Chapter 95

“Did the white devil arrive?”

Or perhaps it was a god of death.

Such was the aura exuded by the man standing before Mukomuu and the others—Kiwi  Alaya, a high-ranking official of the Demon Nation. Despite being alone, his ominous presence radiated overwhelming power.

“So, where are the illicit drugs?”

 Alaya’s jet-black eyes, as if they had peered into deeper abysses than Mukomuu and his group’s schemes could ever reach, scanned the underground room. A sly grin spread across his face.

“Well, if you don’t have any, I suppose you could start making them right now. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

“!!!”

Iwagane stiffened, as if someone had shoved his shoulders.

And no wonder.

That tone—it was unmistakable. Kiwi  Alaya had uncovered every detail of the organization’s sinister plot.

If that was the case, retreating was no longer an option.

“Hey, you bastards! Kill him!”

A sharp bark.

Iwagane pushed the backs of the guards forward.

“It doesn’t matter how much he knows! If we let him walk out of here alive, we’re finished! But fortunately, he’s alone! Deal with him before he can reveal anything to anyone else, and we’ll make a quick getaway!”

As expected from someone in the upper ranks of the organization, his response to the unexpected was swift.

While Mukomuu and the guards could only stand there dumbfounded, Iwagane grabbed Mukomuu’s arm and took a large step toward the escape route.

“We’ve paid a fortune for this! Don’t mess it up!”

The guards drew their weapons. A greatsword, a mace, an axe… If one of those powerful strikes, wielded by their burly hands, landed, not even a slender demon nation officer like  Alaya would emerge unscathed.

––But.

“Alone? No, not quite. There’s two of us.”

From beneath Kiwi  Alaya’s feet, his shadow began to writhe and twist unnaturally.

“It seems he has a knack for hiding in shadows. No wonder he’s so skilled at taking people by surprise.”

Emerging from the black shadow was a mummy-like figure clad in a dark hood. Its hollow eyes locked onto the guards.

“Leave them alive. Zombie Thief.”

The instant  Alaya spoke, the scene unfolded in the blink of an eye.

Before anyone realized it, the guards were collapsing, their balance lost. A short cry, a flash of blood—then they were all on the floor clutching their ankles.

No one understood what had just happened.

But—

Drip. Drip.

Beside Mukomuu and Iwagane, the sound of liquid hitting the floor echoed.

A faint stench of bandages filled the air.

“What… is this sound?”

Paralyzed with fear, Mukomuu moved only his eyes toward the source. But there was nothing there.

No one was there.

“Huh—”

Drip, drip.

Yet the drops fell, forming a small red puddle on the floor.

The source was higher up.

Mukomuu lifted his head, looking toward the ceiling.

––And from directly above, the face of the mummy stared back at him.

“–––!!”

It clung to the ceiling, standing upside down, gripping a knife stained with crimson blood. Its hollow sockets seemed to swallow Mukomuu’s gaze whole.

“Aaaahhhhhh!!”

Before he realized it, Mukomuu was running.

His witch’s hat fell to the floor, but he didn’t care. He ran deeper into the underground chamber.

No—anything but this. Anything but being killed by that monster!

By sheer coincidence, Mukomuu seemed to be heading toward the escape route.

The underground corridor grew narrower and darker as he ran, but it showed no signs of being a dead end. With one hand brushing along the wall, Mukomuu pressed forward, heedless of anything else.

Surely, it must lead somewhere—a dried-up well, or the basement of another building. The path was flat, and even in the darkness, he didn’t stumble.

But—

“––Ugh!”

He smacked his nose hard against a wall that had suddenly appeared in front of him and fell back onto his rear.

“No way… it’s a dead end!?”

At last, he had no choice but to stop. There was no other way but to turn back.

…Turn back?

Impossible.

There was no way he could go back.

Not when that monster was waiting there—

“Mukomuu.”

“Hyaah—!”

A hand suddenly clapped his shoulder from behind. Mukomuu was about to scream when a spiny, hairy hand covered his mouth.

“Quiet. It’s me—Iwagane.”

“…!?”

“Running off by yourself like that, huh.”

Click.

A faint, bluish light illuminated the darkness. Iwagane had lit a magical lamp, revealing his face dimly in the gloom.

“Why, I don’t know, but that bastard didn’t immediately chase after us.”

“…W-why not?”

“How should I know? But he crouched near the fallen guards… Maybe he was finishing them off, or perhaps… No, it doesn’t matter right now.”

Iwagane shook his head, grabbed Mukomuu’s arm, and pulled him along.

“It’s the worst-case scenario, but if we keep going like this, we might still escape alive. We’re leaving the Demon City for good.”

“What… about my sister?”

“It’s impossible. Leave her. We don’t have time.”

“No, I can’t! What was the point of me helping with this new potion research if—”

“Shut up!”

With all four of his arms, Iwagane slammed Mukomuu forcefully against the wall.

“You’ll keep making potions, even outside the Demon City. For me!”

“No… I won’t! I refuse!”

“Quiet. The only answer I need from you is ‘yes.'”

Iwagane clenched his free sixth fist tightly and raised it high, ready to strike—when suddenly:

“Huh?”

His wrist was grabbed. A mummy’s hand reached out from the shadows behind him.

And then—

“Ugh—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

In an instant, Iwagane’s body was dragged into the darkness.

Crash! The magical lamp he was holding fell to the floor, shattering into pieces. Its light flickered irregularly, dimming with a crackling sound.

“NOOOOOOOOO! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Iwagane’s screams echoed through the dark underground space. But suddenly, they were cut off.

Silence.

No sound of something being dragged. No rustling of clothing. Not even breathing.

After that brief moment of quiet—

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The sound of cold, deliberate footsteps echoed in the narrow, dark passage. Slowly, step by step, they drew closer. Toward Mukomuu, who had collapsed to the ground, crying.

The rattling sound of Mukomuu’s chattering teeth echoed faintly. His whole body trembled. Cold. Freezing. A fear he had never felt before—not toward Iwagane, nor the organization—crept up his spine like an icy chill.

And then—

“Finally, we’re alone.”

A pale face emerged from the darkness.

Kiwi Alaya strolled leisurely toward him, holding Mukomuu’s fallen witch hat in one hand.

“The one being shipped here in crates to this hideout… the one making this… is you, isn’t it?”

Alaya pulled a vial filled with a blue liquid from his lab coat pocket—it was likely taken from Iwagane’s belongings. It was the new potion.

“Ah, I had a hunch at the research lab I infiltrated. When I saw you hastily packed up and leaving, I decided to follow. And it was worth it, because I’ve been wanting to have a nice, long… chat with you.”

With a cruel smile—resembling that of a demon or a devilish incubus sizing up its prey—Alaya placed the witch hat back on Mukomuu’s head. He extended his slender hand toward him.

“Now, come. This way.”

What a diabolical choice.

If Mukomuu betrayed the organization, he and his family would undoubtedly be targeted for execution.

But if he didn’t take Alaya’s hand…

…something far worse than execution awaited him. Of that, there was no doubt.

“Y-yes…”

There was never a choice to begin with.

Tears brimming in his eyes, Mukomuu reached out his trembling hand and placed it in Alaya’s outstretched palm.