The Successor to the Underworld Is a Cheat Player

Boom!

The Dark Orc Commander met the same fate as his Glave.

It was the moment when Sein’s first mission in Rasiel finally came to an end.

And Sein could see it.

Woosh!

The fragments of blessing rising in the place where the Commander had been.

As if it were natural, the fragments of blessing were drawn towards Sein, who reached out his hand.

At that moment.

“Long time no see.”

Sein found himself in a completely different space.

It has been a while.

“Jumadeng.”

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From Noble mtl dot com

*

He had gained quite a lot.

Experience points obtained through hunting Dark Orcs.

Blessings earned by hunting the boss monster of the Dark Zone.

“I’ll need to gather a lot more.”

Sein felt like he was different from the other candidates.

It seemed that blessings could slowly awaken with just a fragment and strengthen by gathering different blessings.

“I think one needs to be completed.”

It seemed like he had to gather numerous fragments to properly use the blessing, perhaps due to the many powers he possessed or his unique existence.

That was about the extent of his knowledge on blessings.

Also, for the first time since acquiring Bastion, Sein unleashed his power without setting limits.

In return, he not only familiarized himself with some forgotten skills but also became quite adept at using them.

“Jumadeng.”

And Jumadeng.

The newly opened special mission there.

He inherited some of his past stats and was further awakened to a special power that could not be imitated by the use of magic.

‘As expected, it’s the main quest.’

Rasiel, the quest of Demorus, was a main quest that penetrated his entire life.

Therefore, he felt that what he gained during that process had to be exceptional.

“Um, excuse me.”

“Hm? What is it?”

Approaching was a candidate.

A boy who seemed to have neither wealth nor status.

“Thank you.”

He handed over a potion, expressing his gratitude.

It wasn’t just him.

Swish.

The looks and expressions directed toward Sein.

It wasn’t the hostility Rasiel had seen in his garden, but gratitude.

And…

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have survived. I sincerely thank you.”

Feelings of admiration and reverence.

“The genre is strange.”

Sein chuckled, addressing the boys.

“Wasn’t this genre supposed to be noir?”

“…?”

“Why are you babbling like you’re in some academy film?”

Though they seemed clueless about English, the candidates were cautious in response, considering Sein’s words.

Sein, without further concern, walked away.

Finally, it started to appear.

The city they had left, Vise.

They arrived at the city’s entrance.

“…What are you guys?”

The guards frowned at the candidates who looked like beggars.

At first glance, they seemed like slaves fleeing from an attacked village.

“Was there something nearby?”

Perplexed, the guards blocked the candidates.

Some of the guards seemed observant.

Startled, the candidates’ gazes.

It was fortunate that they refrained from speaking in those eerie eyes that had recently ended a massacre.

“…Step aside.”

“What…?”

Noticing late, some guards, now pensive, stopped the others.

“You are the candidates!”

It was the return of Demorus’s candidates.

The cheap melody echoed.

Gulp, gulp.

They might be high-end, but the taste left much to be desired.

“Kya! I’ll kill you!”

Yet, the smiles were abundant on the candidates’ faces.

It was after a brutal, relentless battle had concluded.

“Ha, clearing out Dark Orc Stronghold in just one day. Truly, candidates of Demorus.”

A party hosted by the Roland Family, the Lord of Vice.

The night before, a party had taken place, but everything was different now.

It was a celebration not for those departing for battle, but for those returning victorious.

“Bring more drinks!”

“Bring the finest!”

It was a lively party filled with even greater joy and cheers.

Candidates who hadn’t participated on the first day were now passing around glasses with enthusiasm.

Wrapped in bandages, sipping on a glass of alcohol, a potion, they couldn’t hide their joy.

“This taste.”

A greater happiness earned at the cost of postponing the happiness of a day.

But where there are winners, there are also losers.

“….”

Those who had fallen asleep at the first day’s party now looked at the returning candidates who had cleared the stronghold, contemplating their emotions.

Their achievements shone brightly, while what they had achieved seemed different.

Even the rewards they were receiving now would be different, and what they would face upon returning to Rasiel would also be different.

Sensing that, their dark expressions prevented them from even touching their glasses, unlike the night before.

“By the way, where are the Kindra fellows?”

Some belatedly noticed the absence of Kindra and a few other candidates.

“Probably lost, not knowing the stronghold’s location. Idiots.”

“They’ll be shocked when they return.”

Most were celebrating victories against other competitors.

Swish.

A few, including the group with Sys, subtly turned their heads.

Their gaze landed on Sain.

Perhaps.

“The Kindra fellows might not come back.”

They might have met their end.

“Huh? Why?”

“Don’t know. Maybe killed by the Dark Orcs.”

“Idiots. Should’ve known to stay in line.”

“…It might not be the wrong thing to say.”

Among all those reactions, Sain was alone, swaying his glass of liquor.

“Disgustingly tasteless.”

