Chapter 217
Chapter 217
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 217
>Chapter Title: The Devil of the Ivory Tower
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No questions asked.
It meant there was no need for talk, and the current situation fit that description perfectly.
“Huh? What the hell are these guys? And why can’t I see their faces… Gahk!”
Aster smashed the hilt of his sword into the head of the swaggering thug who approached, then crouched down in front of the fallen man, grabbed him by the hair, and yanked his head back.
“Hey, lemme just ask one thing… Whoops, did I hit him too hard?”
“Ugh… ugh…”
The impact must have been severe; the thug was rolling his eyes back, only groaning faintly.
Aster patted the thug’s cheek lightly to check if he was conscious, then clicked his tongue in disappointment as he turned to Evelyn.
“Master, this guide’s pretty useless. Let’s keep going for now.”
“No, what the…”
“Tsk, you’ve gotta stay composed, Master. Right?”
“…Ah.”
What in the world was going on?
Evelyn felt dizzy in the utterly incomprehensible situation, but she soon steadied her breathing as per Aster’s words.
As long as they were pretending to be in a master-servant relationship, she needed to maintain a poker face, just as he said.
But at Aster’s subsequent antics, Evelyn couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of her eye.
‘This is… an academy student?’
In the back alleys of the Black-White Slums, Aster was a one-man outlaw.
First up, smack.
“Hey, you there! Come over here a sec… Kahk!”
As soon as their eyes met and he was about to say a few words, whoosh—the sword hilt slicing through the air.
The question came after.
…Of course, by then, the target was in no state to answer. But still.
“Tsk, another dud.”
Like that, Aster prowled through the back alleys of the Black-White Slums, knocking down approaching thugs one by one.
Later on, he didn’t even wait for them to throw their lines.
When a thug approached, lured by the sound of coins…
Thwack, whoosh!
“…Guh!”
He leaped forward in a single bound and swung the hilt.
It was like watching a tiger in action.
At some point, it became impossible to tell if he was smacking them to ask questions or smacking them just to smack them. Watching the scene, a piece of advice suddenly flashed through Evelyn’s mind.
- Evelyn, this guy bites for real.
‘…It wasn’t a lie.’
Evelyn had been half-doubting Chenbi’s tale of getting beaten black and blue by Aster at the Blandoga Family estate, but seeing this spectacle made it clear Chenbi’s story held not a shred of exaggeration.
No, if anything, Chenbi might have downplayed it out of friendship!
Anyway, Aster kept rampaging through the alleys, and it wasn’t until he’d piled up about a dozen casualties that a survivor emerged.
“Buddy, lemme ask you one thing.”
“W-What…”
“You know the nearest cartel hideout around here?”
For reference, the cartels were thug syndicates that controlled sections of the Black-White Slums.
Sure, given their scale and members, calling them mere “thugs” might be a stretch, but whatever.
At Aster’s question, the survivor stammered out a response.
“I-I know it, yeah.”
“Perfect. Then lead the way.”
There was some resistance, of course.
The guy was sharp enough to switch to polite speech after one hit, but the cartels were that terrifying.
Naturally, it had little effect.
“N-No, you can’t. Those guys are…”
“Master, should I ask him?”
“…I know who they are, but I-I’ll guide you.”
The survivor staggered to his feet and took the lead.
And so, Aster and Evelyn followed the thug.
How long had they walked?
The thug’s pace noticeably slowed, then stopped completely as he pointed somewhere.
“Just around that corner. You’ll spot it right away… Can I go now?”
“Sure, scram. Go to another district and live right.”
“Th-Thank you!”
The survivor bolted away in a panic.
Evelyn watched his retreating figure for a moment, glanced at Aster, and thought:
‘A man who thrives without laws.’
A devil lived in Jenion Academy, the ivory tower of knowledge.
* * *
Black Pig, the cartel ruling Alley A-12 in the Second Black-White Slums.
Boss Puglak, who lived like an emperor in his territory despite being a small-time outfit, knelt demurely on the ground.
His underlings lay scattered around him, battered and broken, and Puglak’s own face wasn’t unscathed.
One eye swollen black. A lump bulging on his forehead.
Dried blood crusted around his nose and mouth.
Sniff, snort.
Puglak was still sniffling from the nosebleed that wouldn’t stop when a voice reached his ear.
“So, just follow this alley, and you’ll hit the black market?”
It was an eerie voice impossible to pin as male or female, young or old, and Puglak nodded vigorously.
“Y-Yes, that’s right. Hard to make out? I could guide you…”
“Save it…”
Aster smirked at Puglak’s insincere babble and glanced aside.
“Master, that’s what he says. Shall we head out?”
“Mm, yes.”
Before leaving the Black Pig hideout, Aster waved lazily at Puglak.
