Caliban and Drake
Perhaps, aside from Bagan, no one in the Adventurers' Guild had seen through Caliban's true nature. That was likely why he could strut around so openly.
Bagan was the kind of man who dissected and understood every aspect of the game—a person often called a demon. Would someone like him really forget a character's appearance and role?
Bagan spread his palm open, then clenched it into a tight fist. Seeing how hard he gripped it, Sally asked, (Are you trembling?)
No. It's because I've finally found a clue. I'm moved.
The information Bagan possessed was correct. Its value had just been proven. What could possibly bring greater joy than that?
Perhaps because he'd put too much strength into it, he let his stiffened body relax and spoke with an expression that showed neither irritation nor delight.
"Shall we go have a look?"
His face maintained a perfect poker face, but his voice carried a faint excitement he couldn't quite conceal.
Bagan moved first. Clorsus, watching from behind, muttered, "That guy is from the underworld? I never saw that coming."
It was hard to believe that Dractus—the second-ranked party that had faithfully carried out guild requests—and its leader, Caliban, were actually villains.
"Hey, one-eye."
Bagan called out mockingly, referencing the scar visible over Caliban's left eye. Starting a fight right away might seem insane, but since the opponent was a truly detestable villain, there was no reason to hold back the flair.
Caliban, assuming the call was for him, turned toward Bagan. Because of the injury to his right eye, he had to twist his head fully to look at him. Then, with eyes that seemed completely devoid of emotion, he said, "What is it?"
He must have been furious, but given the location, he was acting.
"Where do you get off pretending to be a decent human being when you're rotten to the core?"
Bagan despised people who were inconsistent on the inside and out. And since he already knew the man's true identity, further denial was pointless.
"I'm not sure what you mean..."
He continued acting while suppressing his rising anger. Even if his identity had been exposed, he believed his accumulated trust within the guild gave him the upper hand.
"We're inside the guild. If this is personal, let's handle it somewhere else, shall we?"
Just listen to how he speaks. Who would ever suspect this man was the underworld's second-in-command? The scars on his face and his rugged muscles might make one believe he was a villain, but since his true nature didn't match, no one would buy it.
"Enough. Where's Drake?"
At the name Drake, Caliban's eyebrows twitched slightly. It was only for a split second, so no one else noticed.
(He's shaken.)
Of course he is. No matter how good his acting is, hearing a name that should never come up will do that.
That was when someone interrupted, seemingly impressed by the performance.
"B-Bagan, sir. Why are you suddenly acting like this?"
It was Rina. She was probably the person least likely to believe that Dractus and Caliban were tied to the underworld. After all, if they had worked hard to build a positive image, they would have grown closest to her and earned her deepest trust.
Caliban didn't miss the perfect opportunity and tried to smooth things over.
"Unfortunately, it seems you've got the wrong person."
He had nearly lost control from that momentary agitation, but Rina's intervention helped him regain it. Looking distinctly uncomfortable, he made a show of leaving the area.
But Bagan had no intention of letting him walk away. If the situation ended here, he would be the only one who looked like a lunatic.
Since he had planned to expose the man anyway, he threw out his true identity.
"Where do you think you're going, second-in-command of the underworld, Caliban?"
Crack!
The veins already bulging on his neck stood out even more prominently. He was clearly one step away from exploding.
Trembling with rage, the man ground out, "What... what are you talking about?"
But the situation had completely flipped. Every adventurer inside the guild now had their eyes locked on Caliban.
"Seriously. Your acting is fucking impeccable."
Bagan kept sneering while Caliban's face turned beet red, leaving him unable to respond. Another person was watching and listening to all of this—Gion.
Descending from the second floor, he assessed the situation.
"Bagan, if what you said isn't true, you realize you've made a tremendous mistake, right? He's the leader of a party that handles a significant portion of De Meca's guild requests."
His voice was far more serious than usual. This matter involved the underworld and quite possibly the survival of the Adventurers' Guild itself.
"Ah, Gion. Of course I do."
Bagan answered casually. Gion stared at him intently, as if his gaze alone could pierce through to the truth.
