Chapter 197
Chapter 197
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 197
Chapter Title: Honey Rises in the City, Moon Flows on the Door. (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
* * *
***
The group's plan to have lunch at a hotel hit an unexpected snag.
“We’re sorry. Our hotel doesn’t accept beastkin.”
From famous Earth-brand luxury hotels to cheap traveler’s inns.
Every single place took one look at Corbus and freaked out, refusing to give them a room.
Even the Saintess’s protests fell on deaf ears.
The hotels’ refusal to accept beastkin wasn’t about discrimination or hatred—it stemmed from primal fear.
“Beastkin terrorists ate our hotel staff as room service just a week ago. Sorry, sir, but please go somewhere else…”
Thanks to that, the group couldn’t even secure a hotel room and ended up sitting on the roadside curb for their meal.
Fortunately, the barley bread slathered with barley jam(?) from a street dwarf vendor was delicious. The McCall wasn’t great, though.
Anyway, the group sat on a bench by the street where carts rolled by and filled their stomachs.
When Neti secretly dumped her McCall into a flower bed and the setting sun cast long shadows over it.
Corbus brushed bread crumbs off his wings and spoke.
“It seems like it’ll be hard to get lodging with me around.”
His tone was light, but the group tensed up, realizing what was coming.
“A day or two is no big deal, so we can just…”
Yeomyeong, munching on barley bread, cut off his words.
“Split up? No thanks.”
“But the lodging…”
“No need to worry about that. Worst case, we can rent out a whole guesthouse.”
With that, Yeomyeong pulled a pouch of gold coins from her inventory.
Corbus stared at the hefty money pouch, speechless for a moment, until the Saintess let out a chuckle, then he opened his beak.
“…Never thought I’d be moved by the sight of money in my lifetime.”
Neti giggled along with Corbus’s half-joking, half-serious tone, the Saintess smiled softly, and Seti silently dipped barley bread into her McCall.
In that relaxed atmosphere, they filled their bellies for a bit.
Once the meal was done, the group stood and headed toward their next lodging spot.
The dwarf whose bread basket they’d emptied waved goodbye, and just as they gathered at a crosswalk signal.
A black limousine screeched to a halt right in front of them.
As eyes turned to the ultra-luxury sedan limo rare even on Earth, the rear door opened, and a suited dwarf stepped out.
A dwarf with a monocle and his face covered in burn scars.
Unlike the dwarves they’d met before, this one exuded a soldierly aura.
Seeing a few passersby flee at the sight of him, he seemed to be quite famous in the city…
He strode straight toward the group. And without preamble, he said to Yeomyeong.
“Got a moment? There’s someone who wants to talk about your inventory.”
***
As history proves, criminal organizations all spring from similar soil.
Incompetent governments and unstable public safety.
Masses who pursue profit by any means necessary.
Discriminated minorities and laborers…
The moment those who conform to society become laughingstocks, and both rich and poor prefer easy violence over justice.
Criminal groups naturally become part of society.
Medieval Sicily was like that, modern America was like that, and now Gemini City is…
“Short version, summary only.”
Yeomyeong cut him off from the plush limousine seat.
The dwarf, who’d been rambling, shot her a glance.
“This is important stuff too, you know.”
“We’re from Dreytorial.”
At the mention of the top trash city beyond the dimensional gate, the dwarf’s face hardened.
“…Trash bin spawn, eh. Talking big in front of a pupa.”
“…”
Yeomyeong neither denied nor confirmed it.
She just tilted her head slightly, aiming an ice pick at the dwarf’s forehead.
The dwarf glanced between Yeomyeong and the ice pick, then spoke again when Neti asked, “Can I open the fridge?”
“Fine, skip our history then.”
“Summary.”
“Hmm. You know the organization ruling this city is called ‘La Cosa Nostra’?”
Yeomyeong nodded. The American mafia that crossed through the dimensional gate.
“Truth is, La Cosa Nostra’s just a front. Really, it’s three groups allied together.”
“…Three groups?”
“The beastkin’s Grassland Brotherhood, the Earth mafia’s La Cosa Nostra, and… our Knight Order.”
Yeomyeong frowned. A Knight Order allying with criminals in one city?
What reason would the mafia have to join hands? External enemies? Balance of power? Or… an absolute powerhouse?
As Yeomyeong pondered that far, the dwarf gave the answer.
“The peace between the three holds solely thanks to our Captain. It’s the result of his efforts for this city’s citizens.”
“…”
Even though a mere thug was using cringey titles like Knight Order and Captain, Yeomyeong didn’t mock him.
Dreytorial’s palace lords had been thugs ruling by force and power, after all.
Plus, this was a city connected to Earth.
Anyone who could coordinate thugs here had to excel in both strength and cunning.
Of course, that was just speculation. Yeomyeong replied in a sharper tone.
“For a guy like that, things look pretty messed up.”
Bandits in the distant plains using organization names, beastkin thugs tailing the CIA right in the city center…
Yeomyeong didn’t voice it, but the dwarf clamped his mouth shut as if he’d heard.
A short silence.
Whether from shame or not, the dwarf gazed out the window briefly, sighed deeply, and broke the quiet.
“Lately, the Captain’s been… a bit under the weather.”
