Bell moved through the narrow corridor, his view suddenly opening into a wide space.
It was a finely decorated hall. Yet, unlike its elegant design, the inside was a complete mess—disordered and chaotic. Magic Stone lamps hung from the ceiling, flooding the entire room with light. A pungent chemical stench filled the air.
What had once been a gambling table was now covered with scattered reagent bottles and glass containers of various sizes. Piles of raw materials lay strewn about, their mixed fumes creating an overpowering, nauseating odor.
Bell scanned the enemies gathered around the gambling tables. Nine in total.
The mercenary wasn't among them. Naaza had to be in one of the rooms further back. Their reason for kidnapping her was probably tied to the potion being developed here.
Taking a deep breath, Bell tightened his grip on his blade and stepped forward. For a rookie adventurer to charge alone into an enemy stronghold—it was nothing short of reckless.
"Cranel-san, why are you saving her?"
Ryuu's cool, measured voice echoed in his mind.
Judging from their brief encounters, Bell and Naaza had only met twice. She had even sold him a low-quality potion that failed to ease his pain. Ryuu didn't believe the boy held any special affection for her. Nor was he the kind of person to carry the word "justice" in his heart like someone from her past.
So what drove his courage? What pushed him forward, despite the pain and exhaustion he had endured? Ryuu couldn't understand.
Why risk himself to save her?
To Bell, the reason was simple.
Naaza had sold those shoddy potions out of kindness—hoping he'd give up early and avoid following the same path she had. Bell couldn't forgive that kind of thing, but they had already made a promise to work toward rebuilding her familia's prosperity. From a practical standpoint, rescuing Naaza now would secure the Miach Familia's support.
But that wasn't the real reason.
The Dungeon itself was changing. Powerful, giant goblins had already appeared on the third floor—and they were clearly targeting him.
From a risk perspective, continuing his exploration would likely mean facing even greater danger. With Ryuu now lending her strength, Bell wasn't about to miss out on this chance—on the [experience] that had practically come knocking at his door.
Bell fell into thought.
Ryuu watched him intently, as if trying to peer into the very core of his being.
Those who chase justice will one day break their wings.
Those who long to be heroes will eventually turn to ash.
Because of Syr, she would do everything in her power to help Bell. But Ryuu still wanted to understand what made this boy so unique.
Facing the Elf girl's deep blue eyes, Bell met her gaze and answered,
"Because I can win."
Recklessness is the enemy of heroes. Bell had originally intended to seek help from the Adventurer's Guild—it would have taken time, but it was the safest move.
However, Ryuu's offer to help had changed his plan. This wasn't recklessness; it was a carefully considered decision.
Hearing his unexpected answer, Ryuu let out a quiet, relieved smile. Her smile was soft and pure, like a flower swaying gently in the wind.
Not for heroism. Not for justice. Just because he believed he could win—that alone gave him the courage to face his pain.
Bell went on to explain his reasoning and his plan.
The mercenary hired by the criminals was only Level 2. Kidnapping Naaza had already cost them time and energy. Common sense dictated that, to avoid witnesses, they'd need to act swiftly—and yet their coordination was clearly poor, their overall strength unimpressive.
If he and Ryuu played their cards right, the two of them alone could rescue Naaza.
In fact, that might even be the best option.
Asking for help from the Guild would take too long, and cornered criminals might turn desperate and use Naaza as a hostage.
After hearing Bell's plan, Ryuu's impression of him changed once more. She finally understood what drew her to this white-haired boy.
In Orario's darkest era, heroes fought on the front lines while strategists guided them from behind. It was through the unity of both that the city had purged the shadows and embraced the light.
And this boy—he carried the potential of both.
If he were to become a hero, there was no doubt—he would be the most unorthodox, the most extraordinary of them all.
The Elf girl donned her mask and stepped into the alley.
Before they split up, she offered her most sincere blessing to the youth who had volunteered to act as the [bait].
"Cranel-san, may your sense of justice never fade."
...
She must already be on the move.
Bell looked toward the distance, stepping boldly into the hall.
"No way—don't tell me that guy couldn't even beat a rookie Adventurer?"
A nearby man caught sight of him.
"Hah! The one who always carries that curved blade? He's gotta be weaker than a Goblin!"
Laughter rippled through the room as others joined in.
Everyone in the hall noticed Bell's intrusion, yet none of them stopped their work.
"Get rid of him quickly before he breaks something," an impatient voice barked from the back.
"Yeah, yeah. Leave it to me."
The nearest man cracked his knuckles and rushed toward Bell in a single leap.
"Go home and drink your milk, kid! Stop making trouble for the adults!"
He swung a heavy punch—only to feel nothing.
What—?
Such a simple attack was easily avoided. Bell slipped past and slashed in return.
Was this really the movement of a rookie Adventurer?
The man's brow furrowed as he finally got a good look at Bell. "You're that white-haired brat who collapsed on the first floor! Why—"
His words cut off as he lost consciousness, collapsing to the floor.
"You've gotta be kidding me."
"Wait, that's really him—the weakest Adventurer?"
"How the hell did he knock him down?"
"Kid, what kind of trick are you pulling?"
"Watch out! That blade's poisoned!"
Amidst the shouts and confusion, Bell became a shadow in motion, sweeping through the battlefield like a nightmare.
The clash of steel echoed throughout the hall.
Realizing the dagger was poisoned, the adventurers drew their weapons to block. Bell jumped onto the gambling table, dodging their strikes while kicking over glass containers, spreading chaos everywhere.
They really had no sense of teamwork.
Those fighting Bell had to guard not only against his blade but also the wild, uncoordinated swings of their own allies.
The more opponents there were, the more the advantage shifted to Bell.
"His Status is low—just guard your vital spots!"
Amid the mess, one of them shouted over the noise.
"Are you an idiot? That dagger knocks people out cold! Three have already gone down—how do you just block vital spots?"
"There are antidotes here. Drink them if you get hit. Calm down—he's just a rookie. We can take him one at a time!"
At his command, the adventurers quickly regrouped and readied their stance.
Bell's eyes flicked toward the stacks of potions nearby, his expression tightening.
"What's wrong? Out of tricks? You might not have the resistance of a veteran Adventurer, but with antidotes around, you're better off surrendering."
"Relax, we'll be gentler than the Goblins."
"Hahaha!"
Their laughter and mockery echoed through the hall. In their eyes, victory was already certain.
Bell clicked his tongue in annoyance, then charged forward like a man with nothing to lose.
All eyes followed him as he clashed head-on with one of the Adventurers.
"Wait—this kid's way too skilled!"
"You're joking, right?"
"Don't panic. As long as we protect the vital points, he can't hurt us. We'll wear him down soon enough."
Bell had been trained to fight humans since childhood.
Compared to monsters with unpredictable forms and movements, facing people was his specialty.
After a few exchanges, Bell found the perfect opening and struck back with precision, his dagger piercing through his opponent's guard.
"Quick—antidote!" The man fell to the ground, blood gushing from his wound.
Another seized the moment and lunged at Bell.
Clang! Bell blocked the strike with his blade.
The fallen man gulped down an antidote and hastily uncorked a healing potion.
"—!"
"Why isn't the Potion working?!"
The wound began to close slightly but didn't fully heal. He was certain he had drunk a genuine potion—not a fake.
Blood poured out along with his panic and disbelief.
"This can't be happening..."
"Hey... look at his weapon!"
One of them stared at Bell in horror.
At some point, a second dagger had appeared in the white-haired boy's left hand.
Bell stepped forward, his hesitation gone—replaced by unwavering resolve.
The seed of doubt had already been planted.
Now came the harvest.
...
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