The atmosphere in the Underground Auction House was as dreary as ever.
The walls glowed red with sooty, oiled torches, and the screams that echoed throughout were probably the hobby of a disgruntled nobleman.
Mistreating their slaves, purchased here, or forcing them to be sold as a punishment for the oppression of their race.
These things were common enough here in Avilat that it was almost unbearable.
'It was bad enough in the game... but it's many times worse in real life.'
With that thought, I look around.
The mysteriously masked men and women filling the seats are dignitaries from the Arkheim Empire and other nations.
Each and every one of them has come here for the same thing: to fulfill their own desires.
Ecstasy.
That was the narcotic emotion that characterized the gambling houses of eastern Avilat, and that drew fallen nobles to them like wealth moths to a flame.
'It's like the devil.'
Mere mortals, more so than anyone else.
I thought, looking at the nobleman seated nearby.
My brain tingles. Vivid anger burned like a filament.
'This sucks.'
Of course, if you were to ask me if I, a man of [Steel Mentality], am this angry because of the insignificance of an item on the auction block, I would say no.
Trading in an artifact banned by the Empire?
It wasn't that.
What I was looking at now was a shock.
-Let us go!
-I want to go… home, please… I have a child....
-That scumbag killed my wife in front of me! I will curse you on my deathbed. You son of a bitch…!
The voices of the appealing slaves.
All of them are crying and screaming to go home.
Some have been captured leaving their children alone,
Some have lost their wives before their eyes.
Others, perhaps, have suffered some other form of tragedy.
In this disgusting place, they buy and sell people to each other.
It's hard to see how Inner Lunatic is not an adult-oriented game.
'Well, the tragedy of this place is never directly addressed in the game, so of course.'
At the time, it was just a minor scene in a short script.
For a moment, I recalled the phrases that had characterized Avilat in past runs.
[Dark and damp. A strangely clean place, beyond the filthy alleyways, and deeper than that.
Water that has already rotted to the point of corruption, where a group of humans with all manner of lowly greed have congregated.
{TN: stagnant water rots}
If the word 'depravity' could be derived from anything, this place, the Avilat Gambling House, was certainly not lacking].
The description itself was frankly simple. It was enough to capture the imagination, but it didn't speak to me intuitively.
It was an illusion, not a reality.
Now, however, it is different.
All the tragedies of Avilat are real, and they are being played out before my very eyes.
Catastrophe, tragedy, there are so many words to describe it, but....
[Heartbreak].
It was hard to find a more appropriate word.
I bowed my head and stared at my inventory for a moment.
Suddenly, a voice came from the mirror I had placed inside.
It belonged to Gremory, of course. She was quite excited by the deep human emotions she was feeling for the first time in ages.
'...No wonder. This thing is a demon of honesty and heartbreak. After all, she feeds on the emotions of others.'
How many people really know what it means to feed on emotions?
But here in Inner Lunatic, the demons feed on emotion. It can be empowered by them alone. Chaos and the shaking of hierarchies. The breakdown of order.
Everything becomes demonic flesh and blood, corrupted magic that defiles the pure.
[Shut up. Piece of trash].
I muttered to it, deliberately channeling magic into the mirror.
Gremory.
Though she may have aligned herself with me, it doesn't change the fact that she is a demon at heart. She sought to destroy Kushan's dynasty, to bring down the kingdom of Tahalin.
She has already killed countless people and contributed to their corruption. Of course, even if it was Kramsar's own arbitrary decision, she is to blame.
Therefore, I will not allow her to go on a rampage, at least not while she is with me.
I realize that even the power to do so would be meaningless under the seal, but I thought I should make my intentions clear.
[If you open your mouth without my permission one more time, I'll tear it out].
[....]
Gremory quickly shut up.
For a demon, he had a terrible regard for my life.
"Master...."
Surprisingly, Zitri looked the most surprised.
I could feel her small hand trembling as she sat next to me.
I couldn't help but squeeze her hand. The canary mask, the one with the upturned hand, lifts abruptly to face me.
"Quiet now. If they find out who we are, it's all over. Do you remember?"
"Yes... sorry."
I take a deep breath, organizing my thoughts.
'Maybe it's no wonder Zitri is panicking.'
Traumatized by the trait that had been plaguing her for so long.
[Misery].
Perhaps that is what has begun to haunt her once again.
But even so, I had no choice but to bring her in. The rest of the units, even if they had been brought in out of necessity... could not be brought in with her.
The reason could not have been clearer.
'There are too many people out to get me. It's not safe to leave my units alone, and I need to do something about it as soon as possible.'
The other units had the same reason for trying to get into the Academy as quickly as possible.
'Protection.'
The timing is right, because when we return after the second episode, that issue will probably be bubbling up at the Academy as well.
Just as I was getting my thoughts together, I heard a familiar voice.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, you've been waiting a long time!"
An underground auction house.
A man in a medieval-style suit stood atop a multi-tiered podium and began to speak.
The face is unmistakably familiar to me.
That guy is....
"My name is Herman, and I'm the general manager of this underground auction house, and I'm personally presiding over the auction this time, and I'm going to make sure it's a fun one, since we've got a lot of nobles here, so please give me a lot of cheers and applause!" [1]
Clap, clap, clap, clap!
A ritualized round of applause.
In that moment, why?
A chill runs up the nape of my neck.
Perhaps some of the more talented people here have already felt it.
Especially my specially gifted units.
I clench my fists and shift my gaze forward.