“Nice meeting you. Let’s hang again sometime.”
The guy shuddered—whether from joy or fear.
Back to the streets of the Black-White Slums.
Aster and Evelyn took a secluded alley off the main road.
Taking down the cartel hadn’t been hard, to begin with.
Truth be told, Black Pig was such a pipsqueak outfit it was embarrassing to call it a cartel. A real one wouldn’t have gone down this easy.
‘Not bad luck.’
Aster waved the map he’d gotten from Puglak with a grin.
Frankly, he’d felt a twinge of unease deep down.
Past experience showed these small fries could snowball into major headaches.
‘Wyvern’s fault?’
[Buddy, me?]
‘You’re part of it, but hush for now.’
Anyway, Aster was delighted at the unexpectedly easy win when Evelyn halted.
She scanned the surroundings, cast a sound barrier, and spoke.
“Is this… really okay?”
“Okay how?”
“We’re not just coming once…”
In other words, was picking fights with cartels really smart?
It didn’t compute with Evelyn’s common sense.
But Aster just chuckled at her concern.
“That’s how the Black-White Slums work.”
“…Pardon?”
“Noble houses and aristocrats might play politics and all that, but no need here.”
It was true.
In the Black-White Slums, the strong made the law.
Sure, it was still a place with people, so tangled interests meant caution sometimes…
‘Not for me.’
That was because overwhelming power simplified all “interests.”
Yet, was that why she couldn’t relax?
“Hmm…”
Evelyn crossed her arms, deep in thought.
Aster watched her quietly, then yawned hugely.
On one hand, he wondered:
‘Is this really that big a deal?’
It wasn’t. This was standard in the Black-White Slums.
Overthinking was pointless; if you had power, you smashed first and solved problems.
Sure, he got worrying about the future, but…
‘…Not enough to agonize this long.’
Still, Aster held his tongue.
She needed time to adjust.
‘Won’t take long, probably.’
Evelyn just wasn’t used to Slums ways.
Her mindset was sharp anywhere—hell, even cartel bosses would yield to its twisted edge.
Think about it.
Who sane sets up a black market for buying grades at an academy?
As Aster waited patiently.
“Aster.”
“Feeling better?”
“…Pardon? Better how?”
What? So it wasn’t worry.
“Nothing, forget it. What’s up?”
Aster brushed off Evelyn’s nonchalant demeanor and changed the subject. As long as she was fine, good.
Evelyn tilted her head briefly before speaking.
“I originally scheduled the relic sale pretty far out, right?”
“Yeah? Even rushing, it’d be around finals, you said.”
The reason was simple.
Even Evelyn had never sold relics on the black market before.
With scarce time, manpower, and a whole new environment, prep was massive.
“And you agreed readily?”
“Yeah… Properly selling them matters most, right?”
“But what if…”
Evelyn trailed off, her head dipping slightly as she lifted her hand to her nose like sniffing it.
A habit when she was mulling deeply.
What now? More worries?
“What if?”
“Ah, what if there’s a way?”
Aster tilted his head.
“What way?”
“I mean… a way to shorten that time. No, not just shorten it, but properly sell the relics. If that exists, what would you do?”
“What else? Use it.”
Who’d turn down quick, proper sales?
“But if you had to put in some effort?”
“Muscle work? No biggie.”
“…That so?”
“…?”
Aster shivered at Evelyn’s oddly chilling tone and cocked his head.
Her eyes were hidden by perception-jamming magic, yet he fancied a glint through the mask’s slits.
For mental reassurance, he sensed the wyvern lurking nearby.
A quick deep breath.
“So, what’s the method?”
“Ah, it’s not that hard. Similar to… what you did earlier?”
“…?”
What I did earlier?
Aster racked his brain.
Earlier? Just roughed up some alley thugs and bonded with a cartel over fists…
“…Wait, you mean?”
A hunch hit him; he stared at Evelyn.
She met his gaze squarely.
And when her lips parted.
“We take down the cartel running the black market.”
“…”
“Raid the black market? No point; where would we sell then? And it’s not about taking it over—we couldn’t manage it ourselves.”
“Then?”
Not raiding, not conquering.
Aster frowned at the growing frustration. Evelyn spoke soon after.
“What I mean is… we get chummy with that cartel, like before.”
In essence:
“No need for market research? They’ll know the flows, even in a black market. Might have ledgers.”
And more.
“Free labor too. Lots of perks, but bottom line…”
Benefits from hitting the black market cartel were plenty, but it boiled down to one.
“No pain, yes gain.”
Effortless profit.
…
Hearing that one-liner summary.
Clap, clap, clap.
Dry applause echoed through the alley.
“Brilliant, Master.”
This time, his voice held genuine admiration.