"The man who leads the Adventurers' Guild wouldn't fall for such cheap tricks, would he? I have no connection to the underworld."
The man assumed Gion was on his side and tried to use him once again. The redness had almost completely faded from his face.
Then Gion withdrew his gaze from Bagan and spoke.
"This is why my position is always so difficult. I must remain neutral among the kingdom's power brokers, and even among merchants, or I'll get beaten from all sides. Situations like this are incredibly awkward. However..."
Those words reflected what Gion had felt after being pulled in every direction for so long. He couldn't always stay neutral, and he couldn't always trust others. Even leading a small party carried great weight. Leading an organization was heavier still. And if one were the head of a nation, the burden grew even greater. It was the fate of those who stood at the very top.
But soon Gion turned his gaze back to Bagan, smiled, and continued, "Do I have no choice but to remain neutral because I can't trust anyone? No. Sometimes you have to trust someone through rational judgment. Even if that trust turns out to be false."
Bagan nodded at Gion's words. He knew it wasn't an easy decision to make.
"This is outrageous! Are you saying I'm nothing but underworld scum?"
"You seem to understand perfectly."
Now that he had chosen to trust Bagan, to Gion, Caliban was no longer the leader of Dractus but the underworld's second-in-command. Gion raised his energy as if ready to kill him on the spot. A red aura soon materialized and wrapped around his body.
At that moment, someone who couldn't read the room interrupted. Perhaps there were simply too many ears listening.
"Wait... Does that mean this bastard killed Flang?"
It was Pol from Dawn's Wolf, who had remained inside the guild. Once it became nearly certain that Caliban was the underworld's second-in-command, Pol could no longer maintain his composure.
(He looks like he's about to charge in at any second.)
Bagan agreed with Sally. The usually calm Pol had vanished. All that remained was a beast driven purely by instinct to avenge his friend.
"Now that it's come to this, there's no helping it. I don't know how you found out, but everyone here will have to die. Especially you."
The truth was already out. No longer hiding, the man pointed directly at Bagan in open declaration of war.
But the one who flew into a rage at the sight wasn't Bagan or Gion—it was Pol.
"You son of a bitch!"
The moment the man was confirmed as underworld, Pol—having lost all reason—drew the sword from his waist and charged at Caliban.
Clang!
Caliban couldn't remain passive. His blade was thinner than Pol's but longer, allowing him to block the attack before Pol could even strike.
Hoo?
Once the fight had begun, there was no turning back. The guild's dining hall had become an arena for the two men.
Bagan didn't bother scolding Pol for acting on his own. If anything, he found it more annoying than anything else. So he simply observed and analyzed.
He took in their elegant swordplay. Interestingly, both were one-handed swordsmen. Pol was right-handed while Caliban was left-handed. Pol's style of wielding a longsword with one hand was famously brutish among adventurers. Yet despite possessing the unique style of a one-eyed left-handed swordsman, Caliban of Dractus wasn't particularly well-known. That alone proved how well he had concealed himself.
"You're no match for me."
Even as they traded blows on seemingly even ground, Caliban moved with clean steps and perfect composure, while Pol—who had to swing a longsword with one hand—was burning through his stamina at an alarming rate. From the beginning, Pol had always been the type of warrior who relied on his comrades' support. While he possessed decent personal skill, his true strength emerged through teamwork.
"Bagan, sir, won't you help Pol?"
At some point Natalie had come to stand beside him. To the others, the exchange between Pol and Caliban looked fierce—a battle too close to call.
But to Natalie, Bagan, and Gion—whose eyes were far sharper—it was clear that Pol was being pushed back. The adventurers hoped Pol would win now that Caliban had been exposed as underworld, but in truth it was impossible.
Though Natalie begged him to save Pol, Bagan quietly shook his head.
"He started this fight. For Flang's sake, accepting help from others would make his revenge meaningless."
In this moment, he respected Pol's noble resolve. Pol himself probably wished for it—to succeed in his revenge through his own power.
For the first time, Bagan respected a human being.
"Water Bullet!"
