Chapter 83

83rd Episode

Descendants of Pluto

083 ? Descendants of Pluto #10

My mind was filled with nothing but bewilderment.

I should have properly self-isolated. Carelessly venturing outside got me tangled up in a horrible situation.

Clunk, clack, clunk.

It was clear to anyone that the man in the black armor walking beside me was a cultist. This man seemed to mistake me for one of his comrades.

What could be the reason?

The first thought that came to mind was that one of his comrades must resemble me—a Samaritan uncannily similar to me, perhaps.

If not that, could it be something sinister related to the ominous magic sealed in my necklace, as the Nymph Paranoi in the underground prison had suspected?

I had been wearing this expensive and peculiar necklace because I thought it was cool—but it seems that one should only carry items befitting their station. With this necklace, I’m likely going to meet my doom! They all warned me it was ominous, and I should have listened!

“Uh, I really need to go. I have something important to do….”

In response to my words, the bulky man in black armor shook loudly. Soon, a resolute opinion, as sharp as a kn*fe cutting through food, came from his lips.

“There is nothing more important than our grand undertaking.”

“But I’m just an ordinary citizen…”

“Have you come this far just to back out? If so—.”

Gooohhh—

A strange, oppressive pressure emanated from the man’s body. Even though he paused mid-sentence, it was obvious what he was about to say.

My torso would surely be bisected by that massive, flat iron plate.

d*mn it, because this man has been listening to me this way since the start, I have no chance to say I need to return to Luna.

“Ah, I’ve forgotten something—.”

“There’s no time.”

Every excuse I tried felt like hitting a wall.

And if I attempted to flee, I could almost feel that massive sword flying at my back.

Or perhaps, he really believes I’m his comrade? Both Paranoi and the cultists give off the vibe of being a screw loose somewhere in their heads.

Thus, with no other choice, I was dragged along by this strange giant to someplace—towards the farthest, darkest corner of the western slums of Sodomora.

A place rife with rats and vagrants sprawling on the ground like a dump.

Whimpers of diseased patients were everywhere, the shrill screams of women mingling with the sound of something breaking.

“Comrade, what do you see?”

The man, who had otherwise remained silent, suddenly spoke to me when I didn’t reply.

“Rats. Rats.”

“Indeed. The sound of rats. And the cries of suffering from every corner. d*ath’s stench is everywhere. We are almost there.”

At his words, “almost there,” I tensed up. Soon, the man turned the corner past a crumbling hut and knocked on someone’s door.

It was an ordinary slum household—walls full of holes, a broken roof, scattered garbage everywhere.

Is this where the cultists gather?

“Who’s there?”

Creak— The door opened slightly, revealing a face. The man appeared extremely tired but had a face full of scars and sharp eyes, reminiscent of a thief.

“Our house has nothing to steal. And why are you dressed like you’re hunting a dragon with all that iron strapped on? And what’s with that jug?”

“We’re coming in.”

“Wha, what, what? Who says you can?!”

The flustered male homeowner didn’t seem capable of stopping the man in black armor.

Clank, clack.

The cultist pushed through like an advancing tank and invaded the home. He soon squatted down and began drumming on the floor with his hands.

Thud, thud. Thud-thud.

“d*mn it, what the hell are you doing!?”

The owner’s irritation was evident, and I shared his curiosity. But the cultist ignored both of us and continued knocking on the floor.

Thud. Thud-Thud. Crash-!

A strange sound emerged from the old, crumbling wooden floor.

“Here.”

The cultist clutched his iron fists tightly and hammered the floor. In an instant, a big hole appeared in the floor that seemed ready to collapse any minute. Below it, there was a strange set of stairs.

“What the hell!? Why is there something like this in my house? Who even are you people?”

The homeowner, infuriated, drew a dagger from his waist. I panicked, fearing he might get stabbed.

But the cultist paid no attention to the man, only spoke to me.

“We’re going down.”

*

When I was very young, I once dived deep into the sea. It was to extract the juices of sea creatures and algae living beneath the ocean.

The sensation of submerging deep under the sea was quite burdensome to me—a pressing water pressure all over my body, restricted movement in my arms and legs, and the feeling of clogged ears.

It was a long-forgotten sensation that I could now feel again.

“Phew…”

“You’re not used to the boundary, are you? It will get better soon.”

Following the man down the staircase, I was walking through an odd corridor. Surrounded by cold brick walls, the corridor was dimly illuminated by candles hanging on the walls.

The space felt like an ancient passage from another era. And interestingly, walking along it was exhausting.

It felt like walking deep in the ocean, suffocating and unbearably restrictive.

Apparently, according to the man, this was due to a boundary.

Hell, a boundary? Is such a thing really possible?

Worse, I had a growing unease that we were heading somewhere we should not. I didn’t know how I’d survive this. I missed Luna.

Is she worried about me not returning? I hoped she wouldn’t step outside searching for me and get caught up in trouble.

I was genuinely very worried.

After walking for quite a while, a small door appeared at the end of the long corridor.

A thick iron door engraved with lily flowers in high relief. I recognized it as the same symbol I’d seen entering Pluto’s underground maze with Elpride.

The flower-engraved iron door resembled the entrance of a dungeon. Perhaps it truly was one.

Whatever it might be, one thing was certain: once I stepped inside, I’d be heading down a path I couldn’t return from.

Clank, squeak.

Unbothered by my tension, the man pushed open the tightly shut iron door with great force.

