Chapter 175
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 175
Chapter Title: Kingdom - Hardrock Slum Lv. 167 (1)
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After being called by that title a few times, the little mage started to feel uncomfortable with it.
Up until now, there had been good reason to stick with it. How you address someone shapes how you perceive them.
"Little mage" was a perfect combo.
Didn't it just scream "someone who needs protecting"?
But that wasn't necessary anymore.
"You said we had to come up with a fake name anyway, right?"
"We did."
"Let's go with Remi. It's shorter and better."
"Wait, that sounds familiar."
It was from an animation that dominated an era.
Little mage Remi.
There wasn't a single similarity. She was a tall, haughty female mage with a plain face and a condescending smile.
Wouldn't it be more natural to think of Medea or some mythical villainess?
Of course, the lack of attackers had nothing to do with that.
Even if the threat was organized crime, this was still an upscale slum neighborhood with actual security.
Once they passed through the wrought-iron gate opened by the gatekeeper, darkness descended immediately.
It wasn't that the sun had set.
The atmosphere was just dark.
Unlike the orderly city streets further in, buildings here were haphazardly crumbling, and the residents lived among the ruins without even bothering to repair them.
Their hollow, sunken eyes showed no spark of will to live.
There were plenty of junkies, too.
If you saw smoke puffing up, that was a dead giveaway.
Starving kids prowled around like feral wildcats, sniffing out scraps here and there.
In a place like this, the only reason a female mage who looked like she had money wasn't attacked was the presence of the youngest.
Two meters tall, burly build, tattoos snaking across his arms.
The youngest dropped his rare gentle expression and donned the businesslike mask he usually wore outside.
A few scrawny junkies, rat-like in their gauntness, stared wide-eyed at the angel.
A woman that pretty was a rare sight in this slum.
The little mage—no, the female mage now known as Remi—caught the flicker of desire in their eyes.
The youngest shot them a glance and scowled, snuffing out the spark instantly.
It was somehow a familiar scene.
Her first steps as an exile had been in a refugee camp on the third floor, after all.
Now she truly understood what they meant when they said the kingdom wasn't some paradise.
Nothing special about it.
People like that were as common here as pebbles underfoot.
Most weren't exiles, though.
The descendants of exiles weren't exiles themselves.
"You actually lived in a place like this."
"Ah, well, I'm used to it..."
The angel said she'd always been a berserker. "Used to it" carried layers of meaning.
Remi sensed the hardship woven into those words.
Senior or not, veteran was veteran. Fifty-five years in—her nine years of intense experience couldn't compare.
Was that sunny disposition a source of strength that kept her going? Or the end result of something broken?
Watching the angel's calm demeanor—different from how she acted around their party leader senior—Remi pondered the possibilities.
Still, she clearly held the reins here.
The leader had made it so.
And the leader's judgment was spot-on.
The three of them walking these streets fit the slum perfectly.
The youngest had probably lived amid scenes like this his whole life.
It didn't take long to walk.
The upscale housing in the slums was mostly for the families of those with status.
Far from any business districts.
The organization around here that had given the angel the most work was fairly large, but no rankers to speak of.
The leader had bluntly called them small fry.
"Kingdoms that last a long time have huge non-exile populations anyway, right? Especially in slums like this—exiles alone are valuable assets."
The presence or absence of a Mind Map. That was the difference everyone in the slums, hell, everyone in the kingdom could grasp.
A blatantly intuitive gap in combat power.
That's why so many guilds coveted fresh newbie exiles.
True to the "small fry" label, the organization's entrance was laughably lax.
Amid shacks cobbled together from scrap and planks stood a lone concrete building that looked halfway decent—but the guards were a joke.
One was dozing in broad daylight, the other slouched and burning something that sure wasn't a cigarette.
Remi grimaced briefly.
To be honest, her combat prowess was abysmal.
Forget levels—her stamina and senses were lacking.
Real fights weren't about levels.
One-on-one, she'd lose to those guards.
She glanced left and right.
One side racial perks, the other pure physical gifts.
What a dirty world. Why was she stuck with this body?
But for now, she had powerful fighters following her lead.
Remi walked forward slowly.
The guards looked up.
They recognized the angel.
"Oh, Lady Angel. Long time no see. Need cash again?"
Remi turned her head.
"Using a fake name like that?"
"Hm, they say to hide a tree, plant it in the forest."
"Seems effective enough."
Who'd guess the most-wanted angel would pick "Angel" as her alias?
Bold or brainless?
She channeled her mana, igniting flames.
Remi hadn't shone much in combat, so her Labyrinth-measured contributions were low.
Even after that brutal tutorial, her level hovered around 160.
Luckily, Mind Map skills delivered impartial power regardless of talent or sense.
Fire Ball
"That's right—push from there and carry it upward. An angel's muscles have completely different fiber strength from a human's, so you can move like that without issue."
"Compared to when I was human, it feels different from just getting stronger. It's monstrous."
Even superhumans were still human.
They couldn't escape the limits of physical durability.
But an angel's body was different.
From skin to subcutaneous fat, muscles, blood vessels—everything.
This surreal race was abnormal by human standards, handling extreme motions without strain.
Even so, since her original body wasn't ordinary, she was adapting decently to power that far exceeded norms.
She'd always been near-perfect technically. And now she was stealing my techniques, inching closer to mastery.
I still held the edge, but one day I'd lose even on pure skill.
And that was exactly what I wanted.
I wanted my party members to become another me.
Only then could we clear it.
