The Druid Who Devoured the Great Nature

In this world, the more bustling a city, the deeper the scars of urbanization.

Cities that had swallowed vast sums of capital and ballooned overnight were the worst.

Gellerg City was no exception.

Outlaws had carved out whole districts, running wild on payrolls of dirty money, straddling both the underworld and the surface.

“Contractor” was simply the polite title those outlaws used for themselves.

They took jobs, solved problems, and got paid.

On the surface, that sounded normal enough.

‘It’s the jobs themselves that aren’t normal.’

Petty disputes or grunt labor never required contractors.

They were hired when someone needed things settled outside the law.

Bounty hunts were the bare minimum.

Assassinations of rival corporate figures, leaking of monopoly technologies—every kind of vicious work passed through contractors’ hands.

And the offices like this one served as their intermediaries, arranging jobs and processing the messy paperwork.

‘No shortage of requests, I see.’

The corkboard on the wall bristled with pinned job slips.

Glance over the outline, accept it, and the broker would hand over details.

That was the process.

Which was why choosing the right broker was critical.

Were they trustworthy, competent, clean of rot?

The middle-aged man, Cromwell, was all that.

‘I’ve heard plenty of stories about him.’

Among the upper class, his name came up often.

They didn’t partner with just anyone, so I trusted their judgment enough to ride its coattails.

I was still examining the board when:

“…Careful type, aren’t you? Mind if I pour you a drink while you take your time?”

Cromwell’s words came smooth, polished.

‘Knows how to say things nicely.’

In other words, he was telling me to stall.

So that was his style.

The kind of refined speech high society liked.

I took the chance and stepped closer.

“I’m looking for a particular request.”

“If it’s not on that board, you won’t find it. Those are all the public contracts.”

“But those are just the public ones, aren’t they?”

I leaned on the chair across from him, and Cromwell’s eyes glinted as he scanned me head to toe.

Then he shook his head.

“Confidential jobs are reserved only for those who’ve proven themselves.”

The dangerous ones, the secret ones, the ones tied to the city’s upper crust—those were private.

Brokers like him handed those directly to chosen contractors.

For a first-timer like me, that meant layers of vetting.

Of course, there was a shortcut.

“……!”

Cromwell stiffened mid-polish of his glass.

“Wouldn’t you say this qualifies me?”

Before he realized it, the World Tree’s vine had slithered like a serpent around him, its tip twitching beneath his jaw.

Click!

Panels in the walls slid aside, gun barrels training on me from every angle.

Naturally, an office dealing with cutthroats had state-of-the-art defenses.

But too late.

He couldn’t stop me in time.

“…An unusual talent.”

Despite being caught off guard, Cromwell remained composed.

He even deactivated the system.

Keen instincts, or sheer nerve.

Likely both.

「The World Tree carefully studies Cromwell.」

It wasn’t threatening his life; it was observing him.

Almost comparing him to me.

Since I hadn’t meant the gesture as a real threat, I let it be.

“Not bad skill, but that alone doesn’t win you work. What’s lacking is trust. If a job went sour and a client complained, I’d be forced out of this business.”

Yet his eyes held a trace of interest now.

He’d decided I wasn’t just some drifter.

“I’m not asking for the impossible. That’s not what I’m after.”

I eased back as well.

A broker was a relationship for the long haul.

A show of power was fine, but pushing further would’ve soured things.

“Maybe I can’t see confidential jobs, but what about expired ones?”

Jobs were endless.

What was scarce was manpower.

Anything with poor terms or low pay got ignored.

Plenty of jobs were left to gather dust.

If I hadn’t seen what I sought on the board, odds were it had expired.

“…That’s a rare taste.”

“You must have old files lying around. Doesn’t cost you anything to let me look, does it?”

“…Fair enough.”

Muttering about the oddities he encountered, Cromwell fetched a stack of papers and spread them on the table.

“Take a look.”

I leafed through them carefully.

