The next morning, sunlight streamed through the narrow gap beside the room’s small window.
Lucien sat up on the hard wooden bed and instinctively tapped several times in empty space.
He opened the system interface and checked his status.
Health full.
Mana full.
The daily use limits on his special abilities had all reset to maximum.
Everything was normal.
Lucien climbed out of bed, washed quickly with cold water, and opened the door to head downstairs.
He also confirmed that his passive abilities were functioning properly and that his mana reserves were stable.
At the top of the stairs, Yuri was already standing perfectly straight and waiting for him.
The moment she saw Lucien, she bowed slightly, folding both hands neatly over her abdomen.
“Good morning, Lord Lucien.” Yuri’s voice was gentle and composed, carrying the dependable air of someone who always had everything under control.
“Morning.” Lucien walked downstairs while tightening the straps around his sleeves.
“You’re up early.” “I was going to head out and buy breakfast, then walk around the city for a while.” “Do you need anything?
I can bring it back with me.” The moment she heard that, Yuri straightened immediately and stepped forward half a pace.
“Lord Lucien, please leave such trivial errands to me.” There was a clear trace of disapproval in her voice.
“As your personal maid, allowing you to personally go out and purchase food would be a serious failure on my part.” She paused and adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose before continuing with meticulous seriousness.
“Before Lord Ainz assigned me to serve you, he specifically provided a sum of money for your daily necessities and for improving your living conditions.” “None of those funds have been used yet.” “I should therefore be the one purchasing your meals and furnishing the residence.” “However, I still don’t know your preferences well enough to determine how the money should be spent.” A separate living allowance?
Ainz really had thought of everything.
He had even prepared a household budget in advance.
Although the money sounded suspiciously familiar.
It was probably Lucien’s own money coming back around.
“You don’t have to be so formal about everything.” Lucien waved a hand and walked to the table.
He poured himself a cup of cool water and drank it.
“I wanted to get some fresh air anyway.” “I’ll look around the city while I’m out and gather some basic information.” “As for the money Ainz gave you…” Lucien looked at the perfectly serious maid in front of him.
“If you ever need ordinary supplies, or you see some small thing you happen to like, use that money.” “The expenses can go on my account.” “You don’t have to spend all of it on me.” Yuri shook her head slightly.
Her expression carried the stubborn certainty of someone who considered the matter obvious, along with a faint pride belonging to a creation of Nazarick.
“Thank you for your generosity, my lord.” Yuri lowered her head.
“But I do not believe there is anything I need to purchase.” “The Supreme Beings already granted us everything we require when they created us.” She raised one white-gloved hand and lightly touched the maid uniform beneath her gray outer garment.
“I do not need food.” “I do not require sleep.” “This clothing was bestowed upon me by the Supreme Beings.
It possesses automatic cleaning and restoration properties and is already more than sufficient.” “Beyond that, I have no material desires.” “My purpose is to serve the Supreme Beings and those whom they hold dear.” Lucien had some difficulty understanding that mindset.
He could hardly imagine a life without material wants or personal needs.
Then again, when he thought about it, the explanation made sense.
Yuri was a Zombie and a Dullahan.
Fundamentally, she was completely undead.
Trying to understand her mental state from a human perspective was bound to be difficult.
She already possessed all the equipment she needed.
Her accessories suited her perfectly.
She did not need food or drink.
She had no metabolism, and with an appearance like hers, cosmetics were hardly necessary either.
Lucien honestly struggled to think of anything she might spend money on.
What was he supposed to suggest?
Buying expensive neck cream so she could remove her head every night and moisturize the seam?
At that point, Lucien stopped trying to persuade her.
“Fine.
Do whatever you prefer.” He walked toward the entrance and pushed open the worn wooden door.
“I’m going out for a while.” “You can stay here and rest, or go out if you feel like it.” “If you do leave, just be careful.” “Understood, Lord Lucien.” Yuri folded her hands neatly and bowed.
