Chapter 62

Every member of the Heptagram Society was a heinous criminal, and except for special cases like Winter Winslet, each had their own gang.

In other words, they led organized crime groups.

And where was the perfect place for such gangs to settle? Naturally, in dangerous areas beyond the reach of city law enforcement—

Specifically, the slums of Lambart.

Slums tend to spring up all over a city.

The lower reaches of a river where waste accumulates, lowlands that flood when it rains, the unsanitary areas around slaughterhouses, or residential zones for service workers paired with bustling commercial districts.

The one I was looking for was the neighborhood next to a busy downtown area—

Specifically, Chapel Street, located just inside Blondin Street’s theater district, which I had visited with Josephine last time.

Chapel Street was divided into three sections, moving outward from the main road: High Chapel, Gray Chapel, and Low Chapel.

The farther in you went, the worse the law and order became.

Arriving at the entrance to High Chapel and the part that still retained some semblance of a cityscape, I recalled my memories from playing Candela of Judgment.

Since the game’s side quests had me in and out of slums constantly, I knew the layout of this place fairly well.

As far as I knew, the thieves’ guild held the dominant influence over Chapel Street, but other Heptagram Society factions also had many strongholds here.

Being the closest slum to the city center, it was surprisingly popular among criminals.

A “premium” slum… laughable, but true.

Among its residents was Sakis Lubas, the Second Point of the Heptagram Society who had several bases here.

So where should I start searching to recover the Caraphine?

I was mapping out a route in my head when someone spoke up beside me.

“Wow, it’s been ages since I’ve been here. I haven’t come back since I was adopted as a kid. Now that I’m back, even the stench feels nostalgic… Don’t you think so, Mr. Nice Goodman?”

On this trip to the slums, I wasn’t alone.

Tagging along was a slightly giddy, rather talkative young man. It was Andrew Gibson.

He was an apprentice reporter at the newspaper run by Rose Bly. When Rose found out I was heading into the slums, she decided to send him with me, saying one of her staff had long wanted to cover the area.

So, for today, my secondary mission alongside my main objective was to escort this rookie reporter and make sure he returned with all his limbs intact.

As payment for Rose Bly providing me with a hideout and an alibi, it was an easy enough favor.

Of course, Andrew had no idea who I really was.

He only knew me as “Nice Goodman”, a skilled problem solver introduced through Rose Bly’s connections.

His only flaw was that he talked too much.

“Hey, Mr. Goodman.”

“What now?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re bleeding. Uh… from your mouth.”

I raised my hand to touch the corner of my lips and felt something warm.

The reason became clear an instant later.

[Warning]

[Willpower and Health have temporarily decreased.]

[Trait activated: Sense of Hygiene]

Sense of Hygiene

– Detects contamination or toxic substances with ease. However, reacts sensitively to unhygienic environments, causing negative effects.

– When exposed to unsanitary conditions or polluted areas, Willpower and Health temporarily decrease. Additional penalties occur depending on exposure level and duration.

– (Disguise Effect Active: Trait’s effects are reduced while disguised.)

The hygiene level in the slums could not be called “clean”, even with the most generous wording.

And Winter Winslet was the sort of lunatic who would cough up blood just from seeing a pile of human waste on the roadside.

***

Cleanliness always comes at a cost.

This applies to people, to houses, and even to cities.

Therefore, the slums could never be clean.

The neglected sewers had long since fallen apart, and the residents dumped their mixed household waste wherever they pleased.

At best, the so-called “clean” ones would simply dump their filth in front of someone else’s house instead of their own.

Of course, that didn’t make much of a difference.

The stench was rising from every direction.

[Warning]

[Willpower and Health have temporarily decreased.]

[Trait activated: Sense of Hygiene]

[Repeated Penalty]

[Willpower and Health have greatly decreased.]

(Disguise Effect Active: The trait’s effects are reduced while in disguise.)

One new thing I learned was that while disguised as “Nice Goodman”, the trait’s effects were noticeably weaker.

Thanks to that, the penalties were lighter.

Even so, breathing in the stench of rot and urine nonstop was steadily wearing me down, so I took out my contingency plan.

It’s not as if I came to the slums without any preparation, after all.

From inside my coat, I pulled out a small glass vial and poured the golden liquid inside into my mouth.

It was known as a panacea. Or, more commonly, an elixir.

Even in the original Judgment of Candela, it was considered an exceptionally rare treasure, but I’d managed to take the only one hidden in the academy’s storage using a professor’s authority.

In the original game, this was meant to be discovered by the player during a side story in a crisis, but that wasn’t my concern.

[Elixir of Life effect activated.]

[Health has temporarily increased.]

As I gulped down the foul-tasting liquid, the dizziness and nausea subsided and I could feel my condition gradually returning to normal.

Beside me, Andrew made a fuss.

“Are you all right? Shouldn’t we go straight to a healer? Oh no… there’s probably no hospital nearby.”

