I Became the Narrow-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss

Arabella desperately painted a natural smile.

“Where on earth did the information leak from?”

Of course, her inner thoughts were different.

Arabella herself was the head of the Information Guild of this city, and publicly she was just an ordinary human without any unusual traits, meaning she didn’t have any racial weaknesses.

Very few among the guild members knew that more than 70% of her physical body had been replaced with a magical body.

She didn’t manage the organization loosely. From the start, she had placed surveillance on the executives who could know about her abilities.

Naturally, neither Carisia nor Orthes had been in contact with Arabella’s members recently.

Orthes, wearing a grin that seemed to be hiding something, was looking at documents whose content he couldn’t decipher.

It had a faint impression that seemed like it could disappear right in front of his eyes if one didn’t focus on it, yet that was what made it even more chilling.

“Could it be that someone sneaked into my base with stealth magic? I thought there wasn’t a mage in this city who could be better at stealth than me…!”

Staying with his still-smiling face, Orthes continued casually.

“If I say anything wrong from now on, please correct me. It’s best to confirm personal information with the person themselves, after all.”

It was undoubtedly a threat.

Arabella could already guess what would happen to her fate if she shared anything that was false.

“Captured by the Lernian Faction, injected with the essence of the Arachnid Queen.”

This secret, even more deeply concealed than her magical body, slipped out of her mouth and was known only to her.

“Horrible memories resurface.”

It was usual for the impoverished, unable to use magic properly in this city, to be trampled upon, but a distinctive misfortune awaited Arabella among them.

“After the faction’s experiments, parts that changed irreversibly were excised and replaced with a new body.”

The building where Hydra Corporation currently resided used to be a mage tower operated by those called the Lernian Faction.

The three mage towers existing in Etna City were occupied by different factions. The Lernian Faction was the weakest in power among the three, but at the same time, they were the most brutal.

The way to charge the power source of the mage tower, the Mage Tower Core, had two primary methods: collecting excess magic from the atmosphere or having the members of the tower manually infuse magic into the core.

Though high-level mage towers could access assistance from the Ten Commandments, the Lernian Tower wasn’t that capable.

To increase the density of excess magic in the atmosphere, there needed to be magical beings abundant nearby.

In this world, being impoverished meant being a human with low magical capacity. And most of the areas under the control of the Lernian Faction were slums.

That’s why the Lernian Faction was a weak mage tower with little magic power, yet they could wield their power cruelly over those they ruled, who were also weak.

Arabella was among those caught in that grip of power.

“You’re processing the excised mutant tumors into servitors, and on the side, handling drones, right?”

With each word from Orthes, memories of the past flooded into Arabella’s mind: the mages of the Lernian Faction who had created her.

The ability to control the ‘bloodline’ gained through the essence of the spider queen, and the hacking capabilities acquired through modified limbs and a specially enhanced brain.

Modifications made to invade the Ether Space, a half-realistic realm created from the bizarre fusion of magic and electromagnetism.

Once upon a time, she was simply a spy tool for the Lernian Faction, a tyrant of the area.

“Is the original magic reduced? It seems there would be limitations, like it could only work on inanimate objects or things connected to you by magic. No need to share, of course.”

Arabella met Orthes’s faintly visible eyes.

Years had passed since she had disguised her escape as a death during a counterattack while hacking another faction’s tower. By now, her records would have long been disposed of.

At least one thing was certain: if there was any discrepancy in that information, the source would have vanished forever.

“I’m relieved. It seems there’s no incorrect information.”

‘Wasn’t this directly collected? Or some sort of deception?’

Arabella tried to pinpoint the clues from Orthes’s sentences.

At least one thing she could be sure of was that if there were any incorrect points in that information, the informant must have disappeared completely.

*

“I’m relieved. It seems there’s no incorrect information.”

When she wrote notes of stories from days gone by, she simultaneously summarized the abilities and tracks of the individuals that Carisia led in those stories.

Among the eight directors, Arabella looked the closest to the descriptions in the stories and appeared to have a relatively high loyalty level, so she asked and answered questions, and thankfully, her memory wasn’t too bad.

Therefore, what she needed to do next became clearer.

“I have something to ask…”

As she pondered who to meet next, Arabella opened her mouth. ‘Why is he speaking to me with respect?’

Sure, if it was Carisia.

“Director. Please don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“That. I don’t hold an official rank in Hydra Corporation.”

Because Carisia came from a noble family, she scrupulously adhered to a hierarchical structure like this.

