The drainage was exactly what I expected.
Dark. Damp. And with that thick stench that sours your tongue, killing your appetite with every breath. Luckily for me, I didn’t have to smell it—though seeing it was more than enough. It was the complete opposite of the “peaceful” and “pleasant” city above.
The floor was a current of filthy waste that sloshed and slid with every step I took. Every now and then I stepped on something soft and gelatinous that I preferred not to know the identity of. For that reason I kept my eyes forward, forcing all my concentration onto my current task instead of looking down.
And conceptually, it was even worse.
I could literally see the shit. And I don’t mean spotting a random piece of excrement lying around—no. Literally, all around me, everywhere, I could see shit in its purest state. I could barely suppress the urge to vomit. I’d never been in a situation like this.
Luckily, my ability solved the physical side of it. As for my vision, I had to squint, sometimes even close my eyes, just to endure the torment.
“Why did I get myself into this again?” I was starting to regret my decision.
I increased my clothing’s permeability enough that not even the smell could penetrate it. I didn’t want any of that filth clinging to me.
“I’m throwing this suit away anyway.”
Unfortunately, there was no fix for what I was seeing. I needed a certain margin of sight to keep tracking the group without being detected—no matter how horrible it was.
With the baby, I was even more careful. Some people might’ve called it obsessive. I really would’ve liked to leave her behind, but in this city there was no safer place for her than with me.
I carried her in a sealed basket, wrapped in cloth, without any kind of opening. Literally a hermetic cocoon, reinforced with an increase to the seal, hygiene, comfort, and anything else that might be necessary.
I even added a few aromatic flowers I’d kept for a long time from one of my “collections.” Not because I wanted to be kind to her—I just didn’t want her breathing this garbage.
The problem was that a sealed basket, plus a baby, plus black water, is not a comfortable combination.
It complicated my movement and threw off my balance, forcing me into an awkward, impractical posture for combat. Honestly, it got in my way.
Still. I preferred it like that.
“Only because you’re safer with me.”
The line came out automatically, and it annoyed me. It sounded like a stupid excuse, no matter how true it was.
Because I really did feel like an idiot for bringing her down here.
I didn’t want to expose her to unnecessary things. I wanted to keep her away from situations that might cause her trouble. But I had no one I could trust while I couldn’t stand guard. And now I was walking through a tunnel of shit, chasing “kidnappers.”
Yeah. Excellent plan.
“I hope this is worth it.” Otherwise I’d take it out on those people—rebels, good Samaritans, whatever they were.
I kept moving.
There wasn’t much I could do about the fact that my vision was literally full of filth. Just endure it, and don’t trip.
After all, it was a bit risky to go in not long after them. They could’ve been waiting for me on the other side, hidden like rats with weapons. But for my luck—or my misfortune—they weren’t.
In fact, they were far. Almost slipping out of my senses.
Partly because it was hard to see. Because I didn’t want to be too precise.
And partly because, since I couldn’t see the drainage from the outside, I also couldn’t see the city from the inside. The “ceiling” of the drainage looked like a solid plate of warmth and comfort.
A soft, warm layer that canceled my reading of the outside. It was hard not to keep staring at it.
Since I couldn’t see the city above my head, I had no choice but to build a mental map as I advanced—while maintaining all my boosts, following those people, avoiding discovery, and complaining. God, I hate this world.
This was, without a doubt, annoying.
Using the map I was forming in my mind, I reconstructed a summary of my path so far, just to distract myself a little.
Twelve minutes ago I’d entered through a side grate near a street not far from the inn, in the northwest of the city. And if my memory wasn’t failing me, we were approaching the center—very close to the fortress.
“Just what I needed.” I didn’t want to be anywhere near anything important. And apparently I was about to walk straight into trouble.
“It’s not too late to back out.” I told myself. I knew it was a lost cause, but still.
I adjusted my stealth and my permeability—especially the latter. Then I reduced my vision as much as possible without losing the group. I had a feeling things were going to get “interesting” very soon.
When I finally managed to get a little closer, I could make them out better.
There were four of them.
Three men and a woman.
I couldn’t distinguish their appearance. There was some kind of concealment in their clothing, a fabric that distorted the concept of “shape” and “detail.” Even so, their posture gave them away: people used to moving fast, getting in and out, not being seen.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
I didn’t really care about seeing their faces or knowing who they were.
I was more interested in where they were going and what they planned to do with the unconscious guard, who was being dragged along the floor like a sack of potatoes. Apparently his well-being didn’t matter to them. That was something.
I moved close enough to catch part of their conversation without having to focus too hard.
To speak, they used their auras—a fast and effective method of communication, difficult to intercept. Even I struggled to pick up the signals they were sending, especially since I wasn’t very focused on it.
I only caught fragments.
“How much farther?” one murmured, bored.
“However far it is,” another spat. “And stop trying to take off that damn mask. How many times do I have to tell you this place smells worse than it looks? Are you stupid or what?”
The third let out a resigned sigh.
“Please, can you calm down? This isn’t a field trip.”
“Don’t worry, we’re close. Finally…” the woman cut in, a bit overly excited. She seemed to have been thrilled the whole way.
The others didn’t share that feeling.
I also noticed something else while I distracted myself watching them: gas masks. Each of them was wearing some kind of gas mask, though they were a little different from mine.
All four figures had their faces covered by black filters, with valves that exhaled dense, steady air. Good models. Not cheap street junk. Mine was more sophisticated, but theirs weren’t bad.
I brushed my fingers over my collar for a moment, tempted to use it—but it would be a shame if they discovered me and everything went to shit. Better not tempt my luck.
