Rain hammered on the roof of the wooden shanty. The thin planks did little to muffle the sound, and the drumming easily penetrated the interior.

A man cursed the miserable weather in frustration, but his hands never stopped moving. With a flick and a pass, he swapped the card in front of him. He was fast, truly fast, but his technique was flawed—the corner of a card peeked from his hand as he made the switch.

If he hadn’t already had two fingers chopped off, his work wouldn’t be this sloppy.

A small boy stood under the eaves outside the door, staring longingly inside. His mouth was slightly agape and his throat bobbed, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he remained silent.

The man noticed him and, slipping off a worn-out shoe that exposed his toes, threw it at the boy. "What are you looking at? Scram! You want another beating tonight if you don’t bring back any food?"

The boy ran back into the muddy street, braving the rain.

Just then, the door to the inner room opened. Three men, who could just barely be considered fully clothed, walked out wiping sweat from their brows. Reaching the doorway, they saw the man still practicing his card trick, sneered, and tossed a few Copper Coins on the floor.

The man scrambled to his knees, carefully picking them up.

The leader of the group said mockingly, "Still practicing? Keep it up and you’ll lose the rest of your fingers."

At his words, the other two men burst into the kind of forced, perfunctory laughter one reserves for a superior’s unfunny joke. They held an umbrella over the leader, and the three of them disappeared into the rain.

The man remained kneeling on the ground. His hand, missing two fingers, couldn’t hold the few coins, so he had to pick them up one by one, stuff one into his pocket, then laboriously pick up the next.

In a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, he repeated, "Sooner or later, I’ll turn the tables... Sooner or later... I’ll win it all back from you..."

Suddenly, the room, already dim from the overcast sky, seemed to grow even darker.

The man looked toward the doorway. A Beastman was blocking the light. He was so powerfully built that he had to turn sideways to enter.

"Y-you are?" The man saw the Beastman wasn’t speaking and guessed he might have been drawn here by his reputation. He quickly called into the house, "Come out and greet our guest."

A woman with disheveled hair emerged, her eyes vacant and numb. Hunched over, she was about to bow when she realized the visitor was a Beastman. She frantically waved her hands. "No Beastmen, no..."

SLAP!

The man struck the woman across the face. "What do you mean, no!"

The Beastman didn’t respond. Instead, he took a portrait from his waist pouch and began to compare it to them.

Unsure of the newcomer’s intentions, the man asked tentatively, "Oh, so you were sent here to buy a child. See? I’ve got a good eye for these things. I have another girl, I guarantee she’s just as pretty as the last one."

The Beastman put the portrait away.

The man continued, "Not a girl, I see. You’re running an errand for the lords of the Church. That’s fine too. I have a boy as well."

Hearing this, the woman suddenly flew into a frenzy. "You can’t touch him! He’s a sacrifice chosen by Lord Mammon! He must be offered to Lord Mammon!"

The Beastman paid no mind to their squabbling. After returning the portrait to his pouch, he drew the small Hunting knife that every Beastman carried at their belt.

It was, however, "small" by Beastman standards. The blade was thirty centimeters long and glinted with a cold light.

Realizing the newcomer had ill intentions, the man immediately snatched a pair of scissors from the table. Wanting to strike first, he gripped them with both hands and lunged, aiming for the Beastman’s heart.

A flash of steel was all he saw. The man no longer had to worry about losing his remaining fingers.

Like a skilled butcher carving up a pig, the movement—from the initial cut to the follow-through—was fluid. In less than two seconds, a pair of "pig’s trotters" were cleanly severed.

Before he could even register the pain, the Beastman’s large hand clamped around his neck and lifted him off the ground.

After chanting a string of guttural Beastman words, the struggling man quickly fell still. His eyes rolled back in his head and foam frothed at his lips, making it impossible to tell if he was dead or alive.

He was tossed aside like a piece of trash.

The Beastman turned to the crazed woman. "Beastmen do not strike down enemies who cannot fight back. You can choose to surrender, or you can seek a final honor."

A moment later, the wooden shanty burst into flames. The rain could not extinguish the dancing fire.

This was the power of Magic.

"May nature cleanse the wicked thoughts of the guilty," the Beastman Priest intoned in a brief prayer.

"Priest, War Axe has found the children."

...

"You didn’t find them all!" In Zog’s Underground Dragon Nest, Mira’s small body was tense. She fought to stay on her feet, repeating over and over, "You didn’t find them all! My little brother is still out there! You didn’t find them all, my little brother..."

Zog looked at War Axe, who shook his head.

He left the task of comforting the child to Furin. He had a more pressing objective now.

"Have you identified the person in the purple robe?" Zog asked the Priest.

"He didn’t show his face. The robe is a uniform for some organization. They must have quite a few members, but they only wear them during their activities. To find them, we’ll probably have to keep an eye on them until they make a move."

Stalking wasn’t difficult for Beastmen. They were all skilled Hunters, adept at tracking prey.

The problem was, Zog was short on manpower.

Twin Tower City was, after all, a predominantly Human city-state. Although other races lived there, their numbers were relatively small. To avoid drawing too much attention, the forces he had brought to Twin Tower City—be they Beastmen, Goblins, or Zor—were all elite squads. Their total numbers were too low to conduct city-wide surveillance.

As for the Undead and Fishmen, they couldn’t appear in the city at all. Was he supposed to plant cameras all over the streets?

Wait, maybe he actually could.

Zog suddenly remembered that Yuno had recently been working with the Goblins, researching how to make the Ghost Cameras more versatile, portable, and capable of real-time monitoring. He wondered how much progress they had made.

’But why the Goblins?’ Zog thought. ’How did a highly educated individual like Yuno, who came from a proper research institute, end up teaming up with Goblins?’

"Bring Yuno here."

Soon, Yuno and Ren 82 arrived before Zog, accompanied by several Ghost Cameras.

Ren 82 looked incredibly excited, while Yuno, on the other hand, looked utterly drained, as if he’d been put through the wringer.

’Did the Goblins do something to him?’

"Er, Yuno, how’s the camera improvement project coming along?"

"It’s going well, it’s going well. But the credit mainly belongs to Mr. Ren 82. He proposed the modifications and completed the more difficult parts. I just provided some minor assistance."

"If I wanted to achieve city-wide camera surveillance right now, could it be done?"

"Theoretically, yes."

Zog looked at the Ghost Cameras. They didn’t seem any different from before.

But then Ren 82 began to vigorously tear one of the cameras apart. He broke it into many pieces and started to introduce each one.

"This, head camera. Added, levitation spell. Can, film from sky."

’Got it. A drone.’

"This, hand camera. Can climb on walls, ceilings."

"This, lung camera. Underwater, controls depth with breath..."

"This, small intestine camera. Can enter, narrow spaces..."

"Alright, alright, that’s enough." Zog was starting to feel a bit nauseous just looking at them. ’The fact that Yuno can still stand here is a testament to his mental fortitude.’

"In short, you can place these things all over the city, right?"

"Yes. Add invisibility spell."

’I hope that invisibility spell doesn’t fail,’ Zog thought. He wasn’t worried about the cameras malfunctioning, but he was worried that if someone saw one of these things, they might have a heart attack and drop dead on the spot.

「Three days later. Twin Tower City Temporary Monitoring Room.」

The Zor on duty activated the communication Rune. "Target in purple robe spotted. I repeat, target spotted!"