Not right now, but someday—they needed to become like my past selves: assassin or dagger warrior.
"Good, perfect. You're a natural with physical stuff. You pick it up so fast. Time to learn more wing control."
"Is this all studying is? It's the same as before."
It stemmed from her resolve before crossing into the kingdom.
I shook my head.
"I'll teach you that stuff too. But after we start the Main Dungeon, once we've recruited enough for you to function as sub-leader."
"Come to think of it... you said you wanted a fixed party of NPCs."
"Yeah. I know them all too well, whoever they are. Easy to handle."
One reason for my past failures was over-trusting exiles.
Exiles who believed they were human...
They might not want confirmation.
Or they got hooked on the wealth and glory here and didn't want to leave.
I'd assumed my fellow challengers saw the same goal as me.
I was wrong.
In the end, only those who knew they were NPCs stuck it out for the clear.
"I might be an NPC too. And so might you, Uncle."
She glared up from below, asking that. I... still hadn't answered.
Could I put it off a bit longer? That fear.
I banged my head against the wall.
"What's wrong?"
"Hm, nothing. Just tired."
"Then rest more. We agreed on that."
After negotiating with that exile Mayer, I stayed put in the mansion at Hiu's insistence.
Just lounge around together for a while.
No party member objected.
Even the goddess agreed.
I had to reflect: did I really look that worn out?
Conclusion: yes.
"You're full of surprises, Uncle. I thought you could do anything, but you suck at relaxing. Isn't that anxiety or something?"
"Hm, probably, from a psychiatric standpoint."
"You learn that somewhere too?"
"Tracked down an exile psychiatrist. Don't know the depths—just enough to spot dangerous folks."
"You're the most dangerous right now. Gut feeling. You'll believe me, right?"
"Sure. I believe you."
Truth was, Hiu really wanted me to kick back.
But I couldn't.
Kept scheming, so she said study harder instead.
"The Hunter Uncle would've said the same. We talked about it without you."
"Thanks for that."
B eing considerate like this—how long had it been? I hadn't even started building a party that long ago.
I'd thought I could solo everything.
"Teasing you is fun too, right?"
"Always is."
Then the daughter barged in.
"Daddy! I made the formula for converting divinity to mana!"
"Already? You finished your homework fast."
The pitter-patter of little feet was cute. Hiu lunged for a hug but froze.
She'd burn up.
Her halo sank low, nearly touching her head.
"Ugh... uuu..."
"Alright, let's engrave it on these gloves. Divinity-blocking ones."
At that, the drooping halo quivered and rose.
"What do you mean?"
"Making it so you can touch."
Just busywork.
A bit removed from my real goals.
I worried if my party was doing okay, but this wasn't bad.
Wouldn't take long to get a disguised ID for lift access.
Still, doing nothing like this was too rare.
Remi didn't need to fight. She just fired a flashy preemptive shot to scatter them in panic.
The angel was around level 200, and even the youngest matched that.
Weaklings stuck at under 150 were no match.
Making the guild master kneel without using light form was easy for the angel.
"What did I do wrong, Angel?! I paid you handsomely, on time! Even gave bonuses!"
"Hahaha, sorry, Boss. But I'm originally with this side."
She nodded toward the mage who'd turned the organization into a wasteland with repeated Fire Balls.
The boss despaired.
He thought he'd built a solid rapport with the mysterious powerhouse exile Angel.
Her rep had smoothed many deals.
He'd even hooked her up with a house and kitchen!
But sudden betrayal and takeover.
As the stunned boss reeled, Remi stepped forward.
His eyes bulged.
"I see! So that's it! This sneaky mage spy hired you? This is betrayal to Hardrock! You threw away a warrior's pride?!"
"Spare me the pride bullshit. I don't buy insincere crap."
Remi hadn't wasted her lessons from the old man or leader's magic lectures.
Not enough to boost combat power much, but she could manifest basic elements from her fingertips without skills now.
Exile perk—once you've used a skill, grasping the feel is easier.
A thick spark crackled between her widely spread thumb and index finger. Looked painful.
She poured in more mana, ramping up the voltage.
"Now, hand over the business nice and easy and join our umbrella..."
"......"
"Or die."
Remi watched the boss's expressions shift colorfully.
He didn't seem super senior. Death didn't faze him much.
But greed clouded his eyes. Stable kingdoms like this were rare, he'd say.
For an exile unafraid of death, regret might do the trick.
Not many kingdoms had legit Italian restaurants operating.
The exiles she'd known couldn't build societies like that.
This kingdom was paradise, letting you enjoy near-outside civilization.
But put another way, just a regret to leave.
The boss shut his mouth.
Not valuing his life much—defending pride? Or banking on allied guilds to rescue him?
She zapped him anyway.
"Grrraaah!"
"Warrior toughness, huh."
Zapped him more.
"Takes it well."
"What kind of life do you think I've lived, mage?!"
"Don't play tragic."
Remi sighed and called the angel.
A female exile was dragged in, bound.
Remi grinned wickedly—too sinister for her plain looks, making it scarier.
She whispered low.
"Boss... love your wife?"
"Y-you coward!"
"If not the wife, you've got kids. Non-exile kids—we can test if you love 'em."
"N-no! My bad. I mean, I'm sorry."
The youngest watched bitterly.
He knew they wouldn't really kill.
But what to call it? Acting?
That slimy expression and tone—real?
The leader's picks were spot-on.
Still, no pity for the boss. The locals showed what he'd done.