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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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Chapter 303
In Neo Seoul, nothing went to waste.
Resources, Magic Stones, and even sewage, filth, and trash were all funneled into resource recovery facilities for recycling.
The only thing that wasn’t recycled was human corpses.
Everything else that could be repurposed was sent to the resource recovery facilities.
Naturally, these facilities were located deep underground in Neo Seoul.
Even with the world in ruins, people still didn’t want to see unpleasant structures in plain sight.
The scale of Neo Seoul’s resource recovery facilities was staggering.
Entire underground spaces large enough to fit massive buildings were dedicated to them.
Most of the city’s trash and wastewater were reborn as useful materials through these facilities. Yet, despite their efforts, some wastewater was beyond recovery.
This highly polluted wastewater was discharged into the slums’ underground sewer system.
The toxic sewage seeped deep into the slum’s underground, its stench so overpowering that even the residents of the slums avoided venturing below unless absolutely necessary.
There were entrances to the underground sewers in the slums.
Each entrance was blocked by iron bars as thick as an adult’s forearm.
This made it nearly impossible for the average person to enter the sewers, and most wouldn’t want to anyway.
People rarely gave thought to what existed within the sewers or what might happen there.
But people lived there, too.
Those who couldn’t even afford a single room in the slums had no choice but to descend into the sewers in search of shelter.
At first, only a handful of people lived there.
But as time passed, more and more individuals found their way into the sewers.
Each had their own story.
Some were murderers who had killed the people tormenting them. Others had killed simply to get something to eat. And some had never had a choice in the first place.
Different tales and tragedies converged in the sewers, where they grew into a community.
They called themselves the Crocodiles.
Like crocodiles dwelling in the depths of a swamp, they were doomed to live their entire lives in Neo Seoul’s underbelly.
One of these Crocodiles was a boy with striking red hair and freckles named Zetoia.
He grumbled as he walked along the stinking sewer path.
“Damn it! ‘Find something useful,’ they said. What kind of bullshit is that?”
Despite the foul stench wafting from the sewage beside him, he walked on without flinching.
He was born a Crocodile in this place.
Having perfectly adapted to the environment, such smells had no effect on him.
In fact, most children born here were in the same condition as Zetoia, both their sense of smell and sight were severely diminished.
In exchange, their hearing and tactile senses were developed to an extraordinary degree, much like a bat’s.
Zetoia’s sharp ears could pick up even the faintest of sounds in the darkness.
Drip. Drip.
The sound of water dripping from the ceiling reached him.
Every three seconds, a single droplet fell.
This was his marker.
At this point, he needed to turn into the sewer path on the right.
The slum’s underground sewer system had been constructed in Neo Seoul’s early days. However, as more and more Crocodiles gathered, they expanded it themselves, turning it into a complex maze reminiscent of an anthill.
Even the original engineers who had built the sewer would lose their way if they came down now. They’d wander until they starved to death.
The labyrinth was so intricate that even Zetoia, who had been born and raised here, couldn’t fully map it in his mind. However, he had memorized every detail of the areas he frequented.
One of his methods for navigating the sewer was by tracking the rhythm of water droplets falling from the ceiling.
Curiously, there wasn’t a single spot in the sewer where the droplets fell at the same rate.
In one place, three drops fell per second, while in another, ten drops fell in the same time.
Zetoia remembered all these variations and used them to find his way.
Because of this, he was often called the best pathfinder among the Crocodiles.
As he trudged through the dark sewer, Zetoia’s expression was grim.
He hadn’t managed to gather anything for today’s tribute.
He belonged to the Red Horn Crocodile Crew.
Calling it a “crew” made it sound grander than it was, it was really just a group of kids around Zetoia’s age banding together for survival.
Initially, the crew had formed as a way for orphans to protect one another. But as time passed, hierarchies emerged within the group.
Zetoia’s rank was near the bottom.
He hadn’t always been this low in the pecking order. Though he was relatively young compared to some, he had been part of the Red Horn Crocodiles since the very beginning.
The problem began when a boy named Kojiya, who had always clashed with Zetoia, suddenly Awakened.
Kojiya Awakened as an F-rank martial type.
Among Awakened, F-rank was barely worth mentioning. But among children who had yet to fully mature, it was like being an S-rank.
No one in the Red Horn Crocodile Crew could hope to defeat him in a fight.
Kojiya became the leader of the crew.
From that point on, he began to isolate Zetoia.
He wanted to get rid of any obstacles to his rule, and Zetoia was a threat to his authority.
Every time Kojiya sent him out, it was under some ridiculous pretext.
“Something useful? Damn it! There’s nothing useful down here in the sewers.”
The water flowing through the sewers had turned into sludge.
The sticky, clumpy substance clung to anything that touched it, like vines.
But Zetoia had no choice but to follow Kojiya’s orders.
If he returned empty-handed, he would face merciless beatings. So he had to find ‘something’, even if it was useless junk.
Finally, Zetoia reached his destination.
It was a massive reservoir where Neo Seoul’s wastewater first collected.
The sheer size of it reminded Zetoia of a lake.
Of course, he had never seen a real lake before.
The reservoir was filled with semi-solid sludge.
No one in the Crocodiles’ den dared to enter this place.
It was the ultimate cesspool of pollution.
Even Awakened would feel their minds clouding from the overwhelming toxins emanating from the sludge.
Stripping off his clothes, Zetoia dove into the sludge without hesitation.
