Gangs of Romania (1)

I laid down a soundproof barrier in the inn room like always. It was meeting time.

“Let’s keep today’s talk short. We didn’t get much out of it,” Dana said. She had just come back from showering with Franc. Even when moving in pairs abroad, the buddy system applied to bathing too. Actually, it made perfect sense—bathing was one of those moments when people were at their most defenseless. It reminded me a bit of the battle buddy system from the military, which felt kinda shitty, but when I thought about all the historical power figures who’d been assassinated in the toilet, letting my guard down wasn’t an option.

“I showed my face at the Mage Guild and the archaeology branch. They brought up the recent mess in the city first, so I jumped on it and asked around.”

“A lot of it will probably overlap with what I dug up.”

Whiiiiir—!

I answered while drying Dana’s hair with a steam dryer. Franc, who was applying something like lotion to her face, chimed in.

“It’s also important to know how ordinary people see it. What was it again? The Three Great Families? Apparently people are anxious because those groups are fighting in broad daylight.”

“That’s right. They say the ones who came from Kitai lit the fuse for the conflict.” Dana closed her eyes under my hands and shrugged. “When it’s just the other two families, they keep some sense of dignity. Basically, they avoid stepping on each other’s turf. The new guys were treated like a convenient ‘external enemy’ to rally around.”

“That’s right~? Even I got the impression that the people from Lucregens’ Dark Society were just mild-mannered thugs who strut around acting tough~.”

Larilura muttered this while staring enviously at Dana getting her hair dried. I let out a snort at the easily imaginable scene.

“They probably thought they were keeping things within acceptable limits. What else could they do with a religious order right across the street? Even the corrupt priests who take bribes and look the other way have their limits.”

“Yeah. But when the family from Kitai—the Anulus or whatever, those half-bald bastards—started messing with their turf, they must’ve lost their shit.”

“A rolling stone messing with an embedded one. That couldn’t have been easy.”

These were mafia types who had deep roots in the city’s underworld. For a third party to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them would’ve taken serious resources. Financial power and combat strength that the existing forces couldn’t crush. In a turf war between thugs, a latecomer needed exactly that kind of edge to stand out.

“So those half-bald guys are apparently recruiting the bottom-feeders that the other two families wouldn’t even touch.”

Dana’s clear voice slipped into my ear as I combed through her messy purple curls.

“They’re luring in small-time punks and low-rank adventurers with stable salaries and putting them to work.”

“It’s winter, right? The thugs with no jobs come for quick drinking money, get roped in as temporary help, and before they know it they’re ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠full-fledged family grunts.”

“If they don’t want to play the game of cat-and-mouse with the religious order’s enforcers and the death mafia, they have to crawl under an organization’s wing.”

Once you get that red line labeled “former mafia” on your record, you get branded a heretic and become a free stat boost for the guards and inquisitors. The ones who can’t proudly say, “I’m a loyal errand boy for such-and-such family that pays my boss bribes!” get snatched up by the order’s enforcers in a heartbeat.

I stuck my tongue out at the thought.

“Then the order can spread propaganda claiming they’re the ones purging the Dark Society. Thorough bastards.”

“Yeah. They’re so thorough that the old thugs are gritting their teeth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and sending violent messages.”

It seemed the Kitai mafia were trying to suppress the religious groups with money plus a little extra and carve out a place for themselves in Lucregens.

In a city this big, planting your seed is like getting a goose that lays golden eggs.

They probably didn’t give a damn about the normal geese—the existing thugs—who might die in the process of birthing that SSR-grade goose. The feed they scattered to lure the geese into the coop would likely be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠collected back as debt or shackles.

Fucking impressive. Even the K-game companies should take notes on this masterful way of catching suckers.

It’s basically a goddamn pyramid scheme.

Whether on Earth or here, the vicious methods of criminals never failed to leave me impressed.

“So this three-way war ultimately boils down to the greed of families fighting over underworld money,” Franc said quietly. Having lost family to something similar, her words became the slate that closed the chapter of today’s discussion.

—Rustle.

