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One might wonder what kind of benefits could exist in such a decrepit, rundown city, but there was a certain allure—a taste of sweet rewards that lingered in the air.

Evil, long accumulated, naturally called forth gold and desire.

A pleasure district overflowing with alcohol and drugs, women and violence—a primal city where only instinct thrived.

Countless individuals threw themselves into this city, driven by their desires.

It was a fight where the only alternative to gaining everything was death. In this wilderness, two factions emerged as the final survivors.

The “Sewer Rats,” who grew powerful through the drug trade, and “Crescent Moon,” who thrived on handling secret information, were the two dominant forces.

They each survived by eliminating their rivals through their own methods. Naturally, those who grew this powerful had no reason to leave each other alone.

For a long time, these two titans tore at each other. It was a prolonged battle where the balance of power shifted back and forth, sometimes turning into a cold war-like stalemate.

The reason this old conflict is now spoken of as a thing of the past is simple: the recent strife between the two factions had essentially come to an end.

Even the tavern owner didn’t seem to know the full details. He only mentioned that at some point, the tide turned sharply.

A monster-like figure had appeared, and thanks to him, the Sewer Rats had essentially taken control of Requitas.

Now, the Crescent Moon was little more than a ragtag group of survivors.

‘Ha. Take over the city with those trash? I don’t know who this guy is, but I’d like to see his face at least once.’

The Sewer Rats. Drug addicts high on Mulett flowers. The stench of blood and water that came from their side effects was likened to the smell of sewage, which is how they earned their derogatory name.

To the public, “Sewer Rats” referred to such depraved lives—people who sold their souls for a fleeting pleasure, trading their freedom for an addiction so strong that they became slaves to it.

Without their drugs, they were no better than corpses, utterly incapable of getting involved in the city’s power struggles.

Yet, in this city of sin, the term “Sewer Rats” was used in a broader sense. It encompassed everyone, from those who made and sold drugs to the dealers who sometimes even sold the addicts as goods, and the higher-ups who reaped all the profits from behind the scenes.

In a way, the derogatory term had become the name of the organization itself. Sirien and I had made all those Sewer Rats our enemies.

‘I’ve got a debt to settle with those Sewer Rats.’

On the day Terion died and Hena set out on her long journey, our first enemies were those Sewer Rats.

We recognized them by that distinct stench of blood and water, knowing they had come to kill us.

The Sewer Rats were the most direct enemies of Terion and Hena.

And that wasn’t all.

Even though Edwin had killed him, we still had a debt with the pursuer who had chased us. Crooks, the tracker, had been paid by the Sewer Rats. This meant that the ones who worked alongside him in the same place were still alive.

Even though those scum were now corpses, our resentment hadn’t disappeared.

It was too deep a pain to swallow. The memory of that day remained in our hearts like a thorn that hadn’t yet been pulled out.

Even now, just touching that thorn made my chest ache as if it were freezing.

Especially when I thought of Terion and Hena, it felt like something inside me was being sliced open by a knife.

This was a pain that only Sirien and I shared in this world.

There might be a way to avoid aggravating the thorn. If I don’t think about them, it won’t hurt. Perhaps that’s one way to live. But we decided to boldly pull the thorn out.

- You know, my employer said something interesting. He told me to erase you from this world.

- But here’s the thing, there were no instructions to kill you gently.

- I’ve heard the young lady is quite beautiful.

The voice, vivid in my memory, seemed to echo in my ears. The words were worthless, but there was something that stuck with me.

The phrase “erase you from this world.”

Luckily, we weren’t erased. So now, isn’t it time for us to erase them from this world?

A turquoise cocktail slid down my throat.

‘It’s definitely not a flavor Sirien would like.’

I had expected a bit more from a cocktail, but it wasn’t particularly tasty. It lacked the sweetness that Sirien might have enjoyed, tasting instead like a mixture of strong liquors.

The pungent scent of alcohol stung my nose, with no trace of any fruity, aged, or woody notes.

Drinking something like this would surely have me bedridden the entire next day.

There was probably a reason why the drink was named “Tears of Tomorrow.” In the end, I didn’t finish the drink. But it didn’t matter, since the drink wasn’t my goal anyway.

