's not powerhouse-level.
But he can provide support. Like blocking hits aimed at vitals—neck, head, that sort.
Problem is, I don't fully trust the little guy.
-What're you staring at?
"Staring at you, dummy."
-Ow!
First things first—gotta prep other stuff.
Masks and gear to hide our identities.
I was deliberately picking out masks at a secondhand shop when I felt a familiar presence.
"?"
Mosik.
He was stealthily browsing masks—sneaky for such a big guy, but super suspicious.
"Yo."
He flinched hard!
I walked up and called out, and his solid shoulders jumped.
"What're you doing here?"
"...What are you doing here, Eugene?"
He slyly hid the mask he'd been eyeing behind his back.
Dude. I can see it.
"Picking a mask. But seriously, what about you? Why buy a mask? You heading to some shady masked ball or something? If you get a girlfriend, don't bring her around me."
I'll salt the earth with jealousy and chuck you into a pit of fire.
And buying masks on the sly screams secret masked ball—probably with lowlifes.
Separate from that, couples just piss me off.
Mosik cleared his throat awkwardly at my savage warning and shook his head.
"...No, sir. I just need to hide my identity for something."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes. And my girlfriends are Barbells and Protein..."
"Shut it, musclehead."
"Pardon?"
"Whatever. Where you going? Something you can't tell me?"
"...Yes. Sorry."
"Fine then. Just don't dive into the underworld. You'll lose gains."
Mosik's body jolted at my words.
"...Muscle loss...!"
"...I didn't say you will. You might."
Reacting like I stole his girl...
Anyway, I split from Mosik and went with Jenella to see Professor Nipella.
He looked flustered after I explained the situation.
"Just the two of you?"
"Yes."
"That's dangerous."
"I know. That's why we're keeping it small. Realistically, you or the cops can't go. They'd bribe their way up top to shut it down."
"...Please don't hit me with facts like that. It hurts."
He set down his empty coffee cup.
"Anyway, you're right. Given my position, I can't move freely. That's why I was gonna leave it to you, Eugene... but two is reckless. You need at least three."
"That's why I'm recruiting one more. Got any recommendations?"
"What about Ash?"
"Ah. Magic day."
"...Can't be helped then. There's one student I'd recommend."
"?"
"Mosik Karma."
"??"
Why's he popping up?
"If you explain the situation, he'll help."
That sparked a thought.
...Wait.
Was all that tardiness and mask-buying related to this?
Good thing it wasn't a masked ball.
I'd have been the lone solo.
"Oh, right. Before we go, gimme a play script or something for acting practice."
"?"
"...I see. I'll help."
Mosik signed the mana oath and accepted right after hearing our story.
Whew, lucky.
He's trustworthy enough. Especially since he owes me—and he's no flake.
"So the constant class tardiness was tied to this too?"
"...? No, sir. That was purely personal. Father taught me special muscle-growth methods."
"...Uh, yeah. Sure."
"If you want muscles like mine, Eugene..."
"Pass."
Muscles are cool, but not your kind...
"...A shame. You gotta build in your growth spurt. Mine exploded from rapid gains, but you could totally..."
"Cut it out, dude. We're leaving tomorrow—get ready."
"Understood."
"Cool."
-Hmm. Take this one, or that one...
Eodukshini pondered seriously in front of two masks.
Sheesh.
What slime agonizes over that?
"You don't need to worry about it."
-What? Discrimination! I have a right to care about style too!
"You can't even use it. No face."
-...Fact check! Anyway, I'm wearing one!
"Fine, that gold one's pretty."
-Too flashy.
"Black one then?"
-Too plain.
"Wanna die?"
-Black it is.
Don't pad with weird shit.
Satisfied, Eodukshini pocketed the mask and we left Sky Island.
The Back Alley was in a city not far from Sky Island.
Just like Seoul or my past life had slums and rundown spots in the boonies, this world did too.
"...Filthy."
"Good call making you wear the robe."
"...Not just to hide your priest robes inside?"
"Bingo."
"..."
Back Alley was more a label than an official group.
Vagabonds, assassins, black mages, criminals—they all flocked there naturally.
Our target was the biggest cluster.
I adjusted my deliberately flashy mask and asked Mosik before entering the alley.
"No big boss here, right?"
"Yes. Guys calling themselves 'Dark Kings' tried ruling it a few times..."
"And?"
"All dead."
So the biggest spot was also the least controlled—pure lawless zone.
...But that doesn't match the vibe.
I glanced ahead. An old beggar slumped with an empty tin can, like he was panhandling.
His grimy hat hid eyes that gleamed.
Dull, hazy. But instinct screamed: the color of a seasoned killer, one who's danced with death a hundred times.
And he wasn't alone. Several. No—everyone lining the street was a pro like that.
...Some overlord moved in.
A boss with the power, skill, brains to reshape this chaos overnight.
And the Arishion family's influence—puppeteering, dealing, sponsoring him.
"What's the plan?"
"What else? As a 'contact,' we go in."
"Pardon?"
I took a deep breath, steadying my heart.
Time to act.
But how much acting have I ever done?
Role models...
Bulria and Yahan. Channeling them, I subtly triggered the blessing.
It normally only kicked in for combat.
But technically, infiltrating the Back Alley organization wasn't "normal." Bluffing and bravado were key.
Subtle crimson glow envelops the body, then fades.
A faint red light shimmered around me, then vanished.
Something brushed over my head—like a familiar, gentle hand. Encouraging. I opened my eyes.
...The blessing hit harder.
And a memory—not mine—flashed in my mind.
Storming enemy lines bold as brass, posing as one of theirs, slicing the commander's throat.
Predecessor's memory.
...Perfect.
"Mosik. Jenella. React naturally to whatever I do. If you're unsure, play dumb and clumsy. Got it?"
"Uh? Oh, yeah."
"Yes, sir."
I pretended to hesitate, paused, then strode boldly into the alley.
Mosik and Jenella followed.
Mosik kept a hand near his waist, ready for trouble.
I kicked the leg of the strongest-looking beggar.
"Hey."
Like a machine button pressed, he bowed stiffly, pleading.
"...I have a daughter at home, milord. Just a coin, please."
"No coin for trash like you."
I pulled a coin from my pocket and tossed it roughly into his tin.
Arishion family crest stamped on it.
Fake, obviously.
"Here for a trade delivery with your boss. Guide me."
"...This is."
"Don't make me repeat myself, worms."
First time trying, but it felt natural?
Didn't know my voice could drop that low.
Amazed inside, but outside I haughtily tilted my chin—like Bulria or Yahan.
The old man looked up.
His one good eye met mine.
"What're you staring at?"
"...Nothing. My apologies."
He stood.
Unlike his scrawny, pathetic look.
In an instant, he was an assassin.
"...An esteemed guest in our humble lair. Follow me."
"You. Big guy."
"...Yes."
"Answer faster. Tsk! Stand in front."
"And you."
"Y-yes?"
"Tsk... Brought you for 'opportunity,' but you're all slow trash. Only good as corpses. You, behind me. Protect from filth."
Jenella and Mosik looked thrown by my sudden shift, but played newbies—awkwardly taking front and back.
Why no heads-up?
Because of what they wanted.
Corpses...
All Black Forest bodies were torched last week. Their supplier's ass is grass.
But a family contact shows up with corpse-fodder?
What does that scream?
"Guide me quick. I wanna leave this dump."