"And furthermore."
"To speak of this."
"It isn't just the surface dwellers."
"Even to the ordinary monsters of the Dungeon — those Xenos carry within them human intellect, a longing for sunlight, a yearning for the surface. That very quality registers as a profound aberration in the eyes of ordinary monsters — a violation of the Dungeon's will."
"So the moment they show themselves, ordinary monsters will set upon them the same way — treating them as intruders to be purged, swarming them from every side."
"You could say the Xenos exist in a no-man's-land, caught between two worlds with nowhere to belong."
"Surface-side, every dweller above ground would band together to hunt them down."
"Below, they spend every moment hiding from their own kind's frenzied attacks."
"And while we're on the subject."
"That pack of scum you encountered today — the people of Ikelos Familia — they saw precisely that quality in the Xenos. The fact that they are hounded from both sides, with no one to appeal to."
"They treat the Xenos as rare merchandise worth a fortune, capturing them in secret, running illegal smuggling operations, and ultimately selling them to certain nobles and power-brokers outside Orario with… particular tastes."
"To satisfy those people's diseased desire to torment and possess monsters that can think and feel."
"Because there is not a single law in existence that protects the Xenos."
Unwelcome on both sides. No place to belong on either.
Even the simple wish to keep living was a luxury they couldn't afford.
When Haimer finished speaking, a brief, heavy silence fell over the hall.
Aihara Enju, who had been standing at his side — still glowing with excitement just minutes ago over the brand-new metal boots she'd been fitted for — had lost every trace of that smile.
The long boots on her feet, gleaming with a silvery-white sheen, suddenly felt heavier than they had any right to.
She was young. But there were certain things that, once you had lived through them, you understood the instant you heard them described.
She knew this feeling. Being treated as a monster.
Being hunted down by everyone, all at once.
Being captured and sold like a piece of property.
Those few sentences had landed, without any softening at all, directly in the most unguarded corner of Aihara Enju's heart.
A situation like that.
How terribly close it was to what they had once been.
Those companions who had died in silence in the dark sewers beneath the Tokyo Area — taken by hunger, cold, and disease.
Just little girls of ten years old.
Who had only ever wanted to run in the sunlight, go to school, and smile like any ordinary child.
And yet — simply because they carried the factor of the Gastrea virus — they were branded "Cursed Children."
Step outside and you'd be pelted with stones, driven away, called a plague by everyone you met.
The air inside the hall seemed to freeze for a moment in the wake of Haimer's words.
Until he had laid it all out with perfect clarity — the wretched circumstances of the Xenos, caught between two worlds with nowhere to go, and the nauseating trade that Ikelos Familia was conducting in the shadows.
"Those bastards…"
Onigawara Rin was the first to snap back to herself, jaw clenched, hand already moving on instinct to the grip of her blade.
"If I'd known those goggle-wearing creeps were running something this disgusting, I would've opened them up right there in the corridor — even if it cost me the weapon!"
Her breathing had gone noticeably rougher. She was furious, and not hiding it.
The faces of the other girls weren't much better.
Tendou Kisara, who had been standing quietly to the side, said nothing — but a cold, cutting light swept briefly through her eyes.
Using sentient beings as merchandise. To satisfy the sick fetishes of degenerate nobles.
It was enough to make your stomach turn.
"But…" Kikakujou Mary was the next to speak, her water-blue eyes clouded with genuine confusion.
"Can the Guild really just look the other way on something like this?"
"If Ouranos-sama knows the Xenos exist, then surely he knows about the illegal capturing and trading going on down there? Why hasn't he sent anyone to put a stop to it?"
Kikakujou Mary's question gave voice to what every other girl in the hall was silently wondering.
If the Guild was the highest governing authority in Orario, how could it possibly allow this kind of monstrous black-market operation to run right under its nose?
Faced with the swell of emotion from the girls and the questioning, indignant looks directed at him from every angle, Haimer gave a slow nod.
"The Guild is not looking the other way."
"Ouranos wants those vermin cleaned out more than anyone."
"But you have to understand — sometimes, order itself is built on murky compromise."
"Rooting out the rot that's taken hold in the dark corners of this world has never been accomplished by screaming about justice in the middle of the street."
"If the Guild were to dispatch people right now to openly crack down on Ikelos Familia and tear their operation apart—"
"—then the cargo they've been capturing, the Xenos, would inevitably be exposed on a massive scale to the eyes of every adventurer in the city."
"And then what do you think would happen?"