At that moment, he spotted Reina casting magic from a distance. The spell flew in a straight line, making it impossible to tell who it might hit.
Bagan sighed and seized control of the Water Bullet.
"A mage who doesn't even understand the basics."
The Water Bullet whose control had been stolen stopped dead in midair, as if blocked by an impenetrable wall. Reina tried to cast it again, but now the spell wouldn't even form.
"What? Why won't it come out? Water Bullet!"
Seeing her obvious panic, Bagan shook his head.
(Is there really a need to go this far? That Pol fellow looks ready to die.)
That's exactly why I shouldn't interfere. I can't make his resolve meaningless. But...
(But?)
With that much resolve, I should at least keep him alive.
While he respected Pol's determination, he had no intention of letting him die. Still, Bagan was curious—whether that resolve would be enough to achieve revenge.
"Natalie, there's no need to worry."
He gently stroked the head of Natalie, who looked on the verge of tears watching Pol's precarious state. She seemed to feel a little better and began cheering for her friend.
"Urgh!"
"Did the leader of the second-ranked party look that weak to you? It seems I was underestimated."
"I can't forgive you!"
The others were shocked to see the gentlemanly Caliban suddenly reveal his true colors.
"H-how could Caliban..."
As expected, the most shocked of all was Rina, the guild's beloved mascot.
"Rina, go to my room and stay there."
If not for Gion, who treated her like his own daughter, she might have been caught up in the fight while still in shock.
"Hoo... Yes."
Rina, who had been hyperventilating, steadied herself at Gion's words. She headed up to the second floor as if this were just another ordinary day.
Now only Bagan, Gion, and the various adventurers remained inside the guild. The fight showed Caliban holding an overwhelming advantage. Pol was already covered in cuts and wounds.
No one hoped for Pol to win anymore. They knew it was impossible and had resigned themselves to it.
"Bagan, are you really not going to help?"
Gion, who had safely evacuated the guild staff, returned and asked.
"What are you waiting for? Shouldn't you just capture him?"
Since Bagan wasn't moving, Gion couldn't act recklessly either. Even though he wanted to kill Caliban immediately, he held back.
"The number one has to step forward."
At Bagan's words, Gion asked, "The number one?"
The person Bagan had been waiting for soon revealed himself.
"Sigh, fuck. I was trying to let this pass quietly, but damn..."
A massive figure rose from a table in the corner of the guild. The similar tattoos on his body made it clear he and Caliban were connected.
Boom!
"Ugh!"
Gion, standing beside Bagan, was struck by something and sent flying into the guild wall.
"...So you're Bagan?"
In the blink of an eye, he had covered over twenty meters and sent Gion flying at a speed too fast to see. The reason was simple. He was simply that strong. He wasn't the master of the underworld for nothing.
"Drake..."
"You shouldn't call another man's name like a dog you've raised."
Drake's shoulder muscles twitched visibly. True to his brawler nature, he was about to throw a punch. Having stood up, he clearly intended to deal with Bagan as well.
Whoosh!
The punch was fast enough to create a sonic boom, infused with mana that would cause serious damage if it connected.
But.
Grab!
"It's been a while since I've taken the first hit. Good attack, but it lacks power."
Bagan caught the fist aimed at him with his own hand. Just like during practice. Blood faintly stained the corner of his mouth, showing it hadn't been a light blow, yet Gion was smiling as if he were enjoying himself.
"How about it? Care to play a little?"
"I was going to discipline a lost kitten, but it seems the guardian was here."
The two men were nearly identical in build. A bloody clash of auras unfolded between Drake, master of the underworld, and Gion, master of the Adventurers' Guild.
A red aura erupted from Gion while a purple aura flowed from Drake. The fact that aura flowed from them simply by refining their energy showed the level of their skill.
Hoo?
Watching Pol and Caliban's battle continue while Gion and Drake's fight had just begun, Bagan shouted internally.
So why are you two fighting!
(It's turning a simple matter into something complicated.)
Bagan, who had planned to quickly handle Drake when he appeared and save Pol, now found himself in quite the predicament.