“Thanks for the valuable information. Is this enough for payment?”

“It’s more than enough. I’ll put it to good use.”

Having heard everything we needed, there was no reason to stay in the tavern any longer.

Silence saw us off as we left the establishment.

On the way out, I caught a glimpse of the owner. He was cleaning up the three corpses that Sirien and I had created.

I had killed one, and Sirien had killed two. At least in that tavern, there wasn’t anyone who could recognize the power of Hibras.

To the untrained eye, it must have looked like we killed them without even lifting a finger. There are plenty of skilled swordsmen, but not many could deliver such a death. The unknown would surely become fertile ground for fear to grow.

‘Come to think of it, Sirien seemed a bit upset about the drink earlier.’

I should probably buy a snack for her on the way. It looked like she wasn’t completely over it yet.

As our mercenary life went on, Sirien had grown accustomed to eating all sorts of things. In fact, even back at the cabin, she was less picky about food than Terion. However, it didn’t mean she had lowered her standards.

Just like in the Forgotten Forest, Sirien’s senses were sharp. Even though my physical abilities had improved drastically since becoming a Swordmaster, I still couldn’t surpass Sirien in terms of sensory perception.

That’s why, even when we moved through battlefields, it was always Sirien who conducted the searches relying on her keen senses.

Though, with the divine power now dwelling in her, she couldn’t really be called an ordinary person anymore.

Sirien’s misfortune was that her blessed senses extended even to her taste buds. So when I say Sirien had become a better eater, it was really not much different from saying she had learned to endure unpleasant meals.

The only exceptions were foods with sweetness, fruits, or vegetables.

She seemed to do well with foods that were close to their original state. Up until recently, fruit wine was included in that list, but after a recent incident, she had been forbidden from drinking alcohol. And I had no intention of giving her any more alcohol in the future.

“I noticed they were selling something like fruit soaked in honey outside earlier. Do you want to try that?”

“No.”

“Alright, then let’s… huh?”

“I saw it too, but I’m not eating it. That wasn’t honey. They mixed in something weird, and the smell was awful.”

Sirien waved her hand near her nose. Even though I couldn’t see inside the face mask she was wearing, I could almost feel her grimace.

If Sirien refused something sweet, it meant it was truly inedible.

I had considered stealing a bite if she bought it, but it was a relief I didn’t.

“Is the smell here bothering you much?”

“It’s better than before. Over there, the stench was so strong it felt like my nose was going numb. The back alleys were especially bad.”

“Specifically?”

“The ground reeks of neglected sewage, and the people smell like a mix of sweat and alcohol. In the back alleys, there’s the scent of blood and old corpse rot. Oh, and I heard a scream just now, though that’s not a smell.”

“I hear it too. Three men, no, make that two men and one woman, right?”

There was a small scuffle going on in a nearby alley. It was likely two or three alleys away from where we stood.

In a lawless zone like this, just being a woman made you prey. As pitiful as the situation might be, we weren’t obliged to help. Besides, judging by the fact that the men screamed first, it seemed the woman could hold her own.

Since arriving in Requitas, we’d witnessed such fights more than once. If we tried to intervene in every brawl here, ten bodies wouldn’t be enough. It was wiser to mind our own business and focus on our own survival.

“Should we find an inn in advance? It’d be better than sleeping rough. I’ve heard there are some decent places if we go deeper into the city.”

“Let’s go. I’d prefer to sleep in a bed and take a bath.”

So, originally, we had no intention of getting involved. The plan was to find a suitable inn and start our real work tomorrow.

There was no reason to interfere in a fight between strangers whose faces and names we didn’t even know.

That was until the men involved said something we couldn’t ignore.

- We’re both tired, so why don’t we just call it quits? It was hard enough finding you anyway. You’re all going to die soon enough. Rumor has it your father ran away too.

- Who knows? Maybe the boss will take a liking to you and keep you as a pet in the Paper House.

- We get paid, and you get to be our boss’s little pet. Everyone wins.

Paper House.

That was the nickname for Crescent Moon, the group that sold information.

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