Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 087
Chapter Title: George Brockett
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"Hmm~ Hmm hmm."
A certain spot in District 13 of the 8th Special District.
George Brockett, who had opened the doors to the coffee shop Alice early that morning as usual, neatly wiped down the picture frame in one corner of the bar with a rag.
"...What the heck is that?"
Mickey stared at the frame, which boldly occupied space amid various expensive-looking ornaments and instruments, her face twisted in disbelief.
"Ah, this?"
George cleared his throat lightly and pointed at her as he spoke.
"You'll be shocked when you hear."
"What is it?"
"An autograph."
"......???"
Mickey unwittingly furrowed her brow at his words.
"That's an autograph?"
She looked again at what seemed less like an autograph and more like some lazy scribble done out of annoyance.
"That?"
'Isn't it just a doodle?'
Undeterred, George wagged his finger and smirked unnecessarily.
"Yeah. Guess whose?"
"Whose autograph is it...?"
"The Butcher."
"What?!"
"The one and only original in the 8th Special District—no, in all of Dun City."
He shrugged and added,
"Probably."
"An autograph from the Butcher... you don't mean..."
Mickey recalled the massive death knight rampaging right in the middle of the slums not long ago.
"You went there and got an autograph of all things?"
"Of course, he gave me his business card too. This was a bonus."
George crossed his arms contentedly and nodded toward the frame.
"But it was worth it, right?"
Mickey recoiled in disgust at the sight.
"Ugh, that's creepy..."
It felt even weirder coming from him, with his usually refined image.
"Hey, that's harsh."
He asked,
"So, what I asked for?"
"Here."
Mickey pulled a small USB from the pocket of her short shorts and handed it over.
"Something really did happen, huh?"
"Yeah?"
"Yep. Caught a ton of investigators coming and going around the Mage Tower."
As George plugged the USB into the socket at the nape of his neck, she continued.
"As expected, the mainstream media in the nearby administrative districts didn't breathe a word about it."
"Media's basically just state-run outlets anyway."
In this controlled society, there was no such thing as press freedom.
The magazines published only in the 8th Special District or deep web articles were about as free as it got.
'Problem is, they're so free that there's a ton of unverified bullshit too.'
But even in the 8th Special District, there were places that didn't allow even common gossip like this—the lower layers beyond the interlayer checkpoint in District 19.
Excluding the neutral District 20, each district had its absolute ruler enforcing their own strict rules.
Different districts in the lower layers might as well be separate little countries, even within the same 8th Special District.
'That's why getting info down there is no easy feat.'
But that didn't mean there were no ways.
No matter how deep the lower layers, exchange with other districts was essential, and District 20 existed precisely for that as a neutral zone.
Unless it was something like District 21, the isolated vampire kingdom cut off from the outside—where there were people coming and going, information flowed too.
"So, why the sudden interest in the Mage Tower? Expanding business outside the 8th Special District now?"
Mickey tilted her reddish bobbed hair as she asked.
"Though I doubt there's much demand."
People in the 8th Special District didn't care much about events in other administrative districts.
At best, with all the recent noise about the Security Stabilization Project, it came up in conversation a bit.
"Nah, nothing like that."
He flashed a meaningful smile.
"Just personal curiosity."
"Huh...?"
It stemmed from when he'd gone to the slums to meet the Butcher. He'd seen women talking with him.
They clearly weren't from the 8th Special District—clean skin, subtle elegance.
Their attire and other details suggested they might be from the Mage Tower.
The Butcher himself wielded magic ridiculously well, after all.
Naturally, it made him consider ties to the Mage Tower.
'Mage Tower folks rarely venture out anyway.'
Not even to the upper layers, but all the way to the slums to meet the Butcher.
'Made me think something big was going down there...'
George let out a small groan as he reviewed the photos Mickey had taken.
'Definitely looks like something happened.'
He set the photos aside for a moment and reminded her.
"By the way, don't forget tomorrow. Something's up in District 19."
"Ugh..."
Her freckles scrunched up in genuine distaste at the mention.
"What's with that face? You took the money, so do the job."
"Ugh, I know. Who's saying no?"
She turned her head away with a tsk, her lips pouting dramatically.
"It's just... you know. Even getting near the lower layers gives me the creeps."
"Not just because you hate that guy Scott?"
Scott was one of the informants they met periodically at the interlayer border in District 19, bordering the lower layers.
Mickey let out a small groan and defended herself.
"It's not that. That guy's gaze every time we meet just feels gross."
"Don't judge by looks. That's rude."
"I'm serious, it's not that!"
"Sure it is. I know you're a sucker for faces."
"No, I'm not."
"Yeah, yeah."
As George shook his head and went back to wiping coffee cups,
a sudden phone message popped up in front of him. He quickly answered the call.
"Yes, this is Coffee Shop Alice."
"Y-Yes, you've reached the right... huh?"
George's brows furrowed slightly at the oddly familiar voice, and then it came again in his ear.
"?!"
George dropped the coffee cup he was holding.
"District 13, huh."
Kyle scratched behind his ear as he glanced at the black forest visible by turning his head.
"Feels like it's been ages."
"...Ahem."
Lane, who had driven him there, cleared his throat softly.
It reminded him of when he'd first met Kyle in this black forest.
'...I was out of my mind back then.'
