Chapter 94
Chapter 94
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 094
Chapter Title: Scavengers
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Meanwhile, as Kyle returned to reality, a new message appeared before him that he hadn't seen before.
Soul Eye
The power of the soul springs from the heart. Should the heart crumble and that power weaken, the soul has no choice but to be laid bare before one's 'eyes'. 'At such a moment, you can clearly read the thoughts and fragments of memory that rise in the exposed soul.'
"...!"
Kyle looked up upon seeing this.
'So, what I just saw really was the doppelganger's memory, huh?'
If so, then the answer was now crystal clear.
'...It wasn't a coincidence after all.'
He gazed down at the doppelganger, who was foaming at the mouth with eyes rolled back.
'Someone deliberately approached the doppelganger and set a trap.'
And that someone, unbelievably, had likely been scheming this since before the Magic Tower incident.
'They predicted I'd end up coming down to the lower layers?'
At that meticulous planning, Kyle recalled the pale-faced butler-like man.
'...It has to be that bastard.'
Beyond merely setting the trap, it tied into that ugly secret entangled with Dun City.
'Someone connected to that.'
It was a kind of instinct.
'Well, thanks to Soul Eye's growth, learning that mug was a stroke of luck.'
It was as good as gaining a clue to tail those guys.
At that moment, another message appeared before him.
'Herald?'
Kyle's eyebrow twitched.
'Is that bastard's name Herald?'
By then, Walter approached and spoke up.
"This damn doppelganger bastard."
He spat toward the deranged doppelganger with utter disgust.
"Hey. Can I finish this fucker off?"
"Got a grudge against doppelgangers, huh?"
"You bet I do."
With a high-pitched whine, a blade of blue plasma plasma ejected from Walter's implant.
"The lower layers are crawling with shitty things, but if we're talking the worst scum, nothing beats these assholes."
It wasn't just because they devoured people.
The real problem was that they could mimic their victims' appearance, memories, personality—even their abilities.
That's why doppelgangers never lived in groups among themselves.
They just parasitized human society, dragging people to ruin in the most vile ways imaginable—pure trash.
"Once you've been properly screwed over by a doppelganger even once..."
Walter grabbed the creature by the hair, yanking its head back as he growled.
"Just hearing the name makes your teeth grind, you know?"
At that moment, the doppelganger, dimly regaining its senses, spotted the blade before it and bulged its eyes wide.
"N-No...!"
"Yes!"
With a clean slash—the precise strike severed its neck.
"Aaaaaaaah!!!"
Even as its head tumbled to the ground, the doppelganger screamed—then fell silent.
"Whew, what a creepy son of a bitch."
Walter retracted the plasma blade and shook his head with a grimace.
"U-Um...!"
Then came a familiar high-pitched voice.
Kyle and Walter turned to see Mickey standing awkwardly, head still bowed, hand raised.
"H-How long do I have to stay like this...? M-My neck's gonna snap...! This helmet's seriously heavy!"
"......"
Walter arched a brow.
"You idiot? When I move, you just look up and move too. What was that...?"
"Whaaat?! Y-You said 'don't raise your head' in such a scary tone, so I just kept doing it!"
Kyle let out a hollow chuckle at her response.
Dutiful in her own weird way, apparently.
"It's all over now. Raise your head."
"Ow ow ow, my neck..."
As Mickey finally lifted her head and rubbed her neck, she spotted the decapitated doppelganger before them—and suddenly bolted toward the corpse.
"Take this, you bastard!"
In her bulky hazmat suit, she waddled forward and kicked the severed head with all her might.
"Serves you right!!"
Thwack! The doppelganger's head sailed splendidly into the darkness.
"Whoa."
A picture-perfect roundhouse kick.
But that was it.
"Wh-whoa!"
Unable to keep her balance, she toppled backward with a loud thud, landing flat on her ass.
"Owwie...!"
Even in the hazmat suit, it must've hurt plenty—she clutched her hip and groaned.
Walter stared at her, utterly baffled.
"What the hell's she doing by herself?"
"Beats me. Physical comedy?"
"Hard to believe she's from the 8th Special District, looking like that."
"Tell me about it."
She'd come dressed in that thick hazmat suit, whining about how scary the lower layers were.
Yet she didn't even flinch at a headless corpse—instead, she straight-up booted the head.
No matter how timid, a coward from the 8th Special District had guts of a different sort.
"U-Um...?"
"What?"
As Kyle asked, Mickey flashed an awkward grin from the ground.
"Th-The hazmat suit... I can't get up...!"
"......"
"......"
Hearing that, Kyle and Walter sighed in unison without thinking.
