Death Guns In Another World-Chapter 2051: Velria

Velria’s gates loomed behind Alex, the weight of the city’s atmosphere settling over him like a second cloak. The streets were lively, filled with laughter and the clatter of wheels, yet beneath the cheerful glow of lanterns, Alex sensed something off. Smiles felt too tight. Guards flinched at shadows. Even the street performers who juggled flame and steel in the plazas had an edge of desperation in their voices.

It was a city that wanted to appear alive, but behind the curtain... something rotten was emanating from the city.

Alex pulled his cloak tighter and walked with the ease of someone who belonged. His forged papers—signed by the guild master of Avila himself—would make sure of that. Still, he knew better than to present himself at the guild immediately. First impressions mattered, but timing mattered more. He needed the right stage.

The inn he chose wasn’t the grandest in Velria, but it had three things Alex valued: space, anonymity, and information.

"Welcome to the Gilded Mare!" chirped the innkeeper, a round woman with tired eyes.

"Room for one, sir? Or do you require... company?"

Her eyes flicked knowingly toward the staircase where giggling girls lingered. Alex’s crimson gaze lingered a moment, then softened into a charming smile.

"Just a room. For now," he said smoothly. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Coins clinked, keys exchanged, and soon he was seated in the common room, a mug of watered-down ale before him. Around him, adventurers swapped rumors, merchants whispered about caravans, and guards tried to drink away their nerves. He listened, silent.

Missing children.

Merchants disappearing after nightfall.

A noble house that suddenly rose in influence these past months.

Bits of puzzle pieces floated toward him, but not enough to form the picture.

When he finally rose, it was without drawing attention. He slipped upstairs, entered his room, and locked the door. From his coat, he retrieved the sealed envelope. His thumb broke the wax.

Inside was a folded letter, written in the sharp script of the vice guild leader:

"Your contact in Velria is named Serah Veyne. Adventurer, Silver Rank. She frequents the guild hall’s archives, claiming to be a scholar of old magic. She knows to expect you. Approach her carefully—her loyalty is to knowledge above all else."

Beneath it was a smaller slip of parchment. A crude drawing of a sigil: a snake biting its own tail.

Ouroboros.

Alex’s eyes narrowed. That symbol had followed him since his early battles, whispered in shadows. A secret organization, always lurking near corruption and abominations.

"So it’s you again," he murmured, folding the paper away.

His mission had grown clearer.

The next morning, Alex walked into Velria’s Adventurer Guild.

If Avila’s guild hall had been a proud fortress of warriors, Velria’s was a polished palace of commerce. Its marble floors gleamed, its chandeliers sparkled, and attendants in immaculate uniforms rushed to and fro. The guild wasn’t just an adventurer hub here—it was a financial powerhouse.

Dozens of adventurers filled the main hall. Alex’s arrival drew glances—curious, skeptical, some openly appraising. Word of a Black Rank arriving from Avila traveled fast.

"Papers, please," said a receptionist, her voice polite but cautious.

Alex slid the forged documents across the counter. She checked, frowned faintly, then widened her eyes. Her tone shifted instantly, sugar-sweet.

"Black Rank! Welcome to Velria, sir. Please wait while I inform the branch master of your arrival."

Murmurs spread. Adventurers turned to stare openly now. Some sneered, others whispered. A few women tilted their heads, considering.

Alex ignored them all.

Instead, he scanned the hall until he found her: a young woman sitting alone near the archives, her dark hair falling in a sheet over one shoulder. She wore scholar’s robes, not armor, and her pale fingers turned the pages of a leather-bound tome. Her eyes, sharp and violet, flicked up once—meeting his with startling precision.

Serah Veyne.

Alex walked toward her with measured steps.

"You’re Serah," he said, voice low enough not to carry.

Her lips curved, not quite a smile. "And you must be Avila’s transfer. Black Rank, was it? I expected someone older."

Alex slid into the seat across from her, resting one elbow on the table.