The payoff came quickly.

“I’ll take this one.”

Cromwell raised a brow at the slip I chose.

“…Just within deadline, barely.”

“Even if it had passed, no client would be foolish enough to stiff the pay.”

“True enough, but still…”

His puzzled gaze fell on me.

“A goblin-clearing job in the slums? You could’ve picked fresher ones off the board.”

“Just hand over the details.”

I didn’t bother answering his suspicion, only pressed the process forward.

The job itself was irrelevant.

‘What mattered was the client’s name—Greenwood.’

Cities constantly expanded, clearing and reclaiming land.

But inevitably, there were limits to administration.

Some lands fell through the cracks.

Those left behind decayed.

If District 3 was the glittering downtown, then District 7 was its opposite—the slums.

Crossing the boundary felt like stepping into a different world.

The skyline shrank, buildings sagging and low.

Even at midday, the air was dim, as if time itself lagged.

Damp, chill air clung to the skin.

Rotting water and foul, unknown odors stung the nose.

Step in a puddle, and nameless insects squished beneath your boot.

Like wading through a garbage heap.

Flutter, flutter!

The World Tree was curious even here.

Slipping down my leg, a vine dipped into a puddle.

「The World Tree shudders and spits out the water.」

Of course. The instant it tasted, it recoiled.

“Why’d you even try? Drink that and you’ll get sick.”

Always pulling stunts.

I soothed its drooping leaves and scanned the surroundings.

‘A grim sight.’

The people here weren’t far from the factory workers.

Grimy clothes, blank faces drained of hope.

The looks they gave an outsider like me carried no warmth.

But I ignored their suspicion.

They were desperate, but too worn out to pose a threat unless provoked.

As long as I kept my distance, I was safe.

‘Perfect place for goblins to nest.’

Greenwood’s request was to cull goblins.

Not powerful, but notoriously vile.

They preyed not on the rich, but on the poor, wringing them dry.

Naturally, their kind thrived in slums.

‘Why would an environmental group post this kind of job, though?’

The question nagged at me.

This was the sort of work for a militia or the city watch.

‘Chasing goblins doesn’t revive nature or clean pollution.’

Their crimes were real, but in the grand scheme, a drop in the bucket.

I couldn’t read their true intentions.

‘Even the moss…’

I brushed a patch of moss clinging to the damp stone wall.

Instead of slick and slimy, it felt brittle, crumbling at my touch.

Even non-vascular plants that grew under almost any condition were like this.

The ivy covering the wall was the same—hanging limp, as though on the verge of death.

‘This isn’t normal.’

It struck me again.

Soil, air quality, sunlight—all the conditions plants needed to thrive.

But here in the city, it wasn’t just those surface-level factors choking their growth.

‘Something else is interfering.’

I couldn’t say what just yet.

Thud.

That was when something blocked my path.

Looking down, I saw a small child holding out a bowl.

“…Um.”

Their messy hair veiled most of their face.

From the build, they were about the age of an elementary graduate.

One glance at those thin hands clutching the bowl, and I knew what they wanted.

‘Begging, huh.’

A quick glance around confirmed it—eyes were on me.

Listless as they usually seemed, money had a way of waking people up.

That was when they turned into bandits-in-waiting.

“I’ve lived here a long time. If you need something, I can help.”

The child whispered near my ear.

Quick-witted, born of growing up in a harsh place.

After some thought, I answered.

“Can you show me an empty place nearby where I can spend the night?”

“…Yes.”

They had understood my real intent.

A coin tossed in public would just be stolen moments later.

If I was to give anything, it had to be somewhere out of sight.

‘Besides, this won’t be a one-day job.’

Even at best, I’d need at least a night here.

Paying for shelter wasn’t wasteful—it was necessary.

The child led me through a maze of tight-packed buildings, twisting and turning until we reached an old structure.

Creak!

Inside, there was no sign of life.