"Screw it, whatever!"
With a grunt, Mickey yanked off her helmet, slicked back her sweat-matted bangs, and sighed.
"Feels like I can breathe now. Phew."
Walter clicked his tongue as she took a deep breath.
"Yeah, yeah, what was with the helmet anyway? Whatever—hand over the compass."
"Compass? Oh, one sec."
Mickey rummaged in her bag, pulling out a crumpled compass and map, which Walter spread out on the ground with practiced ease.
"...You're finding the way with that?"
Walter nodded at her question.
"Normally, the lantern keeper guides you to the neutral zone."
He jabbed a thumb at the now-headless doppelganger.
"But look what happened to our guide."
So it was his turn now, as a former lantern keeper.
"You sure you can find it? I heard even lantern keepers don't operate past the layer boundary into Zone 20."
"True enough."
Walter placed the compass on the map.
"But that doesn't mean we can't find the way at all."
When they'd first exited the tunnel, he'd used it to gauge Zone 20's direction—but that alone wasn't enough.
The lower layers' darkness was like a jungle; unless you knew the paths inside out, you'd lose your bearings in no time.
"That's why this compass is practically essential."
He pressed a button, and with a whir, the needle spun to life.
"There's a zone down here that acts like a lighthouse."
Zone 30 in the lower layers.
"At its center is a massive stele emitting special energy."
Known as "Tenebra's Eye."
"That lighthouse's energy is so potent it blankets the entire lower layers—you can detect it from anywhere."
He showed Kyle the green-glowing compass.
"And this tracks Tenebra's energy."
The energy from Tenebra's Eye circulated the outer edges before flowing back into Zone 30.
"So, basically, this compass always points to the lighthouse?"
"Spot on."
Thus, even in the dark, you could approximate your direction.
"No idea exactly where we came out, but using that tunnel as reference and the direction you mentioned..."
Walter traced between Zones 20 and 30 on the map, muttering.
"From here, the neutral zone's... about 20 degrees east of the lighthouse."
"Ooh..."
Mickey, peering through her night-vision goggles, sounded impressed.
"Mister, were you a lantern keeper?"
"Handled the job back in the day."
"Didn't peg you for it."
"Why else would they drag me all the way here?"
"...You got dragged here?"
"......"
Walter cleared his throat awkwardly and continued.
"Just an expression."
"Huh. Thought Kyle brought you as a pack mule."
Kyle nodded.
"Pretty much."
"It was?!"
"Kidding, obviously."
With his subspace storage, he didn't need a porter anyway.
"Okay. Time to move out again."
Best to reach the neutral zone before nightfall.
"Pull out the spherical terminals for now. Formation..."
Kyle glanced at him, and Walter clicked his tongue.
"...No helping it."
With him guiding now, he couldn't cover the rear.
"Don't worry. I'll handle anything before it hits."
"Yeah, you're the only one I trust."
This was the guy who'd hunted doppelgangers and mutant medusas blind in pitch darkness, sans goggles.
Walter trusted Kyle could cover sudden threats swiftly.
"Alright, let's get going."
The group nodded and stepped back into the lower layers' gloom, leaving the dead doppelganger and medusa behind.
"Um, hey...?"
After walking some distance, Mickey, trailing Walter ahead of Kyle, glanced back at him.
"Kyle."
"...? What?"
"Can I ask you one thing?"
"Sure, go ahead."
She coughed lightly.
"Uh... how old are you, anyway?"
"......?"
'Age?'
Kyle scratched his head at the question.
Age, huh...
"What about you, Mickey?"
"Answering a question with a question?"
"Fair point."
He shrugged with a small groan.
"Just call it around twenty."
"...? Around twenty? What does that mean?"
"I don't know my exact age."
"Ah..."
Sensing some backstory, Mickey fidgeted with her fingers.
"Well... we're probably around the same age anyway. Wanna drop the formal speech...?"
Kyle blinked at that.
So that's what it was about.
'Seriously, just that?'
He shook his head.
"Sure, whatever."
"For real?"
"What, you don't like it? Then don't."
"No way, I love it. Yeah! Casual it is!"
Walter smirked at Mickey's childlike excitement.
"Jeez, the smell of milk wafts all the way here."
"Hey, mister. Is that something you say to a girl?"
"Girl? You're a kid. Go suck on mommy's tit some more."
"Sorry, no mom."
"Same here. You too, Kyle, right?"
"...? Yeah, no parents."
"What even is this conversation...?"
Mickey clutched her forehead, dizzy.
"Party name's Orphans United then."
"Orphans United? You're nuts, mister."
"Why? Oh, dad still around? My bad."
