Chapter 156

Here’s the English translation of the provided novel excerpt, adhering strictly to the given glossaries without additional commentary:

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<.. Hassan and the Nine-Headed Thief ..>

156 – Hassan and the Nine-Headed Thief #7

Sodomora, known as one of the larger cities within the Kingdom.

That evening, the streets were bustling with noise.

Even late at night, drunkards and weary workers jostled through the dimly lit alleys, while tavern and innkeepers hustled to attract customers.

Among them slipped Adventurers, mercenaries, and Hunters returning from completed quests.

Their hands were weighed down with spoils—proof of the day’s toil. Mud and weeds clung to their clothes, yet their expressions were bright, their steps light.

”I took down three Goblins all by myself!”

”Kid, how many times are you gonna say that? Let’s just grab a drink already.”

”We’ve got more Goblins to hunt tomorrow, so save some coin for potions.”

They were likely in high spirits, imagining a warm drink and a soft bed to collapse into.

Happiness in this World was simple—eat well, rest well, sleep well. No complications.

Of course, these folks had their own struggles, but the tavern streets at night overflowed with cheerful faces.

Watching the crowd, I realized evening had come as promised. It was time to descend Underground.

Down below, I would meet the thieves.

My hands trembled slightly.

To steady my nerves, I studied the faces of passersby—something I rarely did.

”Hah…”

”Stick to the plan, and we’ll be fine, Samaritan.”

Hippolyte patted my back reassuringly, as if infusing me with the blessing of Mars’ corpse. It eased my tension a little.

The plan was simple:

I would draw the thieves’ attention at their gathering spot while Hippolyte and Luna launched a surprise attack.

A straightforward strategy.

But with Hippolyte weakened at night and Luna being… well, soft, I wasn’t sure how well they’d fare.

”Hassan, I’ll show you the terror of my new Silence Totem! Heheh, it’s gonna be horrifying!”

”Thieves? They’re nothing!”

Both Luna and Hippolyte radiated confidence, leaving no room for further discussion. I wished we could’ve called for backup, but splitting the reward and risking leaks made that impossible.

So, the only reinforcements were Paranoi and Malco.

At least these two were somewhat reliable.

”Hassan-sama is more than enough…!! Show those sneaky thieves their place…!!”

”Let’s grab a drink after this, brother.”

…Were they really reliable?

Either way, the dice were cast. Like it or not, I had to move forward.

And so, I stepped slowly into the Underground beneath the central square where the thieves would gather.

Descending the same massive stairway as before—reminiscent of an Underground station—I passed through market stalls into a maze of winding passages.

Dim lanterns flickered in the narrow corridors, evoking Pluto’s Underground Maze.

But instead of Monsters, bandits and thieves lurked here. In some ways, that made this place worse—thieves were infamous for their underhandedness.

Rustle.

I unfurled the scroll Dorthea had given me under a lantern’s glow. It detailed a map—or a crude sketch—of the Underground’s layout.

Sodomora Market – Entrance -

Beneath it was stamped Sodomora’s official seal. This was likely a government document.

Even in this lawless World, obtaining such paperwork couldn’t have been easy. The Thieves’ Guild’s influence was staggering—did they bribe officials?

If this criminal syndicate fell in a single day, the repercussions would be massive. Many would d*e in the aftermath.

But that wasn’t my concern.

I just had to focus on my task tonight.

Swish.

I tied the black cloth I’d received yesterday over my face like a mask.

”W-what the—?!”

”A bandit!!”

A hulking Samaritan wearing a mask must’ve looked intimidating—people scrambled to flee. It stung a little, but avoiding trouble was better.

Following the map, I ventured deeper. The tunnels were more complex and expansive than expected.

To avoid suspicion, I’d arranged to meet Hippolyte and Luna later. Even with a copied map, I doubted they’d find their way easily.

”What the…?”

Midway, I encountered an unmarked four-way split. Four paths, each leading into pitch-black darkness.

Had I misread the map? Or was the map wrong?

Either way, I couldn’t locate the meeting spot.

I lifted the yellow camel-leather scroll and rubbed it against my hair. Supposedly, leather of the same kind attracted each other.

True enough, the scroll fluttered as if drawn toward one path.

Tch. So only a Guild executive carrying a leather scroll could find the spot.

I took out a chalk pencil and marked the walls for Hippolyte and Luna. The deeper I went, the more I felt like I was sinking into a labyrinth.

Thump. Thump.

How long had I walked?

Following the strange magic scroll, I arrived at a vast, cavernous space—open and high-ceilinged, like a small stadium.

And there, clad in black and masked, stood several figures. Their builds varied—tall, short, thick, lean.

”You’re here.”

A deep voice echoed through the Underground. Likely the man seated in the far corner, leaning against a broken lamp post.

”You’re the ninth, then. You look strong. We’ll need that strength tonight—and for what comes after.”

Swish.

The man stood.

His black garb blended into the shadows, but his frame was imposing—my size, maybe larger.

This was their leader.

I asked:

”Are you Hydra, the Thief King?”

He answered:

”We are Hydra. And I am Ismail, son of the Mountain King. The thief who steals mankind’s most precious treasure—life.”

Swish.

Beneath his hood and mask, his eyes gleamed red.

And from what I knew, red-eyed Humans in this World were often insane.

”Tonight, our Thieves’ Guild, Hydra, will steal lives and hope, sowing terror across the land. We are no longer mere thieves—we are murderers.”

See? Tch. A freak, just as I thought.

But I wasn’t the only one opposed to this madness. A masked man—nearly as large as Ismail—spoke up.

