In the world of Psychedelia, the Palladio family was the textbook definition of sub-quest villains—the kind that existed solely to be farmed for experience points before disappearing.
In gaming terms, they were mere extras. The only reason Alon possessed so much information about them was that he had cleared sub-quests involving the Palladio family multiple times during his playthroughs.
After all, the experience rewards from their quests were quite lucrative.
In short, within the game, they were nothing more and nothing less than fodder for the protagonist's growth.
However, that was only when viewing them through the lens of a game. For Alon, who now lived in this world as his reality, the sensation was quite different.
In the game, the family was introduced with a brief description: "They run an organization called Avalon, dealing in prostitution and drugs." Now, Alon was witnessing the reality behind those words with his own eyes—even if it was only a glimpse.
…In fact, he was witnessing it in real-time at this very moment.
"...."
Alon shifted his gaze slightly toward the front.
There, the body of the recently deceased Tonio lay inside a coffin.
Cause of death: An accidental fall… I see.
For a tycoon who sold drugs across the entire kingdom district, it was an absurdly pathetic and hollow way to go. Of course, Alon knew perfectly well that Tonio hadn't died from a mere fall.
In fact, it would be stranger for anyone in this room not to know.
"...."
Alon turned his head to look to his side.
There stood Leo, the eldest son of the Palladio family. He had spent a long time locked in a bloody power struggle with Tonio for the position of head of the house. Currently, Leo stood with his head bowed, but a thick, dark smile was plastered across his face.
His mouth is practically splitting from ear to ear.
He didn't even seem interested in hiding it. Seeing as he couldn't even manage his facial expressions properly, anyone could guess that Tonio's death was no accident.
Yet, despite everyone knowing the truth, not a single person raised an objection against Leo.
Not the knights, not the vassals, and not even the current head of the Palladio family, Aldimore. None of them said a word to the eldest son.
Well, it's not like the Count is in any state to talk. He's so wasted on drugs and women that he probably doesn't care if his sons kill each other or not.
Alon let out a small, dry laugh as he watched the Count, who was currently clutching a woman and a pipe of magic herbs even during his own son's funeral, having long since abandoned any semblance of dignity.
True to its dark fantasy setting, this family is a total train wreck.
Of course, Alon had no intention of doing anything special.
His plans were already progressing steadily without him having to take direct action. The only variables in his plan were the Five Great Sins.
I need to find the rest of them soon.
With that thought, Alon watched the final stages of the funeral proceed.
Just as the lid of Tonio's coffin was about to be closed—
"Hmm…?"
A question flickered through Alon's mind.
…Was Tonio's death supposed to happen like this?
In the game, only Leo appeared during the Palladio family episode, so Alon had assumed Tonio's death was a foregone conclusion.
The reason he felt a sense of incongruity now was because of something Leo had said while being put in his place by the protagonist.
…I clearly remember a scene where Leo wailed about how he had finally become the successor after years of agonizing struggle to kill his brother.
Having replayed the game countless times, and seeing how Leo's current smile looked far too easy compared to that desperate memory…
"Hmm."
Alon tilted his head, recalling Leo's end, but eventually just gave a light shrug.
It wasn't something he was particularly curious about anyway.
####
A few days after Tonio's funeral.
The Palladio family, which had been noisy due to the second son's death, became remarkably peaceful.
The succession struggle had vanished.
Of course, there was still the third son, Alon, but no one expected the family to fall into chaos again.
Unlike Tonio, who had the power to oppose the eldest son by partnering with organizations to push drugs, everyone knew Alon possessed no power whatsoever.
Even Leo, who was usually hypersensitive to succession issues, didn't seem to give Alon a second thought.
Instead, he seemed far too busy devouring the drug business Tonio had left behind.
In any case, as peace returned to the Count's estate, Alon was busy reading a letter from Yutia.
"I see."
The letters they had been exchanging for nearly a year were, as always, not much different from the previous ones.
The contents were mostly about the orphanage—stories about how a few of the children were growing up well, along with a few mentions of Deus, whom Alon had sent there recently.
Growing up well without any deficiencies, huh…
Alon smiled with satisfaction at the short line in Yutia's letter.
Perhaps because he had asked her to take extra care of Deus, mentioning he was a "sickly child," she always included a brief update on him whenever she wrote.
…Talking to her through these letters, she seems like nothing more than a kind, ordinary country girl.
The thought of visiting her crossed his mind, but Alon soon shook his head and continued reading.
As he reached the end of the letter, Alon suddenly spoke.
"Evan."
"Yes, my lord?"
"…Do orphanages usually receive a lot of donations?"
"Well, usually… they get some, but I don't think they get that many."
"Right? I thought so."
The reason Alon asked was because of the list of sponsors written at the end of the letter.