“I’m fine now. I’ve taken medicine.”

“Oh… so you have a chronic illness. That’s why you’re coughing up blood…”

Andrew wore the solemn expression of someone looking at a terminal patient.

An illness that makes you spit blood whenever you feel sick…

If someone like that were standing next to me, I’d probably look at them with pity too.

Unfortunately, that someone was me.

The elixir’s effect would last for a day.

With my Health stat boosted to offset the penalties, I would need to finish my business in the slums before the medicine wore off.

If I planned to visit the slums again, I’d have to get my hands on another elixir.

The problem was that an elixir was a treasure-grade item. Something you couldn’t buy even if you had the money.

There was a way to make one myself, but gathering the ingredients would be tricky.

The academy had a greenhouse for cultivating magical plants, so maybe I’d stop by there sometime.

“Well then, shall we get going? Leave the High Chapel tour to me. After all, I’m from this neighborhood! Over that way is the orphanage where I grew up. A really scary-looking lady used to take care of us. I wonder if she’s still there?”

Andrew began strutting ahead.

This was another reason Rose Bly had told me to bring him along.

Rose Bly probably worried that Winter Winslet, who was a born-and-bred noble, might get lost in the slums… but a veteran of Judgment of Candela hardly needed a guide.

Even so, I let Andrew take the lead for one reason:

I had never heard of there being an orphanage on Chapel Street.

When I’d played Judgment of Candela, no such place existed.

Since Andrew was visiting here for the first time after being adopted, it was possible that the orphanage no longer existed at all.

Still, curiosity demanded I check, so I followed his lead.

Andrew who was brimming with confidence began weaving through the alleys.

And a moment later—

After turning around a corner, the guy muttered to himself,

“Ah… I’m lost.”

Useless fellow.

***

“It’s just been so long, that’s all. Once I keep walking, it’ll come back to me. I’m sure of it!”

Shouting that to redeem himself, Andrew quickened his pace, but in the end, he never did find the way.

Knowing the area like the back of my hand, I couldn’t help but be impressed that the path Andrew traced formed a perfect circle.

“Huh… isn’t this where we started…?”

Still, when we returned to the spot where Andrew and I had first met, there was one small change: three boys had appeared in the once-empty lot.

Andrew spotted them and let out a cry of triumph.

“Okay, perfect. I’ll go ask them for directions.”

That’s what he said. But to me, it looked more like Andrew had walked straight into their net.

If a group of kids gathers, they’re usually chattering, kicking a ball, or at least playing some sort of prank.

These boys, however, were leaning against a wall, quietly observing passersby.

Sure enough, when Andrew approached, they spread out, widening their formation to surround him.

“Hey there, boys. Nice morning, huh? Ahem. Your big brother here just wants to ask for directions.”

“Mister, you got any money?”

“What? You brats…already talking about money at your age?”

The one who looked like their leader gave Andrew a once-over and then said,

“If you’re not gonna pay up, just get lost.”

“Well, well… listen to this one. Bold little thing, aren’t you?”

Andrew chuckled in disbelief, then calmly took out his coin pouch.

“Here. Will this do?”

“Only ten peblanc? What are you, broke?”

“What?! You freeloading vagrants dare—!”

Judging by the fact that the boys weren’t filthy from head to toe, I figured they probably had a fixed place to stay and someone looking after them.

Those boys were quick to take offense at being called vagrants.

“Who are you calling a vagrant?”

“If you’re hanging around the streets all day, what else could you be but a homeless bum?”

“Guess you don’t know; this isn’t just any street. This is our place of business.”

“Business? What business could kids possibly have?”

“Hey, get it out.”

At the leader’s words, one of the boys rummaged through his pocket.

A moment later, he held out a small lump to Andrew.

It was made of dried, tightly packed plant leaves.

Andrew asked,

“Tobacco?”

“It’s not just tobacco, you know. This is way better. Normally you’d have to go deep into the inner neighborhoods to get your hands on it, but we’ll sell it to you right here for just a little extra. How about it? Depending on how much you’re willing to pay, we might even feel like giving you directions.”

Andrew, who had been listening with a dazed look, soon realized what the boys were actually up to and was horrified.

“You little punks! Selling drugs? I don’t care if this is the slums, you’re still wet behind the ears! That’s it, you’re getting a lesson today!”

Andrew rolled up his sleeves in fury and strode toward them.

Then—

“Yow! My leg!”

He started hopping in pain after taking a hard kick to the shin.

“Oh, now you’re even attacking people!”

The boys snickered.

“If you’ve got no money, just scram. What’s with the nagging?”

“You’re the one who came at us first, mister.”

“Hey, grab his arm from behind.”

Faced with the risk of getting beaten instead, Andrew backed away in a panic…only to trip and fall.

He looked back at me and shouted,

“Mr. Goodman! Help me! Mr. Nice Goodman!”

I sighed with my arms folded as I watched the scene.

Something told me this trip to the slums wasn’t going to go smoothly.