"No, no dad either, but..."
"You, Kyle?"
"Nope."
"Classic 8th Special District."
Walter cackled.
Having even one parent was a luxury in this shithole.
Talulla's grip didn't reach here.
Mickey pressed her temples.
"Sorry, but can we change the subject? Please?"
"Haha, sure thing."
The underbrush thinned, revealing flat terrain ahead.
As if some construction site long abandoned, materials lay scattered and rotting everywhere.
"...!"
Sensing a flash of Hyper Sense in his mind, Kyle yanked himself back.
Whiiiiz—Bang!!
A bullet grazed his shoulder and embedded in the ground, by a hair's breadth.
Kyle yelled.
"Everyone, take cover!!"
"!!"
As startled Walter and Mickey dove for nearby concrete chunks—
Clang! Blinding spotlights flooded them from all sides.
"Gah!"
"Kyaaah!"
Night-vision goggles were vulnerable to sudden lights.
But Walter's high-end infrared pair spared him major damage; he ripped them off and shouted.
"What the hell now?!"
Dozens of presences encircled them, as if lying in wait.
Mickey spotted their uniforms and gaped.
"Scavengers...!"
Rubbing her eyes and looking up, she saw them on the hill—properly armed, surrounding them.
Behind: a thud! Grotesque quadruped mechs lumbered into view.
Walter frowned at the massive cannons mounted on them.
"...I see. This is Scavenger territory."
The lower layers' Scavengers were basically a bandit coalition.
They roamed outside cities like the neutral zone, preying on travelers or extorting tolls.
But really, they were a money-laundering outfit tied deep with Zone 20's corrupt elites.
"Of all times, no guide...!"
Mickey scowled.
Guides usually had ties with Scavengers, avoiding trouble.
But without even a lantern keeper's certificate from a Zone 20 broker...
Against unknowns, Scavengers' response was predictable.
Walter narrowed his eyes.
'First, demand absurd tolls.'
If refused...
'Loot, kidnap, sell into slavery.'
A unfamiliar voice boomed across the clearing.
"Bold of you to invade our turf. Who the hell are you?"
Looking up: a young man perched atop one of those bizarre mechs.
"Red epaulets on the shoulders."
Walter noted.
"That's the Scavenger boss operating in this area."
The boss scanned them.
"From the looks, you're illegal entrants...?"
Grinning slyly, he asked.
"Where's your guide?"
"Ah, that! We got separated in the dark on the way!!"
Walter yelled from cover.
"Lost the guide in the shadows!"
"Ha, what?"
The man barked a disbelieving laugh.
"You expect me to buy that?"
Tutting shortly, he raised a finger.
"Right. Makes sense now. You killed and robbed your guide on the way, didn't you?"
"Who'd be crazy enough?! It was an accident!"
"Don't care. Anyway, why should I let unvetted nobodies like you go? You could be destabilizing scum messing up neutral zone security."
'What bullshit is this?'
Bandits preaching security? Kyle was dumbfounded.
"Alright, let's see... To build some trust between us, hmm... Ah, yes—this should do."
The Scavenger boss held up his index finger.
"One hundred million credits each, surface rates—three hundred million total. That oughta make me believe you. Whaddya say?"
Predictable as expected.
Walter bellowed.
"Three hundred million? Listen up! This ain't a joke!"
He glared at the boss from behind cover.
"Not too late! Pull your guys back now unless you wanna regret it!"
"Fuckin' hilarious. What? Retreat?"
The man's face hardened coldly, lips twisting.
"You think we're pushovers 'cause we play nice? Get a grip on the situation!"
Walter shouted back.
"The ones who don't get it are you!"
"Ha, you little shit. One hundred mil? Make it three hundred each for insolence. Three hundred! Transfer it here now, or you won't take a single step outta here."
Pointing at Kyle's group.
"Strip 'em to their skivvies—hand the men to the noble bloodlines as tribute. The girl... yeah, we'll have our fun, then sell her as a slave."
"You goddamn bastards."
They'd planned this from the start, inflating the price as pretext.
"What, can't pay?"
Grinning wider, the man raised his hand—click-clack! Barrels trained on them.
"Then pay with your bodies."
Walter warned.
"Last chance. Don't shoot."
"Full of shit."
"I said don't shoot! Final warning!"
The boss waved dismissively.
"Try not to damage the girl. Keep the rest barely alive."
"Yes, sir!!"
As they squeezed triggers—
"These idiots..."
Walter shook his head.
"Can't even take a chance when offered."
At the same instant, the charged dragon magic blasted forward.
"?!"
Kaboooom—!!