Laws of the Foreign Quarter
Foreign Quarter. A place in South Korea where the laws of South Korea couldn't properly take hold. Yet it was also the area with the lowest statistics for violent crimes anywhere in the country. The reason?...
"You've got some guts. Pulling a robbery in Calione territory, of all places."
"Gah... ugh...!"
...Calione's justice didn't make it into the statistics.
"S-sorry! P-please, just one chance...!"
In a dark alley off the entertainment strip in C District of the Foreign Quarter, a man was currently pinned under a maid, desperately begging for his life. Bald with facial tattoos marking him as a local gang thug—name unknown—he'd tried shaking down a passing drunk for cash and got caught by us.
"Young master. What should we do with him?"
Alesia asked how to dispose of him. In a situation like this, it was the superior—me—who decided his fate. That was Calione rule, and the law of the Foreign Quarter.
"Break the hand that held the knife."
"Understood."
Without a moment's hesitation, she twisted his arm in an instant.
"Gaaaaahhh!!"
A sickening crunch echoed as a new joint formed in his arm, his screams filling the alley. Passersby glanced over curiously, but upon spotting me in my black suit and Alesia in her maid outfit, they shrugged it off and went on their way.
"Hngh! Khkhkh...!"
"You don't look familiar. New in town?"
I motioned for Alesia to step aside from the pinned thug, then squatted down in front of him.
"I trust you know why you're in this mess."
"I do...! I do...!"
He trembled as he answered. I patted his bald head with my palm.
"No next time. Go tell your friends, your crew, your boss—whatever. If there's even one more stunt like this in Calione territory, I'll turn you all into beehives. Got it?"
"...Y-yes! I'll tell them! I swear!"
That should do it.
"Get lost."
"Thank you! Thank you!"
At my command, he scrambled up on his one good arm, bowed frantically, and bolted like a rabbit. As I watched his retreating figure, Alesia's voice came from behind.
"You're letting him live?"
"Not in the mood to see blood tonight."
I also planned to use him as a warning. Killing him meant the incident stayed quiet, but letting him go would spread the word and keep the riffraff in check. At my signal, a few waiting organization members tailed him.
"Word's probably out that we're patrolling this side, so let's check the opposite direction before heading back."
"As you wish."
Still, tonight was tame compared to usual. Last time with Parnello, a street vendor got caught in gang crossfire, so Parnello wiped out everyone there and compensated the merchant with the thugs' own cash for repairs and emotional distress.
After handling that guy, the rest of the Night Walk passed without incident. Just drunks stumbling by and club workers pausing to bow in greeting.
That said, the vibe feels heavier than usual.
Fewer people out than normal. Even the spot where that thug popped up should've had enough foot traffic to deter crime. With all the new faces filtering in, something felt off in the air.
"Young master."
Lost in thought as we slowly patrolled, Alesia suddenly halted ahead. Another incident? But the surroundings were eerily quiet. Puzzled, I followed her serious gaze as she pointed.
"...That."
That? I looked where she indicated—a small shop with the sign:
[Egg Bread]
"Buy me some."
She... boldly demanded egg bread from me.
"...Buy you some?"
"Yes. I forgot my wallet."
"You can pay with your phone these days."
"Forgot it."
"I saw it on you."
"It disappeared."
...She just wants a freebie, doesn't she? Whatever—it wasn't pricey, and she'd driven me here. With a sigh, I bought her a bag. She beamed, hugging it close, and bit into one with a satisfying crunch.
"Delicious. Warm and fresh. Oh, want one, young master?"
She offered me one. I'd bought it, but was she planning to hog them all?!
"...Sure. Thanks."
Whatever, she'd given it over. I took a bite—standard egg bread taste. But Alesia, walking beside me, devoured hers like it was gourmet.
"You always liked egg bread?"
She tilted her head at my question, swallowing.
"Egg bread? Hmm... yeah, I suppose. It holds good memories."
"Good memories?"
"Secret. They're precious."
She smiled mischievously.
"Anyway, we've had our fun detour, and patrol's nearly done... Shall we head back?"
"Yeah, time to go."
I turned around.
"Young master? The bike's that way...?"
Alesia panicked as I headed the opposite direction, arm outstretched to the curb. I glanced back with a playful grin.
"Taxi."
Honestly, your bike scares me a little.
The next day.
"From what research we've done so far, we can say dungeons arise due to this thing called 'mana.' Aura and mana were only properly observed after dungeons started appearing, so concepts around them developed gradually afterward."