There he stood, Herman in the flesh, oozing with life, or rather, a lowly scum with hidden malice glistening within.
I smirked and glared at him.
'Herman? That's not your real name.'
Episode 2.
The Gambling House and the Underground Auction House As anyone who has completed the first two episodes will know.
The owner of the gambling house in Avilat, the tragedy of the place. The scum who set up the outpost. His true identity is the devil himself.
The Archduke Jagan, one of the 72 demons known for their ferocity. ... If left alone, he will lead to the demise of the nobility, and eventually… a war between the nobility and the commoners.
Commoners and nobles.
The conflict between the two has already reached a boiling point.
Allowing a corrupt nobleman like this to remain on the loose in the current climate is a recipe for disaster.
The beginning of a collapse in which the commoners organize a resistance and begin to fight the nobility.
You might ask.
This is a normal form of revolution, so why is it a problem?
What happens if it continues?
I say.
The answer is simple.
The end of humanity.
The reason is clear.
'Because that's what the demons are after.'
They create a divide from within, and then baring their teeth, devour the human world.
Manifesting the demonic world on this plane.
First ranking demon.
The purpose of Archduke Baal was to bring all of humanity under his control.
* * *
House Reinhafer, on the outskirts of the estate.
A private conversation between a man and a woman is heard.
In the midst of the silence, a pure white moon sheds a sparse, shattering light.
Into the silence. It was the older woman who spoke first.
"Garen, it's been a while."
"Yes. Mother. It's been a long time. Have you been at peace?"
The two conversing were Garen, the first son of the Reinhafer family, and his mother, Psylla.
They were mother and son.
They were meeting in secret, away from the presence of their patriarch, Theo. Not surprisingly, most of the things they talked about were not things he should hear.
"Theo, It seems to me, that he is thinking of someone other than you as his successor."
Psylla crossed her arms as she said it. A blatant sign of displeasure.
It was a bit too sharp for her son, but the one in front of her took it in stride and bowed his head.
"Nox von Reinhafer… you mean the youngest?"
"Yes. The child is rising through the ranks once and for all. The Senate still seems to favor you, but it is Theo who holds absolute power in House Reinhafer. You must not forget that. The seven stars… their significance is beyond description."
"...I am sorry. Please pass that on to my family."
A slight softness lingered in Psylla's tone, stung by Garen's blunt words. The outer family he spoke of now.
For it was her own family, House Airel, which had recently risen to prominence through the power of House Reinharbour.
Psylla von Airel.
That was the name Psylla had once used before she took her husband's surname.
She planned to give it her all, to grow her family even further, to consolidate her position, and perhaps even to take over House Reinhafer.
What she needed to accomplish this, of course, was a legitimate direct line.
A son of her own, not a concubine, but a true wife.
'And an overwhelmingly gifted genius.'
So when Psylla looked at the young Garen, she thought she had gotten her wish. Her son's talents were not at all lacking in comparison to those of the other prodigies.
Naturally, with Theo stepping down, Garen would take the reins. My son will never forget the supportive family that helped him grow up.
As a result, House Airel will be able to use Reinhafer to prosper.
But this expectation has recently been shattered by a boy.
The only one in the family who is not her own son.
Worse yet, a boy who is considered to be a genius beyond Garen's years, and who recently rose to prominence as the head of the Academy.
Nox von Reinhafer.
"How he suddenly gained so much power is beyond me. But with House Airel on my side, it shouldn't take long."
Psylla never trusted the boy's talents.
There had to be a reason my twins had fallen to him, she thought. In fact, though she never said it, she thought Theo was looking out for the youngest.
The child born to his second wife, the one he truly loved, not the one he'd married for power.
Therefore, she believed he was blinded and favored Nox. These thoughts were recently culminated in Theo's passing on the Second Rite of the Supreme Black Sword to Nox.
Thus, Psylla has been slyly planting rumors among the Senate and vassals lately.
That Theo is not deciding on an heir in a normal fashion.
He would rather have a duel and choose between the eldest and the youngest.
Despite the age gap, there is no guarantee that the younger, more talented one will be able to surpass Garen.
Throw in a dash of Knox's past assholery and you've got a recipe for disaster.
... But why?
'Knox's reputation is growing, which is strange. I thought the other maids and butlers had already been bought off… Is there an unusual faction within the house that supports him?
Psylla didn't know.
This was largely due to the fact that even my second son, Grainne, had sided with Knox.
She was a rascal in the maids' circle, a girl with a natural talent for gossip and scandal.
That Lorna de Nero had a lot to do with it.
"...At any rate, you should stick to the sword. Eventually, you'll have to fight the youngest, Knox, at least once, and you'll defeat him by a landslide. But... we must win this battle convincingly, for we have more to lose. Do you understand?"
"I will keep it in mind, don't worry. Mother. Do you think I can't handle one of the youngest?"
Garen smirked.
The smile quickly faded, he thought.
A duel with Knox von Reinhaber?
Hopefully.
Now he would suffer disaster with one more complete defeat of his own.
Snap his wings and bring him crashing down when he thought he was high.
When he does, he will no longer have the strength to rise.
Garen spoke again, this time with a lighthearted greeting.
"All as the Archduke wishes."
How dare he insult a follower of the devil on Rineharbour Street. But the reply didn't hit the air, it came back through someone else.
"...All things are as the Archduke wishes."
And so it was.
Garen and Psylla, both devout worshippers of the devil.
They were demons.
[1] : It might be Hymen but that'd be kinda weird.