The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

In a disheveled alley somewhere in the western entertainment district of Lambert, the surroundings were in such chaos that it was hard to believe it was anyone’s living space.

Papers littered the floor, broken perfume bottles mingled with the scent of cosmetics, furrowing brows.

“Quite a mess,” muttered Morris, halting in front of a door.

Faint sounds of distress or cries emanated from inside, but he paid them no mind as he pushed the door open.

“What a sight, Delkia,” he remarked, observing her disheveled appearance with tangled hair and a worn-out complexion, bearing the marks of days spent in squalor.

“Morris… Why are you here?”

Delkia’s eyes, though tired, still held a flicker of life.

“There’s only one reason why a merchant would come looking for someone, isn’t there? I’ve come to make a deal.”

Seated, Morris picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor and glanced at its contents.

“I didn’t expect it to be this bad. You seem to dote quite excessively on that boy.”

“What do you know?”

“Who in this city doesn’t know about your eccentric sexual tastes? I hear you’ve been neglecting your facilities lately. And precisely since meeting that boy, Zion.”

Morris unfolded the paper, revealing a sketch of the boy.

“We don’t have much time, so let’s get to the point. Let’s make a deal, Delkia.”

“What do you want?”

“No need to be so guarded. I don’t desire the same as you. All you want is the boy’s body, isn’t it?”

Delkia didn’t deny it.

“Take everything. I only want one thing he possesses. If you give it to me, I won’t interfere with what you do with the boy.”

“Are you suggesting we collaborate?”

A mutually beneficial arrangement.

Each using the other to achieve their respective goals.

Delkia asked with uncertainty,

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’m not one for dirty work. My role is merely to provide the goods, not execute the plan.”

Morris offered her a small glass vial containing a vivid pink liquid.

“This is a top-grade paralyzing potion imported from the Garam Kingdom. A single drop can instantly paralyze a person, but harmful components that could endanger life have been magically removed. It’s purely meant to incapacitate.”

Delkia examined the vial with suspicion.

“Do you expect to feed him this?”

“I’m not in the business of testing products. My role is solely to provide. Whether or not it’s feasible is up to you, Delkia.”

Delkia glanced at Morris, opened the lid, and brought it up to her nose.

“……!”

A strong floral scent wafted up to her, and suddenly her head started spinning.

Delkia quickly removed her nose and immediately closed the lid.

“Would you like to? Delkia?”

– flinch

Her trembling eyes and quivering lips reflected the human tendency to become grotesque when desires are within reach.

Her current sinister smile was a testament to that transformation.

“Yes, it’s possible. It’s possible indeed…”

Within her flickering eyes, she saw the image of a naked boy, fallen to his lowest state.

* * *

It’s been 8 days since I arrived in Lambert.

It feels like I’ve made plenty of mistakes, yet the harvest seems lacking.

Let me think for a moment.

Why did I come here?

It’s to kill Lindsay Nihalov, the owner of Lambert’s Cage.

To achieve that, what did I do?

I participated as a fighter in the arena to draw attention on myself, hoping they would come looking for me.

However, contrary to expectations, the owner of this facility hasn’t shown any sign of recognition towards me.

Did I underestimate Lindsay?

They say people tend to have irrelevant thoughts when they’re desperate, and I seem to be in that state right now.

Kaeram, lying on the bed, was looking at me with pitiful eyes.

[Even if I were chewing on crap, I wouldn’t make that face. Have you ever looked in the mirror?]

Led by her words, my gaze naturally turned towards the mirror.

“…”

Definitely looks pathetic.

Yesterday was significant.

Well, it’s too late to blame Kaeram now.

Even if she didn’t materialize, there’s no way she didn’t hear and react to those words.

The longer I stay in this city, the worse it’ll be for me.

With a determined mind, I rose from my seat.

It’s time for a change of plans.

If they don’t come to me by now, then I’ll have to go to them.

I left the room without hesitation and headed straight to the first floor.

“Ah! Good day, Zion!”

On my way, I spotted a familiar face on the stairs.

“…?”

Dressed quite neatly, it was almost hard to recognize the little cigarette peddler who now works here.

“Are you working?”

“Yes! I was exploring around inside Cage! The manager asked me to quickly learn about the facility structure!”

Perhaps because he’s doing a proper job, his face seemed brighter.

Well, working at his age isn’t ideal, but it’s better than selling cigarettes on the streets.

“Alright, work hard. Don’t mess up and get scolded for nothing!”

“Yes! Thank you!”

I suddenly noticed the name tag pinned to his chest.

[Roy].

Come to think of it, I didn’t even know his name until now.

Looking at the direction he rushed off, it seemed like he was heading towards the arena.

Next time, I should address him by his name.

I returned to the lobby.

“Hello, I’m Lisa, a staff member at Lambert Cage! How can I assist you?”

She greeted me, playing her role as both manager and employee, as usual.

As I stood at the counter, I glanced closely at her face.

An awkward smile and a forced grin were evident at a glance. Something seemed off.

By now, I should have been accustomed to this place, yet it felt like she reverted to her initial bewildered state upon seeing me.

