Chapter 3

Chapter 3
In “Psychedelia,” the family of Count Palatio is depicted as a classic example of a villainous side-quest role, existing merely to supply the main character with experience before they vanish from the story.

By the game’s logic, they are little more than background characters. Yet, the reason Alon possessed a fair amount of knowledge regarding the Count Palatio household was his repeated engagement with side-quests connected to them during his playthroughs.

The experience points rewarded for quests involving the Count’s family were notably substantial.

In essence, within the game’s context, these individuals were just minor figures designed to boost the protagonist’s level.

But that perspective only held up when viewing them as part of a game. For Alon, who now inhabited a world where that game had become his actual life, his perception of the Count’s family was markedly altered.

The game had simply labeled the family as “operating a drug and prostitution ring under the banner of Avalon,” but now, Alon had witnessed the genuine, if fractured, reality with his own vision.

He was seeing it directly, even now.

Alon discreetly moved his eyes forward. Before him rested the body of the recently deceased Tonio, laid out within a coffin.

‘Cause of death: an accidental fall… of course.’

For a man who was a key figure in the kingdom’s narcotics trade, it was a ludicrously mundane and hollow end. But, naturally, Alon was aware that Tonio’s demise was not due to a simple fall.

In fact, it would be unusual if anyone present was ignorant of the truth.

Alon shifted his gaze to the side.

Standing beside him, his head bowed with a profound smile, was Leo, the first son of the Count Palatio family, who had been engaged in a fierce rivalry with Tonio for the position of heir.

‘He looks like he might crack his face from smiling.’

Leo had ceased any effort to conceal his grin; his expression was practically unchecked. Anyone could deduce that Tonio’s death was no accident.

Nevertheless, despite this universal understanding, no one raised any objection to Leo. Not the knights, not the household attendants, not even Aldimore, the present head of the Count Palatio family, uttered a single word of reproach to his eldest son.

‘Well, Aldimore is too far lost to his indulgences in drugs and women to care if his sons are destroying each other. He isn’t even capable of speech anymore.’

Alon released a quiet, derisive chuckle as he observed the Count, who was so lacking in gravitas that even during his own son’s funeral, he was enveloped by narcotics and courtesans.

‘True to the dark fantasy genre, this family is an absolute disaster.’

Of course, Alon himself had no particular desire to intervene.

From the start, Alon’s own strategy was advancing smoothly without requiring much effort on his part, and his only genuine concern remained the Five Great Sins.

‘I must locate the others quickly.’

Turning this thought over in his mind, Alon watched the funeral’s concluding rites.

Just as the coffin holding Tonio was on the verge of being closed,

“Hm…?”

A sudden uncertainty arose in Alon’s thoughts.

‘Was Tonio’s death meant to occur in this manner…?’

When he experienced the narrative episode involving the Count Palatio family in the game, only Leo had appeared, making Tonio’s fate easy for Alon to foresee.

However, what now cast doubt on the circumstances of Tonio’s death was a statement Leo had made after being defeated by the protagonist.

‘…Didn’t he claim, after years of struggle, that he had finally killed Tonio and secured his position as the uncontested heir?’

Having completed the game numerous times, and remembering Leo’s pitiable final appearance, Alon found himself tilting his head in confusion.

Still, he dismissed the thought just as quickly.

It wasn’t a matter that concerned him deeply.

A few days after Tonio’s funeral, the Count Palatio household, which had been in upheaval following the second son’s death, abruptly settled into a state of unusual calm.

The conflict over succession was over.

Although the Count had a third son, Alon, besides Tonio, no one anticipated the family descending into disorder again.

Everyone understood that, unlike Tonio, who had forged alliances with the criminal underworld and dealt drugs to amass power to challenge the first son, Alon possessed no influence at all.

Even Leo, who was intensely watchful regarding the succession, displayed no anxiety about Alon and paid him no mind.

Instead, Leo appeared more focused on absorbing the narcotics operations Tonio had left behind.

In any case, with peace restored to the Count’s family, Alon was reading a letter sent by Yutia.

“Hmm.”

The correspondence they had maintained for nearly a year was consistently similar, never containing anything extraordinary.

The letter’s contents primarily concerned the orphanage. She wrote about how some children were developing well, and also included brief mentions of Deus, whom Alon had sent to her care.

‘They are maturing without any problems…’

Alon smiled with contentment as he read the short line in Yutia’s letter.

When he had dispatched Deus to the orphanage, he had requested Yutia provide extra attention as the boy was “a somewhat troubled child,” and she always included a concise update on Deus in her messages.

‘…Communicating with her through these letters, she truly seems like a gentle, naive country girl.’

He briefly entertained the idea of visiting her but dismissed the notion and continued reading.

As he approached the letter’s end, Alon spoke up.

“Evan.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“…Do orphanages typically get many donations?”

“Hmm, generally speaking… well, they likely receive some, but probably not a great number, I would imagine.”

“That was my assumption as well.”

Alon had asked about donations because of a list of contributors written at the bottom of Yutia’s letter.