I finished drying Dana’s hair and moved on to brushing Franc’s long locks. They say sorrow isn’t something you get used to—it’s something you adapt to. Taking care of my wife so she wouldn’t be sad was a husband’s job. While I did that, I shared what I had learned today.

“Hmm… That fellow is almost certainly a black mage.”

After I finished telling them about the bastard who had challenged me to a long-range brawl while possessing Temurgul’s body, Veronica spoke.

“Is he not, in fact, a member of the Kitai Dark Society?”

“Why?”

“You ask the obvious. If a practitioner skilled enough to possess a doppelganger and make our lord feel even a moment’s tension belonged to one of the two great families, there would be no reason they could not recruit such rare talents.”

Even at the lowest estimate, someone at the upper tier of Gold or even Platinum wouldn’t be unable to handle third-rate Kitai mafia types. I shook my head.

“It’s too early to jump to conclusions. It’s still only the first day.”

If I rushed to a verdict and misjudged the kill window, it could end badly.

The absolute worst-case scenario is that there are multiple bastards on the same level as me—or higher—lurking around.

Still, it didn’t really matter to us. The total combat power of the underworld wasn’t important. All we needed was to find Tirsi.

…I’ll have to slip through the gaps in this power structure.

Strong ones like that would be too busy checking each other to move freely on personal matters. Just think of the Cold War. They bluster and threaten—try me and you’re dead, you son of a bitch—but behind the scenes they’re sweating bullets thinking, Shit, what if this actually turns into mutual destruction? A tense standoff.

That meant this conflict was a golden opportunity for completing our request. In games, you don’t bother clearing every trash mob when you’re hunting the boss.

Having reached that conclusion, I spoke.

“Everyone worked hard today. Let’s eat and get some proper rest tonight.”

“Mm! Then by all means! I look forward to the delicacies of Romania!”

Veronica looked as delighted as a salaryman cracking open a beer after work. Honestly, she seemed to have had the easiest time of all, but staying alone in the room constantly waiting for an emergency escape probably hadn’t been relaxing. A husband making his wife stand guard like that… I suddenly felt rather pathetic.

Since meals had been pretty rough during the trip, I decided to let our household’s Engel coefficient spike for one night.

**

That night, 3 a.m.

“Goo-goo-rook, goo-goo-bbo-kkureu—! (The meat is delish—!)”

—Flap flap flap!

The birds that lived in Lucregens took off after stuffing themselves with chicken. I wiped the grease from the meat off my hands with a handkerchief and dodged the falling feathers.

“Loyalty, loyalty to Lord Rodur.”

Today was another victory for Lord Papago. I chuckled.

After telling the party and slipping out of the inn at night, I had formed a cooperative relationship with the city’s living drones and ordered them to search for the city’s powerhouses. Or rather, “ordered” might be the wrong word. The birds had already told me about several “buildings that feel scary when you get close.”

I memorized the locations I had written on the map.

I think it’s safe to say I now have a rough grasp of where the masters living in this city reside.

I only learned this after reaching a fairly high level myself, but animals instinctively avoid those who handle mana like an extra limb. It was why the stray cats of Sargadis followed our house cat Teresa. Apparently once you reach around Platinum, an aura of intimidation leaks out even when you’re not fighting. Unless you consciously hide your power and act like a pathetic pushover, you’ll be noticed. The habitats of masters become places animals instinctively avoid.

If there’s a conflict going on, the powerhouses affiliated with the families will be on edge. Finding dangerous individuals should be easy.

When bastards barge into their workshop yelling “This is all mine now!” while slashing their own salaries and screaming battle cries, how could they stay calm 24/7? They’d have to be Cybermen. Every time they got pissed and beat their subordinates with a golf club, the killing intent that leaked out would make the birds think, Ah, it’s here. No matter how well you hide, you’ll be found out.

“I went to Seoul Cyber University~ and that’s how my success story began~.”

I was humming on my way back in the middle of the night when—

“…What the hell?”

I frowned at the strange sense of dissonance that suddenly caught my eye. It happens sometimes. Like when you spin around twenty times with an elephant trunk and the world keeps spinning even after you stop—your perception can’t keep up with the change in senses.

—Shimmer shimmer.

“…Well, damn.”

