Rebirth of the Disgraced Noble-Chapter 35: A God Gets Scammed By A Mortal
Aden didn’t wake up to the morning sun or the scent of breakfast. He woke up to the sound of metal scraping against stone and the heavy, humid scent of unwashed bodies.
"Look at the hair on this one," a nasally voice whispered. "Pure silver. The high-end brothels in the Inner Circle would pay a fortune just for his scalp."
"Forget the kid, look at the mask on the table," a deeper voice grunted. "Those black veins... that’s no common Dwernia. That’s some high-tier artifact."
"His clothes would go for a good price too," A raspy voice sounded next.
Aden’s eyes didn’t snap open, his breathing was calm as ever and his arms idly scratched his side to send a signal that he’d awoken.
The intruders were too engrossed in his mask that they missed such an obvious action.
The heavy footsteps moved closer to the table. A hand reached out for the Obsidian-Veined Hannya mask.
"Don’t touch that," Aden said, his voice a dry, rasping ghost of its former self.
The scavengers jumped, their rusted shivs and clubs coming up in a frantic, amateurish stance. They were bottom-feeders, Stage 0 or 1 of Faint Resonance realm at best, clothed in rags and desperation.
"He’s awake! Kill him before he pulses!"
One of the men lunged with a rusted pipe.
Aden didn’t use a skill. He didn’t have the stamina to spare. He simply rolled off the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold stone, and grabbed the Hannya mask in one fluid motion.
Holding it high above his head, he cast them a glance with neutral eyes.
’They’re just kids...’
Despite their aged voices and poorly trimmed hairs, Aden predicted that none of them should be more than eighteen years of age.
’The same age as when I got reincarnated,’ Aden recalled with a nostalgic look in his eyes.
Even though it had only been a year since then, it felt longer to Aden, especially since the day and night cycle in this world was considerably different from that of Earth’s.
His eyes sparked with emotion as he looked at the stiffened trio.
Aden nearly collapsed into the chair but managed to hide his fatigue from the intruders...
If they could still even be called that.
With a snap of his fingers, their figures jolted and cold sweat drenched their rags in scary amounts.
Even Aden was surprised by the development. He had expected the kids to panic and freeze up in fear but the reaction they displayed was far too intense to be dismissed as a minor panic response.
Aden’s eyes flicked subtly between the masks and the kids.
He leaned forward in his seat, and that simple action made them huddle into a corner, faces pale and lips quivering.
Aden watched the mask more intently this time, a creepy suspicion forming in his mind.
"Can you guys tell me what happened? I promise not to hurt you."
Aden tried to form a smile, but the minor fatigue he was experiencing made it look more unhinged than calming.
"W—we’re sorry!" They said at the same time.
Aden smiled wryly and raised his hands in surrender. "I understand, okay? I’m not angry."
The kids looked at each other, fear still in their eyes but they pulled away from the right corner with a small step.
Aden sighed. He looked like he’d aged ten years in a minute.
"Anyone who tells me why you all froze up gets a special reward from me."
Immediately those words left Aden’s lips, they all appeared before him, the initial fear they had replaced by a strong, almost tangible greed.
The transition was jarring. One second they were shivering like cornered rats and in the next, they were practically vibrating with a desperate, hungry hope. It reminded Aden of the hustle culture back on Earth, just stripped of its manners and replaced with raw survival.
"You, the skinny one," Aden pointed to the nasally-voiced boy who had wanted to scalp him. "Speak. What did you see when I stood up?"
The boy gulped, his eyes darting to the Hannya mask on the table. "It wasn’t just you, m-mister. When you touched that face... the air went heavy. Like we were underwater. And the mask... the black lines on it..."
"They weren’t lines," the deeper-voiced one interrupted, his greed overcoming his stutter. "They were eyes. Tiny, black eyes opening all over the wood. I saw my own funeral, Lord! I saw my mother crying over an empty grave!"
Aden’s hand twitched toward the mask. ’Eyes? Hallucination?’
____
[PASSIVE ANALYSIS]
Ability Detected: [Mental Dissonance - Level 1 (Passive)]
Source: Obsidian-Veined Hannya (Stabilizing)
Effect: Minor psychic pressure on low-frequency targets. Causes Fear-Paralysis or
Mortal Hallucinations.