‘…Was it three months ago, or perhaps four?’

Oddly, starting several months prior, other individuals had begun making donations to the orphanage that Alon supported.

Naturally, the letter only stated that a merchant named Malano had donated, so the exact sums were unknown, but…

‘This month, five people, including myself, have donated to the orphanage…’

Though his expression showed puzzlement as he read, Alon quickly set the matter aside.

‘Well, more donations can only be a good thing.’

With that, Alon penned a reply to Yutia, offering vague agreement with her news, and handed the letter to Evan.

“Will you be delivering it yourself again?”

“No, didn’t I go there only a few months ago?”

“It was three months ago, I believe.”

“And… what was your report then?”

“Regarding the orphanage, I reported it was functioning well. Deus, whom I delivered there, also appeared to be significantly improved.”

“Is that so?”

Alon nodded, pleased with Evan’s account.

‘As I suspected, even those destined to become the Five Great Sins couldn’t have been born evil. It’s satisfying to know the children are developing properly. It must have been their circumstances that originally twisted them into murderers.’

Alon was once more impressed by how vital a person’s environment is for their development, and he added,

“There’s no need for a personal visit this time. Have someone from the mercenary guild deliver it.”

“Understood.”

Evan nodded and was turning to leave when a recollection seemed to strike him.

“And… do you recall that matter you mentioned previously?”

“Matter I mentioned?”

“The ancient text.”

“You found it?”

“I cannot be certain, but I have discovered a potential lead.”

“Tell me.”

At Alon’s command, Evan began to relay, piece by piece, the information he had collected from the intelligence guild.

And finally,

“I’ve located it.”

He had found the whereabouts of the third Sin.

***

Margot, the domain of a Viscount situated next to a small village in the eastern region of the Asteria Kingdom, was famed for its exquisite glassware as a local specialty.

However, that was merely Margot’s public reputation. In truth, the actual foundation of the Margot Viscount family’s wealth was drugs.

More precisely, a syndicate known as “Phalan” utilized Margot as a distribution center, funneling a significant income to the Viscount’s family.

Phalan, which had been methodically expanding its influence by using Margot as a base, had now grown into a massive organization with hundreds of members, led by more than ten fighters of expert caliber.

Because of this, Rauton, the leader of Phalan and an expert mercenary like his fellow executives, was confident that Phalan would continue its expansion.

…At least, that was his belief until yesterday.

Rauton scanned his surroundings with terrified eyes.

Lying on the ground before him were dozens of blood-soaked corpses.

“P-please, have mercy! Spare me!!”

“I’m begging you~!”

“Aaaahhh!!”

Only a handful of surviving organization members remained, shrieking in desperation.

Rauton looked at them with eyes shaking in fear.

Under normal circumstances, the sight of his remaining men, who should have been a reliable defense, would have reassured him.

Even if they were less skilled than him, their numbers alone should have provided some comfort.

Yet, despite this, Rauton felt only dread as he watched them.

“Uh… Ugh…”

“P-please…”

The surviving members were all holding their swords in a reverse grip, the blades pressed against their own necks.

“No! No, don’t! No, no, no~!”

“Aaaahhh~!!”

“Stop, I beg you to stop! Please… I implore you!!”

Their faces were each contorted with desperation and pleading.

But regardless, their bodies, moving as if of their own accord, drove the inverted blades into their throats.

Schlack!

The final dozen or so members ended their own lives.

And then,

“!”

Rauton’s body began to move independently.

“N-no…!”

He gripped his own sword in a reverse hold.

“P-please!”

No matter how fiercely he struggled, his body, once commandeered, refused to obey him and merely quivered.

In his last moments,

“…”

Rauton saw them.

From within the shadows of the hideout, a pair of violet eyes staring straight at him.

But the instant he registered them—

Shlunk!

Rauton drove his sword deep into his own throat.

Thud.

With that, Deus, who had been veiled in darkness, stepped forward silently and walked outside.

“Well done.”

Yutia, who had been accompanying Deus, naturally followed him out.

“Is there any purpose in killing these people?”

As if he had been waiting, Deus posed the question as Yutia emerged.

Unlike a year earlier, a clear light of rationality shone in his eyes.

“Are you feeling pity?”

“No. I know these people were processing humans to manufacture drugs.”

“Then why ask?”

“I only wonder if eliminating them will bring us closer to killing those other bastards.”

In response to Deus’s query, Yutia smiled and stated,

“Naturally.”

Her answer was unequivocal.

“This is merely preparation for his return.”

Thud.

As she spoke, a pattern began to form upon the ground beneath her feet.

Inscribed within the magic circle was a gigantic eye containing a crescent moon.

“When he arrives, we wouldn’t wish for his location to be filthy, would we?”

“…I see.”

Deus, who had been gazing at the pattern underfoot, nodded as if comprehending her meaning. He asked nothing further.

“All is as he wills.”

Muttering these words, which he had recited countless times, the two completed drawing the magic circle beneath them and vanished into the shadows.

Leaving no one alive within Phalan’s hideout.