Report
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
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Chapter 70: That Shall Be My Name in the Underworld
"Before we begin this conversation, let me ask you one thing, Zizek."
"Speak."
Zizek crossed his arms and gave me a sullen stare.
"Are you with the Bisakino Brotherhood because you genuinely want to be?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I heard the stories from Rob on the way here. Those bastards seem to dabble in every dirty trade imaginable."
I unfolded my fingers as I spoke.
"Smuggling, fraud, extortion, gambling, robbery, assassination, mercenary work. But the worst among them is human trafficking."
"..."
I didn’t miss the flicker of emotion on Zizek’s face—it was shame.
"From what I hear, one of their affiliated groups primarily deals in 'merchandise' such as prisoners of war and members of other ethnicities. They even capture stowaways seeking a better life or sell civilians abducted by pirates."
"..."
"Do you have any defense for that?"
"No."
"Good, I appreciate your honesty. But are you truly proud of it?"
With words as sharp as blades, I struck at the core of Zizek’s conscience.
"In the end, you’re nothing more than lackeys and errand boys for scum who trade in human lives and ruin others' futures. Doesn’t it bother you that you’re the bottom-feeders doing their dirtiest and most degrading work? Do you feel any pride in that?"
"...I have no choice. Without their backing, there’s no way to survive in this world."
Zizek protested.
"They may be scum, but they’re still my people. If I took them in, I can’t let them starve, can I?"
"Don’t give me that crap. If survival is the issue, you could sell bread, carry luggage, or make pottery. Look at the inn workers scrubbing tables and enduring insults just to scrape together a living to feed their families."
"..."
"Do you think they’re suffering like that because they’re dumber than you?"
I was also speaking to my past self—the Karzan of long ago. If I had been ‘a little braver’ maybe I wouldn’t have plunged into the underworld, claiming to protect those pitiful children.
But the naive boy of that time, ignorant of the wider world, couldn’t have seen other paths.
"Not anymore, though."
"What makes you so superior? Just because you’re a bit stronger? And yet, here you are, unable to do anything to me."
Zizek bit his lower lip before responding.
"…You’re right. I’m nothing special."
"If anything, you’re even worse—stealing from those struggling to get by. You’re a leech, no better than a mosquito draining someone else’s blood."
That finally struck a nerve. Zizek’s expression twisted with anger.
"If that’s what you think, then kill me already!"
"Don’t speak rashly. Do you really want me to?"
I unleashed killing intent I hadn’t shown before. Zizek’s face turned pale.
"You fool. Are you ready to throw away your life just because I hurt your pride?"
"Hah… Damn it."
Zizek exhaled heavily, visibly trying to calm the blood rushing to his head.
"Then tell me—what’s your purpose? What cause should I risk my life for?"
This was the question I had been waiting for. I pointed at the street visible through the small window.
"Here’s how I see it: the underworld has no rules because it’s a land without a king—a place where everyone tears each other apart like rabid dogs."
Zizek frowned, as if to say, What obvious nonsense are you spouting?
"Isn’t that the very nature of the underworld?"
"You’re wrong. Even in the filthiest sewer, there can be order. If someone with conviction, strength, and charisma rises to rule the underworld of this city, their own laws will inevitably follow."
"What would change if that happens?"
"People like the ones you’ve taken in—those unfortunate souls drowning in misery—would have a chance to avoid falling into the depths. No more losing hard-earned money unjustly. No more innocent lives needlessly taken."
That was also Karzan's dream.
In my past life, I managed to bring order to a single small city.
Even if it was just one place, there were few who suffered injustice there because I did everything I could within my power.
"That’s an absurd dream. It’s the most far-fetched nonsense I’ve ever heard."
Watching Zizek’s sneering expression, I chuckled instead.
"That’s because you’ve spent your life splashing around in a shallow well, Zizek. You’re a frog who’s never seen the wider world."
"…This vast underworld of Grunewald, you’re calling it a shallow well?"
"No, that’s not what I meant. What I’m saying is that the small street corner of Grunewald you’re stuck in, where you’re bound by childish, unspoken rules, that is the tiny well you live in."
I saw my past self in Zizek, which is why my words were also directed at the Karzan of long ago.
"You said you worked as a henchman? At best, you were probably nothing more than a grunt. What, did working as a servant in some wealthy man’s barn make you think you’re somebody? Do you really believe you understand the entirety of the underworld’s workings?"
