I Became the Narrow-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss

You must be crazy!

While peeking through slightly squinted eyes, I reflected on the thoughts of the one who dared to take a look.

Normally, if you squint all the time, opening your eyes a bit would just reveal a bit more of the iris.

But I didn’t read the information from the deep consciousness, fearing it might raise suspicion if I fully opened my eyes. However, I could roughly understand the situation from the memories that surfaced in my conscious mind.

He was a fanatic who believed, without a hint of doubt, that he would reach Bacchus’s Garden.

The preparation for the ceremony was outrageous.

Sikton was originally a close aide to the leader of the Bacchus Cult.

During a meeting of the Divine Cult, it was Sikton who first shared the news that the motion “Let’s become independent from the gods” was passed.

Sikton pretended to agree with the will of the Divine Cult while secretly plotting betrayal.

Bacchus is the god of pleasure and merriment. It was customary to host a festival before holding a meeting.

To coincide with the festival, Sikton poisoned the goblets of all cult members.

The poison he prepared wasn’t of the neurotoxin or bacterial toxin type, allowing him to remain unscathed even after drinking the same poison.

The poison Sikton used was a magical nanomachine—a swarm of tiny spirits divided from a single spirit into hundreds of thousands.

After the festival ended and as they prepared for the meeting, Sikton commanded the tiny spirits.

Having plunged the entire cult into a state of brain death, Sikton used the divine power within their bodies and others to perform the ceremony.

This cave was the very place where the conference of the Bacchus Cult was to be held.

“What a ridiculous human.”

Though I’ve never met the gods directly or heard their voice since coming to this world, wouldn’t it be common sense that a god wouldn’t praise someone who offered up their own followers as a sacrifice?

For now, the situation was settled. I should call Neuro, who’s waiting above, to check out this cave.

As a professional hunter, he would likely find traces of secret vaults and such.

He would definitely do better than I could.

*

Neuro descended into the deep cave, guided by Orthes. While the cave wasn’t lavish, there were signs of careful preparation. The smoothly carved floors and walls reflected the devotion of the Bacchus cultists.

“Orthes said a deal was struck with the enemy’s leader here.”

Upon entering a chamber on one side of the cave, there lay the corpse of an old man, his head separated from his body.

The purple robe was soaked in red blood. The blood-stained robe slowly changed from lavender to a deep purple.

Neuro carefully examined the corpse of the bishop from the Bacchus Cult.

‘…Nothing?’

There were no defensive marks at all, not even the will to resist.

Neuro gulped and flipped over the bishop’s severed head.

The head wore a smiling expression, similar to the smile often worn by Orthes himself.

The moment Neuro saw that smiling face, his heart raced.

No way. How could this even be?

Was it some kind of mind-affecting magic?

‘If he knew how to use brainwashing magic, he would have brainwashed Geryon instead of pressuring him with authority and force. It’s highly unlikely to be mental manipulation magic.’

Then how on earth did the enemy end up beheaded with a smile on their face?

Neuro contemplated further analysis of the bishop’s body, but he stopped. The fact that Orthes completely entrusted him with this scene indicated a level of trust had built up.

And that ‘trust’ likely included distinguishing what to say and what to leave unsaid, what to see and what to ignore.

Neuro thought of himself as a hunter. Until now, he had compared Orthes to a beast.

The most inexplicable beast he knew, and the boss who governed that beast.

However, upon rethinking, that was not something that could be called a beast at all. Neuro believed he could hunt any beast if only he had enough time and resources.

From wyverns, known as rulers of the sky, to desert death worms and mutated carnivorous mosquitoes influenced by demon stones, Neuro enjoyed hunting the formidable foes that had taken the lives of many hunters.

Orthes was far too peculiar to be compared to beasts existing in that reality. It was as if he was a monster from legends…

‘Ah-ha.’

So that’s why he was called Hydra. The multi-headed water serpent that a hero in mythology defeated, said to possess the deadliest poison in this world.

If Carisia was the immortal head of the Hydra, then Orthes was the Hydra’s deadly fangs.

There seemed to be nothing of value to salvage from the bishop’s corpse. There was a lingering power within the grapevine staff, but it was weak.

“Not enough to be called a relic. It seems to have received blessings from priests.”

For now, I’ll take it. Having a minuscule amount of divine power is better than having none at all.

As Neuro methodically checked each room starting from Sikton’s ceremony place, he placed a hand on the side of his gas mask, near the ear.