“I hope you have a pleasant outing.” At the boundary between the common district and the commercial district, vendors had already set up their stalls.
Shouts advertising goods mixed with wagon wheels and the conversations of pedestrians, creating the distinct morning bustle of a city in the New World.
Lucien bought two golden, crisp meat pastries from a roadside stall.
At the neighboring drink stand, he added a cup of fruit tea served at room temperature.
As he walked, he kept his enhanced hearing active and listened to conversations around him.
Based on his expectations, news about the undead attack the previous night should already have spread throughout the city.
That meant people probably would not be gossiping about much else today.
He was right.
“Did you hear what happened last night?
Something terrible happened near the cemetery outside the city!” A carrot seller excitedly told a customer.
“More than a thousand undead crawled out of the ground!
They almost broke through the city walls!” “That’s nothing!
I heard there was a Skeletal Dragon so huge that one swipe of its claws could smash a crater into the road!” “Thank the gods the Warrior Captain was there!” “And there were two incredibly powerful adventurers helping him!” A passing man dressed like a mercenary joined the conversation, his voice filled with admiration.
“They say that black-armored swordsman named Momon was nearly as strong as the Warrior Captain himself!” “At the end, he supposedly split the Skeletal Dragon’s skull apart with a single strike!” “And that beautiful magic caster Nabe…” “Her lightning magic was like divine punishment!” “One spell killed dozens of undead!” “You know that much detail?” “My cousin serves in the city guard!” “What a terrifying night.” “May the gods protect the Warrior Captain, Lord Momon, and Lady Nabe…” Lucien quietly finished his breakfast while listening to the increasingly exaggerated rumors.
He was very pleased.
Public opinion was developing perfectly.
Ainz wanted Momon to become famous.
And everyone’s attention was focused entirely on Momon, Nabe, and Gazef, the three heroes who had fought openly on the frontline.
No one knew that a mysterious assassin had slipped behind the undead army and eliminated Zuranon’s entire senior command structure by himself.
That was exactly the result Lucien wanted.
He thought back to the days when he had worked as a professional raid mercenary in YGGDRASIL.
Back then, reputation had been necessary.
Reputation meant clients.
Clients meant money.
Whenever business was slow, Lucien had deliberately attempted increasingly difficult feats.
No-damage clears of high-difficulty content.
Mechanical showcases.
Equipment demonstrations.
Anything impressive enough to attract wealthy players who barely understood the dungeon but had more money than skill.
But this was not a game.
This was a real world.
An assassin’s deterrence came from uncertainty and darkness.
Becoming too famous was dangerous.
The current arrangement suited Lucien perfectly.
Ainz could wear his imposing black armor, attract attention in public, build connections, and establish a reputation.
Lucien would remain hidden, quietly studying opponents from the shadows and only striking when necessary.
Without noticing how far he had walked, Lucien eventually left the noisy commercial streets and entered E-Rantel’s wealthy district.
The difference from the common district was enormous.
The streets were broader and considerably smoother.
Clean blue-gray stone slabs covered the ground.
There was not even the usual smell of open drains.
The buildings on both sides had become large and elaborate stone villas.
Each possessed its own private garden.
Decorative iron gates stood at their entrances, and some even had armed private guards wearing matching uniforms.
Lucien found a bench beneath the shade of a tree and sat down.
He slowly finished the remaining half of his fruit tea while discreetly observing the people passing by.
He had a very specific reason for coming here.
While remaining cautious about the possible existence of other players, he also needed to choose a target and obtain some spending money.
He had very few silver coins left.
Even after adding Nfirea’s final payment from the previous night, Lucien only had a little over twenty silver pieces.
That was enough for ordinary daily expenses for some time.
But anything remotely expensive was already beyond his budget.
At that moment, two well-dressed household stewards approached from nearby.
They apparently knew each other and stopped beside the road to talk.
“You’re out early.