Broken furniture, but at least a bed.

Filthy, but so had been the factory dorms.

For one night, it would do.

“No one lives here. Hardly anyone passes by, either.”

I nodded in satisfaction.

‘How many times has this kid done this?’

They knew exactly the kind of knowledge an outsider would want.

Too sharp to rot away in a slum, this one.

‘…Not that I’m in any position to help.’

My own circumstances were tight enough.

“Here. Hide it well so no one takes it.”

I handed over some money.

A small sum, but here it was worth days of meals—if it wasn’t stolen.

“Um…”

As I dusted the bed, the child lingered.

Peeking their head back through the door, they whispered:

“Be careful.”

“…?”

“Especially at night.”

Their words lingered in the empty room.

Cold wind seeped through broken windows.

The silence, without even the chirp of insects, made me feel like I had fallen alone into some alien world.

Tap, tap.

Leaves brushed against my skin.

「The World Tree scratches at goosebumped flesh, saying it feels a chill.」

“You’re not even human. What goosebumps?”

I chuckled softly.

“Don’t worry.”

I’d logged thousands of hours in this game.

I knew danger better than that child did.

‘The slums are notorious for their dangers.’

Different from the lawless Fourth District, but dangerous in their own way.

Residents seemed indifferent to each other, but any change was noticed instantly.

Especially when it came to outsiders—word spread fast.

They weren’t avoided because they were filthy, but because they were frightening.

‘I was spotted.’

The child’s winding path hadn’t mattered.

Plenty of eyes already knew I was here.

‘If I stay put, they’ll come to me.’

I could read them easily.

They’d want to make an example of the outsider bold enough to step into their turf.

At the center would be the goblins.

‘I won’t let that happen.’

I’d considered hunting them down myself, but that carried risk.

If they bolted, I might never catch them.

There was a reason they preyed on the weak—they knew their limits.

Which meant…

‘I’ll need bait.’

Fortunately, I had the perfect condition for a trap.

My newly handsome face.

Night deepened.

In the slums, dusk turned the streets black.

If downtown nights were noisy, the slums’ were silent.

Even locals didn’t wander here after dark.

One wrong move and you might end up a corpse by morning.

Step, step.

My footsteps echoed down a narrow alley.

Even the sound felt eerie, as if not mine.

That was the atmosphere.

I couldn’t let my guard down.

Rustle!

「The World Tree bristles with tension.」

Like it had eyes.

Even at bedtime, it was restless tonight, writhing as though keeping watch on what I couldn’t see.

Creeeak.

Suddenly, a noise made it jump.

Turning, I found only a cat, thrashing after some rat.

I glared, and it bolted.

The World Tree sagged in relief.

“No need to get so worked up.”

Goblins didn’t sneak up without sound.

They weren’t predators, they were trappers.

‘Looks like they haven’t fully claimed this area yet.’

Even walking openly at night, I didn’t feel great danger.

If they had, something would’ve happened already.

‘But this is their hunting ground.’

Crumbling walls and scattered junk bore marks of fighting.

Dark stains on the ground.

I knew that look—dried blood.

The half-dead residents here wouldn’t have caused it.

This was goblin work.

‘So they must be nearby.’

I scanned carefully.

Thunk.

Something at my toe.

Looking down, I saw a rusted trap, jaws wide.

‘There we go.’

A crude mechanism, wired to a signal device.

Ugly, but functional.

Snare prey, call the goblins.

‘How many will come, I wonder.’

My fingers curled.

This was different from ambushing an unarmed overseer.

But I wasn’t nervous.

I’d fought goblins hundreds of times.

“Get ready.”

I whispered to the World Tree and tossed a stone onto the trap.

Crunch!

The jaws snapped shut, shattering the rock.

Strong enough to take a bear’s leg.

Beep! Beep!

The signal flashed red.

I limbered up, waiting.

And soon, I felt presences gathering in the once-silent alley.

(End of Chapter)