Class 1-A faced the infamous sleep-aid of first period: Dungeon Studies. The instructor's droning voice and dull content were already sapping the kids' energy.
But what could they do? Dungeon Studies was essential for heroes entering gates.
"We don't fully understand dungeon generation. Scientists speculate it's a precursor to our world merging with external realms. In other words, our world is slowly fusing with others. The rising mana and aura levels are proof."
And the man holding forth on this—authority figure in Dungeon Studies—was our instructor, Park Hak-su.
"Now, let's look at some key papers on the topic... Hm?"
Mid-lecture, Park Hak-su noticed the dead silence and paused.
"Aigoo... everyone's eyes are glazing over. Yeah, Dungeon Studies is pretty boring, huh?"
He muttered glumly, and the kids shook their heads.
"No? It's fun?"
No enthusiastic "Yes!" followed, so he nodded knowingly.
"Right, not like we're at some stuffy seminar. Enough lecture talk... How about a wake-up story? You all catch the news on those Niflheim escapees?"
The kids perked up at the hot topic, lifting heads and sparkling eyes.
"Hah, look at you. One non-boring subject and you're alive again? Yeah, TV and the net are blowing up with it."
As Instructor Park said, the hottest issue scorching South Korea was the Niflheim breakout villains. Prosecutors and police investigations revealed they'd snuck into the country, drawing massive attention from society and the academy alike.
Of course, said "investigation" was just repackaging intel from Dike Law Firm as their own.
"Anyway, among the escapees is this guy called Miner. His ability? Digging. He can crumble any hard ore like sponge cake."
Back when Korea overflowed with dungeons, it wasn't ideal for clearing, but utilized right, it'd have been a huge asset. Miner didn't.
"He exploited the chaos to raid the toughest spots. Like... bank vaults."
That era was Korea's dark age. Small landmass meant less damage than elsewhere, but nationwide dungeons overwhelmed the few heroes, and lax laws couldn't contain them.
"One spot he hit was a Korean mana stone depot—the highest-grade one, basically a national treasure vault. Know what happened there...?"
The kids leaned in as the tale heated up. Park Hak-su built tension, then clapped sharply.
"Boom!!"
The class jumped. Grinning at their reactions, he laughed.
"Hahaha! That's how everyone reacted. Those pricey mana stones got caught in an explosion. But the shock didn't last—mana stones aren't affected by normal blasts like other minerals. Only aura or mana attacks scratch them."
So Miner figured, No big deal.
"Problem was, dungeon signs suddenly flared at the blast site. That's how we caught him—trapped in the dungeon he accidentally triggered."
He chuckled merrily. The kids snickered at the villain's rotten luck.
"That's why Miner's a name in Dungeon Studies. The timing was perfect—everyone fixated on it. Pure mana clumps, hit with strong external stimulus, crack reality and spawn a dungeon? Something like that."
In short: Could we make dungeons artificially?
A front-row student raised a hand.
"What happened to that hypothesis? Did it work?"
"Haha, work? You ever hear of manmade dungeons?"
Park Hak-su smirked.
"Total failure, obviously. Tons tried, but it was just a hypothesis. Even with high-purity stones. Still, it led to tons of mana stone research, fueling today's artifacts. See? Dungeon Studies ain't so bad."
This time, a chorus of "Yes" rose. Park Hak-su beamed.
"Good, you're awake. Let's dive back in. On how shattered mana stones affect the atmosphere—check the paper I was about to mention..."
Like the story was all buildup, he seamlessly tied it to the lesson. The other kids sighed.
-Creeeak. Thunk. Creeeak. Thunk.
Only the repetitive conveyor belt hummed in the warehouse. Countless vacuum pistons pistoned away, spewing white steam that hazed the air.
"Haa... Troubling. Most troubling."
A dark silhouette stirred amid the steam. Dragging tattered, grimy bandages across the floor, the man halted and gazed skyward.
"One dead, three missing. You call that acceptable?"
He whirled. His face emerged—identity unknown, body wrapped in ragged bandages.
His words shook the earth; steam churned wildly.
"Advance the timeline. No more interference. Let everyone know our message."
Those around him stared in terror, clenching fists to steady themselves, nodding meekly. Before his rage, nodding was their only freedom.
In that icy tension—
"Ring around the rosie—"
A pocket full of posies.
Ashes! Ashes!
We all fall down!
Despite the cheery tune, the air grew colder. Gravely, he declared:
"—Proclaim the plague has begun."