Chapter 53: Partner (1)
Chapter 53: Partner (1)
Translation: Godtl
The swampy fifth floor of the Labyrinth Demon Realm, former stronghold of the Jet Black Group.
In the suffocating darkness.
A group of people stood gathered.
Their faces obscured by hoods pulled low.
"Hmm."
At the center stood a lone boy who hadn't bothered to cover his head, casually surveying the gruesome scene before him.
The outlaw corpses, rapidly decomposed by the sweltering heat and humidity.
Mangrove roots had snaked through the remains, twisting them into grotesque sculptures.
A sight ghastly enough to make even seasoned adventurers wince, yet the delicate-featured boy nudged a skull with his toe as indifferently as if kicking a pebble.
"Priest Jerak seems to have met his end as well."
"Indeed, Archbishop Hamel."
"Who could have done this?"
At Archbishop Hamel of the End Cult's question, a trembling cultist finished his report.
"We searched for traces to identify the perpetrator, but no proper evidence remains. Even reading the residual thoughts yielded no substantial clues."
"So we've learned our opponent is thorough, at least."
Archbishop Hamel sighed.
The End Cult were martyrs who upheld their faith through persecution.
Losing members was nothing new.
But Jerak had been a priest.
Though no warrior, he'd been capable of surviving most ordinary threats.
For such a man to die screaming without even leaving a message...
What this implied was—
"A cleanup this meticulous suggests the Church or royal family might be directly involved."
The Church. The Crown.
Either would be an opponent the cult wished to avoid.
"Then, Your Eminence, what of our 'Great Plan'?"
Priest Jerak had infiltrated the outlaw band to gather intelligence for the 'Great Plan.'
Now his intelligence died with him, and an unknown enemy lurked in the shadows.
"True faith is ever tested by the wicked. Trials are but holy fire tempering our devotion. I shall take up the mission Jerak left unfinished."
"Ohhh, for Your Eminence to personally—"
"Through piety, we shall overcome impious resistance and enlighten the faithless."
Hamel clasped his hands and beamed.
"Until His glory descends."
The calendar turned, and July arrived.
Though one might assume the northern regions saw only endless snow, even the north had its summer.
Nortaris, surrounded by mountains, was infamous for summers hotter than anywhere else in the north.
"Starting to get muggy."
"Ugh, I hate summer. This year feels especially brutal."
Penelope fanned herself with a handkerchief, sighing.
A breeze from the whirring fan on her table provided scant relief.
"This is the north! Shouldn't summers here be cool? It's barely July. I can't believe it'll get worse."
It didn't seem that bad yet...
To Jurgen, northern summers felt pleasantly mild.
The southern regions were another story, and the capital turned into a literal steam bath.
...He swallowed those words and nodded sympathetically instead.
"Your outfit does look rather warm, Miss Penelope."
"Exactly! It's these damned clothes. Stupid etiquette rules. I'm boiling alive."
Grumbling, Penelope downed her cola before slumping back onto the table.
"My cola's already lukewarm..."
"Let me refill your ice."
"Thanks..."
As Jurgen added ice, he stole a glance at her.
Back in winter, she'd flitted about in flimsy dresses without a care.
Apparently her cold resistance came with double vulnerability to heat.
"Must be because I have a sweaty constitution. I go through at least five handkerchiefs a day."
She frequently excused herself during work, claiming she needed to freshen up from all the sweating.
"If it's too much, why don't you lie down and rest?"
"What nonsense! This is my work too—I can't just do that."
But this summer's heat wasn't solely tormenting Penelope.
The beverage business and weather were always closely intertwined, after all.
When the scorching sun baked the ground until it sizzled.
When sweat droplets formed at your chin and dripped with every step you took.
Wasn't it only natural to crave something so chilling it made your head tingle?
In other words, summer was cola's promised peak season.
Y&P was devising multiple strategies to pump this season into a golden age.
Distributing iceboxes so people could enjoy colder cola.
Placing "vending machines" everywhere as both convenience and advertisement.
Of course, both high-efficiency iceboxes and machines that dispensed chilled drinks on demand required cutting-edge technology, but...
"I'll do it!"
"We can make it happen!"
"Yes! Just leave it to us!"
Thanks to Serena—who had avoided marriage by attaining the 5th-Rank and was now brimming with motivation—progress was smooth.
Moreover, Keystone Company's cola factory, secured through a bottling license agreement, would soon be completed.
With Belheim's generous financial backing, Y&P Trading Company was experiencing unprecedented growth.
Though Penelope truly, truly despised summer, she took comfort in these facts.
Where in her life had there ever been a summer more dazzling than this one?
Yet the season's biggest event still lay ahead...
"You going to watch the welcoming ceremony today?"
"You mean the Red Moon?"
The Red Moon, precisely.
An annual phenomenon where a wave of monsters spontaneously emerges in the Demon Realm.
A mass spawning of monsters that grow increasingly violent across the entire region.
It wasn't just the commonly seen Nuisance-, Threat-, and Crisis-grade monsters running amok.
Even Disaster- and Annihilation-grade beasts—normally confined to the Abyss below the 7th layer—would crawl out to wreak havoc.
The scale and timing varied by Demon Realm, but in the Labyrinth Demon Realm, it typically began with the full moon in July.
The duration ranged anywhere from a single day to half a month.
No one knew the cause.
But everyone knew the consequence: if left unchecked, the monsters would flood into cities like sewage backing up through a drain.