It might be better than Chichiron’s cheap liquor, but that’s about it.

For Sain, who used to indulge in food and drink worth thousands of gold in the past, the party chief’s food was nothing special.

“I heard Sain Demorus is a great hero.”

Even Vice’s beauties didn’t catch his eye.

It was a place he wouldn’t have normally bothered attending.

“It’s good to enjoy things a little.”

One of the candidates, who had fought alongside Dark Orcs, approached Sain in a slightly tipsy state.

It seemed like he spoke with some courage.

“Do you think so?”

Sain’s response was a cold sneer.

“…Sorry.”

“No, I mean it.”

The candidate, who seemed intimidated after witnessing Sain’s combat skills, stepped back.

But Sain, with an even broader smile, spoke up.

A place he didn’t need to be at.

There was a reason he chose to be here.

Swooosh.

He glanced around at the candidates.

“I’ve figured out about three of them.”

Sain’s voice, mysterious and unreadable.

‘I thought the genre was wrong.’

He was bewildered by the warmth of the candidates competing for the boss position in the Dark City.

But now, being at this party, he felt like he understood.

“Indeed, it’s a noir.”

The food and drink prepared for the party.

“…Huh?”

“Gack!”

Was the genre horror?

It was poisoned.

“Gack.”

With a gasp that choked the breath out of them.

Thud.

The candidates started collapsing one by one.

Even those candidates who belatedly realized the situation tried to muster their magic, but it was futile.

Neutralizing poison with magic was quite an advanced skill, even for novices who couldn’t properly use their own powers.

Shiver.

It must have been too much to handle.

Eyes widening, candidates collapsing.

“….”

The music in the hall instantly ceased, leaving only a dense silence to settle.

“Resisting is futile.”

A voice echoed.

Sigh.

A purple haze enveloped the party hall.

These cunning individuals not only poisoned the food, but also sprinkled poison around the venue.

“There’s nowhere to escape.”

Those who resisted still eyed the owner of the voice.

“You….”

The outcome was obvious.

The host of the party.

No, the hosts.

“You need not worry. We have no intention of taking lives.”

Roland, the head of the Roland Family.

And Ode, the Lord of Vice.

“We simply… are considering making a promise to each of you.”

I pondered if the genre was wrong looking at the warm appearance of the candidates.

But could that be possible?

To be in a noir set against a backdrop of the underworld.

“In the future, one of you could become the owner of Demorus. Even if not, you might secure a significant position in Demorus.”

Those who were entranced since last night’s party.

Those who were injured and exhausted from the Dark Orc raid.

They had no chance against the prepared poison.

“Or else….”

Ode, with a sinister smile, pulled someone along.

“What if we all support the candidate, Cephea?”

Cephea, one of the candidates for Demorus, an unmatched fellow.

The one who hadn’t participated in the Dark Orc raid was already nodding dazedly at Ode’s touch since yesterday, as if addicted.

This was their purpose.

“To promise future gains to Demorus’s blood, or to support the candidate they put forward.”

When the candidates were at their most vulnerable, extending a helping hand, those still lacking would find it too much to bear.

“…Daring.”

Someone spoke up.

“Do you think you can get away with this… after doing something like this…!”

One of the candidates.

“Demiurus…!”

“You still don’t know anything.”

Ode clapped his hands and spoke.

“Everyone.”

Ode’s gaze scanned the room.

“This is also a candidate test.”

Ode, convinced that all the candidates had already been poisoned, had a different tone and voice.

“No one takes responsibility for accidents during the candidate test. Do you think you’ve truly gained recognition from Demiurus?”

With those words, Ode swung his fist.

Thwack!

His erected puppet, Cephea, staggered weakly from Ode’s blow.

“These fools who aim for Demiurus’ inheritance fall into such traps. Demiurus won’t even bother.”

It was also a test.

Realization dawned on the faces of the candidates.

They had power they couldn’t use, and the names that once instilled confidence in them were now worthless.

Having walked the path of candidates, albeit with the help of sponsors, those who arrived by luck faced tests from which survival was impossible.

“So, you idiots. I will make you valuable humans, mark my words.”

Ode smiled with a confident look of victory.

*

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All the candidates writhed on the floor in agonizing pain from the poison.

Not fatal enough for immediate death, but the agony of magic dispersing and muscles stiffening was sheer terror.

“Confirm and proceed with the contract.”

Ode didn’t suspect that all the candidates had been poisoned, but Roland wasn’t like that.

He knew more about Demiurus than Ode did.

“Yes, sir.”

In case of unexpected events, he carefully examined each candidate.

Candidates locking eyes with him.

Snick.

One of them smirked.

Sein Demiurus.

Not like others, he had consumed alcohol and food.

The spreading poison didn’t stop entering his nose and mouth.

But Sein already knew all of this.

‘Because it’s worth it.’

He had trained to build immunity to poison since Chichiron.

He had prepared for the difference between games and reality in case of unforeseen events.