Tying Up Loose Ends

"Hold it right there!"

A severe-looking knight barred Bennett's path, backed by an armed detachment. Soldiers clad in supple, high-grade leather armor and bearing drawn blades fanned out with practiced precision, naturally encircling the party. They had done this countless times before—and a faint, metallic trace of blood hung about their gear.

Bennett focused entirely on mastering his emotions. The man standing before him was a knight sworn to the Drake Family.

Barely suppressing the surge of murderous intent clawing at his chest, Bennett maintained his usual impassive demeanor and spoke.

"...Is there a problem?"

"You lot just cleared the Hard difficulty, didn't you?"

"We did."

"Did you see our family's expedition team in there?"

Bennett pretended to notice the crest emblazoned across the knight's breastplate only then.

"We crossed paths once."

"You did?"

"We didn't speak, however. They seemed in a terrible hurry to get somewhere and simply barked at us to clear the way."

"Hmm. Is that so?"

The knight mulled it over for a brief second before giving a curt nod.

"Very well. You may go."

Bennett offered a slight bow and guided his team toward a suitable merchant pavilion.

"We're looking to sell some spoils."

"Of course! Welcome, welcome!"

Bennett and his companions carefully unloaded their haul, deliberately withholding any belongings or identifying gear stripped from the Drake expedition.

"Oho! You brought in quite a handsome profit this time around!"

Bennett frowned involuntarily. The merchant manager was making an unnecessary fuss, raising his voice so loud that eyes immediately turned their way. Passing scavengers stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in awe and envy at the sight of the party's bountiful loot, while clerks lounging at empty stalls cast covetous glances. It was natural enough—not every scavenger walked out with riches—yet the timing could not have been worse.

The knight who had blocked their path moments ago was making his way toward them once more.

Gliding over without a sound, the unnamed knight stood by, silently watching the transaction unfold. His gaze lingered heavy upon the weapons and armor piled high across the counter. He didn't utter a single word, which only set Bennett's party further on edge.

"Thank you for your patience! Here is the full payment as agreed!"

Accepting the heavy coin pouch without a word, Bennett shot a sharp glare at the pavilion manager. The knight had already drifted away after finding nothing suspicious, making the silent reprimand safe enough.

"I-Is something wrong, sir?"

"...Never mind."

Consigning the Racco Merchant Guild to his personal blacklist, Bennett led his team out of the Pioneers' Hall.

Only after they cleared the hall and reached the bustling thoroughfare of the central district did Bennett finally speak at ease.

"Do they normally dispatch welcoming parties like that?" Kyle asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Hard to say."

"Perhaps..." Erika offered her thoughts hesitantly. "Could it be because of the firearm?"

"Ah. Come to think of it."

There was indeed the service handgun and live ammunition they had salvaged from the twelfth floor of the Closed Police Headquarters—functional and ready to fire at the pull of a trigger. If word had leaked out, the family would certainly deploy men to secure it before it could ever reach rival hands.

"Um, Bennett-nim?"

"Speak."

"You do intend to sell that pistol, don't you?"

Bennett nodded.

"Where do you plan on selling it? Even if we bypass the Pioneers' Hall and approach a merchant guild's headquarters directly, rumors are bound to spread. Our adversary is the Drake Family—they'll track it down eventually."

"I intend to sell it to the dwarves."

"Ah!"

Realization dawned on the party, and their faces brightened. Dealing with dwarves guaranteed a clean break with zero aftermath. They were fiercely insular, and their martial strength and political leverage rivaled that of the high nobility.

"You mean to sell it to Lord Balduin, right?"

"More or less."

While he did intend to offer it to his close friend, Bennett had no desire to hand the dwarves a charity bargain.

"We part ways here for today."

"Understood!"

Kyle and Edgar bowed politely and walked off side by side, as they always did. Bennett turned his attention to Erika, who lingered behind.

"How was your first run?"

"Well..." She pondered the question seriously for a moment, then beamed. "It was far more exciting than I expected!"

"Was it?"

"Of course, fighting that expedition team was terrifying. If I'd been on my own, I would have died for sure. But Bennett-nim, you saved my life back there, didn't you?"

"Did I?"

"Yes!"

Bennett tilted his head, then gave a slow nod as the memory surfaced. Right—one of the Drake retainers had made a direct charge at Erika, so Bennett had eliminated him first before swinging the Shooting Star toward other targets.

"A-Anyway!" Erika's cheeks flushed crimson for some reason, and she hastily changed the subject. "I'm really looking forward to our next run. Wondering what kind of dungeon we'll enter, learning about the lore of that other world... and earning good coin isn't bad either."

"Glad to hear it."

Bidding Erika farewell, Bennett turned his steps toward home. Following his usual routine, he looped through the surrounding alleys to confirm he wasn't being tailed before finally crossing his threshold.