"According to Demon Realm scholars, this year's Red Moon will be quite large. Rumor has it many prominent figures are attending too. Just look at our hotel's guest registry."
"Oh? Who exactly?"
To prevent disaster, local adventurers and nobles launched large-scale subjugation efforts, naturally inviting renowned powerhouses from across the continent.
In modern terms, you could call it an All-Star World Raid event.
"Quite the lineup—Kailus the Silent Sword Saint and Ravina the Queen of Monsters are coming. Idris the Compass of the Abyss, and oh—the Saintess is attending too."
Penelope rattled off the names of heroes participating in this Red Moon.
With such dazzling epithets, the roster truly lived up to "All-Star."
Among them were several who had fought alongside Han-bin during the Great Subjugation, which warmed his heart.
Just as Jurgen was about to lose himself in nostalgia—
"Ahh... I suppose Sir Han-bin isn't coming this year either. I heard he used to participate in Demon Realm subjugations back in the day."
The sudden mention made Jurgen flinch.
"...Han-bin is likely on leave."
"Han-bin? Jurgen, it's Sir Han-bin, not just Han-bin."
Penelope often brought up Han-bin's name.
And each time, her reverence made things rather awkward.
At this point, curiosity was gnawing at him.
"You seem... quite fond of Sir Han-bin."
"Of course. I am a proper 5th-Rank Alchemist, after all."
"Not all alchemists hold Han-bin in such—"
"Ahem, Sir Han-bin."
"...I only say this because not everyone reveres Sir Han-bin. Aren't there other great alchemists?"
If we were to simply discuss prestige, Han-bin's Unique Code "Creation" may belong to the realm of the gods, but that doesn't mean there are no alchemists who come close to Han-bin's level.
Depending on the school of thought, there are even alchemists who evaluate Han-bin negatively.
"Hmm..."
After a brief moment of contemplation, Penelope gave an unexpected answer.
"...I won't say."
"Huh?"
"I should have at least one secret of my own. You hide things from me too, don't you?"
Her mischievous gaze made Jurgen flinch slightly.
It didn't feel like her usual playful teasing—there was something distinctly probing and meaningful in her expression, which only flustered him further.
Had she figured it out?
If so, this wasn't something he could just laugh off.
The reason he had hidden his identity and initiated the Gastronomic Revolution in the first place was simply to avoid being dragged back as the Minister of Internal Affairs by Lily.
But facing the past he had tried to forget, he had come to a sobering realization.
Han-bin's past had never been truly settled—it had merely piled up like sediment, waiting.
The moment the connection between the Gastronomic Revolution and Han-bin was discovered, that sediment would come crashing down.
Han-bin himself might not face any major issues.
But what about Penelope? Serena? What would happen to the Gastronomic Revolution?
It would undoubtedly cause complications.
That was why, even when he had no choice but to reveal a fraction of his abilities to Serena, he still hadn't disclosed his true identity. And as for Penelope, who showed no signs of suspicion yet, he had remained silent.
He intended to keep it that way.
This was a world overflowing with all manner of wicked methods to extract information.
In short, ignorance was bliss.
"Miss Penelope, what do you mean? That I'm hiding something?"
"W-what? Why so serious all of a sudden...?"
"Tell me. It's an important matter to me."
The gravity in Jurgen's questioning tone made Penelope falter slightly.
It also irritated her a little.
Her expression soured, and she grumbled under her breath.
"Why didn't you tell me Serena proposed to you?"
"...?"
"That's what's so important to you?"
This had been Penelope's lingering grievance lately.
She had been waiting for Jurgen to bring it up first, but he still hadn't said a word.
Truthfully, since she had already heard the full story from Serena herself, whether Jurgen told her or not didn't matter.
But for some reason, it kept bothering her.
'If I prod him a little, he'll tell me, right?' she had thought—but this was not the reaction she expected.
"It was for Miss Serena's honor. It wasn't a real proposal, after all."
Relief washed over Jurgen—she hadn't discovered his true identity.
"..."
And that expression only made Penelope even more annoyed.
She knew this was childish, but...
The fact that he was hiding something from her was the real sticking point.
"But we're partners, aren't we? Don't you know trust is important between partners?"
"That's true, but Miss Serena is also a partner, isn't she?"
"...!"
At Jurgen's words, Penelope's face twisted like a hamster whose nose had been bopped.
Stunned.
That was the perfect word for it.
For a moment, she froze in place, then slightly furrowed her brows before abruptly standing up.
"Haah... Fine."
"Miss Penelope? Where are you going?"
"...I can't stand how sticky I feel. I'm done for today."
"But we still need to discuss the free beverage provision for the subjugation force—"
Penelope, who had already stepped outside, flung the door back open at Jurgen's call.
"Do it with Serena! Since you're partners and all!"
Then she slammed the door shut again and stormed off.
"Good grief..."
Jurgen let out a bitter laugh.
Above all, he was relieved she hadn't uncovered his identity.
"I'll have to prepare something especially nice for dinner tonight..."
As he pondered what menu might soothe Penelope's ruffled temper, his eyes suddenly caught on a slip of white paper.
A note, its corner sticking out between two drawers.
"Hm?"
Did Miss Penelope leave this behind?
He unfolded it casually—then his face stiffened into stone.
[Han-bin Ainsworth, come to the clock tower belfry by midnight.]
He'd been found out.