Monster Evolution System: I became a Rat-Chapter 102: Rose Republic

Krodeshas turned toward Rosacer, then back to Gringha.

"And what are you going to offer for that?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

Gringha cleared his throat and crouched beside his baggage. From within, he carefully pulled out an old, broken compass etched with ancient symbols.

"I know you have been trying to find the Ramesses," he said, holding the compass up for her to see. "This is the key."

"What?" Krodeshas frowned, already turning as if to walk away.

"Wait," Gringha called out quickly. He flipped open the lid and revealed the dial within.

The needle did not point north. It trembled faintly, as though sensing something beyond ordinary direction.

"This is Odysseus’s Compass," he said.

"It can find anything in the world that is not hidden by magic."

Krodeshas did not speak for a while.

She stepped closer instead.

Her fingers brushed the lid of the compass before she slowly opened it herself. The needle trembled on her touch.

Her silver eyes narrowed.

"You tested it?" she asked.

"Yes," Gringha replied.

"And?"

"It works"

She went silent again.

Then she shut the lid and straightened.

"You can stay," she said. "Upstairs. Do not touch my lower chambers. If this is fake, I will carve your heart out of you myself."

Gringha gave a short nod. "Fair."

Rosacer said nothing.

"Let’s settle." Gringha muttered to Rosacer as he picked up his bag.

That night the city, like always the city churned with machine noise and a distant cry in the lower district.

THe bellowing cry was so much that, the half the people of the city didn’t slept, they stayed awaked in fright.

Rosacer and Gringha too heard it, they exchanged glances before they each turned back to sleep.

"Tommorrow is a big day, I might be able to contact, Amara, sleep tight." Gringha said.

Rosacer didn’t repied, he chose to stay silent.

But inwardly he muttering to himself, "What was that noise? I better check it out, it seemed like someone need help."

He had already bought the map from Eren back in Vermis, so he was well aware, the location was lower district, from where the noise came.

Suddenly, there was other noise, this one close.

Rosacer stood near the window of the small upper room. The glass was so layered with grease that the outside world looked like it was drowning.

The shard in his pocket twitched.

His hair started to tingle.

"Footsteps."

"Many."

He shifted slightly and looked down through a crack in the grime.

Men in long crimson coats were moving through the alley. Their shoulders bore a rose wrapped in thorns. The fabric was clean, with no grease or oil smudges on it.

On their necks, written in Mandarini: "Roses Republic."

Without Rosacer prompting, the system translated, a window popping in front of him.

[System Translation: Roses Republic]

Rosacer saw one of them holding a paper.

Even from above, he knew what it was.

His face.

Below, the furnaces inside the workshop suddenly went quiet.

Krodeshas had cut the fire.

A knock came at the door.

Three knocks.

Pause.

Two more.

Gringha looked up from the table.

"They found us," he said flatly.

Another knock.

Harder.

A voice followed.

"By order of the Roses Republic, we are looking for two men. Open the door."

Rosacer’s jaw tightened.

"Someone talked," Gringha whispered.

Another voice outside laughed softly. "We know you are inside."

Inside the workshop, steam hissed as pressure valves locked.

Krodeshas did not look afraid. Instead, she looked annoyed.

Rosacer stepped away from the window.

Without warning, Gringha shouted, "Run!"

"Contact me when you’re no longer being pursued!" he added as he leapt out of the window.

Rosacer’s eyes widened for a brief second, then returned to normal. He flicked his wrist, and in the next moment, he vanished in a burst of pale green flames.

Gringha hit the ground hard, rolled once, then came up on his feet.

"Found one!" someone shouted.

But it was too late.

Gringha moved first.

A Roses Republic hunter lunged with a curved blade, the thorned insignia glinting under furnace light. Gringha stepped inside the swing, caught the man’s wrist, and twisted.

A crackling sound echoed in the grease filled city.

"Black rain is coming again. Hurry!!" someone cried out.

The blade from the hunter’s hand dropped.

Gringha drove his elbow into the man’s throat. The hunter was unable to scream, letting out only a wet choke as he fell.

Everything slowed down.

Just then, gunfire erupted from the alley mouth.

Sparks burst against brick as rounds struck the wall behind him.

"Split! Cut him off!" a captain barked.

Gringha smiled.

He grabbed a fallen oil barrel and kicked it forward. It burst open, grease flooding the stone.

