Even in the morning, dusk falls on the underground city of Atman.
What illuminated the morning of Atman, where the sun never rises, was not sunlight but lamps fueled by minerals, and the light emitted by these minerals was the color of sunset. Thus, Atman was always dyed in the hues of dusk.
Those who had forgotten the sunlight often reminisced about the sun through the artificial sunset glow of the mineral lamps.
Of course, this didn't apply to the boy walking down the street now. Born in the underground city and never having experienced the outside, the boy had never seen the sun.
"Letter delivery!"
Early morning, a street dyed in sunset hues.
The boy in a postal worker's uniform, Zarin, was knocking on the door of a tavern. While a postman's virtue would be to simply leave the letter and move on if the owner didn't come out, the boy persistently knocked on the tavern door.
"Damn it, who is it!"
Finally, a man who couldn't stand it any longer flung the door open. He grabbed the postal worker standing at the door by the collar and lifted him up.
"Hey, you bastard, you should just leave it and go, don't you have any sense...?"
The man's words didn't continue to the end.
The boy whose collar he had grabbed slightly lifted his postman's cap, which he had pulled down tightly, revealing his face. The moment the man's eyes met Zarin's, his face froze.
"Karvin."
Zarin called the man's name.
The boy smiled as he looked at Karvin.
"Is Trixie inside?"
"...Why are you looking for Brother Trixie?"
"A letter came from Jivan. For Trixie."
"..."
Karvin silently shifted his gaze to the inside of the shop. After briefly exchanging glances with his boss sitting there, Karvin sighed deeply and released Zarin's collar.
"The boss says to come in."
"Oh. Do you have something to drink? My throat is a bit dry."
"...Tsk."
Despite clicking his tongue, Karvin headed to the kitchen. While he went to fetch water, Zarin entered the tavern with a casual stride. The tavern was filled with men, each with at least one blade tucked at their waist.
Roughly seven or eight of them.
Despite receiving sharp glances from all of them, Zarin leisurely walked to the center of the tavern. He plopped down on the guest sofa placed there.
"Nice sofa, Trixie."
"It's a luxury item I spent good money on."
The one who responded to Zarin's murmur was a middle-aged man sitting opposite him. Trixie, as the man was called, narrowed his eyes while swirling his drink.
"So what brings you here, Zarin?"
"I told you already, Trixie."
Zarin put his hand inside his coat. At that moment, the men glaring at Zarin flinched slightly. Glancing at their hands moving toward the blades tied at their waists, Zarin smiled wryly.
"A letter came from Jivan."
What he took out from inside his coat was a letter.
As if telling them to relax, Zarin waved the letter in his hand in front of them. However, their wariness remained. Everyone in this place knew that the boy was only posing as a postal worker.
The underground city, Atman.
This city, which was like a lawless zone with only minimal laws, was ruled by three powerful figures, one of whom was a man called One-Eyed Jivan. And the boy in front of them was a figure that anyone belonging to Jivan's family would recognize.
"Trixie."
Since Trixie was also a member of Jivan's organization, he knew well what kind of entity this boy was who so casually mentioned Jivan's name.
"I told you to just take a little bite without being noticed, didn't I?"
Jivan's right-hand man.
"This time you went too far."
The organization's collector.
"Taking children and cutting open their bellies to sell parts isn't right, is it? You know what Jivan hates the most. You've crossed the line."
The organization's executioner disguised as a postal worker.
Jivan's hound.
The boy called by these names, Zarin, sighed and tapped the table with his finger. Glancing at this sight, Trixie clicked his tongue.
'This arrogant little brat...'
Though not as much as Jivan, he was a merchant whose name was quite known in these parts. He also held a high position in the organization. He couldn't feel good about a boy who treated him so arrogantly.
But he couldn't voice that fact.
The boy was sitting in front of him as Jivan's proxy, and he had the skills to back it up. Trixie moistened his throat with alcohol and spoke.
"So what do you want to say?"
"I just wanted to ask. Why did you do it?"
"For a merchant, there's only one reason. I did it because I thought I could make more money that way."
"That's the only reason?"
"Do I need another reason?"
Trixie shrugged.
"You'll understand when you grow up, kid. When an easy path appears before you, people tend to take it. When you can make gold coins pour out just by capturing and cutting open a few kids, what reason is there not to do it?"
"You know that if you rush in headfirst just because it looks easy, you might lose your ankle, right?"
"You never lose an argument, do you?"
"That's how Jivan taught me."
With a thud.
Trixie placed the glass in his hand down on the table. The ice in the glass made a rattling sound. He was tired of trading glances. It was time to get to the point.
"So what did Brother Jivan say?"
"Shall I read it to you?"
"That would be good."
Trixie gave a nod.
Zarin cleared his throat as he opened the letter.
"Trixie."
Zarin's lips moved.
"Your three chances are over."
An ultimatum.
"..."