___
’Well, this is an unexpected development.’
He nearly broke into a smile, but he managed to maintain his neutral composure.
"I see," Aden said, his voice regaining some of its strength. He reached into his pocket, and his heart sank as he was cruelly reminded of his financial state.
’We’re practically the same,’ Aden thought as he avoided eye contact with a wry smile. ’I’m just better dressed.’
Breaking an awkward laugh, he remembered the meal he had stole— borrowed earlier.
He reached into his sack and pulled out the remaining half of the meatball-like snacks which were now cold and a bit squashed, but to these kids, it might as well have been gold.
"Here," Aden tossed the bag to the center of the floor.
They descended on the food like a pack of wolves. It was a pathetic, messy sight.
"Now," Aden said, leaning back into the shadows as the pressure of the mask continued to pulse in the background.
"Since you three seem to know the sewers so well, you’re going to do more than scavenge for me. You’re going to be my ’Eyes’ on the surface."
The boys looked up, their mouths full of grease and spice.
’Should I tell them to monitor the House of Redwyn that are in these parts?’ Aden’s finger tapped the desk rhythmically. ’No, they’ll get caught and possibly killed. I could even be found out if one of them squeals.’
His eyes rested on them. ’Loyalty isn’t exactly a word with these kids.’
Aden clicked his fingers as a forgotten piece of information resurfaced.
"How is the Grey–Cough in these parts?" Aden asked.
Their expressions turned solemn.
"It’s getting worse. My friend here," the deeper voiced one swung his arms over the skinny one. "Watched someone turn to dust just yesterday!"
Aden frowned at his words. "There was no cure made known to the general public?"
The boys exchanged glances before shaking their head vehemently. "No one said a word about any cure. I highly doubt there is one at all..."
They looked dejected as they remembered their loved ones who lost their lives to the pandemic.
Aden felt his chest tighten. Although he played no role in the casualties or the civil unrest that followed, his Master was half responsible for it—and by extension, so was he.
So he would naturally do as much as he possibly could to give a fraction of relief while keeping under the radar.
"I want you to go to Croakers Den and find a blonde boy and a bald aged man—"
"I know who the boss is talking about," the one with a raspy voice spoke. "It’s that bartender and his kid, no?"
The rest also nodded in realization, but Aden was left in confusion.
"I didn’t know those two were related," Aden spoke, his expression thoughtful.
The boys looked at him like they were meeting him for the first time.
"Everyone in this damned town knows who the Bodywn’s are," the deep voiced one started. "They’re a bunch of conniving, opportunistic scumbags whom this town could do without."
Aden was truly shocked at this point. "But they didn’t seem all that bad to me. Maybe you’re mistaking them for someone else?"
"That’s because my Lord is extremely strong! Those piles of mud are weak to the strong and strong to the weak!"
He could sense the agitation in their voices as they gestured to him the most heinous deeds the Bodywn’s were responsible for. Each one more damaging than the last.
"And there was a time last year when his daddy snuck in rogue warriors for ten pieces of silver! Those warriors then went on to cause havoc in our town, leading to the deaths of loads of people!"
The lantern Aden hung in the corner added an extra layer of red to their faces, making them look rather comic.
Aden reclined on the chair with his hands covering his forehead. A small sense of unease welled within him as he digested the pieces of information from the sewer kids.
’To think I was fooled. Then again, I was never a good judge of character,’ Aden sighed in resignation and scribbled something on a piece of wood with his finger.
"I’ve heard all that you’ve said, but at the moment, I still need them."
The boys nodded obediently.
Aden handed the piece of wood to the boy in the middle.
"Give this to the bartender and repeat this shortly after: ’Thus is the decree of the silver god.’ "
Low ’oo’ sounds left their lips at his words. Aden raised his hand to stop any further questions and sent them on their way with a promise of a reward if they accomplished their mission.
Listening to the receding sloshing sounds, he sat back on his desk with an unreadable expression. He leaned back and muttered:
"Can I really trust anybody?"