Then I remembered I didn’t have mine.
“My mask!” How had I overlooked something that important? My body went cold instantly.
Because if I was in a sewer, surrounded by a city’s worth of waste and filth, there was a very good chance there were mushroom remnants down here. And the mask I was using—no matter how good it was—didn’t have any air filter.
My brain was already imagining my skin melting like ice left out in the sun.
But I didn’t take long to calm down.
After all, if there were even a trace of those damn fungi around here, I’d already be dead. Period.
Still didn’t mean it was smart to trust my luck.
I increased my impermeability a bit more. Not a very reliable solution, but it would help. Even if it made me a little less stealthy.
But I’d rather that than turn into a puddle of acid.
Crisis handled, I forced myself to keep my head cool.
I was still a bit confused by the city’s extreme lack of fungi. That fact alone put it in my personal top one cities—even if it was the only positive thing about it.
But jokes aside.
The group slowed down.
Their mental conversation grew heavier, tenser.
I didn’t catch the exact words— their auras swallowed the content, and I didn’t want to strain myself trying to “see”—but I got the essentials.
The prisoner.
“Are they deciding his fate?”
I doubted it. If they wanted him dead, they would’ve done it already. Though killing someone in a drainage system would make the search difficult. Why worry in the first place? Why come all the way down here?
Unless they wanted to torture him.
If that was the case, I was wasting my time tailing sick people.
And if it was, they were still going to pay for my wasted time.
The argument reached a breaking point.
The woman extended her aura in a threatening way, as if saying, I’m the one in charge. And even though she wasn’t as strong as the other three, they gave in.
One of the men snapped irritably, still holding indecision in his hand. He activated his ability.
His aura flared for an instant—violent, like a compressed flash.
He murmured something quickly. I didn’t catch the name of the ability.
But what happened next was unmistakable—and surreal.
The guard…
He turned into a bracelet.
A damn bracelet.
From my perspective it was even more unreal. I literally watched him reshape on a conceptual level like clay—folding into his conceptual core, so it could stretch and take the form of a bracelet.
It was the first time I’d ever seen something like that.
The bracelet dropped into the woman’s hand.
She took it naturally. Said something to the man who’d just stored a person inside himself—something that sounded like thanks.
The third one—the one left—snorted, as if it were normal, but it still pissed him off. Still, I could sense the worry. Each of them was worried about the woman.
“Guess it’s not kidnapping and torture.”
I mocked internally, just a little.
Because yeah, it was still kidnapping. Just without the fun part where they squeeze information out of the captive.
It didn’t take long for them to stop completely.
They’d arrived.
Before going up, the woman put on the bracelet, and it seemed to fuse into her skin. Her core and the guard’s core touched for a moment, and then the guard’s core overlaid hers—hiding it.
And then I saw something even more interesting.
She… became the guard.
Her body changed posture, proportions, weight. Her aura rearranged itself as if the guard had always been there.
From my perspective, the woman was gone. Well—more or less. I could still see both conceptual cores: one doing everything it could to hide the other, and a thin line on the guard’s arm symbolizing the bracelet.
Truly the first time I’d ever seen an ability like that.
All four climbed a maintenance ladder. A metal hatch opened above, letting in a strip of light.
I waited. I wanted to give them enough time to organize and do whatever it was they needed to do.
I made sure there wasn’t a fifth person lurking around with a nasty sense of humor, waiting for me to lower my guard.
Then I moved.
I climbed carefully, holding the basket with one hand, the other ready in case I had to break something.
The hatch gave way.
A little over fifteen minutes had passed since I’d gotten myself into this horrible situation, and finally I was getting out. I hoped I’d never have to do something like this again.
Once outside, what greeted me wasn’t what I expected.
It was a fairly large establishment, with an unrefined look. A protective field better than the royal palace’s covered it, making it harder to see inside.
That alone was enough to make me uneasy.
But what froze my blood was what I saw inside.
In the main room, at a distance I wished didn’t exist, were those three.
Azup, Torcax, and Pollux.
I honestly hadn’t expected to run into any Rank 8s during my entire trip. And on top of that, the bishop was with them.
“Great.”
I hadn’t realized it inside the sewer, but I’d been close this entire time to the beings I wanted to avoid during my stay in the capital.
And these “rebels” didn’t seem too worried about it.
Either they were suicidal.
Or they had a plan so stupid it was going to blow up in their faces.
I stayed still. I hadn’t even finished closing the sewer hatch, and I was already considering climbing back down.
The woman—now with the guard’s appearance—walked into the room as if she had every right to be there.
The other three followed, trying to look like some kind of lackeys.
And that’s when the real question surfaced:
“Should I follow them?”
The answer came immediately, even if I didn’t like it.
Yes.
Not only because, after getting this far, I had to know what the hell they were doing—what they were looking for. I needed to know I hadn’t wasted my time inside a disgusting drainage system, suffering through one of the worst days of my life.
Also, as risky as it was, I was curious about how much I’d narrowed the gap between a Rank 8 and me—last time, nine years ago, all I could do was run. I was a little anxious to prove that this time would be different.
And, well, it wouldn’t hurt to understand why this city was so messed up.
I had the strange feeling that something outside my control was happening behind the scenes, and my curiosity wouldn’t let me ignore it.
And, oddly enough, I wanted to know if I could help in any way.
It was hard to admit.
But I felt it anyway.
I secured the basket more tightly, adjusted the seal, and amplified my stealth a little more. As I moved through the shadows, there was no way I could use the main entrance.
“Ahh… why do I have to get myself into this mess?”
I was spacing out while looking for a way through—

