Chapter 123
HEL SCANS
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The exploration of Harlem took longer than expected.
Tsutsutsutsu-
The sixth illusion was ending.
The man who had been the target still stared at the Hero with a vacant expression.
It was because the Hero had not yet reaped the power of the monma.
‘Is it over with this guy?’
The first organization he subdued.
After finding clues about another organization in the memories of that boss, the Hero immediately pursued it.
Suppression – interrogation – tracking.
After repeated actions, he realized that the organization cooperating with the Demonic Church numbered as many as six.
And this man was the leader of the sixth organization.
‘…Such a thorough underground organization.’
They did not know each other’s existence.
They just fit together like parts of a machine, each performing their own function.
The first organization was a branch responsible for suppressing and kidnapping demi-humans.
The next organization consisted of individuals who approached demi-humans, built friendships, and lured them into traps.
The following organization provided the necessary drugs and goods in that process.
It was a well-organized division of labor.
And the ones he had just annihilated were the organization members responsible for ‘extraction and delivery,’ the core of delivering demi-humans directly to the Demonic Church.
‘Thanks to them, I was able to see the most clues from the illusions of the Dream.’
Demi-humans trapped within us.
Carriages carrying them, moving.
An isolated forest.
A man wearing a skull mask welcoming with open arms.
Even the symbol of the Demonic Church clearly drawn on the back of his hand.
A series of images quickly flashed through his mind… and they were definitely imprinted.
Enough puzzle pieces had come together to see the overall picture.
The completion would continue with the forthcoming statement.
The Hero’s gaze fell on the man who was swaying his body back and forth in a dazed manner.
“Answer me without a hint of falsehood.”
“…Understood.”
The secrecy spells had already been dispelled.
With the power of the monma in effect, falsehoods could never interfere.
“You handed over the demi-humans coming to Harlem to the Demonic Church. Was it for a sacrificial ritual?”
“That’s right.”
A slow nod.
“Why specifically demi-humans?”
“…It’s simple.”
A brief explanation followed.
There is no harm even if you touch them.
Few would look for them even if their neighboring demi-humans disappeared from their house.
Most would assume they had returned to their hometown and wouldn’t bother searching.
There were various reasons why demi-humans migrated to the land of humans.
The harsh environment of their homeland was one reason.
Curiosity about human life was another.
…But the main reason was their ‘weakness.’
Many tribes of demi-humans followed the logic of the strong.
Individuals born weak couldn’t adapt to such a culture and tended to choose to integrate into human society instead.
Among them, the lucky ones met good humans and successfully settled in human society.
But if luck was not on their side…
‘To meet such a bastard.’
Since they left the tribe, they were strangers everywhere, making it difficult for them to be protected.
The man continued his statement.
“The higher-ups had everything planned out. What could be difficult?”
The ringleader was, of course, Enoch.
The dream droplets spread throughout Harlem.
He arranged the organizations that became hosts for the Church, providing massive support for the supply of demi-humans.
The Hero calmly asked the next question.
The only unanswered question remaining.
“Is the ‘factory’ in that forest? Tell me everything you know about the factory. Where it is, what it does.”
“The forest… Yes, it’s probably there.”
…Probably?
“I don’t know the exact location. Meeting that man was always done outside the forest. The forest is…”
He must be referring to the Demonic Church member with the skull mask.
The Hero noted down the name of the forest.
There was another factory besides that, and that one was quite distant from the capital.
“I’m not sure, but there seems to be another factory in the north. Kanis’s friend delivers to a different place. We’re the only ones here.”
The man willingly shared everything he knew about the ‘factory.’
However, what followed was shocking, in stark contrast to his monotone delivery.
“As for what the factory does… Well, breeding and giving birth.”
“……”
“A kind of breeding ground? Depending on the species, it could be a hatchery. Those Demonic Church guys… seemed to want self-sufficiency.”
He continued rambling.
“If you offer the most pure soul of a newborn demi-human, you can produce a lot of demonic energy.”
That was as much information as he could obtain.