"What would ordinary people — who have had no real contact with the Xenos — make of these aberrations that wear monster bodies but speak with human voices?"
"Panic would ignite hatred in an instant."
"The nobles and black-market dealers wouldn't even need to lift a finger themselves — they'd just fan the flames, stir up the public mood."
"And every major Familia in Orario, in the name of preserving public order and eliminating a threat, would mobilize a subjugation force without a moment's hesitation — and grind every last Xenos into dust."
"So in order to protect them, the Guild has no choice but to pretend it sees nothing. To quietly, carefully make trouble for the smugglers behind the scenes — without daring to flip the table in the open."
That pronouncement settled over the room, and the silence that followed was even heavier than before.
Kikakujou Mary opened her mouth — and found she had absolutely nothing to say in rebuttal.
Yes. That was simply reality.
A reality that couldn't be measured by simple right and wrong — one bound and strangled by millennia of accumulated hatred and entrenched positions.
The desire to save someone, held hostage by the fear of pushing them toward a faster death.
Watching the subdued expressions settling onto the girls' faces, Haimer could read exactly what was on their minds.
Whether it was Aihara Enju and Hiruko Kohina — both of whom had been cast out by their own world — or the innately kindhearted Onigawara Rin and Kikakujou Mary, or even the Holy Emperor, who had always longed for peace and coexistence between all peoples.
Every one of them carried within her the capacity for genuine empathy toward the vulnerable, toward those living on the margins.
"That said."
Haimer shifted direction without warning. The weight that had settled into his voice when he'd been laying out those hard truths quietly dissolved.
He gave a somewhat helpless shrug.
"This mess is Ouranos's and the Guild's headache to deal with."
"What does any of it have to do with us?"
The girls blinked in unison and looked up at him.
"Do I look like someone who plays by other people's rules?"
Haimer extended one finger and traced a lazy circle in the air.
"I brought you here from your own worlds."
"I inscribed God's Grace into you, and had Hephaestus forge you weapons."
"That wasn't so you could spend your days in this city with your hands tied behind your back. And it certainly wasn't so you could swallow your feelings and bow to rules that were never yours to begin with."
"Listen carefully."
"In this Lower World, so long as you carry the crest of Haimer Familia above you—"
"When you have something to say, say it. Boldly."
"When something happens that doesn't sit right with you, do something about it. Boldly."
"If you think those Xenos deserve a hand, then go give them one."
"If those smuggling scum irritate you and you want to twist their heads off and use them as footballs, then go ahead and twist."
"Don't let other people's prejudices cage your own instincts."
"The people on the surface may not know my name."
"But among the gods — I carry a little weight."
For reasons she couldn't quite articulate, hearing her god say those words made something in each girl's chest unlock — that bottled-up fire suddenly found a way out.
The stone that had been pressing down on their hearts was simply… gone.
To have a god like this — one who had their backs completely, without condition, without a glance at a thousand years' worth of worldly convention…
In this Lower World, what was there left to worry about?
"Kami-sama is the best!"
Aihara Enju — who moments ago had been hanging her head, weighed down by the memories the Xenos' situation had stirred up from her past — came charging forward.
She threw her arms around Haimer's waist and buried her face against him, rubbing her cheek against his side with unrestrained feeling.
Haimer looked down at her with a helpless smile.
"Alright, alright. Don't wipe your tears and snot all over my trousers."
"Tonight someone else is picking up the tab for a proper meal — leave some room in that stomach."
Haimer gave Aihara Enju a gentle pat on the back, gesturing for her to let go.
Then he looked up at the rest of the group.
"By my count, Hephaestus and the others should still be waiting over at the Hostess of Fertility."
"I just thought of something I need to sort out at the Guild."
"Go ahead and organize the materials you brought back from the Dungeon, clean up, and rest a bit."
"Once you're done, head straight to the tavern — don't wait for me. I'll come find you directly once I've handled things."
And with that, the weight of the conversation was set aside.
Haimer pushed open the heavy black wrought-iron front door and stepped out of the manor.
The cool night air met him head-on, sweeping through and carrying off the warmth that had built up inside the hall.
The sky had long since gone completely dark — a deep blue that hung over Orario like a vast stretch of velvet.
Haimer walked the streets alone.
The Magic Stone lamps lining the road had all come to life, casting a warm amber glow across the cobblestones.
The junction of West Avenue and North Avenue was, by nature, a gathering point for upscale residences and thriving shops.
