Cards and Cards
Evening settled in, cloaking the city in twilight.
I had just received dinner from Lucard and set it on the table in my room, waiting for the others to return.
"Why are they taking so long?"
Kals and Thomson had gone out under my orders to buy a few supplies.
Of course, given that we were now bona fide escapees, I'd mapped out a route that would keep them far from the city guards' patrols.
Their path led only through the back alleys—
a route where the only people they might encounter would be a few Black Society thugs.
And those guys? Kals could handle them with a couple of well-placed punches.
"Still… they're taking unusually long."
They should've been back before dinner.
What was going on?
Just then, the door swung open, and Tyrbaen walked in.
"Phew, a proper wash and rest at last. My body feels refreshed."
She strolled over casually and plopped down in front of the table.
"Master, the thing is—ah!"
I looked up absentmindedly… and immediately turned my gaze away.
The little witch sat on an old chair, legs crossed—wearing only a loose bathrobe.
She had something on underneath, probably, but still—
"Hm? What is it? Something on the floor?"
"There's nothing there, ma'am! Just—please, put on some proper clothes in front of your disciple!"
She might have the appearance of an old witch, but right now she was flashing her legs quite boldly.
And given that I knew her true form was that of a minor—
it made the situation even worse.
"Keheheh, what's wrong? Embarrassed? How cute."
"It's not embarrassment!"
"No?"
"It's a crime, that's what!"
What the hell is going through this brat's head?!
"Ugh, whatever. Kals will be back any minute anyway. You can't sit like that in front of him, can you?"
"Oh! Right, Sir Sillion will be here soon!"
Tyrbaen quickly tightened her robe and disappeared into her room.
...That somehow left a bad taste in my mouth.
So it's fine for me to see her like that, but not Kals?
'Guess I don't even count as a man, huh.'
Tragic. Truly tragic.
Still, from Tyrbaen's perspective, Gilroshan was nothing more than a troublesome disciple.
Given that she inherited the memories of all her previous incarnations—each of whom had their own disciples—it made sense that she saw me as a constant source of concern.
'Even if that's a pointless thought.'
Anyway—
"Damn it, Kals, what time do you call this? Did you fall into a sewer or something?"
As I grumbled, staring at the food growing cold—
"W-we're back, my lord!"
"Returned, sir… huff, huff."
Kals and Thomson burst through the door, panting.
"Hey, you two—!"
I was about to scold them when I stopped short.
"What the…? Why are you both sweating?"
They were drenched.
Here in Aulrax, the air was dry and cold—
sweating like that was almost impossible.
Yet they looked like they'd sprinted across the entire city.
That wasn't a good sign.
I sat them down, poured each a cup of water, and asked seriously,
"Don't tell me there was a fight? With the guards?"
They gulped their water, then shook their heads.
"No, sir. But it almost came to that."
"Yeah, we turned a corner and ran right into a patrol!"
"...What?"
That didn't make sense.
If they'd followed the route I'd planned, that couldn't have happened.
I'd made sure to route them far around the guard checkpoints—
they should have reached the shops safely, just taking a bit longer.
"You didn't take the wrong street, did you?"
"No, sir!"
"We swear we followed your directions exactly!"
I pressed again, but their next words only deepened my confusion.
"We really did, sir. But the city guards were out patrolling with wanted posters in hand."
"So I had to reroute us even farther—through the Black Society's hidden alleys where the guards never go."
"And?"
"Well, believe it or not, even those alleys had guards patrolling! We had to keep running and dodging to stay unseen."
"...The guards were patrolling the Black Society's alleys too?"
That told me everything.
The entire city of Aulrax was on heightened alert.
Normally, the guards patrolled fixed zones in rotation.
But when they started moving unpredictably and expanding their patrol range—
it meant only one thing.
'A citywide security escalation.'
But why?
What caused it?
'Did I really do something that big?'
I went over my recent actions in my head.
'After dropping into this place, the first quest I got was "Prison Break." Then it linked directly into the "Savior" quest.'
And then...
'I beat up some Black Society thugs in the black market mini-game, escaped, and came here to the tavern. That's it.'
Nothing major.
Security-level alerts like this didn't go out over small fry like escaped convicts.
That kind of mobilization only happened when a player from the Empire's army showed up and caused chaos in the middle of the city.
Wait.
'A player from the Empire's army...?'
A chill ran down my spine.
Right after we first arrived in Aulrax and were thrown into the underground prison,
High Priest Bamilo had come to us in secret.
He told us that the Titan Special Task Force had classified us as hostile elements—
and intended to either exile or execute us.
In other words, to every revolutionary faction except for the Eolem Grand Church,
we were considered enemies from the Empire.
..."Imperial Army players."
"Hostile elements from the Empire."
That was us.
Right now, the streets outside were crawling with guards hunting for the so-called Imperial escapees—
and we were the targets.
I pressed my hand to my forehead and sighed.