"You're back, Oppa?"

Bella greeted him warmly at the door, her complexion visibly healthier than it had been a week prior.

"Nothing happened while I was away?"

"Nothing at all!"

Bennett untied the pouch at his waist and dropped it onto the table.

Clank!

"...What's that? That didn't sound like ordinary coin."

"Take a look."

Bella casually peeked inside, only to stumble back in sheer astonishment.

"G-Gold bars?!"

"Small ingots."

"They're still solid gold!"

Standard commerce relied on copper, silver, and gold coins, with bank drafts serving as high-value currency within Dungeon City. Yet units existed beyond even those: silver and gold ingots. And Bennett had just plunked down an entire sack of gold ingots as though it were pocket change.

"Just how much did you make?"

"A handsome sum."

He had also fenced the mundane arms stripped from the expedition on his way back. Even after dividing the proceeds with his party members, each would walk away with at least one ingot to their name.

"There's still one more item to sell."

"There's more...?"

"The real prize, in fact."

Stashing the gold into his Sub-space Pouch, Bennett changed into comfortable clothes and lay down. He slept deeply and soundly for three hours before rising to prepare for the night ahead.

Slipping out of the house, Bennett made his way toward Sasha's residence. He swept the dark alleys with practiced vigilance. Moving without a sound, not a single watcher took notice of his passage.

The door was securely locked, but using the specialized tools he had brought along, he picked the tumbler without difficulty. Closing the door silently behind him, he stepped into a familiar setting, where the faint, sweet scent of Sasha's perfume still lingered in the stagnant air.

With Insight active, Bennett combed every inch of the room. Important items were bound to be hidden away. True to his expectations, he uncovered a concealed compartment beneath the floorboards near the bed. Though someone had taken considerable pains to hide it, it could not escape the penetrating vision of his skill.

What emerged from the hideaway was a weathered rucksack. Dumping it upside down onto the floor, spare clothes, a coin purse, and rolled-up missives spilled out. Two letters in total.

The insignia that had been branded into Rose's pupils was stamped deeply onto the parchment—clearly the seal of The Union.

Bennett unfurled the second missive and held it up to the moonlight filtering through the window. Blank at first glance, hidden script began to surface under the pale glow.

...It seemed Rose's house, the Reed family, had placed a private contract on his head.

"Dammit, what a pain in the ass to be doing this in the dead of night."

"What else can we do? Orders from above are orders."

His sharpened hearing caught voices outside. Bennett swiftly swept the contents back into the rucksack.

"What was the name again?"

"Sasha."

"Wait, she's a woman?"

"Yeah. Heard she's got quite a reputation in these parts."

Bennett carefully cracked the window open. A faint click sounded, but it was drowned out by the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠boisterous banter outside.

Thud, thud.

"Anyone inside?!"

Thud, thud, thud!

"Nobody home? What gives? Isn't today the reset day?"

"She should've returned and been back by now."

"Don't tell me she kicked the bucket?"

Slipping out of Sasha's flat, Bennett dissolved into the darkness.

"Still no word?"

"My apologies, my Lord. Shall I dispatch men to press them?"

Leonard Reed was about to nod when he suddenly stopped himself.

"...No. Let us wait a while longer."

Realizing he was acting far too impatient, he summoned the last dregs of his restraint. The butler bowed deeply and withdrew from the study.

Left alone, Leonard attempted to focus on the documents before him, but he couldn't concentrate in the slightest.

He was well aware that The Union had dispatched mercenaries rather than an official death squad. When he first learned of it, he had been furious, yet deep down he was forced to accept reality. His title of Baron within The Union simply meant he had contributed little of real value to their syndicate. Though fallen, he was still of aristocratic blood; he understood their cold, transactional mindset better than anyone.

That was precisely why he had reached out to the mercenaries personally with an offer:

Slay his daughter's killer and bring back the bastard's severed head, and on top of The Union's bounty, he would grant them every reward within his power.

Was it thanks to that promise? The mercenaries hadn't dragged their feet, moving into action immediately by entering the dungeon on the target's heels.

The problem was the silence. By this hour, a report should have arrived.

Could they have failed?

He gave his head a vigorous shake, banishing the stray thought. Even if they weren't an official death squad, they were mana-wielding mercenaries. There was no conceivable way they couldn't handle a single commoner mercenary who couldn't even manipulate mana.

"Haa..."

Suffocating under the tension, Leonard rose from his chair and walked toward the liquor cabinet on the far wall. Bottles of exquisite vintage waited behind the glass.

He poured a goblet full to the brim and turned around—only to freeze in utter horror.

Standing beside the window, arms crossed, was a man.

"You?!"

Recognizing Bennett, Leonard's eyes bulged with rage and shock.

"Have a seat first."

Every fiber of Leonard's being screamed to tear down the ornamental broadsword mounted on the wall and charge, but the intruder had a repeating crossbow leveled dead at his chest.

