Chapter 13

The hunt using Baskervill was proceeding very smoothly.

No matter how nimble the rats were, Baskervill was born as the top predator of Hell, the Hellhound, the guardian beast of Hell.

Its vision was not hindered by darkness, its sense of smell could detect beings even from afar, and its legs could tirelessly chase down its prey endlessly.

Additionally, it had resistance to pollution and poison, so without a controller, its feeding would continue endlessly until its hunger was satisfied.

“Baskervill, it’s troublesome if you go too far. Please maintain your distance from me.”

-*Cough*.

Baskervill, suppressing its instincts and adjusting its speed at my words.

I collected the tails left behind by Baskervill and packed them into my backpack.

Given its size, the thickness of the tails was no ordinary matter.

If I were to braid the tails and stretch them out, they would rival ropes. Such tails filled my backpack, and a heavy weight settled on my shoulders.

“I should have brought a bigger backpack.”

If only I could use spatial magic, I wouldn’t be constrained by weight or volume, but alas, I have no talent in that area.

Of course, using magical tools is an option, but coincidentally, such items are of immense value in this world.

To earn money by farming, but to farm efficiently, I need money—what a cruel dilemma.

-*Whoosh*.

As I pondered such trivial thoughts and continued through the sewer, I soon arrived at a large area where water poured from all sides.

Being the empire’s greatest city, the scale of the sewer was considerable.

The countless passages scattered throughout meant that if you didn’t memorize your path, getting lost wouldn’t be surprising.

“It couldn’t have been easy to construct this… Hmm?”

Such musings were short-lived.

Suddenly, I felt something hard under my foot, picked it up, and quietly examined its appearance.

Though stained here and there, its overall color was white. Hard on the outside but hollow inside, making it very light, and its appearance was strangely unfamiliar.

I knew immediately. This was a bone… and not just any bone, but a human bone, not one of the countless rat bones scattered in the sewer.

“Did it drift in from outside, or is it from someone who got lost here?”

Perhaps someone dumped a corpse in the river. In places like back alleys, people killing people isn’t uncommon.

For whatever reason, there are plenty of reasons why bones might roll around in this underground.

Feeling a sense of bitterness, I stood the bone on the ground and quietly clasped my hands in prayer.

“May your soul rest in heaven.”

It was a sincere prayer.

Souls that fall into Hell lose their reason and become wandering spirits, used as playthings by demons until they vanish.

Though I’ve never been to heaven and don’t know much about it… Well, with a name like heaven, it must be better than Hell.

“Ahhh!”

Just as I finished my prayer and was about to leave, a scream echoed from a passage connected to this area.

A human scream, not a rat’s.

-*Cough*!!

Hearing this, Baskervill immediately dashed towards the passage, and I, feeling anxious, hurriedly followed.

“Baskervill, stop!”

If it encounters people before its hunger is fully sated, it might turn its appetite towards them.

Despite my worried call, Baskervill couldn’t control itself, excited by the fresh prey.

No choice. I kicked off the wall, leaped, and swung my fist at Baskervill’s head.

**”Hah!!”**

*Bang!*

With a loud noise, Baskervill collapsed to the ground.

Having stopped Baskervill, I warned it again as it lay whimpering on the floor.

“Baskervill, as I said before, you must not eat people without my orders.”

-*Whimper*…

“…First, make yourself smaller.”

If there are people ahead, we can’t show Baskervill’s true form.

With Baskervill now smaller, we proceeded deeper into the passage, where we encountered a fierce battle unfolding.

“Damn it, there are too many of them!!”

“Eek, we’re all going to die. We’re going to die!!”

“Damn it, instead of screaming, swing your weapons! If we get surrounded, we’re really dead!!”

People frantically swinging their weapons, and a multitude of shadows closing in on them.

I focused on the attackers’ appearances and observed the situation.

They weren’t the same beasts as the rats I’d been hunting. They had limbs, walked on two legs, and their bodies were wrapped in something like bandages.

But their appearance was far from that of a complete human or Ain.

Bones formed their framework, with filth plastered on to create flesh—these were the so-called ‘Undead.’

A spell used by demons to control fallen spirits in Hell, and a creation of humans using what they call black magic—’living corpses.’

“Undead appearing in a place filled with unclaimed corpses…”

Usually, undead require a spellcaster to control them.

Naturally, the current situation is too unnatural to be a coincidence, and the armaments of those fighting them seemed excessive for mere rat hunting.

This implies that they came to this underground to exterminate the undead or investigate related phenomena.

“This smells like money.”

To gather more information, I needed to hear what they had to say.

Judging so, I quickly closed the distance and drew the knife and fork from my pouch.

Though they were cheap utensils, hardly weapons, they would suffice to stop them.

-*Swish*!!!

Throwing the utensils at the undead, I focused on where they landed.

Two undead fell. The utensils had struck their chests.

“The weak point is the chest… Classic.”

Undead are powered by a magical core within them.

