"My apologies, I haven't even introduced myself yet. My name is Guster. I am the owner of the Rainanorn and a member of the Reinos Clan's leadership. I pride myself on having a fair amount of influence here in Orcus. Please, tell me whatever you need."
The Reinos Clan was one of the major clans in Zephyrson, holding significant sway over the northwestern region where Orcus was located. If he truly had such pull, his personal connections were likely vast. He might even possess a specialized information network, making him the perfect person to help with our search.
"In that case, could you provide any information you have on the Evil Cultists? There is a chance they might be hiding somewhere in Zephyrson."
I didn't know for certain if they were truly lurking in this country. However, if they were, I suspected they would eventually pass through Orcus. Of all the major cities in Zephyrson, it was the one closest to Sazantgurna.
Guster looked back and forth between himself and Randy with a bewildered expression. Perhaps my request had been unexpected. Then again, most people wouldn't want anything to do with Evil Cultists.
"...I will say it once more just to be sure, but I am of the bloodline of the Reinos Clan's chief. I can make quite a few things happen here in Orcus. Are you certain that's all?"
"Yes, it would be a huge help!"
"Ah... right. So, information on Evil Cultists it is. I could have arranged a VIP Room in a luxury hotel that couldn't be booked with any amount of money, but... I see..."
When I thanked him for his cooperation, Guster began to mumble sadly to himself for some reason. I wondered what was wrong with him.
Despite that slightly confusing exchange, I managed to secure his help in gathering intelligence. He warned me that it wouldn't happen overnight, but the information arrived just three days later.
Apparently, a man suspected of being an Evil Cultist was currently being held in one of Orcus's dungeons.
Our guard’s footsteps echoed against the stone as Lowell and I followed behind him. Given that it was a gambling city, Orcus seemed to have no shortage of prisons.
In an upstanding establishment like the Rainanorn, you might lose everything you owned and end up penniless, but you wouldn't be saddled with debt. However, other casinos supposedly offered loans for stakes. In those cases, the player served as their own collateral. If you couldn't pay back the money, you became a debt slave. This facility was used to temporarily house those who were one step away from receiving a Slavery Sentence.
Strictly speaking, the man was being detained for his debts, not for being an Evil Cultist. At this stage, he was merely a suspect, and nothing had been confirmed.
"This is the man. I don't believe he's dangerous, but please remain cautious."
"Understood," Lowell replied.
"Yes, thank you very much," I added.
The guard stopped in front of a cell in a quiet corner. We had arrived. When I thanked him for the escort, he bowed slightly and stepped back to wait. It seemed he intended to stand by during the meeting. Since we weren't planning to discuss anything secret, I didn't mind.
"Hey, wake up! There's something we want to ask you!"
The man inside—Demuad—must have been remarkably thick-skinned. Despite the situation, he was fast asleep and snoring loudly. Lowell shouted to force him awake.
"Nn...?"
Demuad finally opened his eyes and sat up with a sluggish, reluctant motion. He looked to be in his early thirties—a rather dull, unremarkable middle-aged man.
"What's this? Who are you people?"
"We're... well, that doesn't matter. More importantly, we have some questions for you, Demuad. Are you an Evil Cultist?"
"...Sigh."
When I asked him straight out, Demuad scratched his head and let out a long, weary sigh.
I watched him closely, but I didn't see anything unnatural in his reaction. At the very least, he didn't seem flustered, as if I had struck a nerve. I wasn't an interrogator, though, so I couldn't exactly claim to see through his lies just by his attitude.
"I'll ask again. Are you an Evil Cultist?"
"I'm not an Evil Cultist. Honestly, why does everyone think that?"
This time, he gave a flat, firm denial. On the surface, he showed no signs of agitation.
"There is testimony to the contrary."
"Testimony...? Who said that?"
"Well... apparently it was two young girls."
The suspicion against Demuad stemmed from the claims of two girls who were traveling with him. Both were younger than us, seemingly around ten years old. They weren't his children, and their actual relationship to him was unknown. Traveling with young girls who weren't his daughters would have been a total scandal in my previous life. Even in this world, it was undeniably suspicious.
Regardless, the testimony had come out during a Retention Request for his Slavery Sentence. To put it simply, a Retention Request was a plea to delay the enslavement process by claiming the debt would be paid by a third party within a few days. I doubted ten-year-old girls had the means to pay off a casino debt, but the application was enough to put the procedures on hold.
While filing the request, the girls had reportedly shouted a threat: "Demuad is an Apostle of the Evil God! If you make him a slave, you'll be cursed!"
The officials hadn't taken the children seriously, of course. However, since this was the only lead we had regarding the Evil God, I had come to verify it.
"Ah... those brats. Honestly..."
Demuad muttered with an exasperated sigh and then glared at us.
"Like I said, I'm not an Evil Cultist. I just hear the Voice of the Evil God!"
Demuad made the declaration grandly, looking as if he had absolutely nothing to hide. But... wasn't "hearing the voice" a pretty major sign of being an Evil Cultist?