“…”
“The moment that got out, all sorts of scum started acting up, thinking it’s their chance. Idiots who don’t even know loyalty or honor.”
The dwarf stared straight into Yeomyeong’s coldly sunken golden eyes.
And just as he was about to say more, Seti cut in.
“Enough. Just tell us why you came for Yeomyeong.”
Right. Earlier, the dwarf had approached the group out of nowhere, asking them to come along, and Yeomyeong couldn’t refuse.
Because of the one word he’d dropped: ‘inventory.’
Seti, who knew what that meant, had no choice but to board the limo with Yeomyeong.
And now.
Tired of the endless chatter, Seti spoke as if she couldn’t take it anymore.
“If you’re planning to trap us, just do it quick. Time’s wasting.”
Her tone was so vicious that Neti froze mid-sip of cola from the limo fridge.
The dwarf rubbed his scarred face and replied.
“…No such intention. If my actions caused misunderstanding, I apologize.”
“Skip the apology. Just give us the reason.”
The dwarf didn’t answer right away. He paused, then sighed.
“…I don’t know the exact reason.”
“…”
Clack—Corbus’s beak clicked at almost the same moment, and the dwarf hurried to explain.
“I’m just here on the Vice Captain’s orders to fetch you.”
“Pretty chatty for someone who knows nothing.”
“Better to talk than stay silent, right?”
What nonsense—Seti started to rise from her seat in frustration.
The limo stopped. They’d circled the city and finally reached the destination.
The group checked out the window simultaneously, and all frowned.
It was the very hotel they’d been turned away from second.
“We’ve arrived. Imperial Grand Hotel.”
Whether he felt the ice pick at his nape or not, the driver smoothly announced their stop.
***
Unlike their first visit, the hotel staff didn’t reject Corbus.
If anything, they bowed repeatedly to him, apologizing for not recognizing his connection to the dwarf.
Perhaps exploiting the mood, the dwarf casually asked.
“How many rooms will you book?”
As Seti’s eyes chilled, Yeomyeong stepped forward.
“Three big ones. All top luxury rooms with city night views.”
“And meals?”
“Room service for all.”
The dwarf nodded as if that was no problem. From how naturally he ordered the staff around, the hotel was likely the Knight Order’s property.
“This okay?”
Seti shook off the staff trying to carry her bags and asked. The others seemed to think the same, as the staff backed off awkwardly.
Yeomyeong shrugged.
“They know about the inventory and still sent the limo. We can at least talk.”
“…And snag lodging while we’re at it?”
He smiled faintly instead of answering. As Seti shook her head helplessly, burly thugs—clearly distinct from the hotel staff—approached the group.
“Jepun, sir. Here to escort the guests.”
So the dwarf’s name was Jepun. He held out his palm to Yeomyeong.
The brutes bowed to Yeomyeong, then circled around him.
“To the special suite.”
The brutes tried to lead Yeomyeong away alone, but Corbus blocked their path.
“Disciple, you sure about going alone?”
Yeomyeong glanced around, then nodded.
“I’m fine. Go rest first.”
“If anything happens, send a signal. I’ll smash this hotel flat.”
It didn’t sound like a joke. Yeomyeong promised she would, then followed Jepun and the brutes, parting from the group.
Contrary to expectations, they didn’t take secret passages or underground tunnels.
They simply rode the elevator to the ambiguous 7th floor, to the room at the far end.
The room they arrived at seemed just soundproofed well.
No fancy locks, no magic circles—utterly ordinary hotel room.
Only Yeomyeong could enter.
The brutes vanished down the hall, leaving dwarf Jepun bowing at the door.
“The Vice Captain is inside.”
As the door closed behind her, Yeomyeong entered to find a middle-aged man seated at a table.
Salt-and-pepper hair slicked back, neatly trimmed mustache, and solid muscles visible under his suit.
Just from his looks, he was no ordinary man, and the mana emanating from him amplified it.
A superhuman of a level rare anywhere.
He greeted Yeomyeong with an ornate sword laid on the table.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Sancho, Vice Captain of the Knight Order running this city. Thanks for accepting my sudden invitation.”
“Yes, pleased to meet you.”
Yeomyeong sat opposite. Her eyes naturally went to the sword—clearly no ordinary blade.
The blade was solid dragon bone, and the hilt bore not one, but three intricate magic circles.
Auctioned on Earth, it’d fetch billions.
Why put something like this on a table? As Yeomyeong wondered, Sancho spoke.
“Fine sword, isn’t it?”
“…Yes, looks like an incredible blade.”
Not as good as mine, though. Yeomyeong swallowed that thought as Sancho stroked the blade.
“A treasure of the now-fallen Imperial Knight Order.”
“…”
“You’ve probably guessed, but it’s quite valuable. By your standards… a weapon worth its keep even in the late game.”
My standards? Yeomyeong loosened her grip slightly. Ready to draw her sword from inventory anytime.
“W-what do you mean by…”
“No need to play dumb. I’m the same as you.”
“…”
“Someone who fell into this world—not reality.”
Yeomyeong said nothing. Sancho glanced between her face and hands, then subtly rose.
“I was a movie director making films for this world’s canon.”
Player, writer, now director.
The director asked, facing Yeomyeong’s coldly sunken eyes.
“You fell into a game, right? Game developer? Or just a regular player?”
* * *