The words that would follow didn't need to be heard to be understood. Therefore, Trixie gave a signal with his eyes. At that moment, the subordinates surrounding Zarin drew their blades from their waists. Karvin, who had gone to fetch water as an excuse, opened the back door of the tavern.
Creeak.
Through the door he had opened, five men entered the tavern. Large blades were held in their hands. Glancing at them, Zarin continued speaking.
"Return all the money you earned. Out of consideration for our past relationship, I'll let you live... That's what it says, so what will you do, Trixie?"
"Isn't it obvious just by looking?"
Trixie made a hand gesture.
With a click, both the back and front doors of the tavern were firmly locked. The intention was clear. They had preemptively cut off Zarin's escape routes.
"Oh."
Zarin stuck out his tongue.
The number of Trixie's subordinates surrounding him right now was a whopping thirteen. Letting their grim gazes slide off him, Zarin let out a hollow laugh.
"Trixie, do you have something you're relying on? Pointing a knife at me is the same as pointing it at Jivan."
"I've found a better boss than Jivan, who sets unnecessary rules."
"The Twilight Horsé? The drug dealer Hakan?"
The remaining two powerful figures who ruled the underground city.
Trixie didn't bother to answer who he had aligned himself with. Instead of answering, he just smiled as if it were a pity.
"Too bad for you, Zarin."
"Yes, really..."
The moment Zarin put down the letter.
All thirteen rushed toward Zarin simultaneously. Looking at the blades gleaming under the cheap lighting of the tavern, Zarin exhaled deeply.
"I regret this, Trixie."
Zarin's foot moved.
Bang!
Zarin kicked upward the table that was placed between him and Trixie. The glasses on the table shattered, and water droplets splashed in all directions.
The table floating in the air.
Water droplets reflecting the light.
For a moment, Trixie's gaze was drawn to them. Trixie heard it. A chilling slicing sound. The sound of something heavy falling to the floor with a thud along with the table. The scream followed belatedly.
"Hu, huaaaaaagh!"
The table that had risen and then fallen. What fell with that table was someone's arm. A subordinate with one arm severed screamed.
That scream didn't continue for long.
With a thwack, Zarin's kick caved in the face of the screaming man. With his head thrown back, one subordinate fell with a thud. In an instant, one person had fallen. Twelve remained.
"Atta, attack!"
"Damn, this brat...!"
"Charge!"
The subordinates who had retreated at the sudden sight of the floating table now rushed toward Zarin again. His eyes were fixed on Trixie, who was slowly backing away.
"Trixie."
Zarin smiled.
"If you run, it won't end with just you."
Jivan's hound bared his teeth.
==
The lamp hanging from the tavern ceiling swayed precariously. Every time the lamp swayed and the shadow flickered once, screams echoed. Screams. Loud footsteps. The sound of something shattering and breaking.
"Kyaaaaaaaaaagh!"
"This crazy bastard...!"
Blood sprayed in long streaks.
The spraying blood dyed the tavern tables, bottles, and windows a dark red. Amid the vibrating smell of blood and screams, Trixie's eyes wavered.
Every time he blinked, someone fell.
Severed arms and legs were strewn messily all around. Zarin's knee struck the faces and jaws of those who charged even with their arms cut off. Zarin's movements between the falling subordinates were uncanny to the point of being chilling.
He slips through the blades swung at him as if sliding. Taking a light step, Zarin's raised foot struck down on a subordinate's knee.
Crack!
With a chilling sound, the subordinate's knee bent backward. Zarin's knee struck the face of the man who was falling while screaming. Before the head of the fallen subordinate who rolled his eyes backward could even hit the ground with a thud.
Slash.
The arm of a subordinate who had rushed at Zarin, looking for an opening, flew through the air. Through the spraying blood, the figure of Zarin already swinging his sword could be seen. Immediately after, Zarin kicked the ground with a bang and charged.
All those movements were uncanny.
Fast, too fast.
He had thought the rumors were exaggerated, but it was the opposite. As the number of fallen subordinates exceeded half, Trixie felt cold sweat running down his spine.
'Insane.'
Trixie backed away.
There were thirteen of them. A whole thirteen, for heaven's sake. He had heard rumors that this kid Zarin was a monster, but he still thought that with this many, they could handle one like him.
Thirteen, half of whom were members sent by the Twilight. They were skilled knife-wielders who had been eating sword rice for years by the Twilight Horsé's side. Yet they were falling after just one or two exchanges.
'I was mistaken.'
Now he had to admit it.
That his calculations were wrong. That this kid was more of a monster than he had thought. Trixie, who had been backing away, finally turned his body completely and ran toward the door.
But, click.
No matter how much he grabbed and turned the doorknob, the door wouldn't open. The door that had been locked a moment ago to prevent the intruder from escaping. That door was now holding the fleeing tavern owner.
"Damn...!"