Unless they’ve reached a level where they can place their core outside, like a Lich, destroying the internal core easily stops them.

“W-what!? What just…?”

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Intervening between the undead and the fighters, I prepared to aim my knife and fork at the approaching undead.

-*Growl*…

An undead, sensing my presence, groaned and approached.

Despite being made of filth, its bandage-wrapped, swollen chest indicated it took the form of a female.

The other undead were also…

Though there were minor differences, they were all female. Was there a reason for this?

-*Roar*!!

No, speculation can wait.

I dodged the undead’s attack and threw my utensils into the opening.

*Thud, thud!* As the utensils struck their chests, the undead collapsed.

Pulling the utensils from the fallen undead, I effortlessly dodged the incoming attacks and prepared for the next move.

Knowing the core’s location makes it easy to take them down.

Their bodies are slow, making them easy to handle.

Of course, depending on the caster’s skill, handling undead can be tricky, but without the caster’s commands, undead act on simple instincts.

And from what I felt while fighting, these undead were not under a caster’s control.

Such undead unconsciously follow traces of their past lives, driven by a desire to consume the living to feel life.

Thus, by presenting the weak point, their actions can be naturally guided.

-*Slash*!!

Guiding their actions, I mercilessly cut down the undead, and in the ensuing silence, I retrieved my utensils from the corpses.

Though they looked decent, being made of filth, the utensils were in a sorry state.

I’ll need to sterilize them after this, I thought, shaking off the filth and glancing at the group watching me.

“Is everyone alright?”

“W-who are you?”

The group, showing wariness.

I maintained a gentle demeanor, not showing any signs of hostility.

Even if I saved them, trusting someone who suddenly appeared was unlikely.

“Don’t worry too much. I’m just a rookie fixer who took a job to exterminate rats and ended up here.”

“…A rookie?”

“Seeing this should help you understand.”

The bundle of rat tails stuffed in my backpack.

Even after seeing that, their wariness didn’t fade, and their gazes began to show hostility.

“…With that kind of skill, you’re just catching rats?”

“I haven’t been in this city long, and I just became a fixer. Listening to the seniors, rookie fixers should take low-grade jobs to build trust… I guess I got too into rat hunting and ended up deeper than I thought.”

As additional proof, I showed my rookie fixer’s badge, which they scrutinized with hardened eyes.

After exchanging glances and nodding, they relaxed and sheathed their weapons.

“Well, whatever. We owe you for saving us. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. In tough times, we help each other out.”

“Haha, helping each other in tough times… If only other fixers were like you.”

The group’s leader muttered regretfully.

I directly asked him about their mission.

“From the looks of it, you’re fixers who took a job to come here. If it’s alright, could you tell me what job you took?”

“…Let’s move to a safer place first. Staying here might attract more undead.”

“That sounds good.”

After moving to a safer location, the leader sighed in relief and introduced himself.

“Sorry for the late introduction. We’re fixers from the Dietrich Office. I’m Ivan Dietrich, the office’s director.”

“I’m Sebastian, a butler and rookie fixer.”

“A butler doing fixer work?”

“I need quick cash. Mr. Ivan, you run an office, so do you operate separately from the association?”

“Yeah, going to the association for jobs means fierce competition. Running an office is better for getting direct commissions.”

I see. Stable income comes from setting up an office.

As I pondered this useful information, Ivan sighed deeply and continued.

“But this job has a lot of issues with the client. We thought it’d be a couple of undead, but suddenly dozens attacked us…”

“Who was the client?”

“A filthy rich noble. He offered a lot of money just to track some traces.”

“Traces of what?”

“His daughter turned into an undead somewhere.”

“…Tell me more.”

“The noble had a daughter who died in an accident about a year ago. Her body was cremated and enshrined in a columbarium, but someone recently stole it and fled. Then, reports came in that his daughter’s corpse was seen moving around in the middle of the street…”

Following the trail led them into the sewer, where they were suddenly swarmed by undead.

Their armaments were indeed not for rat hunting, but insufficient for dealing with a horde of undead.

Given that no warnings had come from the city, the undead infestation underground must not yet be public knowledge.

“Sigh, this is a mess. When I heard the stolen remains turned into undead, I thought someone with a grudge against the noble was playing a prank… But I never expected it to escalate like this.”

Ivan, having just realized the situation, looked exasperated.

I asked him a question, just in case.

“What do you think about this, Mr. Ivan?”

“What do I think? Some cultists must have gathered corpses and started mass-producing undead. And if that’s the case, it’s beyond what a single office can handle.”

“If it’s beyond your capacity… So, your office is withdrawing from this job?”

“Yeah, I plan to report it to the association and leave it to high-grade fixers or the security forces…”

“Could you hold off on that report for a bit?”

“…What?”

Ivan looked puzzled at my words.

Then, as if guessing my intent, he asked in a dry tone.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to go in there?”

“As I said, I’m in need of money.”

An undead commotion in the city’s underground.

It reeks of money—why wouldn’t I go?

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