'Damn it. I should've factored in that I'm not a player character, but Prince Gilroshan himself.'
Just Thought About the Original
I'd been careless—
thinking only of the game's original storyline.
I'd grown overconfident, assuming I still remembered this city's every guard post and patrol pattern.
Because of that arrogance, I'd nearly gotten Kals and Thomson killed for nothing.
"My lord? I'm really hungry… may I start eating first?"
"Hey! You should show some manners! Even cold water has an order to drink it in!"
"Sir, this isn't cold water—it's hot soup!"
Watching the two bicker over food without realizing how close they'd come to death made me feel terribly guilty.
"...Go ahead, eat. Eat mine too. Want me to order more?"
"Thank you, sir!"
"Then I'll start!"
They must've been starving; both began devouring food like they hadn't eaten in days.
At that moment, Tyrbaen returned, now dressed in her usual clothes.
"Oh, Sir Sillion! Huh?"
She started smiling when she saw Kals had returned, but quickly blinked as she caught sight of my serious expression.
"What happened?"
No reason to hide it.
"The factions opposing the Eolem Church are moving faster than I expected. They've strengthened Aulrax's entire city guard to capture us."
"And that means...?"
"It means we'll need to move carefully. I'd rather not end my journey under a guillotine."
Kals froze mid-bite, salad fork trembling, and Tyrbaen swallowed dryly.
I gave a faint grin.
"No need to panic, though. We've got these."
"Hm?"
"Here, take them."
What I handed them were the forged identity cards that old Bamilo had prepared for us.
"What are these?"
"Our new identities—for the duration of this mess. Memorize your names and ages so you don't slip up if we're stopped for inspection."
Kals and Tyrbaen studied the fake IDs curiously—
Hic.
"...?"
"M-my lord! I didn't see anything! I swear!"
Thomson, mid-bite, went pale as a ghost, waving his hands frantically.
Kals and Tyrbaen exchanged glances—then burst into laughter.
"Scared, are we, Thomson?"
"Such a cowardly display for a man!"
"...Hic!"
I couldn't help chuckling too.
He probably thought we were just some small-time con artists on the run—
or maybe members of a shady mercenary band.
But now he'd overheard talk of Eolem Church opposition forces,
citywide lockdowns, and forged IDs.
'He's probably realizing he's in way deeper than he thought.'
Still, in my plan, Thomson actually had a rather safe role.
Time to set things in motion.
"Thomson, how'd you like to try being a city guard?"
"Eh?"
"I mean it. Ever dreamed of joining the city guard?"
"O-of course! Becoming a guard's been my dream since childhood, sir!"
Good. Then he wouldn't need a forged ID.
Not for the part I had in mind for him.
A petty back-alley thug turning into a city guard—
a small miracle in its own way.
"Just do exactly as I say. I'll make that dream come true."
"H-how do you mean, sir?"
"You're going to perform a very heroic act soon. Oh, and—you can pick pockets, right?"
"...?"
Catching Chero, the swindler, was laughably easy.
That guy was designed to be pathetically weak—
an NPC anyone could overpower.
'After all, whether you're a melee fighter or a mage, you have to be able to catch him and learn about Destiny Cards.'
At the same time, though, he was also immortal.
And for the same reason—
'You can't have the Destiny Card system break just because one NPC dies.'
So even if you killed him, he'd just reappear elsewhere—
identical, unchanged, eerily persistent.
In a way, it was downright creepy.
You could say Chero was effectively a godlike being in this world.
'Even if he's riddled with weird inconsistencies.'
Among players, he was known to have a few hidden pieces—
little secrets or easter eggs buried within Shin.Beor.Se .
'If getting smacked upside the head by the game counts as a hidden piece, then yeah—it's one of those.'
No doubt God Soft had done that on purpose.
Because no matter how hard players tried,
Destiny Cards were ultimately random draws.
Anyway, I was about to take advantage of that randomness.
"You ready, Thomson?"
"Y-yes, sir..."
It was dawn, the others still asleep.
I took Thomson out into a narrow alley, hiding in the shadows.
Before us, sprawled drunkenly on the ground, was an old man.
Chero, the Card Swindler.
Right on cue.
Next to me, Thomson swallowed nervously.
"What do I do now, sir?"
"Simple."
The plan was straightforward.
"Follow that man around all day—and keep slipping silver coins into his pocket."
"...Huh? S-sir, I must've misheard. You mean take the coins, right?"
"No, you heard me right. I'll give you fifty silver to start. Keep putting them into his pocket. Tell me when you run out."
"W-why would I do something so weird? Why not just keep them myself?"
"Shh! Try it, and you can say goodbye to your future as a city guard."
"Ugh..."
I handed him the pouch of silver.
He sighed but took it anyway.
Now everything was set.
'Time to draw a proper card.'
Chero despised silver coins—
almost like a vampire hates sunlight.
So what would happen if strange coins just kept appearing in his pocket out of nowhere?
I couldn't wait to find out.