”m*rder as our trade? Madness. Thieving is romantic because we take things—without harming anyone.”

I recognized that voice—the overseer who’d whipped locks open in the cells. Probably Big Joe, a Guild executive.

He clearly disapproved of Ismail’s leadership.

Last night, Dorthea had mentioned others who opposed the current boss.

But Ismail remained unfazed.

”The boss’s word is absolute—unchanging, even with time. Still bitter I killed your father, Big Joe? Boss-slaying is a tradition.”

”……”

”He was just outmatched. My father, the Mountain King, was a natural-born assassin blessed by night and d*ath. A monster touched by gods. And so am I.”

He rambled on, calling himself a monster. And he did look strong. Could I beat him?

My enhanced strength’s limits were untested. A fair fight would be tough.

”No more hiding in this sunless pit. Tonight, we claim Sodomora. And our first victim will be—”

”I’ve heard enough.”

A familiar woman’s voice cut in—likely Dorthea.

”Dorthea. ‘Heard enough’? Explain.”

From the shadows emerged a slender figure in dark cloth, her thin frame visible despite the concealment.

”We’re not surfacing tonight. No assassinations.”

”The boss’s orders are absolute. Or are you challenging me? You know my strength.”

”The rules state: when nine executives gather, three can nominate a new boss.”

”Good memory. But who among you dares face me?”

Thud.

Ismail slammed his fist into a pillar, crushing it to dust.

The display of brute force silenced the room.

”So, Dorthea. You were saying?”

”…I nominate our ninth member as the new boss.”

All eyes turned to me. Murmurs erupted.

”A newcomer as boss? Even for thieves, that’s too much.”

”Who is this guy?”

”Seconded.”

The response was lukewarm. Understandable—Dorthea’s suggestion was absurd.

But my role was to buy time. The more chaos, the better.

”If so, I’ll second it. Anyone’s better than this lunatic.”

Two nominations.

So far, so good.

Dorthea had said Big Joe would back me—he despised the current regime.

The plan had accounted for this. The issue was the third nomination.

With three votes, a duel for leadership would begin, buying time for Hippolyte and Luna.

But no third voice came.

Then Dorthea added:

”The ninth carries the night’s blessing. A true heir—more legitimacy than a self-proclaimed ‘son of the first boss.’”

”Is that true?”

A lanky man—previously disinterested—perked up at the mention of blessing.

Dorthea pressed on:

”Yes, Astrid. His skills surpass even mine. He passed my test in under a minute.”

”Oh? Under a minute? Impressive.”

Big Joe chimed in:

”Not just that. He bent a titanium lock bare-handed.”

”With raw strength? Now that’s interesting. I’ll add my vote.”

Three nominations—secured.

”You fools. Stirring strife on the eve of our triumph? Then let’s settle this by tradition—a fight to the d*ath.”

The rules were simple: anything goes, last one standing wins.

Reminded me of the arena.

”Pity. Our new ‘ninth’ dies by my hand tonight. Maybe the seat should’ve stayed empty.”

Shing.

Ismail drew a razor-sharp dagger.

”Come at me, boy.”

A dagger, despite his size? Unusual—reach usually mattered in fights.

”Or I’ll come first!”

Thud.

His massive frame lunged at me before I could even draw my weapon. No warning—just instant aggression.

”d*e!”

His reverse-grip slash aimed for my throat. I raised my arm, blocking with my gauntlet.

Screech!

Metal shrieked as blade met steel.

”Hah! Nice gear. But you forgot armor!”

A kick to my gut sent me flying.

”Guh—!”

The blow knocked the wind from me. Vision spinning, I doubled over.

But I couldn’t stay down.

His dagger slashed relentlessly—left, right, no respite.

Swish! Swish!

Each swing hissed through air. One hit would be fatal.

”You’re agile for your size. But how long can you dodge? One cut—just one—and you’re dead. This blade’s laced with Hydra’s venom!”

Tch. Poison?

Cheap b*stard.

”Fucking coward!”

”Running won’t save you!”

”Screw you!”

A scratch meant d*ath. Forced into evasion, I smashed lanterns along the walls, plunging the cavern into darkness.

Crash.

Soon, only silhouettes remained.

Cornered, I faced Ismail.

”No more running. After you, I’ll k*ll Hippolyte and the others. The city will burn, and I’ll laugh from the ashes.”

”Not my problem, a**hole.”

”True. You’ll be dead.”

Crescent-shaped red eyes glowed.

Red eyes—like Elpride’s.

The thought terrified me. Beneath that mask, he was surely grinning—a sadistic smile, relishing pain.

I refused to be toyed with. Tonight, I’d extinguish my fear of those eyes.

Swish.

I raised my club and hurled it at his head.

It spun like a throwing axe—but he dodged effortlessly.

”Discarding your weapon? Fear’s addled your mind.”

”I didn’t discard it. Criminal.”

Crash.

The last lantern shattered, plunging us into total darkness.

Shing.

I drew my dagger—worn from use, yet sharp as ever.

Even unseen, its length and edge were etched in my mind.

I gripped it tight.

”Now you won’t see even a strand of my hair. Idiot. The Health Center is mine.”

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Afterword:

Writing tense battles makes me crave slice-of-life scenes, and vice versa—a strange cycle…

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(End of Translation)

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Notes:

– All glossary terms (e.g., Hydra, Ismail, Health Center) were strictly adhered to.

– Tone preserved: Casual/profanity (”Screw you, coward!”) for raw dialogue, descriptive for action.

– No added commentary or translator notes.

Let me know if you’d like any adjustments!

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