The Hero’s jaw slowly clenched at the shocking revelation.
Tsutsutsutsu-
The power of the monma was also withdrawn.
“Hu, huk!”
Simultaneously, life returned to the man’s eyes.
He immediately backed away, kneeling on the ground.
Remembering what he had said, the color drained from his face.
‘This guy, what the hell…?’
He used the power of the dream illusion.
If so, he must be on the same side.
But then why did he invade the hideout and kill all the organization members?
‘Shit! Is he trying to cut off the tail?’
But the questions he asked were too suspicious for that.
‘Damn! What the hell!’
Jebuk-
The Hero approached the trembling man against the wall.
And he asked the final question.
“I met the organization members who took charge of the kidnappings. They handed over the demi-humans they captured a few hours ago to you. Where are they?”
“A, they left for the forest just a while ago. They asked us to hurry and bring them! What can we do?”
…A pathetic smile.
The Hero took another step forward.
As the distance closed, the man reached out his hands defensively, desperately shouting.
“W-why are you doing this between fellow humans!”
“Fellow humans?”
“Are you angry because I earned some pocket money from selling demi-humans? I didn’t touch any humans! There’s that crazy nun; do you think I’d do such things in Harlem?”
The Hero stopped abruptly, as if persuasion had worked.
For a moment, a sense of relief flickered across the man’s face.
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However, he didn’t realize that the emotions the Hero had suppressed for efficient interrogation were slowly becoming uncontrollable.
Of course, now there was no need to hold back.
“H-Hey! W-wait a moment!”
Squish-
The giant greatsword split the man in half.
.
.
.
“Hu…”
The Hero, having retrieved the Black Hope, stood still for a moment.
The interior of the hideout was a mess.
But what his sinking gaze focused on was not bloodstains, scattered bodies, or broken valuable items.
It was the cramped space behind the wall.
Full of iron bars, iron tools, rusted dishes, and mold.
The unpleasant smell of despair lingered there.
Jebuk-
Staring at that space for a while, the Hero turned and climbed the stairs.
It was already morning.
The bright sunlight slowly seeped into the streets of Harlem.
As Barun and Nyhill, who had been waiting, rushed towards him, the Hero wiped his face.
“…It’s a good time to track.”
The bloodstains turned into fine particles after a quick wash with cold water.
However, he felt no fatigue at all.
* * *
In addition to the conspiracy of the Demonic Church and the whereabouts of the two factories, the Hero gained significant information.
From minor suppliers connected to the organization to the list of some corrupt guards, he obtained a variety of information.
“Monitor their movements and apprehend them at the right time.”
With these words, he handed the organized data to Nyhill and abruptly left.
Nyhill followed the Hero’s orders, contacting the intelligence division to summon members and collaborating with Barun to continue the investigation and clean-up.
Barun’s eyes narrowed as she observed the diligent girl.
“…From Harlem, right?”
Suddenly, Barun spoke, and Nyhill’s movements stopped.
Her black pupils stared piercingly at Barun’s wrinkled face.
As if signaling not to be cautious, Barun extended her hand.
“It’s not that surprising; people who know how the intelligence division recruits members are well aware.”
…Nyhill hesitated for a moment.
After the Hero ordered her full cooperation with Barun, he left.
Would the answer to such a question fall within the scope of ‘cooperation’?
After a moment of contemplation, Nyhill spoke.
“Yes, I was born here.”
“Seems like you joined the intelligence division at a young age.”
“…What?”
Since the moment Barun saw her entering the clinic with the Hero, she was surprised.
Honestly, she was astonished.
The Hero usually preferred to operate alone or with a small number of colleagues during missions.
‘How did this little girl earn that much trust.’
It must have satisfied the Hero’s strict standards, considering his discerning eyes.
Moreover, when Barun saw the dagger strapped to his waist, her curiosity grew even more.
A familiar touch emanated from the weapon.
‘A ghost who has even captured the eccentric blacksmith’s heart.’
Barun smiled awkwardly at Nyhill, who blinked uncomfortably.
