Disaster-Level Player Is Too Good at Broadcasting-Chapter 45: « Cut [4] »

"Is the vacancy still open, or did the last fool already lose his head to the shadows?"

Kang Min leaned against the rough-hewn timber of a notice board, his voice muffled slightly by the black fabric of his mask. He wasn’t looking at the parchment; he was looking at the stout man in rusted chainmail who was currently cursing at a stubborn nail.

"The Duke’s bounty?" The man snorted, finally hammering the notice into place. "Aye, it’s open. The ’Mercenary Knight’ position has a higher turnover rate than a cheap tavern’s kegs. Three men went into the breach yesterday. None of ’em came back with enough pieces to fill a bucket. You looking to be the fourth, traveller?"

"I’m looking for work," Kang Min replied simply.

"Well, you’ve got the build for it," the man muttered, finally turning to look at Kang Min. He paused, his eyes lingering on the black mask that obscured everything from the bridge of Min’s nose to his collarbone. Then, he shrugged. "At least you’ve got the sense to cover your face. The soot in the capital is thick enough to choke a dragon these days."

Kang Min nodded and stepped away, merging into the flow of the crowd heading toward the Great Gate of Valeria.

As he walked, he felt a strange sense of displacement. The simulation was perfect. The air tasted of jasmine and iron, a bittersweet scent that shouldn’t exist in a digital construct. The capital loomed ahead, its white stone walls scarred by black, oily streaks—the marks of the Dusk-Eaters.

He passed through the gates, blending effortlessly with the throng of people. To his left, a massive beastkin with the features of a mountain lion was hauling a cart of lumber, his muscles rippling under fur the color of sand. To his right, a group of merchants in silk robes were arguing with a city guard who had eyes like glowing embers.

In this world, a black mask was the least interesting thing a person could wear.

’That’s a relief,’ Min thought, his eyes scanning the familiar layout of the streets. ’I didn’t want to deal with the hassle of revealing my face. In a place where half the population has horns or fur, a piece of cloth is just a fashion choice.’

The city was exactly as he remembered from the Old World records. The architecture was a blend of high-fantasy elegance and brutalist defense. The further he walked toward the inner circle, the more the "Old World" nostalgia hit him. He knew where the hidden alleys led, which taverns watered down their ale, and which streets were prone to Abyssal leaks after midnight.

He needed a base of operations. The Mount of Eternal Cinder was a two-day trek from here, but the Duke’s recruitment happened at dawn.

He stopped in front of a three-story building with a hanging sign depicting a silver chalice entwined with blue vines. The Azure Thistle. It was a high-end inn, usually frequented by travelling mages and high-ranking mercenaries.

As he pushed open the heavy oak doors, the heat of the hearth washed over him. The common room was busy, but the atmosphere was surprisingly subdued.

"Welcome to the Thistle," a melodic voice chimed.

Kang Min walked toward the long, polished bar. Behind it stood three women, all moving with a synchronized efficiency that suggested they’d run this place for years. The one in the center, a woman with sharp features and hair the color of midnight, leaned her elbows on the counter.

"A traveller?" she asked, her eyes tracing the lines of his black mask. "Or a candidate for the Duke’s suicide squad?"

"Does it matter as long as I have the coin?" Min asked, reaching into his pouch and dropping a few silver pieces onto the wood.

"Fair point," she laughed, catching a coin in the air. "I’m Elena, the keeper of this madhouse. These are my sisters, Miri and Talia."

The girl to her left, Miri, was busy polishing glasses. She gave Min a shy, curious look. "You’re quiet for a mercenary. Usually, the ones going for the Knight vacancy spend their last night bragging about how they’re going to slay the Abyss."

"Bragging doesn’t kill demons," Min said.

"He’s got a point, Miri," the third sister, Talia, added as she walked by with a tray of roasted meats. She paused by Kang Min, her eyes lingering on the hilt of the blade at his hip. "You look like you know how to use that. Most of the boys the Duke hires just know how to wave them around until they get eaten." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"I know my way around a fight," Min replied, keeping his tone neutral. He wasn’t here for small talk, but he needed to maintain the "mercenary" persona to avoid raising flags in the simulation’s logic.

Elena slid a heavy iron key across the bar toward him. "Room 302. Top floor, furthest from the street noise. You’ll want the sleep if you’re heading to the palace tomorrow. The Duke’s recruiters are in a foul mood lately—they’ve lost too many men, and the pay is getting desperate."

"Thanks," Min said, taking the key.

"Dinner is served for another hour if you’re hungry," Miri called out as he turned toward the stairs. "Talia makes a stew that can wake the dead."

"I’ll pass," Min said, his foot already on the first step. "I have a long day tomorrow."

He climbed the stairs, the wood creaking familiarly under his boots. On the second landing, he passed a group of female mages draped in violet robes, their voices hushed as they discussed the stability of the city’s wards. They glanced at his mask, their eyes flickering with mana-sight, but they found nothing but the cold, steady presence of a man who didn’t belong to their story.

He reached the third floor and found 302. He stepped inside and locked the door behind him.

The room was simple but clean. A sturdy bed, a washbasin, and a window that overlooked the glowing spires of the inner sanctum. Kang Min set his gear down and walked to the window.