After taking office as the boss, when she called him “boss” as usual, it led to a death beam three days ago, which proved that.

“The best I could get is as the boss’s secretary. You’re not in a position to treat me with respect.”

If Carisia had seen this scene, she might have exclaimed what she thought of workplace hierarchy.

If she had been born on Earth, she’d probably insist on respecting seniority and act all picky.

Arabella’s expression twisted oddly for a moment after hearing my words, then reverted. It wasn’t like I had said anything strange.

“Alright. I’ll stop using formalities.”

As Arabella lowered her head, her red hair spilled out from beneath her black veil.

Her black dress reminiscent of funeral attire, with the red hair, was like a spider with toxic spots on its black body.

Honestly, I first thought of Spider-Man rather than that.

Having forgotten modern things for the past few years, the realization that I was in a fictional world made me think of things from my original world.

“Ha, I haven’t watched the third animated movie with all those spider people… I wonder if it’s out by now.”

“The honorifics I’m using now aren’t intended differently; it’s just a habit. I use the same tone for other directors and you. I suppose it sounds strange if I go casual since it tends to cling oddly to people.”

Maybe because of the silence that followed while I was lost in thought, Arabella, thinking I was still uncomfortable with the continued formalities, began explaining.

“It’s not that I dislike hearing respect; it’s just that my boss—”

I thought about sharing some insights on Carisia’s temper, but I decided against it.

If Arabella reported everything she heard back to Carisia, the aftermath would be difficult to handle.

Instead, I said.

“Oh. Nice to meet you. Same here.”

I decided to build a rapport with a colleague I’d be seeing a lot from now on.

*

“I do it to avoid creating unnecessary hostility, but it seems to be taken suspiciously. It’s a sad thing.”

‘You just look suspicious, don’t you…!’

Arabella forcibly swallowed the cry that surged up to her throat.

She had guessed it from the strange loyalty displayed ever since he had mentioned not addressing others with respect besides Carisia.

Orthes’s mental state was surely abnormal.

Even though he was right in front of me, if one didn’t concentrate, it felt like his vague presence could vanish from view. When such a person spoke, wasn’t it natural to find even respect suspicious?

Usually, a smiling face left as good an impression as possible, but combined with that suspicious first impression, it inevitably came across as an unsettling grin.

And considering what he had done since arriving in Etna City, it wasn’t prejudice to think he was suspicious; it was closer to fact.

When Carisia was purging the Underworld with light, wasn’t Orthes, the one aiding in assassinations like a shadow?

After the lengthy discussion about respect and suspicion, Orthes let out a quiet, “Ah.”

“Ah, my apologies. I’ve kept a busy person like you for too long. Could you send in the next person?”

His casual command sent to Arabella.

It was intrinsic proof that Orthes himself saw him as higher than the eight directors of Hydra Corporation.

He was subtly showing Arabella who the number two in Hydra Corporation was.

‘And yet, he hesitates to be respectful as he might think it could infringe on Carisia’s authority? At this point, it rivals the fanaticism of cultists who believe in long-lost gods…’

“Who should I bring in?”

“Well, let’s see.”

Orthes stroked his chin. His gaze, previously dull, turned sharp in an instant. From beneath his eyelids, it seemed blue flames were igniting in the faintly visible pupils.

“Cretone. Please bring in Director Cretone.”

However, in the next moment, all that chilling aura vanished. What remained was just a suspiciously absent-smiled man.

Arabella bowed her head and turned her back.

“Ah.”

From behind, Orthes’s voice reached her.

“If I too have to go on a business trip after the boss, I’d ask you to take care of the oversight during that time.”

A command to monitor the other directors. Having understood why she was the first chosen for an interview without resistance, Arabella simply nodded in agreement.

‘To have both the number one and two absent right after the establishment; is this a loyalty test?’

Pondering this oddly timed situation, Arabella stepped out through the door.

*

Cretone was a giant.

Not just referring to being born with a robust physical body. He was practically a biological weapon, having survived after being infused with all sorts of modifications from the Lernian Tower and other mage towers.

His modified ocular implants were precise enough to observe human cells, and his body, flowing with troll blood, could stick back together in seconds even if his arm were torn off.

All the bones in his body had long been replaced with reinforced alloys. Cretone, called the “Butcher of Etna City,” was.

“What’s happening now…?”

“Sever all ties with the Torres Faction.”

‘He certainly must not have told anyone about this!’

“To be more precise, terminate the contract of supplying slaves to the Torres Faction in exchange for brainwashing magic engravings.”

Arabella found herself facing an incomprehensible void.

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