Diving headfirst into an inferiority complex and mouthing off to the Butcher without knowing better.
Looking back, he was no different from some reckless punk who didn't value his own life.
The thought still made his head spin.
"W-Well, uh. Call when you're done. I'll come pick you up."
"You're heading out?"
"Yeah. You're meeting a local informant, right?"
Lane shrugged.
"No point in me, an intel agency guy, sticking around."
No one would likely recognize Lane anyway, but his unidentified status from their perspective could raise unnecessary suspicion.
Best not to stir up wariness.
"Got it. See you later."
"Mm."
With a nod, he drove off.
This spot was a bit removed from District 13's city center, so turning his gaze revealed endless fields of brown pampas grass-like plants.
"...Didn't know the 8th Special District had places like this."
The black forest was vast, apparently leaving some outskirts like this untouched.
He turned away from the gray cityscape and walked along the unpaved road stretching through the chest-high grasses.
At the far end of this vast meadow stood another jungle of buildings lining the horizon.
Kyle thought,
'Probably around District 15.'
A cool breeze like autumn wind tickled his ear.
The ancient wind swirled around him, savoring it.
For a brief moment of rare peace, he took a deep breath.
Soon, he spotted a bright red compact car parked not far off.
"...Why the hell am I stuck doing errands like this for him."
A woman in short shorts and a sleeveless top leaned against the car door, fiddling with her phone and grumbling.
"Does he think I'm his personal servant? Tch, thinks money fixes everything."
At that moment—beep! An incoming payment notification.
Mickey checked the amount and nodded.
"Hm. Money does fix everything."
Kyle approached her and asked,
"Are you the one Mr. Brockett mentioned?"
"Huh?"
Only then did Mickey notice his presence and look up.
Kyle couldn't help but flinch.
She wasn't a stunning beauty like Mary Fleetwood or Lyn Yenitz.
But she had a cute charm with her freckles that was appealing in its own way.
'Hmm~.'
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
'This ominous feeling I haven't had in a while.'
New beauties were always something to watch out for.
Without hesitation, Kyle activated [Divine Eye].
Undeterred, Mickey's eyes sparkled.
'Drone footage was low-res, so I couldn't tell...'
She covered her mouth with her phone, thinking,
'Whoa, he's kinda hot.'
"...Excuse me?"
"Ah. Y-Yes! You're the Butcher... right?"
"...Kyle Clark."
"Whoa, awesome."
Mickey clapped her hands.
"I'm a fan!"
'Doesn't seem like it.'
Not even a little.
His [Divine Eye] saw right through such flattery.
'But...'
Gazing at her soul, Kyle thought,
'Doesn't seem like a bad person.'
No hidden agenda in sight.
'No magic cultivation either.'
Her mana flow was utterly ordinary.
Still, better safe than sorry.
As he activated [Nebra's Super Sense],
she stepped closer and introduced herself.
"I'm Mickey Rose. Uh, normally I help George gather info."
"Ah, nice to meet you. But..."
Kyle glanced around the pampas-choked surroundings.
"Why meet in a place like this...?"
"Oh."
Mickey pointed beyond the dense grass.
"George's cafe is nearby. Hmm, over that way... somewhere."
"...? Why's a cafe out here...?"
"Haha, well."
She scratched her head, finding it absurd herself.
"George hates the city. More precisely, the hustle and bustle."
Kyle blinked.
"...While living in the 8th Special District?"
"While living in the 8th Special District."
"......"
What an odd guy.
Mickey cleared her throat and pointed to her red compact car.
"Ahem. Hop in! I'll drive you right over."
"Ah, sure. Thanks."
As Kyle nodded and started following her,
a piercing [Super Sense] stabbed his mind.
"!!"
His eyes widened. He swiftly used the ancient wind to hurl her aside.
"Eeeek?!"
Boom! Mickey crashed into the grass like a bullet.
Then, razor-sharp attacks poured in as a chilling voice echoed in his ear.
"Fool. You should've ditched the girl."
Splat! Slash slash slash!
It was a barrage like lightning strikes.
Having shoved Mickey away first, he couldn't fully dodge—the blade sliced his shoulder, both arms, legs, and side in an instant.
Crunch! Crimson blood sprayed up from the dirt path.
Amid the scattering droplets, the black-skinned man retracted his sword and curled his lips.
"Five times. It's over."
The law activated simultaneously.
Crackle—
The Butcher stood there, stripped of all abilities, even physical ones, reduced to a target.
Now, to lop off his head like plucking a strawberry from cake—
"Yeah, slash away."
"?!"
A voice that should never have been heard.
The demon knight's eyes bulged. As the alarm blared, he tried to leap back—
Shlick!
A massive greatsword burst through his chest out of nowhere.
"Guh, ack...!"
[Subspace]
[Eject stored items to specific coordinates.]
The demon's pupils trembled.
His gaze shifted to the man standing unscathed despite the law's activation.
"Y-You... how...!"
And then surged the dragon's aura.
"Now then."
Boom!!
His form shot like lightning, seizing the flustered foe from behind.
"My turn?"
The moment Kyle's hands gripped the sword hilt emerging from subspace—
"?!"
-[Massive Damage] HP
Flames of sacred fire erupted, and the massive greatsword cleaved his body in two.
Kaboom!!