Groooaannn.

The heavy door groaned and swung open inward, revealing a surprisingly modest and shabby interior.

A round table with about six chairs and a narrow room. The only thing besides that were the scattered lit candles.

But the people sitting on those chairs were quite unusual.

There were three people sitting in the bizarre chamber, each draped in peculiar masks, helmets, or robes that concealed their identities. However, considering the circumstances, they were obviously insane, psychotic cultists on par with the armored man.

“Schizo, you’re quite late. We were about to start without you.”

The first person to speak was the man in a black robe sitting neatly at the table. His voice was young, soft, and gentle. His tone polite.

His face was hidden under the hood of the robe, but by his voice alone, I imagined him to be a handsome man. Hell, another unpleasant guy.

The long staff in his hand—something that wouldn’t seem out of place with a wizard—made me think he was some kind of mage. A cultist mage, meaning he was certainly far from normal.

Then the woman sitting beside him chimed in.

“Schizo is blind as a bat. He probably got lost and ended up late. Just the other day, he confused the place and ended up late, which made the temple raid fail. Idiot, moron, fool, useless fool.”

It was a high-pitched, sharp voice that came from under a mask resembling a totem or scarecrow face.

Sitting casually with both legs on the table, her attitude seemed quite carefree.

Moreover, she was wearing only a thin cloth covering the essentials, despite showing such a relaxed posture.

She had draped a thin, see-through veil around her waist, but looking closely, her form could still be seen.

While I stared, captivated by her slender, firm legs, the hooded man resumed his speaking.

“Who’s the person beside you? I don’t recognize them. How dare you bring someone in here without permission?”

Even under the shadow of his hood, I could feel the growing hostility directed at me.

So, there was someone normal who didn’t mistake me for a comrade. Of course, that’s normal, but at this point, it was rather inconvenient.

Hell, this is how I end up genuinely ruined.

In response, the black-armored man known as Schizo moved his body with a clunk and sat on a chair before casually replying.

“She’s our comrade.”

“Comrade? But I’ve never seen her before. Is everything alright? This is an important day…”

Crrrrk.

The staff-wielding man’s grip tightened visibly.

The staff, about 1.5 meters in length, had a large amber gem at its tip, which began to glow ominously.

Hell, am I really about to get attacked? cr*p!

“Anchors, you worry too much and that’s your downfall, loser. Did you really think there was a flaw in my magical barrier? Did you think just anyone could barge in if they wanted?”

“Honestly, that’s how it feels. The magic I’ve studied at the Ivory Tower is very different from your voodoo sorcery, Somnia. This is all too reliant on superstition, isn’t it?”

“Are you insulting Ideope’s daughter, runt? Do you want a curse?”

Though I didn’t know what it was, the atmosphere became increasingly tense. Could the internal feud of the cultists be an opportunity for me?

I was overloading my brain, trying to figure out how to best get through this complicated situation, when—

“Silence.”

The last person, who had been sitting quietly in the darkest corner without showing much interest in me, suddenly spoke. That single word silenced the previously noisy atmosphere instantly.

I immediately realized:

This person was the leader.

I couldn’t see his face clearly, obscured by the darkest shadow of the corner, but his presence, confidence, and the aura he gave off were significant. Was this what they called mana?

In any case, this man quieted the room in a flash, then closed his mouth again. The awkward silence stretched for a bit.

After a few throat-clears, the masked woman, who had introduced herself as the daughter of Ideope, resumed her speech.

“Hm, well, my sorcery is perfect. Without Pluto’s blessing, anyone entering the corridor would pass out. Just the fact that she endured the corridor means she’s on our side.”

“Unreliable perhaps, but undeniably, I do sense Pluto’s power strongly. Regardless, the fastest way is to ask directly. Who are you?”

The man in the black robe, probably named Anchors, directed his question at me. For a moment, my legs nearly gave out.

“I… I’m a spy infiltrated into the city.”

I pieced together the information I’d speculated from the stories of the Nymph Cultist Paranoi. There had been talk of a spy secretly working among the cultists that not everyone knew about.

Now, I had no choice but to pretend to be that spy.

It was a last-ditch effort, as either way it felt like my fate was sealed.

When the black-robed mage Anchors spoke again, “Ah, indeed. If you’re a spy, it makes sense we wouldn’t recognize you. Leader, you claimed to know the spy’s identity, correct? Is this her?”

The black-robed mage Anchors turned to speak to the man in the corner. Hell, so there was someone who knew the face of the spy. It was reasonable to expect at least one or two people would.

This was it, the end.

As I was beginning to accept my impending doom—

“….”

No sound emerged from the man seated in the corner.

“….”

Was he about to pronounce my d*ath sentence? My heart was pounding so hard, I feared it would betray me.

“The leader has nothing to say.”

“Of course, he’s just putting up an empty façade like an idiot, doing nothing. Anyway, good job coming. But what’s this ridiculous pot?”

The masked woman, likely named Somnia, the voodoo priestess, rose from her seat and began circling around me, craning her neck curiously.

“Wow, d*mn! This is a stamina potion! Incredible! Bringing such valuable things here, huh?”

[Author’s Afterword]

Kadeom san!!! Soto san!!! Mulsuigbyeol san!!! Potatoeserver san!!! Thank you so much for sending the support coupons!

I’m incredibly grateful to the anonymous donors who sent the manuscript coupons too ㅠㅠ…

I’m always joyfully accepting recommendations and comments!!

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