Trixie cursed and fumbled at his waist. Just as he was about to place the key he had managed to extract into the doorknob.
Wham!
Something smashed right next to Trixie. Standing still, Trixie slowly turned his head to the side. There was the face of a subordinate he cherished. Not a member sent by the Twilight, but his own subordinate, Karvin.
With his forehead split and bleeding, Karvin's eyes met Trixie's. Trixie slowly turned around. There stood Jivan's hound.
"I told you that if you run, it won't end with just you. Do I really have to mention your son and wife by name?"
"You bastard..."
The perpetrator who had smashed Karvin's head against the door.
Zarin, who was still gripping Karvin's head with one hand, looked at Trixie with tired eyes. Trixie's gaze went past Zarin's shoulder.
"Uuuurgh..."
"Gu, gulp..."
No one was standing.
But no one was dead either.
Those sprawled on the ground groaning were all still alive, even if they had become half-crippled. But Trixie instinctively realized that he couldn't be the same.
The boy in front of him is Jivan's proxy. And Jivan never spared the leader.
He was the leader here, so he couldn't escape responsibility. A hollow laugh escaped from the corner of Trixie's mouth as he sensed death. Trixie, whose legs had lost strength, slumped down with his back against the door.
"..."
Zarin, who had been looking down at Trixie, pulled the hair of Karvin, whose head he had smashed against the door. Zarin tapped the cheek of Karvin, who was groaning with pieces of broken wood embedded in his face.
"Karvin."
Meeting the terrified Karvin's gaze, Zarin spoke briefly.
"I told you I was thirsty."
Karvin nodded vigorously.
When Zarin released him, Karvin limped, this time truly going to get water from a corner of the tavern.
"Huff..."
Exhaling deeply, Zarin brushed back his hair. Wiping his blood-stained face with his sleeve, Zarin bent his knees to match eye level with Trixie.
"Why do you make things troublesome by doing impossible things? Trixie, you weren't someone who couldn't calculate like this before."
"Kuk, khuhuuk..."
Trixie let out a wry laugh.
"Crazy bastard. Normally, one would calculate that if thirteen people are gathered, they could handle one like you."
"Even if the opponent is Jivan?"
"That monster-like man is an exception."
"Then you should have made an exception for me too."
Trixie burst into laughter.
What kind of man is Jivan, who dominates this underground city? Jivan was a knight who made a name for himself in the upper town in the past. Unlike the riffraff, he was a master among masters who could draw out sword energy.
Looking at the young boy who was telling him to place himself on the same level as such a master, Trixie couldn't help but laugh.
However, at the same time.
Trixie couldn't completely deny Zarin's words.
The boy before him had an uncanny martial talent. If he received proper education, he would clearly be a genius with a shining talent that could reach high places.
'But.'
This is the underground city of Atman.
No matter how outstanding the talent, those who are abandoned here or born here can never leave this city.
Therefore.
In this city, talent is nothing but a laughingstock.
"Kukuk, Zarin."
Trixie, sensing his own death, chose to mock rather than plead for his life. With a sneer on his lips, Trixie opened his mouth. Moving his trembling jaw, he uttered mockery.
"You will spend your entire life here... Kuk!"
Those words didn't continue to the end.
The reason was that Zarin's blade had pierced Trixie's neck. Trixie, who was making suppressed breathing sounds like "Kuk, Kuhuk" with his throat blocked by blood, fell sideways.
Gurgling blood soaked the tavern floor.
Only when Trixie's movements stopped did Zarin pull out the sword embedded in the corpse's neck.
"I know, Trixie."
Muttering this, Zarin slowly rose. Turning around, there was Karvin, extending a glass of water to him with trembling hands. Zarin nodded at Karvin.
"Ye, yes...?"
"Take a sip first."
Karvin hurriedly drank the water.
Zarin frowned at Karvin, who had emptied almost half the glass when told to take just one sip. Seems like there's no poison.
"Thank you, Karvin."
Zarin snatched the glass before Karvin could down it all. Sipping the remaining water, Zarin looked around.
"It would be good to clean up by the end of today. Since Jivan doesn't seem to want this shop to close... Clean it up neatly and you can take over."
"Me, you mean?"
"That's why I didn't cut off your arm."
Zarin tapped Karvin's arm lightly with the back of his sword. Karvin's eyes wavered greatly. In this place where everyone else had become half-crippled, only Karvin had all his limbs intact.
"The 'clean-up' I'm talking about includes the money earned through nonsense, as well as the relationship with the Twilight Horsé. Don't make me do the job twice, Karvin."
The Twilight Horsé.
Although Trixie didn't say which side he had aligned with, Zarin seemed to already know who it was. Karvin swallowed dryly and nodded.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Yes, please do."
Zarin rose from his seat, looking tired.
Only after he opened the door and went outside did Karvin, his legs giving out, slump down in his seat. It felt like a storm had swept through.