My Creations Followed Me to Another World-Chapter 20: The Thieves Guild Welcome

The smell now was not the earthy rot of the forest.

This was a stench. A throat-clogging miasma of human waste, spoiled food, animal offal, and a faint tang of lye or some other industrial runoff. It was the smell of ten thousand people, all living on top of each other, and all of their waste finding its way to this single dripping archway.

In other word, it was disgusting.

Dante’s [Gourmet Meal] buff churned in his stomach. He fought the urge to gag.

Subject 47, encased in her sealed suit, was unfazed. She was a robot. She had already broken the rusted lock with a sickening crunch and had the heavy iron grate swung open a six feet.

She waded into the ankle-deep flowing filth inside the tunnel.

Then she stopped, turned, her black visor unreadable.

[Handler. Path is clear. Proceed.]

Dante, his face pale, took a deep breath. He held it. He put one sturdy boot onto the mossy stone of the sewer’s edge.

"Right. Let’s..."

"No."

The word was not loud.

It came from Hana.

Dante froze, his foot hovering.

He turned.

Hana was not looking at him. She was staring into the sewer.

Her maternal "Serene Valley" face was gone.

"My husband," she said, her voice low. "We are not."

"Hana, we have to," Dante hissed, his voice a desperate whisper. "The Spire. The magic police—"

She pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at the dark, flowing water. "That is sewer-lung. And you... you want to take that child..." she pointed at Shivvy, who had gone pale, "...into it?"

She finally turned, her warm brown eyes now hard, cold, and bright with an almost holy anger. "I will not allow it. This is... unacceptable."

She took a step, placing herself between Dante and the grate. A five-foot-four farmer was blocking his path.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why this? Why risk certain sickness? Why not just... Dismiss us? Hide the cart. Wait. Wait for night. Wait for a storm. Why risk her," she pointed at Shivvy again, "for... this?"

She had him.

Dante’s [Gourmet Meal]-buffed brain, which had been in Infiltration mode, snapped into Handler mode. He had to justify his actions.

"Because waiting is not an option," he said, his voice is low whisper. He pointed back toward the city gate, a mile away.

"One: I dismissed Rin-Rin because, as Alistair confirmed, she’s a Class-3 Unregistered Anomaly. She is a magical beacon of pure Chaos. And, as you know, the gate has Magic-Detection active. We would have been arrested before we took five steps."

Hana’s expression didn’t change, but she was listening.

"Two: I summoned 47 because she’s the only one on my entire roster who could find this. She’s a Level 50 Infiltrator. As you know, she found this service-level access and broke the lock. She is our key. She is essential to this."

He then pointed at Shivvy, who flinched.

"Three: I cannot dismiss Shivvy. She is our logistics. She is our entire [Inventory]. She’s holding all our silver. And she’s holding all our supplies. Furthermore, she is holding every single healing potion we own. Walking into a hostile city, broke and unsupplied, is guaranteed death. Her upkeep is one mana. She stays."

Hana’s gaze was still hard. ’And me?’ it seemed to say.

"And you," Dante said, his voice dropping, "I need you. Your [Gourmet Meal] buff is gave me +20% MP Regen. You know, Hana, my base regen is ten per hour. If buffed, it’s twelve. 47’s upkeep is four. Shivvy’s is one. Yours is two. Total: seven. I am net-positive +5 mana per hour because of you. Without your buff, I’d be at a net-loss. I would fail."

He took a breath. "And... you’re the one who suppressed Shivvy’s [Trauma] status. Basically you are the linchpin. You are my Mana battery and my psych-healer. Yeah in other words, you are also essential."

He had laid it all out to Hana using game logic.

Hana’s face softened.

She looked at the sewer. She looked at Shivvy.

Her Mom programming rebooted, but this time, it was in problem-solving mode.

"Fine. I don’t really understand. But still..." she snapped. "The filth was still a problem."

She turned to Shivvy.

"Child. Your [Inventory]. I need [Linen Cloth]. And the [Spirits]. The Apple-Jack from the farm."

Shivvy fumbled.

Blink. A stack of [Linen Cloth].

Blink. A small bottle of Serene Valley Saga’s [Apple-Jack (Potent)], a gift item he’d never used.

Hana worked.

Her [Crafting (Adept)] and [First Aid (Basic)] skills flared. Her hands were a blur.

She ripped the linen. Then, she soaked it in the high-proof spirits (a potent antiseptic).

"Here," she ordered. She thrust a bundle of the reeking alcohol-soaked cloth at Dante. "Tie this over your mouth and nose. It will function like a filter. The vapors."

She did the same for Shivvy.

Dante’s interface flashed.

[SYSTEM: You are affected by Hana’s Toxin-Filter (COMMON)!]

[STATUS: [Disease Resist: +50% (Temporary)]]

[Duration: 1:00:00]

Hana nodded, her work done.

"It’s a temporary solution."

She then looked at 47, who was still standing patiently in the sewer-filth.

