Chapter 70. This World Must Be Saved (3)

"I-I have no intention of dying today!"

The man trembled, and I could hear his faint sobs. My intimidation seemed to be working. Not that it mattered if it didn't. I could kill him and simply discard him like trash without a second thought.

The man pleaded again, "Please spare me!"

He was likely an overseer of the Necron Order. By chance, I had impersonated one of their own, which meant there was a small thread of connection between us.

I looked down at the man once more. Through the gap in his open jacket, I could see some peculiar items still strapped to him.

I asked, "Are those bombs?"

He answered, "Y-yes! They are! If you press here..."

"Don't move."

"O-of course!"

Messing around with unfamiliar devices was reckless, and I intended to leave such tasks to experts. Unfortunately, the expert I knew was far away.

"To be clear, I wasn't waiting for you."

"Y-yes! My apologies!"

That was the truth. I had intended to return to the orphanage.

"I knew you were coming, but I didn't think it was worth waiting."

Under the moonlight, I caught a flicker of fear in his face.

Who does he think I am right now?

His glasses had been shattered into pieces, and the broken lenses lay scattered on the ground. I felt no obligation to hand them back or fix his vision aid. I left them as they were and decided to ask him questions.

"Are you an overseer of Necron?"

The man flinched, curling his body like a shrimp. His reaction seemed akin to a survival reflex.

The man answered, "Y-yes, I am!"

"Why are you here?"

"To oversee the collection and sale of bloodstones! The organization... is desperately trying to raise funds right now!"

"Good answer."

"Th-thank you!"

"And why are you answering so honestly?"

The man responded desperately, "B-because... because I think you might let me live!"

He was sharp, and he had correctly read my intentions. If he cooperated, I planned to let him go. His ability to quickly read the situation reminded me of Rena's perceptiveness.

I had no desire to kill him. Taking a handful of salt from the sea wouldn't make the ocean any less salty. In this world, even the clearest water would turn to brine—or worse, blood-soaked salt.

"And?" I asked.

Interacting with an intuitive conversation partner was convenient because I did not need to coerce or torture them. Simple prompts would suffice.

"The Emperor... the Emperor is preparing for war! Our organization is raising funds to support the war effort. The organization intends to invest in the war to secure its share."

"Are you the ones behind it?"

There was a possibility that the Necron Order was instigating the war.

The man shook his head vehemently. "N-no, that's not it! We're not behind the war! However, we do intend to acquire the slaves that the war will produce."

He explained various facts about the slave trade with surprising honesty.

I asked, "Where is the nearest branch?"

"The n-nearest branch... it's in Erast! The lord there..."

Most of what he shared beyond that was information I already knew.

I decided to end with one last question, and I asked it casually in passing. "Who's your leader?"

"T-that would be..."

At that moment, something on the man's neck began to move.

Is that... a tattoo?

The fine line started to thicken, forming into a worm. The worm grew longer and thicker, writhing as it did. I couldn't tell if it had just started moving or had been in motion for some time. Perhaps because of the blade at the man's neck, he seemed oblivious to the squirming on his skin.

Sssssh...

The worm on his neck began to take the shape of a snake.

"W-what is it?" the man stammered.

"..."

The snake turned into a picture on his neck. Though it occurred on a small surface, the sight rendered me speechless. The snake's head slowly grew, eventually covering half of his neck.

Sssssh...

Horns sprouted from the snake's head, and long fangs emerged. Only then did the man seem to notice something was wrong.

"

U-uhhh

... what is this?"

He frantically touched his neck, but no matter how much he twisted his head, he couldn't see what was happening. The snake evaded his grasp, its bizarre form becoming clearer. It had no eyes as they were buried beneath the skin. The snake, adorned only with horns and fangs, coiled tightly around the man's neck.

What had once been a faint black smudge transformed into a grotesque serpent.

The man groaned and clutched his neck, seemingly forgetting that I still had my blade pointed at him. "

H-hiii... h-heee

..."

I pulled my sword away, taking a step back to avoid killing him.

The man coughed violently, unable to exhale properly. "

K-ki... kihik!"

His tongue twisted and curled inward. "

K-ki... kiiiiik!

"

He writhed on the dirt floor, and the snake coiled around his neck, seemingly enjoying his suffering. Then, the snake moved its head.

A distinct

crunch

echoed as the snake sank its fangs into the man's skin. The night was silent save for the man's groans, but the crunching noise persisted. It seemed to emanate from beyond the thin veil of night.

"

K-khik!

"

The man's skin turned black as necrosis spread from his neck. His face darkened, and then he stopped moving entirely. His convulsing stopped, and his muscles were twisted in agony.

There was no way I could help him.

Ssssssh...

Black smoke began to pour from his mouth and nose. The snake tattoo on his neck stretched its mouth wide open, revealing jagged edges as if inhaling the smoke.

Rumble!

The snake shuddered violently, seemingly satisfied, and disappeared beyond the veil of night.

"..."

I stood there stunned, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

Rustle.

Above, a flying squirrel darted across a moonlit tree branch. The branch swayed, scattering the pale light resting upon it. Suddenly, I snapped back to my senses.

