As he looked around and took in the eerie atmosphere of the alleyway, he felt a strange sense of nostalgia.
'Hah, there's nothing to be nostalgic about. But why do I feel so... comfortable?'
Even the stench of gore and filth didn't deter him from heading deeper inside the labyrinth of narrow passages. Every so often, there would be doors leading to various shops and ruined housing complexes.
Asher passed by another doorway.
'Gah... That's the fifth one already.' The smell of human meat was ingrained in his mind. He couldn't help but notice the pervasive fleshly aroma that had seeped into the air every time he passed one of 'those' shops.
Suddenly, he came to a realization. Didn't the system say that one person he knew in his future life was nicknamed 'The Eighth Chef'? An uneasy feeling wiggled into his mind; he couldn't be certain sure that 'The Eighth Chef' wasn't also like Hal.
"The Eighth Chef was one of my enemies in by future life, right?"
[She was a companion of yours, in fact.]
"Did she... cook people?"
[Yes.]
'...' He thought back to Hal, who murdered Mei two times before he could stop him, and shuddered.
Just who was he?
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and leapt into a trash pile behind him. A door swung open, and the pungent smell of blood flowed from the inside as two people stepped out.
"Hm~? Jack, I heard someone talking out here, did you?" A cheerful woman's voice nearly caused Asher to jump up due to how close it was. The boy shifted around in place, looking to the voice above him.
A slim brunette woman dressed in a crimson-stained white chef's uniform glanced behind her shoulder, questioning the man named Jack with her gaze.
"I didn't. Pierre, ya too stressed nowadays or something?" Jack was like a towering giant, several heads taller than the already normal sized Pierre. He wore a brown apron covering his uniform, and his hands held a massive glinting cleaver.
Understandably, Asher decided to stay in the trash pile for just a while longer.
"Yes, yes, that's exactly it! I've been trying to make the perfect dish for so long that I never have time to go outside!" Pierre sighed dramatically, wringing her hands together as Jack grinned in amusement.
"You said you want to become one of the 'Eight Chefs', right? You just blabber on and on about it."
Asher's body stiffened inside the trash pile.
"That's right! The Eight Chefs are the brightest of the Stars of the City that shine over all of us. They never fail to present us with stunning and sensational flavors!" Her eyes glowed with enthusiasm as she beamed at Jack.
"Alright, alright, I get it already... Why don't we first finish what we were doing? It's best to grind them fresh, for more flavor."
"Oh, right!" Pierre quickly hopped back into the building as Jack followed her, closing the door behind them.
Asher quietly stood up from the pile of trash. His mind, flashing with thoughts, did not register Jack's last comment about 'grinding'.
'So this 'Eighth Chef' that I knew in the future is probably from the cannibal group of the Eight Chefs or something? And why would it be the eighth, the last one?' Asher deliberated what he had eavesdropped from the two chefs.
Although he didn't exactly know how strong he was compared to the 'Eight Chefs', he was fairly certain that they were more powerful than Hal, and definitely stronger than the pair from earlier, otherwise why would that brunette girl, Pierre, idolize them so much?
He brushed the filth off of himself before moving forwards yet again, deeper into the darkness.
He wandered around for a few more minutes, not encountering anything particularly strange. It seemed like his E.G.O, with its wings beating forlornly from the lack of action, really did deter many of the thugs from approaching him like last time.
At a certain point, the buildings in the Backstreets changed, with shops and vendors filling every corner. Neon signs glared above his head, depicting dancing women, weapons, children's toys, and all other manner of things. As more and more people stared at him, he deactivated his suit to attract less attention.
Past the main roads of the Backstreets thrived a hidden society, forever perpetuated in nightlife.
But past the garish glowing lights, one building caught his attention. The drab structure, only decorated by a shoddy black and white sign, seemed to sigh quietly in the corner. He glanced at the sign's contents.
'Yun's Office: We do all jobs, up to 'Urban Myth'! Reasonable rates, excellent service!'
At least the sign was energetic. The childish handwriting on it didn't exactly exude professionalism, though.
"Is this one of the 'Offices' that Mei told me about? Seems pretty unpopular to me." Even after he waited for many minutes, he didn't see anyone leave or enter the place, despite the doors being wide open.
He stepped toward the shoddy building, partly out of pity, but also out of curiosity. Just what was an 'Office'?
A little jingle of bells played as he entered the doorway, and the sound of shuffling feet made its way towards him.
A small boy who was no older than him grinned cherubically, lighting up the dreary room in an instant. His glimmering eyes almost blinded Asher with their shine.
"Hello! My name is Finn, and welcome to Yun's Office! What is your name, and how may I help you?" The boy bowed clumsily, awaiting his response.
"It's Asher. Do you know what 'Urban Myth' means? It was on the sign outside."
"Oh, that means the threat level. Do you not know about it?"
"Haha, yeah I kind of forgot about... Er, can you explain it a bit for me?"
Finn cupped his hand on his chin in deep thought.
"Well... It should go like this: Canard, Urban Myth, Urban Legend, Urban Plague, and... Urban Nightmare, I think? And then Star of the City, I'm pretty sure. Canard's lowest level threat and Star is the highest, but our Office tries its best!"
Asher blinked. So the 'Eight Chefs' that those two cooks were talking about were actually eight of the peak existences of the City.
Not exactly reassuring, considering they were all cannibals.
But how strong was a Star compared to him? He had no basis of comparison.
Finn interrupted him with a cough.
"Wanna take a tour with me? Nobody's come in since yesterday, so I can show you around! It's usually busier than this, so don't mind if most of the rooms are empty."
Without even checking if Asher agreed, Finn turned around and left the main entrance, delving into a narrow hallway.
Having nothing better to do, Asher followed him.
Peering into the rooms along the side of the hallway, he found that they were all nearly empty. Only a few other workers sat in their cubicles, working on whatever people do in Offices.
"This is our intelligence department, currently three people strong, and down the hallway is my Captain's room!" Finn zigzagged across the hallway with avid curiosity, almost as if he was the one seeing the Office for the first time, not Asher.
The two of them made their way to the end of the hallway, where an unassuming doorway opened to yet another room.
"Captain! Someone's here!"
Asher glanced over Finn's head. The office was meticulously arranged, and a polished mahogany desk stood in the center of the room. The person Finn called the 'Captain' looked up from his work and nodded for them to enter.
A serious looking blonde man examined Asher, the cigarette in his mouth flicking up and down as he bit it to a silent rhythm. He wore a long black coat that draped past his knees, and the glint of various gadgets and devices shined on the inside of his jacket.
"Oh, a new face. Welcome to Yun's Office. Are there any jobs you have for us to complete? We only take Urban Myth grade tasks and lower, so think before you ask."
The Captain seemed to have said those exact words countless times before.
"Er... is this place also named after you?"
"Yes. Do you have anything that requires our services?" Yun cut to the chase, not willing to partake in any pleasantries.
Asher looked at Finn, who was staring at him expectantly. But he really had nothing he needed to do-
Well, he did have one thing on his mind...
"Can I ask exactly what jobs you can do?"
His curiosity of the strange world he was dropped into.