"And she must carries Shivvy," Hana commanded. "No foot of that child touches that filth."

47, her [Handler] having made no objection, just nodded. She moved out of the sewer, her movements silent, and crouched in front of Shivvy.

Shivvy, her face now covered by a alcohol-soaked rag, just whimpered.

She climbed onto the back of the silent ghost-ninja. 47 stood, and Shivvy clinging to her like a tiny spider-monkey.

Now the team was ready.

Dante tied his own mask, the alcoholic fumes making his eyes water.

Finally, he took a squelching step into the sewer.

"Right," he muttered, his voice muffled. "Let’s go..."

But, suddenly...

"Oi."

The voice was new.

It came from the darkness. From inside the sewer tunnel.

Dante froze.

47 spun, her body dropping into a CQC-stance.

Hana yanked Shivvy back off 47’s back, pulling her behind her own apron.

"Who’s there?" Dante called, his voice sharp.

"Easy, Boss," the voice drawled.

A figure emerged from the shadows. He melted out of the darkness, like a part of it.

He was a man. Young. Wiry. He wore dark fitted leather, a hood pulled low, and a pair of very sharp-looking daggers at his belt, held in a reverse-grip.

He strolled out of the sewer, wiping his (surprisingly clean) boots on a dry stone.

He looked at Dante’s party. Then at the broken grate lock.

And he smiled.

"Well, now," he said, his voice a low, amused rasp. "You’re not the Sewer-Watch, huh. Or perhaps youre clientele."

He looked at 47. His smile widened. "Nice suit, by the way."

He looked at Shivvy. "And nice mask, little girl."

"Who are you?" Dante said, his hand instinctively reaching for... nothing. He had no weapons.

"I’m Jek," the man said, giving a lazy mocking bow. "I’m the welcome wagon of the guild. This is the Guild’s back door. And you just broke the lock."

Dante’s mind, buffed and racing, processed the new data.

Guild. Daggers. Back door. Sewer.

"The Mage’s Guild?" Dante asked, playing dumb.

Jek laughed. A sharp and ugly bark. "Gods, no, Boss. Not that Guild. The other one. The Thieves Guild."

He crossed his arms. "And this? This is our service entrance. The toll for using it... is usually an introduction. But for breaking it...?" He tapped his dagger. "That’s must be a fine."

Okay...

So,

The Spire were the "Cops."

The Temple were the "Zealots."

This was the Underworld.

This was the perfect "neutral" faction. Usually, they hated the Spire and the City Watch.

Dante relaxed.

Now he was in position of negotiate.

He took off his mask.

"A fine?" Dante said, his voice smooth. "We’re not travelers, Jek. We’re here for business."

Jek’s smile wavered. He raised an eyebrow.

Dante gestured, with his chin, at his team.

He gested at 47. The Assassin.

He gested at Shivvy. The Rogue.

"We just came to town, you know," Dante said. "And we kinda hate the checkpoints in gate."

He met Jek’s gaze. "We need three things. First, we need intel. Then we need a safe-house. And we need an introduction to your Guild."

Jek was silent. He stared at Dante. He wasn’t amused anymore.

He was impressed.

He looked at 47’s suit. That definitely was not local. That was expensive.

But then he looked at Dante’s clothes.

"A safe-house?" Jek mused. "An introduction? Big words, Boss. You look like you just fell off a farm-cart."

"But we’re not," Dante said.

"Shivvy."

Shivvy, still clinging to Hana, peeked out.

"The... fine," Dante said.

Shivvy, her hand trembling, held it out.

Blink.

The [Aethelgard Treasury Coin] appeared in her tiny palm.

Jek’s amused mask shattered.

His eyes bulged.

He knew gold. And that was not King’s Mint. That was ancient and pure.

He looked at Dante, his entire demeanor changing.

"New business, huh..." Jek whispered, his eyes on the coin.

And Dante just smiled.

The smile answered by grinned. A new, real, and very dangerous grin.

"I like your style, Boss," he said. He took the gold coin, his movements fast, and it vanished into his leathers.

"The... fine... is paid."

He turned. "And, welcome to Aethelburg."

"W-we’re... going... in there?" Hana whispered.

Jek looked at her. He laughed. "In that? Gods, no. You think we walk in the filth? You new business types are hilarious."

He walked over to the side wall of the tunnel. A wall that looked like solid, dripping stone.

He pushed a loose brick.

Scraaaape...

A section of the stone wall recessed and slid open, revealing a new tunnel.

This one was dry. It was clean. And it was lit by glowing blue-green moss. A stone path led into the darkness.

"Guild-members get the clean path," Jek said, winking. "Now... come on. Let’s get you to the Undercity. The Guild-Mistress is gonna love you."

Dante, his heart hammering, nodded.

Hana, seeing a clean path, visibly relaxed.

They were in. They had bypassed the Magic Police.

But they were now, apparently, new clients...

...of the city’s criminal element.

Dante motioned for his party to follow, and they stepped into the real back door of Aethelburg.