The Successor to the Underworld Is a Cheat Player

Upon hearing the rumors, they had thought of Sein as a tyrant not unlike an ogre, but he seemed surprisingly flexible.

“You only get used to being hit by a mace by getting hit. So, from now on, you should only suffer that much damage.”

“… Pardon?”

“Make sure you pay your dues properly.”

“…!”

The merchants realized their mistake only then.

“And here’s my right-hand man, Deren. He will tell you about certain goods, so if you find them, bring them to me first. I’ll cover the costs.”

The presence in front of them was more terrifying than the tyrant Ougre.

“The mad dog of Chichiron.”

It was a realization that a mad dog had become the master of the city.

“Understood.”

At that moment, a young merchant stepped forward and spoke.

“If you wish, could you let us know first? We will do our best to procure the items desired by the hero of Borfeo.”

Sain looked at the young merchant.

“What’s your name and affiliation?”

“I’m Aya. I manage the upper floors of a small shop.”

“You’re hired.”

Sain approached Aya and said,

“You’ll receive special treatment.”

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“Aya, was it?”

He was quite something.

These back alley merchants were nothing but thugs or worthless scum.

Trash that sucked people’s blood as much as the garbage in the back alleys.

Selling low-quality goods by force or setting traps.

“I don’t know how they survive.”

Borfeo became his territory.

He had no need for such useless trash in his territory.

But Aya was different.

“Understood.”

He understood the meaning behind his words.

To show his abilities.

To see if he could bring the desired items.

To understand his value.

The only one who could be called a true merchant was Aya.

“This way.”

Sain was walking down the street with Hans and a few of his subordinates.

“Ah!”

“S-sorry!”

The residents who came across Sain were surprised and ran away, or bowed their heads in apology.

“Too much. We haven’t done anything.”

“It’s because of Ougre.”

Though Ougre gave off a vibe of not being a bad guy.

“He ordered the residents to be sacrificed.”

He had ordered the kidnapping of the residents of the back alleys.

Child, old man, man, woman, no exceptions.

“There must be a reason.”

That is the reason.

“He even knows how to strengthen iron armor.”

Iron armor, and crimson iron armor.

To enhance that ability.

Ironcladding imbues iron with magical properties, making it possess the qualities of iron.

However, to reach the level of crimson iron armor, something essential was needed.

“Blood.”

The crimson glow is not the color of any gemstone.

It is the deep crimson of human blood.

This method was discovered by a user, overturning the common sense of the Schutieri, who originally thought that hunting monsters naturally led to crimson iron armor, like a revolution.

The condition for crimson iron armor was blood.

The Schutieri, with infinite freedom, was truly another world where anything was possible.

“Babvik. That woman was the same, Lana.”

“B… Babvik, you say?”

At that moment, Hans trembled and said, “Correct?”

“The Warrior of Slaughter, Babvik… that’s what you’re talking about, right?”

The Warrior of Slaughter.

“Indeed, that side seems to be the same.”

Whether Hans didn’t hear Sein’s muttering or not, he shivered for a long time, talking about various things.

How terrifying Babvik was, how many she had killed, and so on.

“Quiet.”

But with Sein’s one word, Hans soon closed his mouth.

The back alleys of Borfeo were wide, like a city.

Was it said to be a world similar in size to Earth?

There was a memory of once wanting to travel Schutieri slowly but not being able to.

“Here we are.”

In the midst of being lost in thought, Sein’s group arrived at their destination.

A shabby, dilapidated building.

It wouldn’t be surprising if it collapsed at any moment, more like a place where ghosts lived than people.

“The House of Ghosts, isn’t it?”

It was believable that ghosts lived here.

“This is the place.”

However, this was the destination.

“Where Borfeo’s finest blacksmith resides.”

“This is where Borfeo’s finest blacksmith resides.”

Hans said enthusiastically, as if revealing a great secret.

The price for that was paid immediately.

Thwack!

Hans received a blow to the back of his head.

“Captain, my, my last remaining eye will be gouged out! Why are you doing this!”

He did as Sein wanted, so what was the problem exactly?

“Did you perhaps forget the Continental language?”

“Yes?”

“When did I ask to be taken to the best blacksmith in Borfeo?”

“Clearly…”

Hans tried to explain, but seeing Sein’s distorted face, he fell silent.

“I said to take me to the best blacksmith, didn’t I.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Hah.”

Who could he blame?

He only asked Hans, who couldn’t even guide properly, about his own mistake.

“Well, whatever it is.”

If there’s a top blacksmith, there will surely be excellent tools and ores.

The issue is.

“But is this really the place?”

The building in front of them seemed on the verge of collapsing any moment.

“Are there hidden facilities inside, or maybe a disguise to hide a great blacksmith?”

“It’s not that…”

That was when it happened.

Squeak.

The sound of a door opening quietly.

Crash!

Sein swiftly deflected something flying towards them.

It was clearly a bolt shot from a crossbow.