Where are you headed?” The heavier of the two asked.
“To the tailor.
I’m picking up a formal outfit that was ordered half a month ago.” The thinner steward looked at him.
“What about you?
You seem to be in a hurry.” The heavier man sighed.
“The young lady of the house is in a terrible mood today and decided she wants ice cream.” “I have to get to the icehouse and stand in line.” “If I arrive too late and they’re sold out, I’ll have to listen to her complain all day.” “Then you’d better hurry.” “They only sell a few portions each day.” “I won’t keep you.” Lucien’s ears twitched at the words ice cream.
He had been in this world for nearly a month, yet he had never realized that a society with roughly medieval technology had access to frozen desserts.
Was it made with some kind of ice-element magic item?
Now that he had heard about it, he suddenly wanted some.
Lucien stood and decided to follow the heavier steward.
He wanted to see what ice cream from the New World tasted like and learn where the place was.
He had only gone half a street before encountering someone familiar.
Gazef Stronoff.
Today, the Warrior Captain wore practical civilian clothing with a sword at his waist.
His stride was steady and powerful.
Several guards followed behind him as he headed toward the city gates.
When Gazef noticed Lucien’s somewhat familiar face, his eyes brightened.
He immediately stopped and approached him.
“Mr.
Vale!
I didn’t expect to run into you here.” Gazef’s attitude was extremely courteous, with even a trace of respect.
He remembered Lucien’s face.
A few days earlier, this young man had helped carry him to the municipal infirmary.
Gazef had been meaning to visit and thank him personally, but recent events had left him with no free time.
“Those injuries were severe.
You’ve already recovered?” Lucien responded politely and glanced over Gazef.
“Congratulations on being discharged.” “Are you leaving the city?” “Thanks to your help that night, along with the infirmary’s treatment, I’ve made a full recovery.” Gazef laughed openly.
“I’m not from E-Rantel.
I’m returning to the Royal Capital today.” He looked around at the wealthy district.
“Are you here this early because of some important commission?” “No commission.” Lucien pointed farther down the street.
“I heard someone mention a shop selling ice cream.” “I was going to buy some and see what it tastes like.” The casual answer made Gazef pause.
He looked Lucien over with mild surprise.
The young man was dressed plainly.
There were no expensive accessories anywhere on him.
His build was lean rather than heavily muscular, so he did not appear to be a strength-focused warrior.
Gazef also sensed no obvious magical presence from him, making him unlikely to be a conventional magic caster.
Gazef had subconsciously assumed Lucien was an adventurer.
More specifically, the sort who lived rather modestly.
Apparently, he had underestimated him.
Gazef smiled warmly.
“I didn’t realize that someone as kindhearted as you was also so financially comfortable.” Lucien looked slightly confused.
“Financially comfortable?” Realizing Lucien might not know the local prices, Gazef explained patiently.
“You may not pay much attention to ordinary market prices.” “At this time of year, keeping an icehouse cold requires a large number of low-tier ice-element magic items.” “Specialized magic casters also have to be hired to recharge them regularly.” “The operating cost is extremely high.” “Even the smallest serving of ice cream costs four silver coins.” Lucien’s eyes widened slightly.
Four silver coins?
He had already learned the general cost of living in the common district.
The ordinary inn where Ainz and Nabe stayed only charged a few copper coins per night.
Even that was considered somewhat extravagant among lower-ranked adventurers.
Many chose cheaper shared rooms and packed several people together.
In this region, one silver coin was worth thirteen copper coins.
In other words, one small serving of ice cream cost roughly as much as more than a week of food and lodging for a Copper-ranked adventurer.
Possibly even more.
Gazef noticed the brief surprise that crossed Lucien’s face.
He immediately assumed the opposite conclusion.
Perhaps that amount was so trivial to Lucien that he simply had never bothered remembering the price.
“Forgive me.” Gazef smiled awkwardly.
