The news about the appearance of slave traders in Eldra Village spread widely across the southern side of the country. But what truly caught people's attention wasn't the heroes who saved the village—rather, the slave traders themselves. Their failure meant they would soon set their eyes on another region, driving the surrounding villagers to stay alert.
In one of the dark alleys where Takeshi had headed, the members of the criminal group he encountered lay on the ground—except their leader, Zarko, who stood trembling before Takeshi, sweat sliding down his forehead.
"So you have no information?"
Takeshi spoke, a shallow cut on his stomach from Zarko's wind blades, his fist raised toward him.
Zarko exhaled sharply, glaring at Takeshi with burning hatred.
"I told you, you bastard! I don't know anything about those cursed bastards!!"
Takeshi lowered his fist and turned away, ignoring Zarko's insults.
"Where do you think you're going, you damned coward!? Come back and fight me! Or are you scared of my powerful bla—"
"I don't need to fight people like you. Since you don't know anything useful, there's no reason to continue."
Hearing that, Zarko gathered all his strength and rage into one attack. A sharp wind blade formed as he extended his arm, sending it straight toward Takeshi.
"Take this, you coward!!"
It shot forward at high speed—but Takeshi had expected it. He dodged effortlessly, advanced toward Zarko, and landed a crushing punch to his stomach.
"Things always end in a fight…"
Zarko collapsed, clutching his stomach as if a cannonball had slammed into him.
Takeshi turned again to leave, but Zarko stopped him with his voice:
"Why… why is it that people like you—higher than us in the damn hierarchy—always ruin our lives!?"
Because of Takeshi's physical strength and fighting skill, Zarko assumed he possessed an ability. He tried to stand, but the agony in his stomach pinned him down.
"Why do you privileged, gifted geniuses get to decide our fates? You're the reason we chose this filthy path of crime and humiliation!"
Takeshi froze for a moment.Then he turned his head and shot Zarko one final, serious look:
"Do these clothes look like those of a privileged man to you? Do these eyes and these features look privileged to you? Answer me!!"
That was the last thing Zarko heard before losing consciousness.
Takeshi felt some of his anger fade after shouting those words. He continued walking, thoughts racing violently in his mind.
'What genius? What talent? Someone who lived hiding in the shadows of forests, terrified of the unknown—someone like me—has talent? Someone who didn't move an inch until his sword was stolen… talented?'
He walked deeper into the dark alleys.Criminals and gangs rarely roamed during the day—they preferred night. But Takeshi's luck led him to Zarko's group today.
Eventually, Takeshi reached a district that looked abandoned at first glance. The houses were old and half-destroyed, and the smell of filth mixed with blood filled the air.
It was the Orphans' District.
He took a few steps forward when his ears caught voices. As he moved closer, he saw an open space surrounded by ruined houses. Blood was splattered on the ground, and around it stood men wearing blue cloaks adorned with a golden star.
They were police officers—all third class, given they bore only one star. With them stood a resident of the district who had witnessed the incident: Rais, the leader of the poor group whom Yamikaji almost killed.
"I wished for death…"
Takeshi caught the middle of the conversation but felt he could gain useful information if he listened silently.
"I wished for death rather than be saved by that… thing. He was like a monster—a demon wearing human skin…"
One of the officers pulled out a small notebook and began writing.
"So: a man wearing a black cloak with a sword attacked Yamikaji and cut off his arm. Any other information?"
The moment Takeshi heard Yamikaji's name, his eyes widened. He almost stepped out to speak with Rais… but stopped himself, accepting he had come too late.
"Alright, you may leave now, Mister Rais."
Rais didn't stay a second longer—he ran off immediately. Takeshi was about to leave as well, until a voice rose behind the officers.
"I see…"
The police turned toward the speaker.
A tall man stood there wearing a long black overcoat that covered him from head to toe, gloves, long socks hiding all his skin, and a black hat shading his eyes from the sun.
One officer spoke:
"Aren't you the famous detective Varlock—the Mysterious Detective?! What are you doing here?"
Another added:
"Were you assigned to this case? It's related to the White King's Skull Gang—"
Varlock raised his hand, eyes fixed on the bloodstains.
"No. There are two cases here, most likely…"
He crouched and pointed toward a small blood spot separated from the rest.
"Judging from the incident records, the aura you're all searching for came here first, then moved to an abandoned area… which means Yamikaji either brought the aura source here and it got stolen by that mysterious man… or the mysterious man was the original owner of the aura."
He stood up and looked at the officers.
"Therefore, the place where the policemen were killed earlier has a 50% chance of being the police station itself. Unfortunately, I cannot assist further—it's not my case."
The officers felt both admiration and jealousy.
One asked:
"You truly proved your insight, Detective Varlock. Earlier I asked if you were assigned to this case."
Varlock began to walk away. Before disappearing, he said:
"No. I have a kidnapped child case in the central region. Besides—having a C.P.O agent here is more than enough."
These were valuable clues, so the police quickly headed to their headquarters.
Takeshi, however, stopped listening the moment aura was mentioned.
'If my sword really is the source of the aura everyone is talking about… should I search for the gang's hideout—or that man? Since Yamikaji stole it, it must be with that mysterious person now…'
He turned to leave, murmuring:
"You truly are a genius, Mysterious Detective Varlock… thanks to you, the perfect plan just formed in my head."