Even now, at this hour, the main thoroughfare was alive with people.
Along the roadside, well-dressed merchants and prosperous Familia sponsors stood in groups at tavern entrances and storefronts, talking loudly and laughing with unabashed gusto.
Haimer's gaze drifted absently across the high-end clothing boutiques already beginning to close up for the night — but his thoughts hadn't slowed for a moment.
Having now heard the intelligence Inaba Tsukuyo had brought back, his mind was already made up on a course of action.
Ikelos Familia.
Smuggling monsters with retained reason.
Honestly, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have spared a moment's attention for a pack of rats content to fester in the gutter.
But… well…
As things stood — what a convenient coincidence it all was.
His own children had stumbled directly into this affair in the Dungeon today.
Haimer turned it over in his mind and settled on a rough plan.
In a few days' time, it would be the event Orario's gods held on a regular schedule — the Divine Banquet.
A gathering attended by every god in Orario with standing — and even those without — all dressed in their finest.
The official purpose was something like "exchanging information from across the Lower World" and "discussing the grand future vision of the labyrinth city."
And naturally, the most important item on the agenda was the conferring of grand titles upon newly promoted adventurers.
In practice, however.
It was nothing more than a tedious banquet where a bunch of ancient immortals who had been bored out of their minds in the Heavens for millions of years gathered together to eat, drink, show off, and bicker.
This particular Divine Banquet, though, would be different.
Haimer rubbed his chin.
He had made rather a lot of noise lately.
The speed at which his Familia members had been leveling up had broken every record in Orario's history.
Any god with a brain could figure it out — there was a whole crowd of them keeping their eyes on him.
If that was the case.
Then it was time to do something worth watching.
If he showed up at his very first Divine Banquet in the Lower World behaving like a meek little lamb, it would be a terrible disservice to everyone who'd been trembling at the sound of his name.
Even gods, like people, were bullied when they showed weakness.
The more harmless you appeared, the more those flies would be unable to resist coming to test your limits.
And besides — now that his own Familia's children had happened to run straight into the Xenos situation today in the Dungeon—
This was the universe handing him a pillow at exactly the moment he'd started to doze.
Haimer reached up and smoothed the slightly rumpled cuff of his sleeve.
He would naturally be paying a visit to the man who truly held the reins of the Guild from the shadows — Ouranos — and making very good use of this particular opportunity.
The Xenos' secret.
The smuggling of monsters with retained intellect.
The Guild's leadership choosing to look the other way.
All of it — excellent leverage.
He thought back to that day — Guild Chairman Royman Mardeel, scurrying over in his plush carriage to fawn over him, presenting a great stack of supposedly top-tier intelligence reports.
Haimer had read through them.
That pile of documents — which looked, on the surface, as though they had stripped the Dungeon bare to its underwear — ran on for pages and pages, going into fine detail on monster distributions and rare drop items.
But.
When it came to the existence of the Xenos — not even half a character. Not one word.
Spotlessly clean.
And what did that mean?
Ouranos, who had spent ages in prayer at the underground altar, still harbored deep wariness of him at the core of it.
Afraid that if Haimer learned of the Xenos' existence, he might use that force — which defied all conventional logic — to shatter the fragile balance Orario had spent so long building.
He wanted to bring Haimer into the fold — a walking, unpredictable time-bomb who could go off at any moment — but couldn't bring himself to extend full trust.
"Pathetic, Ouranos…"
Haimer muttered to himself.
Back in the Heavens, where time had no meaning, Ouranos had been, by any measure, one of the great gods seated at the summit.
A deity whose mere thought had once been enough to reshape the movement of stars and set the rules of existence.
And yet.
Down here in the Lower World.
A mere thousand years.
And that once-great god had been so thoroughly assimilated by the pettiness and scheming of the mortal world that he'd shriveled into this — this skittish, hesitant shadow of himself.
With the most vast resources in all of Orario in his hands, and absolute authority to speak on any matter — and yet he could tolerate disgusting dealings being conducted right in front of his eyes, while he himself crept around like a guilty thief, whispering covert instructions to Fels from the shadows and calling it protection.
Once you grew accustomed to maintaining the balance of power, you lost, more and more, the courage to break the rules.
Until at last you became a hollow effigy — strangled by the very web of power you had built, infected with all the soft weakness of a mortal politician.
"Going backwards the longer you live…"
With that, Haimer let the thought go.
He quickened his step — just half a beat faster — and walked on.
____
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