Click.

A chill ran down my spine, but I knew had to examine the corpse. Using the tip of my sword, I prodded and inspected it. I found an ID card emitting a faint red glow. Unlike the IDs of the crossbowmen or Pretcher's, this one had a peculiar circle drawn beneath the area where the face was illustrated.

I wondered what the circle meant. Moreover, I wanted to understand what had just happened. But the man I needed to question was already dead. It didn't seem like he had anticipated this outcome either—he had died clutching his neck, coughing in apparent shock.

I searched through the man's belongings. I didn't expect to find treasures, but I thought I might find a clue.

Clink!

I found a thick leather pouch in his possession. Inside, it was packed with silver coins. Further rummaging revealed a ledger for human trafficking transactions, but that was all. There was nothing else of significance except for bombs and similar items.

This should be enough.

Gathering what I deemed necessary, I returned to the orphanage.

By the time I arrived, dawn was breaking. I knocked on the door to the director's office.

Knock, knock.

A voice called from inside. "Come in!"

I opened the door and stepped in. The slime, Lime, was slowly rising from the bed.

Lime wanted to mimic all human behaviors, including speaking, gesturing, eating, and even sleeping. Of course, a slime didn't actually need to sleep. Lime pretended to be groggy, but he was clearly wide awake.

"The task is done," I said.

"Thank you. You've worked hard."

"That was too easy. Aren't you being a little overprotective?"

Lime spoke calmly as he brewed coffee. "Not at all. It wasn't easy to locate, and there were many humans to deal with. Besides... just witnessing such repulsive scenes must have been painful for you."

"Is that so?"

"Humans are disgusting and grotesque, aren't they?"

His sudden commentary caught me off guard. I was already numb to humanity's ugliness after seeing it countless times, especially in the goblin dungeon.

I commented, "You seem fond of human children, though."

"

Haha

, well, that's a bit complicated."

Lime scratched his head. Even his soft hair was a transformation of his green, gelatinous body. I recalled his earlier remark that he admired children because they could change within their limitations—an endearing quality.

Belated questions formed in my mind.

Why does it have to be human children? Why is he observing them?

My curiosity grew. His eyes—one red and the other green—shimmered in the morning light. Looking into them gave no clues about his thoughts.

I decided to voice my questions. "I'm curious about a few things..."

"

Ah

, my apologies. I seem to have added some unnecessary commentary. Please, go ahead."

"Unnecessary commentary?"

"About humans being disgusting. Please, share what's on your mind."

"Alright. Do you know anything about this phenomenon?"

I explained what had happened on my way back. Lime listened silently, then frowned slightly.

"It's magic," he said without hesitation, his answer firm and certain.

He seemed well-versed on the topic. "It's a spell designed to kill anyone who divulges secrets immediately. It activates through an implanted sigil."

"Then there's no way to extract information from them."

"It's a vile method of controlling members of an organization."

I wasn't particularly eager to dismantle the sigil or expose the Necron Order.

Lime's confident response piqued my interest, so I asked out of curiosity, "Is there a way to break it?"

"

Hmm

..."

Lime made a curious expression, lowering his eyebrows slightly and tapping his temple with a finger. He was mimicking a thinking human.

"I'm not sure. It likely depends on the caster's power. The issue lies with who engraved the sigil."

His emphasis on

who

felt deliberate.

Lime added, "If it's a spell tied to a being with unimaginable power, it's impossible to break.".

Then he shot me a faint smile, blinking his mismatched eyes.

"Do you know something?" I asked.

"Well, it's not the right time to say anything just yet..."

"..."

"

Ah

, you'll hear from Rena soon. I'll inform you as soon as she contacts us."

"Will it go well?"

"You're so considerate. She'll pass her capability test on her own. She's capable enough."

Lime then smiled kindly and changed the subject. "By the way, don't you think your armor needs repairs?"

"Well..."

I looked down at my armor. Though no arrows had penetrated it completely, several were embedded deep inside. I removed the armor and placed it on his desk.

"Then let's begin the repairs."

Gurgle.

A part of Lime's body melted in front of me, flowing into the holes in the armor. He selectively dissolved the arrow shafts and tips, ejecting them from the armor before sealing the gaps.

"..."

No matter how many times I witnessed it, I couldn't quite get used to the sight. I silently watched him work. Lime, as usual, continued nonchalantly.

Sssssh! Ssssh!

Lime's green hands became a writhing liquid that seeped into the armor's crevices, melting the metal seamlessly. He looked entirely unbothered, his expression serene.

He's strong.

This was not a being meant to stay confined here. While his kindness toward me was appreciated, the more I thought about it, the stranger his existence seemed.

Sssh!

The heated, melted armor regained its shape and cooled down, with all the holes from the arrows now sealed. Lime even cleaned off the bloodstains, restoring the armor to a pristine, newly forged state. It didn't take long for him to finish crafting a gleaming full plate mail that looked freshly made.

Lime asked, "How does it look?"

I nodded in admiration. "As impressive as ever."

As I was about to leave, Lime suddenly called out to me.