This was Zetoia’s secret.
He had been born completely adapted to this hellish environment.
Even the concentrated toxins of the sludge had no effect on him.
He swam through the sludge as if it were water, scouring the bottom for anything he could use.
But there was nothing.
Eventually, Zetoia emerged from the sludge, empty-handed.
“Damn it! If I go back like this, I’ll get beaten to a pulp. Guess I’ve got no choice.”
Quickly resigning to his fate was another survival skill in this place.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Zetoia put his clothes back on and headed toward the Red Horn Crocodile Crew’s base.
Each step felt heavier, knowing he was returning empty-handed. But he couldn’t just not return.
If he were expelled from the Red Horn Crocodiles, he would become prey for the other Crocodiles.
As sad as it was to endure beatings just to avoid death, that was simply the way things were here.
“Damn it!”
Just as Zetoia was nearing the Red Horn Crocodiles’ base, he let out a long sigh.
“Argh!”
“P-please, spare me!”
From deeper within, screams and desperate pleas echoed.
‘What the hell?’
Sensing something was off, Zetoia cautiously peeked inside.
‘Gasp!’
The sight made him nearly cry out.
A massacre was underway inside the base.
Strange men Zetoia had never seen before were slaughtering the Red Horn Crocodiles without hesitation.
Kojiya, who had proudly declared himself the crew’s leader, was already dead, his severed head rolling across the floor.
The men continued their rampage, killing the children as they laughed and spoke casually.
“Damn it! What’s with this smell?”
“Do you think they’ve ever bathed in their lives? Of course, they stink.”
“The stench is ingrained in their bodies. We can’t even sell them as slaves.”
“The Spider Queen wanted pure humans. If we bring her these polluted brats, she’ll probably kill us instead.”
The men were none other than the Helbrin Mercenaries.
Having survived Zeon’s assault, the remaining mercenaries regrouped near Neo Seoul.
Contrary to Zeon’s expectations, their refuge wasn’t in the slums but in the underground Crocodiles’ den.
The Red Horn Crocodiles’ base was their easiest target.
“Ahhh!”
“Please, let me live! I don’t want to die like this!”
The children wept and begged for mercy, but the Helbrin Mercenaries showed no hesitation as they killed them one by one.
“Ugh!”
Hiding nearby, Zetoia accidentally let out a hiccup.
Although he immediately covered his mouth, it was too late.
Even amidst the chaos, Hassim heard the sound.
“There’s a rat outside.”
The moment Zetoia heard his voice, he bolted.
‘Shit! Shit!’
The Awakened mercenaries pursued him at terrifying speed.
As expert hunters of men, they closed the distance with alarming ease.
Zetoia quickly realized there was no way to shake them off in the sewers.
‘I have to get to the surface.’
* * *
Knock, knock.
The sound of a polite knock echoed as Zeon opened the door.
Standing outside was an elf.
“Borin?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you so late, Lord Zeon!”
The elf at the door was none other than Borin.
Zeon frowned slightly.
“What brings you here at this hour?”
“May I come in and speak with you?”
At her request, Zeon opened the door without hesitation.
“Come in.”
“Thank you.”
“Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
Borin didn’t decline and sat in the seat Zeon offered.
As Zeon picked up a kettle, he asked.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
When Borin declined, Zeon poured water into his own cup instead.
“It seems like you’re here about something urgent.”
“Yes. I’m sorry for imposing, but I’ve come to ask you for a favor.”
“A favor?”
“Yes.”
Borin bit her lip hesitantly.
She had agonized over this decision before coming here.
As the leader of the Blue Leaf Special Forces, her position carried significant weight in the Northern District.
Though she wasn’t on the same level as Eli, the district’s second-in-command, there was virtually nothing in the Northern District that Borin couldn’t handle if she set her mind to it.
Yet even for her, Zeon was an intimidating figure.
She had already suffered at his hands once and witnessed his overwhelming divine power when he fought the demon Balrog.
Zeon was like a sandstorm.
Once unleashed, he would leave nothing but destruction in his wake.
Even so, Borin had no other choice. Zeon was her only option.
Zeon’s calm gaze bore into her, and she resisted the urge to look away. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to meet his eyes.
After taking a sip of water, Zeon placed his cup down.
“All right. What is it you’re asking for?”
“Please… help the Northern District.”
“The Northern District?”
“Yes. The Northern District desperately needs your help.”
“Does this have to do with the Spider Queen?”
Zeon’s insight was sharp. He had been the one to identify Romina, the elf by Eli’s side, and inform Borin.
It was only natural for him to suspect that this matter was connected to Eliya.
Borin nodded and said.
“Yes, that’s correct. We’ve discovered signs of rebellion from the Spider Queen, Eli.”
“A rebellion? That’s quite the scale. But what does that have to do with me?”
“Pardon?”
“Isn’t this something the Northern District can handle on its own? I don’t understand why you’d seek help from an outsider like me.”
Eli was strong.
Her strength and abilities were befitting of the Northern District’s second-in-command. However, she couldn’t compare to Serian.
That was why she had remained second-in-command for over a century. Serian had the Northern District completely under his control.
Even if Eli were planning a rebellion, the odds of her succeeding were slim. So why was Borin here?
Borin explained.
“We can contain Eli within the Northern District. The problem is the outsiders she’s allied with.”
“Outsiders?”
“Yes. She’s been in contact with people from outside the district. We need you to track them down, Lord Zeon.”
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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