“I suppose I was making too much of it.” “For someone as generous as you, being wealthy is hardly surprising.” “Spending a few silver coins on an occasional luxury shouldn’t mean much.” “Right…” Lucien laughed lightly.
“Just trying something different once in a while.” The two exchanged a few more polite words before Gazef departed with his guards.
Lucien watched the Warrior Captain disappear into the distance.
Then the smile gradually faded from his face.
He quietly warned himself.
Reacting so visibly to the price of something as ordinary as ice cream was strange by local standards.
Gazef had simply not been suspicious enough to notice.
Someone trained in intelligence work, however, might have caught the tiny expression immediately.
From that alone, they could infer that the young man walking through a wealthy district lacked even basic knowledge of local prices.
They might also notice that he understood little about the cost of magic items.
From there, it would not be difficult to conclude that he was not local.
Further investigation would reveal an unclear background and no verifiable history.
The better outcome would be suspicion that he was a foreign spy.
The worse outcome was drawing the attention of another player.
Small details could ruin everything.
“I’ll have to control my expressions better around the people of this world.” Lucien committed the lesson to memory.
The price was expensive, but he had already come this far.
He followed the street until he found the icehouse and spent five silver coins on a medium serving of vanilla ice cream.
It tasted surprisingly good.
The milk flavor was rich, and tiny ice crystals could be felt throughout it.
It was clearly a product of magical refrigeration.
After finishing the ice cream, Lucien turned to his actual business.
He began scouting the wealthy district.
Finding a concealed corner, Lucien activated Detect Concealment and Magic Detection.
Using several different methods, he carefully examined the surrounding area.
There were no beings nearby capable of threatening him.
There were also no hidden high-level magic formations or anti-stealth barriers.
The area was safe.
After some consideration, Lucien’s attention settled on the largest and most luxurious three-story stone villa on the street.
Elaborate reliefs decorated its outer walls.
Gold leaf had been worked into the front gate.
The surrounding wall was extremely high and protected by simple anti-theft magic.
Anyone could tell that the owner was extremely wealthy.
“This one.” Lucien activated Invisibility.
His body disappeared into the air.
He lightly cleared the high wall, avoided the magical alarm placed along the top, and entered the villa’s grounds without making a sound.
The courtyard contained an elaborate fountain and carefully maintained flowerbeds.
Several servants wearing matching uniforms were quietly trimming plants.
Lucien had barely approached the rear entrance of the main building when he heard a sharp, unpleasant voice shouting from inside.
“Are all of you useless idiots blind?!” A middle-aged man who appeared to be the household steward stood there wearing a fitted formal coat.
Several servants were kneeling in front of him while he berated them.
“You call this clean?” “If the young lady gets dirt on her new deerskin boots because of your carelessness, do you think any of you can afford to replace them?” His voice was shrill and condescending.
A thin cane rested in one hand.
Whenever his anger rose, he snapped it sharply through the air.
Every servant flinched at the sound.
Clearly, they had felt that cane before.
“Listen carefully!” “If the young lady becomes angry over this, I’ll make every last one of you get down on the floor and clean it with your tongues!” “Do you understand me?!” The kneeling servants trembled.
Their heads were lowered almost to the floor.
None of them even dared breathe loudly.
Lucien stood invisibly outside the doorway and watched coldly.
Until now, he had still felt a faint amount of guilt about coming to the wealthy district to steal money.
After all, there was no noble justification for it.
It was theft.
He had mostly excused himself with the thought that taking a little from the wealthy would not meaningfully hurt them, combined with the fact that assassin classes had always overlapped heavily with thief builds anyway.
He also never intended to repeatedly target the same household.
A single pouch of coins meant very little to people this rich.
But after seeing the steward’s arrogant cruelty toward the servants, the last trace of Lucien’s guilt disappeared.
The man’s behavior reminded him far too much of privileged people who treated everyone beneath them as disposable.
That settled it.
This household would be his target.
(To be continued.)