“Do you need anything, sir?”

she asked, undeterred.

“I wanted to meet the owner…”

I replied casually.

Her face turned pale and stiffened.

“If you mean the owner of this facility… Lindsay Nihalov?”

Her expression was undoubtedly one of astonishment.

If I didn’t suspect anything after seeing that, I’d be naive.

“Uh, are you planning to file a complaint? Is there something unsatisfactory about our facility…?”

she stuttered nervously.

“No, nothing like that. I just want to meet them personally.”

I knew it was an unreasonable request.

It’s not every day that a stranger demands a meeting with the owner, and it’s understandable that she would be taken aback.

However, her reaction wasn’t merely due to that.

It felt more like she was signaling that such a meeting should never happen.

Was she hiding something?

“Well, our owner, uh, if you want to meet them personally… it might not be possible…” she stammered.

“What do I need to do to meet them? Do I have to file a formal complaint?” I pressed.

With a sigh, she lowered her head.

“Sir, may I ask you one thing?”

Her voice suddenly turned grave.

“How much longer will you be here at Cage?”

“Why do you ask?”

I raised my head, sensing an inexplicable urgency in her demeanor.

“I’m not sure why you came here, but let me tell you this. I’ll turn a blind eye to one thing: Leave this city as soon as possible.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.

“What happens if I don’t leave?”

“You’ll die, sir.”

A silence fell over the lobby.

Though it seemed quiet on the surface, I could sense the tumult raging within her, as loud as thunder.

And I was no different.

“Me? Die?”

I uttered incredulously.

She barely managed to nod in response.

It felt like being struck in the back of the head, not with force, but with an unpleasant feeling.

And though they didn’t show it, it wasn’t just me and the manager in the lobby.

Guards, unseen before, were watching me with uneasy gazes, some even with a hint of malice.

In other words, it wasn’t a joke to be taken lightly.

Why?

Why is this happening?

Why am I being warned of death now?

Upon brief reflection, it seems there might be one of two reasons.

One is that someone perceives me as a threat and seeks to eliminate me.

It’s not a good sign for one player in the arena to wield almost dictatorial control.

While it could attract significant attention in the short term, if I persist in repeating dull matches, the arena’s popularity will quickly wane.

While it’s possible, there seems to be insufficient evidence to justify killing me for such reasons.

So, what could the second reason be?

It’s the most dangerous one for me.

Someone has become somewhat suspicious of my identity.

Yesterday’s match exposed Kaeram’s existence to a merchant.

Instead of covering it up, I gave him complete assurance.

He said no one else knew besides us, but that’s uncertain.

The owner, Lindsay, must have seen my match yesterday and might have sensed something suspicious.

However, setting aside the reasons, there’s one thing that’s most perplexing right now: this woman.

Why did this manager reveal such a secretive fact to me?

Essentially, she’s risking her life by telling me.

Or perhaps, when you only consider her face, she seems to be hoping for a disruption in the plans, isn’t she?

Why me, of all people?

“Manager, something serious has happened!”

In the increasingly tense atmosphere, a man’s urgent shout cut through.

A guide from the betting hall rushed in through the main entrance.

“W-what’s going on?” she asked, startled.

“Gunther’s gangsters are attacking the arena right now!” he blurted out, visibly shaken.

Behind the alarmed man, a sinister figure opened the blocked door, wearing a smirk as he gazed at me.

What stood out was his missing arm.

“It seems like you two were having a serious conversation. Why do your expressions look so grim?” he remarked.

As he finished his sentence, guards who had been waiting nearby emerged and immediately stood in front of him.

“What? Weren’t there just a few guards missing? They were all here?” he questioned.

“Gunther! What is the meaning of this?”

She approached him, grabbing him by the collar in her anger.

“Whoa, calm down! Let’s not be too harsh on someone who’s already lost an arm! Isn’t that right?” he replied with a mocking grin.

“Cut the nonsense and tell me! Why are you here?” she demanded, her voice trembling with rage.

His gaze shifted directly to me.

“Hey, Zion! I need another round with you.”

It seems my teachings were somewhat lacking. Instead of leaving one arm, I should have cut both.

“One arm wasn’t enough, huh?”

“Haha! Your eyes are as sharp as ever! If I don’t thoroughly chew and swallow you up, it’ll be unbearable! You seem to be under some illusion, but this isn’t a suggestion; it’s a demand. You have an obligation to fight me again!”

With a swift motion, he threw something towards me.

It was a crumpled cigarette case.

“Give it a look!” he exclaimed.

As I checked its contents, my body froze in place.

A golden object the size of a finger.

Inside the cigarette case was someone’s name tag.

[Roy]

My mind went blank for a moment.

Seeing the now familiar name, I couldn’t gauge what my reaction should be.

I looked up again and asked,

“What did you do?”

“Your expression is intriguing, isn’t it? It’s nothing special! I just thought, in case you don’t want to fight barehanded, I’d prepare a little gift. Do you like it?”

Did he ask if I liked it?

I couldn’t fathom his intentions, but strangely, this was the only way I could interpret his words.

Is he asking me to kill him?