Glaring with naked hatred, Leonard slowly sank back into his chair.

"You dare slaughter my daughter and show your face in my home?"

"Someone came trying to kill me. I couldn't very well stand still and let it happen."

"You should have stood still and died, you filthy insect!"

While Leonard's face flushed a furious, mottled red, Bennett remained entirely composed.

"I have a question. What is this?"

Bennett held up the ring he had taken from Rose. An enigmatic band engraved with a strange crest. To an untrained eye, it looked like nothing of great monetary value, yet she had kept it tucked deep inside her undergarments. It was bound to hold far more significance than it appeared.

"...!"

"Is it your family signet?"

A sneering, venomous smile crept across Leonard's lips—one that reeked of malice.

He's hiding something.

After a brief pause, Bennett spoke again.

"I haven't told you where I found it, have I?"

"...What? What nonsense are you spouting?"

"Rose kept this hidden inside her bra. What on earth could it be that—"

"You bastard!!!"

Leonard's fury exploded into madness. Fallen or not, Rose was the daughter of noble blood. She would never have stripped before an enemy willingly, which meant Bennett had stripped her corpse after cutting her down. The reality that his precious daughter had not only been murdered, but had her bare flesh exposed to a lowly commoner, drove him beyond reason.

It was a hazard every scavenger accepted the moment they stepped into a dungeon, and an inevitable ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fate from the second Rose drew steel against him first. But rational calculation ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meant nothing to Leonard now. His pride refused to accept the reality.

"I will slaughter you, flay you alive, and hang your naked corpse in the streets for—"

Knock, knock.

Just as Leonard was about to scream at the top of his lungs, a polite knock broke the air.

Freezing, he glared sharply toward the door.

"Who is it?"

"I have brought your medicine, Lord Leonard."

Leonard glanced at Bennett, who merely offered a dismissive shrug.

"...Enter."

The door swung open, and a maid in a crisp uniform entered carrying a small tray with a bowl of medicine. Spotting Bennett, she hesitated.

"Pardon me, my Lord. I was unaware you had a guest."

"Leave it and go."

"Yes, my Lord..."

Setting the bowl onto the desk, the maid turned to leave. Bennett tracked her with his gaze before shifting his eyes back to Leonard.

In that exact fraction of a second, the maid pivoted silently on her heel, a steel awl gleaming in her grip.

Whoosh—

Simultaneously, Leonard surged out of his chair. Bennett launched his leg forward and kicked the heavy mahogany desk with violent force.

Crash!

Slamming the massive desk into Leonard and crushing him against the wall, Bennett reached over his shoulder and caught the maid's lunging forearm.

Crack!

"Mmph!"

Even with her arm snapping violently backward, she stifled her scream, her frame trembling from the agony. Bennett ripped the awl from her shattered grip and drove it straight into her throat.

"Hrk..."

A look of utter shock flashed across her face as Bennett ripped the spike back out. Blood geysered violently from the gaping puncture wound.

Thud.

Collapsing to the carpet, the maid clutched her ruined throat, glaring up at him for one fleeting second before the light fled from her eyes and her head slumped sideways.

Having dealt with the assassin, Bennett turned toward Leonard. Wedged tightly between the massive desk and the stone wall, the baron was thrashing with all his might, yet he couldn't budge the heavy furniture an inch. It was an overwhelming display of physical force that even Bennett could never have pulled off had he not funneled every unassigned stat point into raw Strength.

"I will ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ask one last time. The ring. What is it used for?"

Leonard sneered, his expression making it clear he had no intention of answering.

Without a shred of hesitation, Bennett drove the awl straight into the man's heart.

Thwack.

Leonard's body jolted silently, then slumped limply across the desk.

Tossing the bloodstained awl aside, Bennett thoroughly searched the office. The first thing he uncovered was a small safe concealed behind a hidden panel in the wall. He considered picking it, but spending time cracking a lock in the heart of enemy territory was foolish.

If I can carry it, I can open it at my leisure later.

On a whim, he held the mouth of his Sub-space Pouch up to the safe.

Shwoop.

The entire safe vanished inside.

"...Well. Look at that."

Finally, he inspected Leonard's corpse. Around the baron's neck hung another ring, threaded onto a leather cord like an amulet. It was an exact match to the ring he had taken from Rose. The engraved crest, though mysterious in meaning, was identical.

A fallen noble house keeping an assassin disguised as a maid, and a pair of unidentified matching rings.

It was clear the ring functioned as some manner of token or credential, but he lacked the context to decipher its full purpose for now.

Yet one outcome was indisputable: House Reed would never trouble him again.

Though The Union remained, Bennett was not overly concerned. In the desk drawer, he had just uncovered a rather useful dossier. With this leverage in hand, he could keep them quiet as well.