One hunter rushed in without thinking.

Gringha snapped his fingers.

A small vial shattered under his boot.

The grease ignited.

Flames roared up in a violent wave. The rushing hunter slipped, fell, and the fire swallowed him before he could rise. His coat burned fast, petals curling black.

Two more came from above.

One dropped from a rooftop, blade aimed at Gringha’s spine.

Gringha turned at the last second. Steel grazed his shoulder, slicing cloth but not flesh. He caught the attacker mid-fall and slammed him headfirst into the wall.

The brick cracked before the skull did.

The second rooftop hunter fired.

A shot tore through Gringha’s side.

He staggered.

"Got him!" the shooter yelled.

Gringha looked down at the blood spreading across his coat.

Then he laughed.

"You should have aimed higher."

He hurled the broken body he was holding.

The corpse struck the shooter mid-aim. Both crashed off the ledge.

The alley fell quiet for half a second.

Then smoke thickened.

Clattering of boots against the stone pavement filled the alley.

Soon, the boots were approaching, but this time, they were slower now.

They were cautious.

Gringha guessed from the sounds of the footsteps, he muttered to himself, "Three remaining...."

The footsteps circled him, blades low, guns ready.

"Surrender NOW, or DIE," one said.

Gringha wiped blood from his mouth.

"HAHAHHAHAH."

The first charged.

Gringha sidestepped and drove a dagger upward beneath the ribs. The man stiffened, eyes wide, then collapsed.

The second fired point blank.

The shot tore through Gringha’s coat again, grazing flesh.

Gringha did not retreat.

He grabbed the barrel of the rifle and pulled the man forward, headbutting him so hard the man’s nose shattered. Another twist. The rifle snapped.

The last hunter backed away.

"You’re insane," he muttered.

Gringha stepped forward slowly.

"I can say the same about you," he replied. "Let’s end it here."

The hunter turned to run.

Gringha threw his dagger.

It struck clean through the back of the man’s neck.

Gringha’s eyes flickered toward the sky, and he sighed in deep contemplation.

Oil burned low along the alley walls.

Smoke rose into the already polluted sky.

Gringha stood alone among the fallen coats marked with roses.

He pressed a hand against his bleeding side and exhaled slowly.

"Rosacer," he muttered under his breath, "you better not die before I do."

Then he disappeared into the smoke before reinforcements could arrive.

Back in Krodeshas’s house, a figure emerged from the darkness in pale green flames. It stood in front of the woman with silver eyes. She was startled by the sudden appearance.

"You called them here?" Rosacer said. In his hand was a Gewehr, though it was still pointed toward the ground.

Krodeshas’s eyes narrowed. "No."

"The Roses Republic has agents everywhere. I have nothing to do with that organization."

"Sure," Rosacer said, as he slowly raised the gun and pointed it at her.

Krodeshas did not argue.

The moment the barrel aligned with her chest, she moved.

A wrench spun off the table and flew toward Rosacer’s head. He tilted slightly, the metal grazing his temple instead of crushing it. He fired.

The shot tore through her sleeve, blood darkening the fabric.

She did not even look at it.

Her heel slammed down on a side lever.

Steam erupted from the walls. The room drowned in heat and white haze.

Rosacer vanished in pale green flames—

—and reappeared behind her.

But she had expected that.

Her elbow shot backward into his ribs. He felt something crack.

He staggered.

She grabbed a chain hanging from the ceiling and yanked.

The floor plates shifted.

Rosacer’s footing slipped on oil. In that second of imbalance, Krodeshas closed the distance and drove her fist into his jaw. His head snapped to the side. Blood touched the corner of his mouth.

He flicked his wrist again.

Green flames roared between them, forcing her back.

Metal tools began to tremble across the tables. Bolts. Screws. Blades.

They lifted.

Then shot toward him like a swarm.

Rosacer raised his arm. Flames spiraled outward, deflecting some, melting others, but a shard sliced across his shoulder. Another cut his cheek.

He vanished.

Then in a blink, reappeared near the furnace.

Held the Gewehr the very second and fired twice.

One bullet struck the wall. The second clipped her thigh.

She dropped to one knee but pulled another lever as she fell.

The furnace core roared brighter. The ground beneath Rosacer vibrated.

And the entire workshop began to shake.