“Head of the Divine Investigation Office, this is Neuro. I have matters to confirm.”

It was for communication.

Neuro located a room filled with dozens of humans arranged in grotesque shapes.

These were the people from the Bacchus Cult that Sikton had turned into vegetative states.

*

“What do we do with these corpses?”

“Haha…”

A sigh involuntarily escaped. To be precise, they weren’t corpses at all. Nanomachines… no, tiny spirits merely stirred their brains, leaving them in a brain-dead state.

Their hearts hadn’t stopped, so they were still alive. Alive.

“They’re victims of the tiny spirit swarm.”

“What? The spirit poison? Even if they had replaced it with some enchantware, or rather, anyone who could handle that ability would have been unable to act due to being crushed by the Extraordinary Ability Field…”

I demonstrated a prayer-like gesture with my hands. These people were far from any jobs related to enchantware.

“…Indeed. The followers of superstition use divine power, so it was said they would be found at the Ten Towers? Their way of living, reducing their Extraordinary Ability Field, must have been instinctively ingrained in them. So, the spirit poison would indeed affect them.”

“If their brains are damaged, recovery chances are nearly nil, right?”

“I, too, have only rare experiences using spirit poison for hunting… but it would be seen as impossible. No potential for use.”

Kerlock!

A cough echoed from the corner of the room.

Neuro immediately drew his bow and aimed. Trembling and crawling with difficulty was a girl.

“I’ll kill you… I’ll kill…”

*

The girl looked blurry-eyed as she glanced at the two men. The one with a gas mask and another, someone she couldn’t even bring herself to look at directly, feeling it was disrespectful to raise her head.

A blue flame-like light seemed to flicker past.

“This is interesting. I thought everyone was in a brain-dead state.”

He knelt and lowered his waist. Their eyes met. A soft blue glow shone from inside his eyelids, appearing like fine silhouettes of blue lines.

Though his lips were curled upwards, it was hard to tell if his eyes, appearing as a line, were smiling.

As the masked man tried to say something, he raised his index finger, signaling ‘shh’. A gesture demanding silence. The masked man took a step back.

The man with the smiling face spoke.

“Do you recall what happened?”

“Sikton, Sikton is…”

“Yes. Bishop Sikton betrayed the people of the Bacchus Cult. What is your name?”

“Ki…ne.”

“Ki-ne.”

The man with the smiling face stroked his chin.

“Unfortunately, your family cannot return. The poison from Sikton has dug too deep. You must have had enchantware implanted in your body at some point?”

Ki-ne did not respond. Her wariness towards this unfamiliar figure began to operate, having been suppressed by a haze of pain.

“Look at your right hand. It seems something’s a bit off.”

However, futilely, the masked man quickly realized the prosthetic where Ki-ne’s right hand should be.

The cultists had refused to accept the implantation of enchantware touched by wicked sorcerers.

But childish Ki-ne’s right hand had to be amputated due to a mysterious infection, and they weren’t the kind of people who would cruelly deny her an enchantware even then.

Limited by their finances, they had settled for the cheapest available enchantware, fitting a part from the left hand onto the right, which was later severed.

She became the youngest and only user of enchantware among the cult members attending the Bacchus Cult convention.

“Alright, Ki-ne. Who did you want to kill?”

Ki-ne still didn’t answer. She had no idea what relationship these two had with Sikton, the person who killed everyone.

Everyone had been such kind people. Grandpa Teyeres, Grandma Agave, Uncle Penthus…

“Is it this person?”

The man with the smiling face placed a severed head before Ki-ne. The strangely smiling head was undoubtedly Sikton’s.

Ki-ne, seeing the severed head, realized the entire situation.

Sikton must have done a deal with Blasphemia, trailing behind the elders of the cult. Promising riches and power in exchange for wiping out the Bacchus Cult.

He intended to kill all the cult members as per their contract, only to be abandoned while proudly claiming his promised reward.

“You, you Blasphemia all──!!”

The girl shouted in fury but soon lost consciousness.

*

“What… was the intention?”

I shrugged. Neuro’s question likely meant, why did I leave the little girl Ki-ne alive.

It was because I had seen her before.

A girl mage who had received a wrong prosthetic, leaving her with two left hands.

In the original work.

“She had talent.”

“Talent?”

Left alone, she would have become a companion of the Mage King.

“Have you heard of the term corporate scholarship?”

Now, she is our rat.

---