A Disaster-Level Assassin Has Been Freed

Chapter 147: Demons (3)

“That’s… a bit dangerous, isn’t it?”

Hearing Maria’s words, Harang expressed concern.

Who were they?

Godoks.

Beings created through the rituals of Black Magicians.

Even if it wasn’t by their choice, there was no reason to think the Holy Kingdom would look kindly on such beings.

Maria agreed, of course.

She said, “I understand your concern. But don’t worry. I’m not planning to sell out our peers to save myself.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll completely hide my identity and maintain close ties with the Holy Kingdom, that’s all. Honestly, there’s no proof we’re Godoks, right? It’s not like it’s written on our foreheads.”

“…”

“It’s funny for a mafia boss to say this, but my ultimate goal is to become an honorary priest. That’ll give me advantages in business and shield me from suspicions. The village will be more cautious too. Crossing the Holy Kingdom is a whole different matter.”

Would it really go that smoothly?

The question rose to his throat.

But Harang couldn’t voice it.

Maria’s expression was too desperate. Her eyes, puffing cigarette smoke, were filled with anger, worry, sadness, and anxiety. Only a faint glimmer of hope kept her from collapsing.

‘Well, no method… is perfect.’

He was in the same boat.

Raising personal strength to resist the village?

That was equally absurd. If the village’s top three administrators stormed Marzen now, he’d be powerless. His current freedom to assist the guild stemmed from the village’s mysterious inaction.

‘Is there a problem within the village, or are they clashing with those who attacked it? I don’t know…’

There was no perfect plan.

To others, Maria’s approach might seem far more plausible than his own.

In the end, Harang could only nod slowly.

“I see… Got it.”

“You don’t look convinced. I get it. I know this is a plan full of holes. But the Holy Kingdom is my only option. I’ve got a connection to a fairly high-ranking person too.”

“A high-ranking person?”

“Yes. I didn’t come up with this blindly. I’ve recently gotten close to a First-Class Demon Inquisitor, one of the top ones. He’s appropriately worldly for a paladin, and we get along. I’ve been slipping him bribes carefully, and my primary goal is to build a stronger bond with the Holy Kingdom through him.”

“Hm. A First-Class Demon Inquisitor. How strong is that?”

“Very strong.”

“Hm.”

Harang’s expression was ambiguous.

He’d met a Second-Class Demon Inquisitor before, during the Love’s Orphanage incident with Priest Benedicto.

‘He wasn’t weak, but he didn’t have anything special either.’

Slightly better than Philip Portville?

Maybe not even that. The Portville Family Head was getting stronger lately, defying his age.

Sure, there’d be a gap between Second and First-Class, but honestly, Harang doubted this person held the kind of power to brighten Maria’s expression.

Did she read his thoughts?

Maria continued.

“You don’t seem convinced… That’s fine. You’ll meet him anyway, since your guild needs to.”

“Meet him?”

“Yes. For business, of course. Especially since it’s about liquor… Many think Crove’s interests go through our mafia, but that’s wrong. It’s more accurate to say they go through that Demon Inquisitor. Your guild leader, Sheratiya Viyan, probably knows.”

“What, a paladin obsessed with money… Is he really from the Holy Kingdom?”

“He is. From a fairly prestigious family, too. But that’s what makes him better for me. His worldliness gives me something to offer and something to gain… Anyway, that’s how it is.”

“Hm.”

“I’ll likely arrange the meeting with the Demon Inquisitor. You, me, your guild leader… the four of us will talk, and you’ll get a sense of who he is.”

“Are you indirectly suggesting I join the Holy Kingdom too?”

“If you were on the same boat, I couldn’t ask for more. I’d welcome it.”

Maria stood and spread her arms as if to hug him.

But Harang didn’t reciprocate. With a slightly aloof expression, Maria sat back down, lit another cigarette, and said, “No warmth, huh? No warmth.”

“Sorry. My head’s a mess.”

“Well, it would be. Think it over. Let’s head back. Your guild leader’s patience is probably running dry.”

“Ah!”

She was right.

As an escort, he’d left his guild leader to chat for so long. It could even be seen as rude.

Nodding, he stood, and Maria stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and followed.

Spritz, spritz. She masked the strong smell with perfume, then sprayed some on Harang.

