Became the Patron of Villains

In a small clearing within a forest somewhere in the southern part of the Allied Kingdoms, five people sat together.

A gathering of four men and one woman.

“So, are we really doing this?”

“Yes.”

The woman was the first to speak.

She frowned as if she disapproved of the situation, but the man who answered, Tulman, wore a slow, unwavering smile.

“We are going to steal the property of Marquis Palatio.”

“No matter how I think about it, this seems insane—”

The woman voiced her dissatisfaction, and the man beside her nodded in agreement.

However, Tulman—a man with a large scar on his face and the leader of the infamous “Black Hand” organization within the Allied Kingdoms—spoke once again.

“No. We will do it. No, we must do it.”

“......Even if it means risking our lives?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is there really a reason to go that far?”

“Of course, there is.”

A confident smile spread across his face.

As the other executives eyed him with skepticism, Tulman pulled out a commission letter with an illustration attached and placed it before them.

“What is this?”

“A bracelet?”

As the executives slowly examined the document, their pupils gradually widened.

“...??!”

It was only natural.

The number of gold coins written at the bottom of the request was an amount so immense that it surpassed their very comprehension.

“......Is this real?”

“Yes. Just in case, I went and confirmed it myself.”

“We’ve handled quite a bit of money in our time, but this amount... Have we ever seen anything like it? More importantly, can they even pay this sum?”

“I already told you. I checked.”

At Tulman’s firm response, everyone’s jaws dropped.

This was... real?

In that case—

“It’s worth betting our lives on, isn’t it?”

“That’s true.”

“If you think about it, it’s not even a matter of life or death. We’re just stealing an item. What’s the big deal?”

“Well... it is Marquis Palatio, which is a little concerning—”

The man who had previously been voicing his opposition alongside the woman slowly nodded.

“To be honest, this is quite tempting. It’s not like we’re doing anything but stealing. That is our specialty, after all.”

“But what exactly is this bracelet for, to have such an absurd reward?”

A natural question.

However, Tulman dismissed it with ease.

“Does it matter? From our perspective, all we need to do is deliver the requested item and collect our payment.”

“That’s true.”

“Well then, since we’re all in agreement, shall we get started right away?”

As Tulman’s words settled in, the eyes of the executives—fixed on the commission—began to gleam with greed.

“Let’s start with a little reconnaissance.”

And, of course, in Tulman’s own eyes, a deep, insatiable greed flickered.

*****

About two weeks after their departure for Asteria—

“This is delicious—”

Alon, once again savoring his sweet potatoes, took a bite and—

[Kraaaah! I told you not to touch me!!]

—watched Basiliora, who was angrily shouting with his mouth still full, and Blackie, who ignored him entirely and continued to playfully smack him.

It made Alon suddenly think—

‘...Now that I think about it, Blackie keeps absorbing those monstrous entities, yet nothing much seems to be changing.’

Right after they had taken down the Apostle of Sloth, Blackie had absorbed Krakscha, who had turned to dust.

‘They said it would get stronger by devouring /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ them, but does it evolve all at once?’

As Alon pondered while chewing on his sweet potato, Blackie—who had been tormenting Basiliora—suddenly turned its gaze toward him.

Then it approached and started rubbing its face against Alon’s legs affectionately.

Feeling the unexpected show of affection, Alon gently stroked its head, sensing that it had been acting unusually affectionate lately.

‘It used to be more aloof.’

Although Blackie had always been fond of him—had it ever been this affectionate before?

As Alon found himself marveling at this change, Blackie continued its playful affection, all while sneaking occasional glances at the brooch hanging on Alon’s chest.

Just as Alon was about to tilt his head in curiosity—

“Marquis.”

Evan, who had been peeling a potato unlike the others, called out to him.

“What is it?”

“You remember those organizations you mentioned before? The ones I reported had vanished completely?”

“Ah, those?”

“Yes. You seemed a bit skeptical back then, so I did some extra digging, and it turns out they really are gone.

But ever since, that organization called ‘Black Hand’ has been running rampant.”

“Black Hand?”

“Yes. It was one of the names on the list you asked me to investigate, and apparently, they’ve grown quite notorious.”

“Hmm~”

Alon nodded while holding a sweet potato.

The Black Hand.

It was an organization he was very familiar with.

They were primarily involved in theft and human trafficking—and in Alon’s memories, they were an incredible nuisance.

For several reasons.

First, they were cowardly.

Unlike many other organizations in Psychedelia, the Black Hand never revealed their base of operations nor directly confronted opponents.

Instead, they persistently harassed players through means other than combat, making them far more troublesome than one might expect.

Furthermore, their structure was cellular.

Even if one executive was taken out, the overall organization remained largely unaffected.

On top of that—regardless of which kingdom a player started in—if their renown increased, the Black Hand always came after them.

Unless a player invested in specific stats, by the late game, they would have to eradicate the Black Hand completely—or else they would be continuously plagued by their relentless looting attempts.

