Spy Action

I was hauled off to the Underground Storehouse without much ceremony.

They forced me into a chair, pinning my shoulders down while a gang of Doem Faction prisoners circled me like vultures. Maximilian stood right in front of me, looming over my seat.

"So..."

He looked down at me with ice in his eyes.

"We found five corpses with holes through their chests in here this morning. Know anything about that?"

The floor was still stained with blood. Very subtle.

"I-I don't know anything! I swear! It’s the truth!"

"Then what were you doing last night? Weren't you supposed to drug the princess?"

Ah, so he’s in the loop on that part, too.

"I was definitely ordered to kidnap her. But... I just couldn't do it..."

"In other words, you got cold feet and bolted."

Maximilian’s gaze sharpened.

"Tell me, how does a coward like that have the nerve to stroll through the Detention Center courtyard in broad daylight? Normally, someone in your shoes would be cowering in a corner, wouldn't they?"

"Huh...?"

Wait... he’s right!

It made zero sense for a mob character who’d been threatened into a kidnapping plot—and then failed—to be walking around the courtyard like he owned the place.

Maximilian, you’re sharper than you look.

"T-That's not it! I was just really scared..."

"You didn't look scared to me. At least, not until we showed up. Tell me everything you know."

Maximilian drew a knife. The lamp light glinted off the sharp edge of the blade.

I see. It looks like my cover has officially blown.

Fine then. Guess I’ll have to kill them all.

I was just about to prep my slime and enter Shadow Mode when—I felt her presence. Someone was entering the storehouse.

A heartbeat later, the lamp went out, plunging us into darkness.

"Who’s there?!"

And then, she descended.

Clad in a jet-black bodysuit, she launched a surprise attack on Maximilian with her slime sword.

"Kuh...!"

Maximilian’s reflexes were actually pretty impressive. He spun around instantly, parrying the slash as he leaped back to create some distance.

He didn't get away unscathed, though. Blood was already beginning to ooze from his shoulder.

"You... don't tell me... Owl? To think you were a woman."

She didn’t bother answering. Several Doem Faction prisoners were already sprawled on the floor at her feet. Damn, she’s actually improved her skills quite a bit.

"Hmph. Well, this saves me the trouble of finding you..."

Maximilian pulled a sword out of a nearby wooden crate and unsheathed it. He settled into a light stance, his eyes locked on her. Yeah, definitely looks like he can hold his own.

"...Surround her."

One by one, the remaining prisoners drew their blades and began to encircle her.

If they were holding guns instead of swords, this would be a perfect scene from a spy movie. Now then, let's see how this plays out.

I watched with bated breath.

Then, Maximilian made his move.

He closed the distance in a flash, delivering a sharp, sweeping horizontal slash.

But the blade didn't touch her. She drifted back half a step to evade the strike, then sliced through another prisoner who tried to ambush her from the side.

Maximilian lunged for the opening.

His swordsmanship was sharp and precise. He was a logical fighter—one who avoided unnecessary risks and stuck to a disciplined, calculated style. I was actually surprised; I hadn't expected to see this kind of technical proficiency in the Oriana Kingdom.

See, in this country, spellswords are generally looked down upon. Most of the local practitioners are either low-born commoners or foreign mercenaries.

So, what do the high-society types do? They become sword dancers.

What is a sword dancer, you ask? It’s exactly what it sounds like: you dance while swinging a sword. If you imagine figure skating with a lethal weapon, you’ve basically got it. In the Land of the Arts, these sword dancers perform their routines and victory is decided based on the beauty of the performance.

Needless to say, they’re useless in a real fight.

Apparently, their ideology dictates that beauty and strength are one and the same. I mean, I kind of get what they're going for, but I think their definition of 'beauty' is heading in the wrong direction.

But hey, whatever.

That’s why Maximilian’s style caught me off guard. It was incredibly rational. It certainly wasn't an Oriana Kingdom style; if anything, you could call it the cutting edge of modern combat.

He pressed his advantage, his blade glinting in the dim light as it repeatedly grazed her jet-black bodysuit. He was playing it smart, using the other prisoners to maintain a superior tactical position.

"Give up. You have no path to victory."

Hmm, she’s in a bit of a tight spot. And the guy is a total hottie, to boot.

Just as I thought that, she lunged.

Maximilian stood his ground, confident he was well outside her reach. He’d calculated his positioning perfectly. It was a thrust that couldn't possibly hit him.

Until, suddenly—her sword extended.

"—!?"

If Maximilian hadn't tilted his head at the very last microsecond, his face would have been skewered. The slime sword grazed his cheek, sending a spray of red blood into the air.

He barely managed to avoid a fatal blow, but the awkward evasion threw him completely off balance, forcing him to retreat.

Taking the opening, she wiped out the rest of the surrounding prisoners in a single blur of motion, then sliced through the storehouse door and bolted.

"Don't let her get away! After her!!"

Maximilian roared, and the surviving goons scrambled after her.

"Boss, what about this kid?" one of the prisoners asked, gesturing toward me.

"Owl is the priority! If we catch her, this nobody doesn't matter. Just make sure she doesn't escape!"

With that, Maximilian chased after her.

I was left completely alone in the Underground Storehouse, which had become very quiet very quickly.

"Well... now what?"

Upstairs, things were starting to sound pretty hectic.