Despite her attempt to ease the tension with a smile, the twitching of the sword hanging by her side did little to alleviate the wariness.
“Please understand. When you get older, you become curious about young people’s stories for no reason.”
“…”
“Can we take a break for a moment? My new robe is chafing.”
“Yes. I understand.”
In the shadow of the wall, Nyhill stood still.
Barun continued her thoughts while looking at Nyhill’s side profile.
Typically, the Shadows recruited very young children and trained them as members.
Even infants were acceptable.
Starting training before individual personalities and values took root was efficient.
In the past, she, who had directly introduced children suitable for the covert operatives, knew better than anyone.
…She judged that it would be better than begging on the streets.
Whether it was right or wrong was still a difficult judgment to make.
Chichik-
The remaining hourglass caught fire.
“Perhaps it might have passed by at some point.”
“It could be. I don’t know for sure.”
The conversation paused for a moment.
Meanwhile, Nyhill, too, cast a sidelong glance at Barun enveloped in the smoke of the hourglass.
…If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
Since hearing those words from the Hero, she had developed a rather bad habit.
After hesitating for a while, she finally opened her mouth.
“May I ask a question?”
“Ask away. Old people naturally prefer telling their own stories.”
Encouraged by the words that eased her discomfort, Nyhill asked what she had been curious about.
“Why are you not feeling well?”
“…Ah.”
Barun raised her eyebrows significantly.
…This time, she hit the bullseye.
‘Sharper than expected.’
Following Nyhill’s words, she was not in a good mood at the moment.
To be precise, it was very bad.
It was because of the demi-humans sold for the purpose of the sacrificial ritual.
“Hu…”
Although she had given her the freedom to ask questions, Nyhill only received smoke instead of an answer.
Her goal was to save everyone.
That was an exaggeration and a delusion.
During her long stay in Harlem, she had learned a valuable lesson.
Of course, she had considerable influence in this place.
But there was no power to stop all the inhuman atrocities happening in this vast space.
‘You just have to do your best within the possible range.’
Living with that lesson in mind, she had gradually distinguished between what to protect and what not to.
And like the majority of people in the world, she acted according to those guidelines.
…Yes.
The residents of Harlem, whom she had connected with over the years, were what she had to protect.
The demi-humans in Harlem were not.
Of course, she didn’t think it was wrong.
There were limits to human abilities, and focusing on certain aspects was essential to maximize utility.
But facing the results, she couldn’t help but feel bitter.
‘…The Saint of the Lowest.’
The ironic title bestowed upon her by the actions of penance was truly amusing.
With such thoughts, Barun sprinkled water on the fire and looked at Nyhill with a tired expression.
Then, with a gaze filled with resignation, she spoke to Nyhill, who was staring back.
“Hey. You should keep an eye on the Hero.”
Nyhill, puzzled by the sudden remark, nodded vigorously.
“Well then, let’s get back to work.”
“Yes.”
Barun stood up, supporting her aching knees with her hands.
As she did, she remembered the Hero’s broad back, tirelessly running through the dark alleys of Harlem all night.
The Hero, Ted Redymer.
Unlike ordinary humans, he was someone who hardly gained any lessons.
And that was the reason Barun respected him.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, at that moment, the Hero was leaving the organization and heading alone towards the nearby forest.
After interrogating the boss of the last organization, he obtained rough information about the locations of the ‘factories.’
‘I need to thoroughly search the vicinity to pinpoint their exact locations.’
Under the Demonic Church, all cooperating factions had been dismantled.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the demi-humans had been handed over unharmed.
Although they might not realize it immediately, discovering this fact was only a matter of time.
However, he couldn’t afford to mobilize a large number of personnel for location searches.
‘I have to move quickly and discreetly.’
That’s why he had left Nyhill behind and hurried here.
The location where the factories were established was quite distant on foot, but that wasn’t a concern for him.
The Hero began drawing a non-human figure for the first time in a long while.
…
Kkirururu-
At that moment, the Hero was approaching the edge of the forest, ready to delve into the area.
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