For this reason, Psychedelia players absolutely despised the Black Hand.

Especially those who refused to distribute their stats according to the developer’s intended balance—and instead focused all their points into extreme builds for role-playing purposes.

To those players, the Black Hand was especially loathsome.

Naturally, Alon—who had once lost a valuable resource he had painstakingly gathered—hated them as well.

‘I’d love to avoid dealing with them if possible.’

But at the moment, there was no way to eradicate the Black Hand entirely.

With a sigh, Alon took another bite of his sweet potato.

“Hmm—”

The sweet potato was delicious.

And then—

Another week passed.

By the time Alon had nearly stabilized the magic he had been developing alongside Penia, the carriage finally arrived at the capital of the Asteria Kingdom—Teria.

And there, waiting for him—

“Hello, My Lord.”

“Yutia...?”

—was Yutia.

Wearing a bright smile as warm as sunlight, Yutia lowered her head in greeting.

Alon, watching her, asked,

“I didn’t expect to see you in Asteria. What brings you here?”

“I have a few things to take care of, but first and foremost, I need to meet with the Queen of Asteria.”

Alon nodded.

It wasn’t particularly unusual for a cardinal to visit a Queen.

Meanwhile, Yutia’s gaze dropped to the red brooch pinned to Alon’s chest pocket.

A soft smile appeared on her lips as she spoke.

“I’m glad to see you’re wearing the brooch.”

“It would be a waste to keep a gift as mere decoration.”

“I’m relieved. I was worried you might just store it away.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll wear it well.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then, will you promise me?”

With a casual motion, Yutia held out her pinky finger.

Alon, smiling faintly, hooked his pinky around hers.

After exchanging light pleasantries, the two walked together toward the royal castle of Asteria.

“Go in first. I’ll wait.”

“Thank you for your kindness, My Lord.”

Yutia gently bowed her head at Alon’s consideration, then headed into the audience chamber first.

After some time had passed—

“Marquis Palatio, we will escort you now.”

It was finally Alon’s turn.

A knight, bowing politely, guided him.

Following behind, Alon walked forward.

And once again, instead of being led to the audience chamber, he was directed to Siyan’s office.

“It’s been a while.”

“I greet Your Majesty.”

Alon bowed respectfully.

“Sit down first.”

Following the Queen’s invitation, Alon took a seat.

Siyan, wearing an amused expression, stared at him intently.

“I’ve been hearing quite a lot of exciting rumors again lately. Since you came to see me, I assume you’ve also been to Greynifra?”

“Yes.”

When Alon confirmed it, Siyan nodded in satisfaction, but then she quickly changed the subject.

“I’m quite curious about that as well, but first, there’s something I want to ask.”

“Please, go ahead.”

“Are you and Cardinal Yutia...”

Alon tilted his head, wondering why Yutia’s name had suddenly come up.

“...In love with each other?”

And at the unexpected words—

“...What?”

For a brief moment—

He almost lost his composure.

*****

Among the executives of the Black Hand, Foulton was known to possess the most outstanding stealth abilities.

At this very moment, he was observing Marquis Palatio from a cliff beyond the castle walls.

‘For all the overwhelming rumors, he doesn’t feel particularly special.’

That was Foulton’s first impression of the marquis.

He had heard plenty of rumors about Marquis Palatio before.

The stories were consistent.

Every single one praised his strength, claiming he was so powerful that even those who merely heard the tales couldn’t help but be in awe.

But contrary to those stories, the man before him was emotionless and cold, but otherwise, he seemed rather ordinary.

Not only that—judging by his own standards, Palatio’s abilities didn’t seem particularly remarkable either.

‘If I compare him to a mage... at best, he’s at the fourth tier... No, maybe the fifth tier now?’ 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Of course, he knew appearances weren’t everything.

Even with that in mind, the marquis looked far too normal.

A smirk naturally formed on Foulton’s lips.

“If it’s just this, not only could I steal from him, I could take him down myself.”

A murmured remark, full of ease.

Though it wasn’t entirely sincere.

Having survived in the underworld since childhood, Foulton never judged anyone solely by their appearance.

Even so, the fact that Palatio seemed this unimpressive was rather odd.

“Hmm...”

Foulton hesitated for a moment.

“You plan to take down Marquis Palatio?”

“Who else would I be talking about?”

“Why would you dare attempt that?”

Out of habit, he casually answered the voice beside him—

“This bastard is speaking so informally again. I’m trying to pull off one big job and finally retire—”

And then—he realized something was wrong.

Right now, he was alone.

He had been monitoring Marquis Palatio in hiding.

Meaning, he had no subordinates nearby.

No one was supposed to be here to ask him anything—and certainly, no one for him to answer.

Slowly turning his head, utterly confused, Foulton saw them.

“Tell me, what exactly do you plan to do to the marquis?”

Glaring straight at him—with expressions twisted into sheer hostility—were a group of elves.