Zizek, provoked by my words, snapped back.
"Damn it, and what about you? How much do you know?"
"At the very least, I’ve been through things you can’t even imagine—battles, trials, and all."
"Well, good for you. So why is someone like you wasting time dealing with a fifth-rate underworld gang like us?"
"I can’t tell you that."
"Fuck, then what can you tell me?"
Zizek cursed, his temper flaring.
"I can tell you what you need to do."
I locked eyes with Zizek and spoke.
"From now on, you’ll build your strength and earn the people’s trust in this district. Embrace the downtrodden and help those in need. When disputes arise, settle them fairly and side with what’s right."
Even in the underworld, there can be honor. And that honor comes from establishing order and justice, using one’s name as the banner for a set of rules.
"At the very least, in your territory, outlaw the trade of human lives, the sale of drugs, and the exploitation of the poor through unjust means."
"…What’s your endgame?"
Zizek’s expression grew distant.
"Why spare my life and take my organization just to convince me to do something like this? Are you running some kind of charity?"
What he was really asking was. Is it even possible to live like that?
For someone steeped in the darkness of the underworld, such ideals sounded like fantasy.
But for others, they were a natural way of life. I’d met honorable underworld figures before—men who valued loyalty, integrity, and righteousness.
"I’ve told you already. I plan to bring my sense of order to the underworld of Grunewald—a battlefield of wolves tearing at each other."
"You sound like a saint. That can’t be all there is to it."
I grinned. Of course, my goals included avenging Allenvert, fulfilling Karzan’s unfinished business, and ultimately taking control of Grunewald.
"You’re right. But achieving this is an essential step toward my ultimate objective."
Unlike before, Zizek didn’t immediately lash out at my words.
I knew why. People who were moved by the words of a foolish romantic always shared a certain trait.
"You’re a man of conscience, Zizek."
That’s why I hoped he would willingly take my hand.
"If you earn the people’s trust, this street will truly become yours."
"I’m sorry, but we don’t have the strength for that. If we do as you say, the other gangs in the area will come for us. My superiors will summon me and demand answers. They’ll accuse me of betrayal, ask what foolish ideas I’ve gotten into my head, and why I’m not following orders."
I pointed to my chest.
"What are you so worried about? I'll be backing you. Do you think they can handle me?"
Zizek's expression was hesitant, clearly unsure.
"You're certainly confident."
"Trust me, Zizek. There's more than enough ways to survive in this underworld without resorting to those kinds of methods."
Zizek exhaled a trembling sigh.
"It would be nice if that were really possible."
Internally, I smirked. He's starting to waver.
This man, whose resolve was as flimsy as a reed swaying in the northern wind, was beginning to tilt in my favor.
My plan was to grow stronger while sometimes leaning on the Bisakino Brotherhood's insignia and at other times participating in their internal power struggles.
But first, I’d have to conquer this area.
I asked. "What’s the reputation of the nearby organizations?"
The moment I finished speaking, Zizek spat on the ground in disgust.
"Most of them are just scum."
"Ah, well, that’s a relief then."
"Why’s that?"
"Because it means I can deal with them however I see fit."
For the truly irredeemable, death or forced retirement would suffice as justice.
As for those who could be reformed, I planned to have them join Zizek’s ranks under his command.
"You may have guessed this already, but I won’t be stepping into the spotlight. You’ll lead the organization as my proxy, winning the battles and establishing control. If you ever need my strength, you’re welcome to call on it."
"And why is it that you’re avoiding the forefront?"
"I need to remain a secret. If you grow your influence for me, I’ll support and guide you in return—and borrow your strength when necessary."
"In other words, a transaction."
"Exactly, Zizek. I want to buy your loyalty."
I knew my words must sound dangerous to Zizek. There was little reason for him to trust me—my proposal seemed lofty, reckless, and fraught with risk.
"Why us, though?"
Even so, Zizek wasn’t outright rejecting me.
"To be honest, it’s partly coincidence."
"Coincidence?"
"A little while ago, I noticed some men with spider tattoos heavily involved in smuggling at the harbor."
"Ah."
Zizek clicked his tongue.
"Those bastards, huh. They’re big players in the dockyard and logistics scene."
They were probably one of the more prominent groups under the Bisakino Brotherhood’s umbrella.
"So, I thought I’d start by taking over one of the smaller spider nests and use that to build up my strength, eventually taking down the bigger one."
"And it just so happened that you ran into my men in the process."