“Get lost!”

Something glinted through the open window.

‘A repeating crossbow.’

The head of the crossbow, capable of shooting multiple bolts, was protruding through the window.

“Risky.”

It wasn’t aiming for a vital spot, but it was definitely an arrow aimed at the body.

“You old fool! Are you insane!”

Terrified, Hans shouted.

“I must have told you not to come back! The only thing I have for the likes of you is this arrow!”

Twang!

Another arrow shot past Sein’s head, grazing Hans as it headed towards him.

Startled, Hans twisted his body to dodge it, but a slight graze on his arm was inevitable.

“The old man with a bad temper.”

The gentleman spoke as if it were absurd.

“I must have told you to leave! The warning…!”

At that moment.

In a flash!

Something emitted light from the gentleman’s hand.

Boom!

Simultaneously, a deafening explosion.

Firing the dagger containing the aura, he shattered the artisan’s crossbow.

From Noble mtl dot com

“What the…!”

Even as the artisan was momentarily taken aback, the gentleman, seemingly unconcerned, walked out and stood in front of the blacksmith’s shop.

Crash!

With a kick, the blacksmith’s shop door shattered and fell.

Casually entering the blacksmith’s shop, the gentleman.

Swoosh.

He looked around, turning his head.

Due to the dim light not penetrating well, the eerie light shimmered all around in the dark blacksmith’s shop.

“They say the owner of the alley has changed! What a lunatic he was!”

In a corner of the blacksmith’s shop, the crouching artisan shouted.

“Don’t move. Take one step and…”

Thud.

The weapons filled the blacksmith’s shop.

Traps intertwined with spears, swords, arrows, and the like.

“Quite convincing.”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Old man.”

The artisan, who was shouting at the sound of the gentleman’s hoarse voice, fell silent.

It was the chill that could hardly be withstood by an old body.

‘What the hell…’

He had faced the vigor of many madmen while handling weapons.

But what he felt from the gentleman now was a different kind of fear, almost like a different species altogether.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t ask you to make weapons for me.”

The gentleman quietly stepped away.

“Oh, no!”

It was the moment the artisan shouted.

Boom! Boom!

The traps set by the artisan spewed fire in an instant.

*

“What….”

The master couldn’t close his mouth as if he had seen a ghost.

“Indeed, the talk of Borfeo’s finest blacksmith seems not to be a lie.”

The gentleman casually looked around the forge.

He effortlessly avoided the trap set by the master.

His movements, bordering on miraculous, were so remarkable and mysterious that they were unheard of in Borfeo.

“There’s even a bit of moonstone.”

But the reason the master was truly astonished was not that he had evaded the trap.

It was actually meant to scare off intruders rather than kill them.

What truly surprised the master was.

“Old man. You don’t happen to have hidden something like mithril, do you?”

The fact that the gentleman had dismantled the trap.

With a movement bordering on miraculous, he casually touched the intricate machinery he had created.

Literally casually.

And then, all the devices came to a halt.

“How, how did you….”

The master asked as if he had seen a ghost.

“What? The trap?”

The gentleman, examining a piece of ore, turned to look at the master.

“It’s simple. I just slightly shook the central part of the device. Still, it seems like something painstakingly made, so I felt bad about destroying it completely.”

“…!”

Easier said than done.

What the gentleman said meant that he had understood the internal circuitry of the machine he had designed and built just by seeing it once in this dark space.

Furthermore, he skillfully shook the central part, which was securely protected, to bring it to a perfect stop.

“You’re really….”

The master, Aaron, smiled as if disappointed.

He had seen many people in the alleys of Borfeo, but someone like the gentleman was a first.

“But, it’s still useless!”

Aaron, regaining his composure, said.

“I don’t have any weapons to offer in these alleys!”

That was the oath of Aaron, the blacksmith of Borfeo.

‘Never again.’

It was his own vow not to hand over the weapons he had made in the alleys.

That’s why Aaron, once known as the best blacksmith in Borfeo, was now living in this shabby workshop instead of being a master blacksmith.

However.

“Was this made by Inspiration?”

The gentleman didn’t listen.

The dagger in the gentleman’s hand.

“D-Did you not hear me?”

“You’ve made it quite well. The seams are excellent, and the forging is well done.”

“…!”

“But it’s a failure.”

“H-how could that be!”

Aaron was once again astonished.

Among the ruffians in the alley and the quite successful merchants, there was a dagger that praised fairly well.

“I understand what you were trying to do, but your approach was wrong.”

Aaron felt as if possessed by a ghost.

“And inspiration.”

Suddenly, the blacksmith picked up a hammer.

As he put coal into the furnace, he said, “Who told you to make weapons?”

“W-well?”

“Let’s borrow the forge.”

Crackle!

Flames began to rise in the forge that had been dormant.

“Because you seem to be a decent blacksmith, I’ll let it slide.”

Boom!

Sparks started to fly.

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