…Was it three months ago? No, four?
Strangely, someone else had started sponsoring the orphanage alongside Alon.
Of course, the letter only mentioned that "a merchant named Malano has provided sponsorship," so he didn't know the exact amount.
Including me, five people sponsored the orphanage this month…
He wore a peculiar expression while looking at the letter, but soon dismissed it as trivial.
Well, the more sponsors, the better.
Alon wrote a reply, casually responding to Yutia's stories, and handed it to Evan.
"Will you be going in person this time as well?"
"No, didn't I just go a few months ago?"
"It was three months ago, sir."
"How… did you say it was back then?"
"If you mean the orphanage, I believe I told you it was running well. Deus, whom we dropped off last time, seemed much improved as well."
"Is that so?"
Alon nodded with a satisfied expression at Evan's words.
As I thought, even if they are the Five Great Sins, they couldn't have been born that way. It feels good to know the kids are growing up right. They only turned out like that in the game because they were placed in environments that forced them to kill.
Alon realized once again how crucial a person's upbringing was and added:
"There's no need to go in person this time. Just have someone from the Mercenary Guild deliver it."
"Understood—ah."
Evan nodded and was about to leave when he remembered something.
"And about that thing you mentioned last time?"
"What I mentioned?"
"The ancient book."
"...Did you find it?"
"I'm not certain, but I did find a lead."
"Tell me."
At Alon's command, Evan began to relay the information he had obtained from the Information Guild.
"...Found it."
He had finally located the place where the Third Sin resided.
####
Margot, a viscount's estate located next to a small village in the east of the Asteria Kingdom, was famous for its beautiful glass handicrafts.
However, that was merely Margot's public specialty. The real source of income for the House of Margot was drugs.
More specifically, their primary revenue came from the organization known as 'Pallan,' which used Margot as a distribution hub and paid the Viscount's family handsomely for the privilege.
Pallan, which had been steadily expanding its influence using Margot as its base, had grown into a massive organization with hundreds of members, each of its executives commanding over ten Experts.
Therefore, Roten—the boss of Pallan, who had reached the level of an Expert himself despite being a mercenary—believed that Pallan would grow even larger than it was now.
…At least, he had believed that until yesterday.
"...."
Roten looked around with eyes full of terror.
Before him lay dozens of corpses drenched in crimson blood.
"Ugh, h-help! Save me!!"
"Please—please—!"
"Aaaaaagh!!"
The few remaining members of the organization were screaming like madmen.
"Ugh…."
Roten watched his subordinates with trembling eyes.
Normally, seeing his men alive should have felt like a reliable shield. Even if they were weaker than him, their sheer numbers should have been enough to provide a sense of security.
Yet, Roten felt nothing but dread looking at them.
"Ugh, ugh…."
Because every single one of the surviving members was holding their sword in a reverse grip, aiming the blades at their own throats.
"No! I can't! No, no, no—!"
"Aaaaaaaagh—!!"
"Stop, stop it! Please… please!!"
The faces of the men were filled with nothing but plea and desperation.
Regardless of their will, however, their bodies naturally drove the reverse-gripped swords into their own necks.
"Gah—"
The last dozen or so members met their ends by their own hands.
And then.
"!"
Roten's own body began to move against his will.
"N-no…!"
His hand gripped his sword in a reverse fashion.
"Ple—please—!"
He tried everything to stop it, but his body, once seized, refused to listen, merely trembling violently.
In his final moment.
"!"
Roten saw it.
Inside the pitch-black hideout, a pair of violet irises was staring intently at him.
The moment he saw them—
Stab!
Roten had already plunged the sword into his own throat.
Thud.
With that final sound, Deus, who had been hidden in the shadows until a moment ago, walked out in silence.
"Good job."
Yutia, who had been with Deus, naturally followed him out.
"Is there any meaning in killing these people?"
Deus asked as if he had been waiting for her. Unlike a year ago, his eyes now held a clear light of reason.
"Are you pitying them?"
"It's not that. I know these bastards were grinding up humans to make drugs."
"Then?"
"...I'm just wondering if killing these people actually helps in killing those other damn bastards."
At Deus's question, Yutia spoke with a smile.
"Of course it does."
Her answer was clean and concise.
"This is the foundation for creating a place for That Person to return to."
Tap.
As she spoke, a pattern began to form beneath her feet.
Etched into the magic circle was a giant eye with a crescent moon inside it.
"When he visits this place himself, we can't have it be unsightly, can we?"
"...I understand."
Deus, looking down at the pattern beneath her feet, seemed to grasp her intent. He nodded and said nothing more.
""Everything according to his will.""
After murmuring the words they had repeated hundreds of times, the two of them, having completed the pattern on the floor, vanished into the darkness.
Not a soul remained in the hideout of Pallan.