Chapter 160

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 160

Chapter Title: Angel Dust

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I sensed something off right after lying down in the old room I'd used before, when Priest Jeffrey told me to crash there for the night after we'd caught up.

"...What the hell?"

Priest Jeffrey was prepping tomorrow's herbal mixes, and that's when [Hostile Detection] started faintly reacting. The response was subtle, but it clearly carried malice.

I slowly got up and stepped out into the hall. There he was, lit by the dim glow of a candle, tending to the patients lying in their beds.

'...That direction...'

I got why the [Hostile Detection] was so faint. This malice wasn't aimed at me—it was directed at Priest Jeffrey.

Not the patients. A bit farther... but not too far. Probably right outside the building.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

'Which bastards...'

"Hm? Ian? Heading out?"

"Can't sleep. Thought I'd take a quick walk."

Priest Jeffrey seemed oblivious, focused on checking the patients. I fed him some line about getting fresh air and slipped out of the clinic. Once outside, I fixed my gaze in the direction of the hostility, eyes cold and sunken.

'This'll be an easy win~'

Robert, who'd been ordered by "Big Sis" to take out the priest at a clinic in the residential district, whistled as he peered through the lit window at the old man inside.

He'd heard the guy had succeeded—where the Temple and Alchemist Guild had failed—in treating Angel Dust, even if just a little. Figured it had to be some high priest or private alchemist... not this pathetic geezer.

'Treating it with herbs? Divine power must be a joke too. Just an old quack playing with plants.'

Impressive that he'd whipped up a neutralizer from cheap herbs... but that ended here.

"Nike, Hops. Ready?"

Time to launch the op. He spoke into his communication crystal toward his hidden comrades.

"...? Nike? Hops?"

No matter how much mana he poured in, the crystal just flickered faintly—no response.

"...Faulty?"

Vibrations and light meant they were talking. But no sound. Must be one of those occasional comm glitches.

But contrary to his thoughts, voices flowed clearly from his crystal. Robert, convinced it was busted, kept powering it off and on, repeating himself.

"Tch... My crystal's glitching—no hearing you. If you can hear me, proceed as planned. In one minute, breach from different angles. Nike throws sleep gas, Hops blocks escape. I go in and slit the old man's thr—"

Mid-sentence, chills crawled up Robert's spine. He froze.

"........."

'Why can't you hear...'

My voice either?

"Hm... So that's the plan?"

Using [Sensory Transfer] to hijack Robert's hearing, I'd eavesdropped on their entire scheme. Slowly, I rose. Watching that Robert guy bark orders, he had to be the leader of the three [Hostile Detection] was picking up.

"Alright then..."

Been a while since I used poison.

"Guhk...!"

"Shh."

His scream died in his throat. Unable to even hear himself, he collapsed rigid from paralysis poison. I transferred vision from the familiar I'd sent toward the others' hideout.

"Robert's down?"

"Rather than both our comms crapping out at once, yeah. We pull back."

'Quick on the uptake.'

The moment Robert's line cut, they sized it up fast and grouped up. Props for that... but...

'Should've scattered and run.'

"Argh! Who the hell?!"

"What, Hops?! Cut it out!"

Familiars relay mana for spells. I spread mana through it to trigger hallucination magic. One guy's eyes shook, then he freaked, swinging at phantoms only he saw.

"...Damn it!"

Nike hesitated a split second, then bolted without looking back, abandoning Hops. Too late. Hallucination via familiar was just a stall—I'd already hustled over.

"Peekaboo."

"Gaaaaah!"

"Hm... not quite."

Thought slicing real flesh might help nail the feel for 22F sword beams, but no dice. Practice makes perfect.

I flicked blood from my blade and approached the guy clutching his severed leg, howling.

"Oof... hurts bad, huh? I lost an arm recently—yeah, it stings."

"Grrrr... Who the hell are you?! You know who we—"

Pathetic trying to threaten after panicking and running.

"Druggy scum, that's who."

"Cough! Hack... How?!"

"If you're gonna freak when I guess right, why ask?"

Obvious who'd target Priest Jeffrey now. He's not the type to make enemies, so the only wrinkle was treating those weird new patients—who looked drugged out anyway.

His reaction confirmed it. Real junkies.

"Look, I've got questions. Let's make this easy."

"Fuck you... You cut my leg and now—"

"Hey, relax. Legs regrow fine."

"What bullshit—"

"Mine did. Watered it, sunned it, good as new."

Why don't bad guys just answer nicely when asked (with leg-chopping)?

"Perfect—three of you."

This much pain across three shouldn't kill from shock, right?

"Grrraaaagyaazzzzaaaahh!"

"...Yeah. Broke him."

Herded the three captured assassins into an alley, stabbed them evenly, then funneled all pain via [Sensory Transfer] to one while questioning. Got my answer cut short when he snapped.

Tough to dial back pain overload. Not testing on myself anytime soon.

Luckily, seeing their buddy scream bloody murder—while they felt nothing—freaked the other two. They turned compliant, answering faithfully.

"So you're Angel Dust dealers. Needed to spread more, but this neutralizer guy popped up, so you moved to kill him?"

"Yes, sir."

Scored some intel. Their drug: Angel Dust. Recent Labyrinth City patients: Angel Dust users.

And...

"No clue why divine power/potions don't work?"

"Nope. Big Sis handles production..."

"Big Sis?"

Their boss: a woman called "Big Sis."

"You don't even know your boss?"

"Honest! Just call her that 'cause she's a chick... No name, race unknown. We were scraping by in the east district when a sweet gig came up..."

"Tch."

Small fry confirmed.

No solid leads. I forced mana contracts banning loose lips on my abilities and dumped them on the guards.

'Guards'll handle the rest.'

Drug cartel? Not my problem. Just needed why they targeted Priest Jeffrey. Knew the reason now—easy fix.

"...So yeah, Priest. Hide out at the Temple for a bit. You split to open the clinic, but you're still Temple-affiliated—they won't turn you away."

The Temple would welcome the herbal formula for that noisy drug neutralizer with open arms.

"But... leaving patients..."

"Priest, please."

He resisted, but I strong-armed him to the Temple. Not a full cure, but they'd brew antidotes with that mix.

"Uh... Big Sis. The guys at that clinic? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Guards nabbed 'em."

"All three?"

"Y-Yes..."

In an east district basement room with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠barred windows, the woman staring out turned at the man's report.

"...I gave 'em an easy job. No guards, no crowds, no tough mark. Just off one old priest."

"Th-The old priest wasn't the one. Some other guy took our crew down and handed 'em over."

"Oh?"

"Big Sis" hummed softly, crossing her legs. Smooth thighs peeked from her loose robe; the reporting man swallowed hard.

'No! Snap out of it!'

He whipped his head away, clinging to reason. He'd seen what happened to guys who lusted after her when she arrived.

"So. Who was the guy?"

"W-We got people digging now..."

"Three days. Find out who and what."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Dismissing him, she gazed out the window at a boy.

Shackled in iron chains, the black-haired boy felt the silent pressure from outside. He jerked his head away, muttering as he gripped the nauseating monster corpses and mystery weeds.

"Craft."

At his murmur, materials vanished in a blaze of light—skipping steps. Left in his hand: a handful of pristine white powder.

Alchemists would foam at the mouth and charge. Skipping steps for perfect results, with exotic effects unseen anywhere.

But the boy who wrought this miracle looked grim.

'......I wanna go home.'

This wasn't the isekai I'd dreamed of.