"Exactly."
"Damn it. A lunatic shows up in my district out of nowhere, talking about taking over, while badmouthing the Bisakino Brotherhood? How could I not intervene?"
Zizek let out a deep sigh.
"So? Is your grand plan to swallow up the Bisakino Brotherhood and use that as a springboard to take over Grunewald’s entire underworld?"
"For a frog in a well, you have quite the eye for the big picture."
"Ugh, I really got myself into something, didn’t I?"
Zizek grumbled, but his words were as good as an agreement.
"Just one thing—can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Who’s backing you, anyway?"
"Backing, huh."
Who exactly is backing me? My mother and her clan are in no position to help me. My siblings? Most of them are rivals. And my father? He’s merely a bystander.
‘Still, it’s true that the city of Grunewald itself is one of my greatest weapons.’
That is, if I can distinguish the right time to use it and the right time to conceal it.
‘Used carelessly, it becomes a vulnerability. But wielded with precision, it’s my ace in the hole.’
One lesson from my previous life: to gain something great, you must risk something equally significant.
The Dark King may be an asshole, but even he must have overcome countless perils and hardships to ascend to his throne. For that, I have to acknowledge his struggle.
If he is the greatest swindler on this continent, then I’ll surpass him. I’ll be a better swindler, a gambler, and a master tightrope walker.
"What do you think? Who do you believe my backing is?"
"…I have no idea."
That answer satisfied me. It wouldn’t do to be so easily read.
"Why don’t you find out? You can tell me your answer when you return."
"Then at least tell me your name."
"Ah, that much I’ll gladly share."
Locking eyes with Zizek, I gave him a name—a name that had died and been buried 17 years ago.
"Karzan."
That shall be my name in the Underworld.
"…Karzan."
Zizek rolled the name on his tongue.
"Doesn’t ring a bell. Are you, by chance, from another land?"
"Why don’t you figure that out too?"
"Goddamn it."
Zizek shook his head and met my gaze.
"Fine. From now on, I’ll call you ‘Mr. Karzan.’ Damn it all."
His tone had shifted.
"Call me whatever you like."
Zizek nodded, his expression conflicted.
"What’s your organization’s name?"
"Doesn’t really have one. People just call us Zizek’s Gang."
"Alright, we’ll come up with something fitting later. Slapping a grand name on a fifth-rate organization would just be ridiculous."
"Well, aren’t you a smooth talker."
"Anyway, you’re my new figurehead now."
I patted Zizek on the shoulder with mock arrogance.
"Let’s work well together, shall we?"
"…Should I gather the boys to introduce you?"
"No need. Do it tomorrow."
I yawned so wide it felt like my jaw might unhinge. It was deep into the night, and I hadn’t even caught a wink of sleep.
"Got a place to crash?"
"Yeah, we do."
"Renting a whole building, I see. You’ve got some basic competence at least."
"Something like that."
"I’ll get some shut-eye. Wake me when the roosters crow."
"That’s only a few hours from now."
"I don’t need more than that."
"…."
"And for the record, if you try anything while I’m asleep, be prepared for the consequences."
Zizek let out a faint laugh.
"I’m not that much of an idiot."
He led me to a small room.
“Wow, the smell. Can’t you guys live a little cleaner?”
“Is it that bad?”
“Ugh, you filthy bastards. Tomorrow, spend the whole day deep-cleaning this place. That’s an order. It’s like you’ve never cleaned a day in your lives.”
“Alright, alright, just stop nagging already.”
“Shut up. I’ll nag as much as I want.”
After thoroughly chewing Zizek out, I shooed him away.
“Now get out. I need to sleep.”
“Must be nice. Some of us are stuck cleaning up your mess through the night.”
“…That’s true.”
This is the upside of having subordinates, isn’t it?
Watching Zizek walk off with surprising enthusiasm to execute my orders, I stretched out on the bed. The pillow reeked faintly of rat urine.
‘What a disgustingly long day.’
Still, my heart was at ease.
How much hardship had young Karzan endured just to earn a cramped corner like this to lay his head?
‘This is only the beginning.’
I had just taken my first step into the vast, shadowy depths of this underworld.
‘It’s going to get much busier from here on out.’
But for now—
I let myself feel some joy. After all, I’d just secured Zizek, who might prove to be as invaluable as Zamuel, as my subordinate.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
Join our Discord for release updates!
https://discord.com/invite/dbdMDhzWa2
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