“What are you doing?”

“This smells nice. Want me to gift you a bottle?”

“Not really.”

“Then too bad.”

That was the end of it. They walked back to the meeting room where Sheratiya was in silence, apologized, and took their seats.

But the uneasy atmosphere didn’t settle.

Whispers from the mafia subordinates reached Harang’s ears.

“What’s that? The boss and their escort smell like the same perfume?”

“No way?”

“No way what? They probably shared a cigarette or something.”

“Even that’s suspicious enough. Have you ever seen the boss share her prized perfume?”

“Hm, true.”

“…”

What kind of serious speculation were they muttering about?

Harang couldn’t quite grasp it.

But Sheratiya was different.

As a guild leader needing to create a good atmosphere for a new venture, she struggled to smile properly and asked Maria,

“Uh, well…”

“Do you have something to say?”

“…You and Harang seem pretty close, huh?”

Deliberately using ‘Harang’ instead of ‘escort,’ Sheratiya spoke.

Maria flashed a bright smile and replied, “We were very close.”

“…”

“We’ve shared sights both beautiful and ugly, you could say.”

“I see.”

All day, Sheratiya struggled to keep her lips from drooping.

***

A week passed.

During that time, Sheratiya Viyan busily conducted market research. Though she’d already gathered much information, local investigation was another matter, keeping her relentlessly occupied.

And today, to attend a ball hosted by Maria, the mafia boss, Sheratiya put effort into her appearance for the first time in a while.

Since their product was whiskey—premium whiskey, no less—she needed to make a good impression on Crove’s high society.

Above all, she had to build rapport with a figure nearly as powerful as royalty.

The First-Class Demon Inquisitor of the Holy Kingdom, Juberroa Schmitz.

“Is he that important?”

“Very.”

Harang asked, and Sheratiya answered promptly.

At the relatively young age of 55, he’d risen to the top of the First-Class Demon Inquisitors. Not just devout, he was ambitious, unhesitatingly using his position to grow various businesses.

“For a priest, he’s awfully worldly.”

“Well, he’s not the only one. You can’t think of the Holy Kingdom like it was centuries ago. It’s no different from other kingdoms now.”

“Corrupted, you mean?”

“Not quite corrupted… but very tainted by the world. If Paern Rudeman were reborn and saw this, he’d probably slap everyone from the Holy King to the lowliest priest.”

“Paern Rudeman? Oh, him.”

Harang recalled a distant memory.

Paern Rudeman. The owner of the snow-white Holy Sword and the greatest, mightiest paladin who’d performed heroically in the war against orcs.

Harang let out a small chuckle. The idea of such a stern figure slapping everyone was mildly amusing.

But those thoughts had to stop there.

Regardless, the person they were about to meet wielded immense influence in Crove Kingdom. For Sheratiya’s business to succeed, two key points mattered: the meeting with the mafia boss and this current occasion.

‘As an escort, I just need to stand quietly behind her.’

There was nothing to worry about.

Even if the other side asked questions, he just had to avoid nonsense.

With that in mind, Harang entered the ballroom with Sheratiya, standing quietly behind her table without dancing or eating.

About thirty minutes passed.

With much attention, the First-Class Demon Inquisitor, Juberroa Schmitz, appeared.

“Haha, greetings! So much interest in an old man like me! Of course, I love this attention! Bwahaha!”

Basking in the flood of praise and flattery, he didn’t look like a paladin at all. His appearance was more like a sly mercenary captain.

But that wasn’t important.

Harang narrowed his eyes to gauge the man’s true nature.

‘How strong is he?’

That was what Harang was most curious about.

But then—

Juberroa Schmitz, who’d been smiling and mingling, suddenly froze.

An unmistakably unnatural move.

Concerned voices rose around him.

“Lord Schmitz?”

“Are you alright?”

“Are you ill…?”

“Hm, one moment.”

Brushing them aside, Juberroa Schmitz strode somewhere.

In front of him stood Harang.

“Hm.”

“…”

“Hm, hmm, hm…”

Looking from the front.

From the side.

From behind, even below.

Juberroa Schmitz stared intensely at Harang.

After a moment, he spoke in a low voice.

“Who are you, kid?”