"Disappointed?"

Her violet gaze lingered on him a moment too long. "Not yet."

She closed her book softly, sliding it aside. "I know why you’re here. Or at least, the version the guild allows. You’re here to investigate the disappearances, yes?"

Alex’s brow arched. "You’re well-informed."

"I make it my business to be," she replied coolly. "But what they didn’t tell you—what they couldn’t—is that Velria’s corruption isn’t random. It’s structured. Organized. And the deeper you dig, the more dangerous it gets."

Alex leaned back, watching her carefully. She wasn’t rattled by his presence, nor by his rank. That intrigued him.

"Then tell me," he said. "What do you know?"

Serah tapped a finger against the table, thoughtful. "People disappear, yes. But the pattern is precise. Only those without strong family ties. Only those whose absence won’t shake the city’s order. And those who reappear..."

She paused. Her violet eyes hardened.

"They’re not themselves anymore. They become something else. Monsters wearing human skin. At least for a time."

Her words matched the guild master’s warning. But hearing it spoken aloud, in a city so alive with false normalcy, gave it weight.

"And this organization behind it?" Alex asked.

She hesitated. "I can’t prove it yet. But I’ve seen the sigil in hidden places. Ouroboros. You’ve heard of it?"

Alex’s lips curved faintly. "We’ve crossed paths."

That earned him her first genuine smile, sharp and edged. "Then perhaps you’re exactly who we need."

The guild’s branch master, a plump man with golden chains on his vest, called Alex into his office later that afternoon. He was polite, overly so, bowing and flattering, eager to welcome a Black Rank under his jurisdiction. He offered Alex access to resources, exclusive missions, even lodging in the guild’s private wing.

Alex accepted with charming grace, though inwardly he filed the man away as either corrupt or dangerously incompetent. The branch master’s eyes darted too much. His smile stretched too wide.

Back in the hall, Serah intercepted him.

"You draw attention just by breathing," she said dryly.

"Then let’s make use of it," Alex replied.

That night, they walked the streets of Velria together, cloaked in shadow. The city was different after sunset. Merchants vanished, replaced by cloaked figures whispering in alleys. The guards were tighter, their eyes darting to every shadow. And the air—thicker, heavier, laced with the metallic tang Alex had smelled before.

They stopped near a side street where the lanterns had burned out.

Serah whispered, "This is where the last body was found."

Alex crouched, fingertips brushing the cobblestones. A faint, dried smear caught his eye—a trail of crimson, almost invisible in the dark. His senses sharpened, Law of Shadows flickering at the edge of his will.

Then he heard it.

A low, guttural growl.

From deeper in the alley, a figure staggered into view. At first glance, it looked human—a man in a tattered cloak. But as it stepped closer, the illusion fell apart. Its skin bubbled unnaturally, shifting like liquid. Fingers elongated into claws. Its jaw cracked as it opened, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

Serah gasped softly. "Another one..."

The creature’s head snapped toward them, eyes glowing faintly with sickly light. It shrieked—and lunged.

Alex moved before Serah could blink. His hand rose, shadows coiling like serpents around his arm. With a flick, they lashed forward, striking the beast mid-leap. It screamed as tendrils of darkness pinned it against the wall, writhing.

Up close, its face still held hints of humanity. A man’s features twisted beyond recognition, skin crawling as though something inside fought to break free.

"Help... me..." it rasped.

Serah’s expression faltered. "It’s still—"

"Not anymore," Alex said coldly.

Shadows surged, piercing through its chest. The creature convulsed, then went still, collapsing into ash that scattered in the night breeze.

For a long moment, the alley was silent. Only the flicker of torchlight from the main street touched the edges.

Serah finally spoke. "...Efficient."

Alex’s eyes glowed faintly in the dark. "This city is rotting from the inside. The question is—how deep does it go?"

And for the first time, Serah’s confident facade cracked. She whispered, almost to herself:

"Deeper than you can imagine."