That was exactly what was happening to me right now. A large warehouse standing imposingly by the roadside looked like it was wriggling strangely, like one of Salvador Dalí’s melting clocks. Had surrealism experienced a renaissance in this other world too? I guess I wouldn’t know since I never paid attention to the art scene here.

“Open, Odin’s Eye.”

Without hesitation, I activated Odin’s Eye. It had been only a momentary dissonance, but my eyeball—used to wielding Odin’s Eye—had definitely detected the mana anomaly.

—Waver.

The warehouse’s dissonance couldn’t withstand the power of the divine eye. I clicked my tongue as I saw through the distorted mana.

Tsk. A barrier.

Was this what they meant by the darkest place being under the lamp? I had deliberately stuck to wide main roads to avoid getting caught up in trouble, which was how I barely noticed this warehouse. If I had been actively searching for underworld forces, I wouldn’t have even considered such an ordinary-looking warehouse as a candidate. And without Odin’s Eye, I definitely wouldn’t have noticed.

The barrier itself has already been dispelled. This is just the leftover mana.

Like a luminol reaction or an ant’s pheromone. Normally you wouldn’t notice it at all. Even if I had looked with Odin’s Eye, it was such a faint residual trace that it would have scattered and disappeared in a few hours. It was proof that someone had set up a barrier here, done something, and then left.

“…Is this what McDonald’s sister-in-law calls ‘fish’?”

I closed my mouth that had uttered the strange words and pondered. Should I dig into this, or should I wait for the right moment and pull back for today? The hesitation lasted only a moment.

Let’s at least check it out.

If this wasn’t a frequently used spot, coming back later might yield nothing. Now was the time to take a risk. I expanded my five senses to confirm no one was watching me, then put on my mask.

Transform. Snake Sage Mode.

—Whiriririck!

Transformed into a non-venomous black mamba, I slipped through the warehouse window with my tiny body.

—Click, click.

Inside were men dressed in ordinary clothes like neighborhood uncles or young guys. There was nothing suspicious about them at all. If I hadn’t known about the barrier, I might have thought they were just members of some civilian club—like a hiking group or an early-morning soccer league.

But something felt off. Not the content of their conversation. It was the money bag they were carrying. They were neatly stacking items that could be converted into cash inside a large duffel-bag-style sack. How could I not be suspicious? If this really was a civilian hobby club, the club name would probably be something like “Smuggling Enthusiasts.”

—Clang!!

Having made that judgment, I switched to Jesus Gay mode, intending to avoid using lethal force for now.

〈Who the hell are you!!〉

They instantly drew their weapons at me as I appeared by toppling a mountain of cargo. The way they pulled guns from the bag screamed “criminal.” I snorted and took the opening stance of the Blood Demon Arts.

〈Jjin-ppang tto-jjan-ssi Sinchon Sinchon jjon.〉

〈What?〉

〈Chwen-gweo jju-i tta-deo!! Mei-nyu ruo-ri-ao jie dai jjong-sshhin!! Syang-ssien ra!!〉

I had just spat out whatever Chinese-sounding words came to mind, but to the people of this world it would sound like incomprehensible nonsense. Since even my translation ability couldn’t make sense of it, there was no need to explain.

The bewildered mafia members twisted their faces viciously.

〈Th-this bastard!! He’s from Kitai!!〉

〈Kitai? Hey, you know how to speak Aztec too?!〉

〈No, I actually barely understood any of it!〉

〈…Then how did you know it was Aztec?〉

〈That’s obvious, isn’t it? Because I trust our boss! The boss said that anyone who speaks in that weird accent can be considered a Kitai bastard trying to take our turf!〉

They muttered among themselves for a moment before splitting up. Some grabbed the goods and ran, while the rest moved to subdue me.

They must be the ones in charge of the smuggling deal. Nothing special.

I had been worried because the barrier was high-level, but even without my equipment it looked like there wouldn’t be any problem.

If these guys didn’t set up the barrier, then their trading partner must have.

In that case, I’d ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beat them down and find out who they were dealing with. I clenched my fist and launched a lightning-fast kick.

〈Ni-chwi-pal-lo-ma——!!〉