After officially entering the otherworld, Orsaga clenched his fists.
He could sense that under the suppression of this world's laws, only about a quarter of his power remained.
His entire being felt as if it were being rejected by the world itself.
If it weren't for the dual blessings of [Malignant Armant] and [Crimson Sin], he probably wouldn't have been able to retain even one-twentieth of his strength.
Although even one-twentieth of his power was nothing to scoff at—he could still swat a High-Rank Demon to death like it was a joke.
Aside from that, comparing against his internal biological clock, he determined that ti flowed over five tis faster here than in the Abyss.
So, there was no rush. He had plenty of ti to play around.
After confirming all this, he finally turned his gaze to the middle-aged man before him and resud their earlier transaction.
"Who's your target? Where are they?"
The man, who had previously been hesitant, now knew it was too late to back out. Resigned, he answered bitterly, "In the Ellre Republic, on the continent of Aseria, in the city of Baundale—Glenser Town, 5th Avenue, No. 177. There's a peculiar villa there. It's so sort of anomaly, and I need you to eliminate it."
After listening, Orsaga nodded. "Got it. I'll take care of it. As for the rest of your ti—go find yourself a grave."
Since the guy had served as a convenient pathfinder for the buffet, Orsaga gave him a slight courtesy in the form of a warning.
With that, he casually turned and walked toward the cave entrance, not bothering with the man any further.
He had no interest in asking about the backstory or motivations behind the job.
After all, the man's grudges had nothing to do with him. He wasn't so emotional peacekeeper here to diate disputes—he was just a killer. Point him to the target, and he'd swing his blade. Simple as that.
As for Orsaga's final words, the man's pale face darkened slightly with gloom.
He didn't need anyone to tell him—he could already feel his injuries deteriorating rapidly. Death wasn't far off.
His expression twisted with complexity as he thought,
'I did all I could… May your vengeance… find its hope…'
With that last thought, the tiny shred of vitality he had been clinging to—sustained purely by hatred—rapidly drained away.
He looked like soone with only monts left to live.
---
The mont Orsaga stepped out of the cave, his enormous true form imdiately shifted into a human guise.
He now wore attire similar in style to that of the middle-aged man.
Compared to how he looked back in the Myling World, his appearance was far less conspicuous. At the very least, the horns on his head and the eye on his forehead were gone.
After all, he didn't know the situation in this world—whether different races coexisted or not.
So he simply disguised himself as a normal human.
Looking up at the sun in the sky, he muttered discontentedly, "Summoning a demon in broad daylight… Really? No sense of atmosphere at all. Wouldn't midnight with a howling wind have been more appropriate?"
Although the sun in this world didn't carry the sa intense demon-repelling aura as the one in the Myling World, summoning a demon in broad daylight was still undeniably rude.
After sweeping his eyes across the surrounding wilderness, he spotted a river not far away, filled with floating man-made trash. Aside from that, there wasn't anything valuable in sight within several kiloters.
But that was a minor issue.
Sniffing the air, he caught the scent trails lingering on the breeze and imdiately determined the direction of the nearest human settlent.
With a casual swipe, a translucent portal appeared beside him.
He stepped through without hesitation.
---
It was noon.
Inside Ironmist City, a hazy mist hung in the air, giving it the feel of a city cloaked in fog.
For the average person, visibility wasn't exactly terrible, but it certainly wasn't great either. Beyond ten ters, everything looked like a vague gray blur.
This was due to the constant hum of machinery and the continuous emission of smoke from nearly everywhere—factories, cars, hos, and entertainnt venues.
Standing atop a certain building after stepping through the portal, Orsaga casually analyzed the composition of the surrounding haze and quickly concluded that it wasn't toxic. It resembled condensed steam—dense enough to linger for extended periods without dispersing.
That was the only reason the city's inhabitants still seed relatively healthy.
If the smog had co from burning materials and carried fine particulate matter, then the people of Ironmist City would have spent their lives wracked with illness.
Clearly, this was a civilization that had ventured down the path of steam and machinery—and had already advanced past nurous hurdles in its developnt.
Gazing down through the fog at the streets below, teeming with people moving like marching ants, Orsaga chuckled.
"This place would be perfect for a ga of hide-and-seek~"
He took a few seconds to listen to the conversations of the thousands of pedestrians beneath him.
From their voices, he pieced together the local language and quickly internalized it, also gleaning so scattered and disorganized information.
However, many of the basics were still missing. He hadn't yet caught up on so of this world's common knowledge.
So, he turned his attention to a likely source of information—a good-hearted civilian in the wild.
As a seasoned hunter of the wild, he knew the rule: when you need sothing, find a kind stranger to "sponsor" you. It never failed.
"Now, let's see… Which lucky soul has the good fortune of running into …"
It didn't take long before he picked a suitable lucky bystander from among the crowd.
In the next instant, his figure vanished from the rooftop.
---
On a shabby street so distance from the city center…
Filthy wastewater flowed in every direction. The poor sanitation was imdiately apparent, and the people moving through the area were dressed two or three rungs lower than those downtown.
There wasn't much vitality in their expressions either.
Most of them looked dull and lifeless, as if their days were a joyless grind. Clearly, they weren't living well.
Orsaga's chosen target was inside one of the residential hos on this very street.
Several n and won were gathered together inside, loudly celebrating.
Paper bills were scattered all over the floor.
The man leading the celebration looked to be around forty, average in appearance but burly in build.
At the mont, he was chugging down booze while shouting gleefully, "Hahaha! After this score, we're taking a few years off to party!!"
The others echoed his joy, clinking glasses and urging each other to eat and drink, their expressions brimming with excitent.
The reason for all this celebration?
They had just pulled off a big heist—a successful bank robbery.
For this gang of thieves, it was the ultimate high point in their careers. A true peak mont.
What none of them noticed, however, was that two of their comrades exchanged a subtle glance amidst the revelry.
They were blood brothers.
Even before the operation, the two had made extra plans.
They had laced the drinks with poison.
Once the celebration was over and the others were dead, the brothers would take the entire score and disappear into the wind, living out their lives in comfort.
And now, their harvest ti was near.
Having taken the antidote in advance, they made no effort to avoid the toasts. They drank freely, laughing even more exuberantly than the rest.
They blended perfectly into the festive atmosphere—showing no signs of betrayal.
___
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