The Eight Fingers ruled the underworld of the royal capital, but that didn't mean they were completely beyond the reach of the law.

No matter how vast their network or how skilled their subordinates, their base of operations was still within the kingdom. They could avoid the law's gaze, but openly breaking it was another matter entirely.

A prime example was the slavery division managed by Coco Doll. For years, there had been talk of completely abolishing the slave trade—and when it finally became law, his slave markets collapsed.

The network of contacts, funding routes, and influence he had built around them all shrank drastically.

The division didn't vanish entirely, but its power, once rivaling that of any other branch of the Eight Fingers, was reduced to operating at most a brothel or two.

Though scarcity had made the business somewhat profitable, compared to its glory days, it was nothing more than a drop in the bucket.

Damn that princess!

This was all because of her—the Third Princess of the Re-Estize Kingdom, Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself. She had pushed for the anti-slavery law that gutted his division. If he had any means of getting close to her, Coco Doll would have used every resource at his disposal to ruin her.

But even for an executive of the Eight Fingers, touching a royal was impossible—especially a princess, powerless though she might seem. And even if it were possible, the other executives wouldn't allow it. The kingdom's current state suited them just fine; unnecessary turmoil would only cut into profits.

Then, not long ago, that man appeared—and the Eight Fingers were all but destroyed.

"Stay quiet. Don't appear before me again."

Those words came from the head of a great house—Monkyspanner El Dragondream, the strongest man of this era, whose reasons for remaining in the kingdom were a mystery.

He had personally come to deliver a "warning," and with just that, the Eight Fingers were crushed.

No one died, but they were all brought to the brink of it—left with injuries so severe that even after treatment, they would bear lasting aftereffects for the rest of their lives. And yet, even while handling dozens of them at once, that great lord had shown mercy, ensuring no one's life was taken.

Even Zero, who had confronted him head-on, walked away with nothing worse than a more villainous face. If that wasn't mercy, what was? But from the Eight Fingers' perspective, their pride as rulers of the underworld had been shattered in an instant. Facing a single living legend, all they could do was bow their heads and obey.

Among them, some felt awe. Zero, head of the security division, was one such man. Though he had been utterly helpless, beaten as if scolded by an adult, he was captivated by Monkyspanner's overwhelming strength. Seeking to become stronger himself, he abandoned his post and vanished, leaving the remaining "six fingers"—now five—to vie for his position.

But others felt only fear and bitter hatred.

Coco Doll was one of them. He had not seen Monkyspanner's strength firsthand; instead, he had been crushed by the man's presence and oppressive aura.

That alone had been humiliation enough—but the pressure from those around him made it worse. His unnecessary interference during Monkyspanner's visit had earned him the scorn of the other division heads, who also questioned the reason for the man's appearance.

"Things have been noisy lately, Coco Doll. Wasn't that your fault?"

"I hear there was trouble at one of your brothels. Something about a dog the princess was raising being involved… Did that story reach the palace?"

"Tch… The smallest branch should've stayed quiet."

Not long ago, one of his few remaining assets—a slave brothel—had been destroyed. The incident not only wrecked the building but also saw all records stolen, his hired security, the illusionist Circulus, defeated, and himself arrested by the city watch.

He had barely managed to escape using his connections, but the humiliation was unbearable. And the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that the princess's dog had ratted him out to her. That story had likely reached the royal family… and then the great house itself.

Monkyspanner's warning had been simple: don't cause trouble. The only recent trouble in the Eight Fingers that could have reached his ears was that brothel incident.

"Damn it… Damn it… Damn it… I won't let it end like this."

Because of it, he was now under suspicion from his peers, and his influence had been severely diminished.

The slave trade was already dying. If the brothels fell too… there would be nothing left.

But Coco Doll still had one last card to play.

He began linking the recent incident with Monkyspanner's sudden appearance. Yes—the old man. Forget Climb, that brat, and Brain Unglaus; what mattered was that this elder had wiped out the entire brothel faction. Coco Doll was certain he had ties to Dragon's Dream.

He couldn't imagine that air-headed princess, whose mind was nothing but flowers, having any real connection to a great house.

But that old man?

That was different. Rumor had it he had recently entered the capital with someone he served… If he was a member of Dragon's Dream from another country, that would explain everything.

And if that was the case, what had motivated him to act?

When Coco Doll thought about it, a woman's face came to mind—Tuare, was it? A woman he had once considered worthless and ready to discard.

She had been sold off as a noble's concubine, only to be abandoned shortly after and end up as a brothel slave. That woman had to be the cause.

He didn't know why, but he was certain this mess had started because of her. Which meant she could be an important bargaining chip against Dragon's Dream.

If I can just secure her, I'll have a move to play!

He would capture the woman and use her as a hostage. He already knew where the old man lived. All he had to do was wait for him to be away, snatch her, and then negotiate with Dragon's Dream.

That man had spared the lives of even his enemies—surely he would pay a steep price to get her back unharmed.

As for consequences? Coco Doll didn't have the luxury to think about them. His power was crumbling, and he was on the verge of ruin. He couldn't let it end like this. No—he wouldn't let it end like this. He still had more to do.

It's not over yet. I can still turn this around. I can still win.

Greed gleamed in Coco Doll's eyes. He still believed he had a chance. And so, without hesitation, he reached for something that should never be touched—never imagining what would await him afterward.

...

The Great Tomb of Nazarick was a guild for heteromorphic races.

Back in the days of the DMMO-RPG Yggdrasil, even before Ainz Ooal Gown existed, when they were still the clan Nine's Own Goal, Nazarick had been created with the goal of forming a guild for persecuted heteromorphs.

Over time, that purpose evolved: if the world saw heteromorphs as monsters, then they would embrace the role fully and play the part of villains who truly despised other races.

As a result, the alignment of Ainz Ooal Gown—and thus the Great Tomb of Nazarick—skewed heavily toward evil (negative karma), and that nature had been passed down to the NPCs they created.

In other words, among Nazarick's denizens, those who could deal with humans on friendly terms were extremely rare.

The few who could were generally only mildly prejudiced against humans because they had been influenced by their creators or by the Guild Master, Momonga.

Of those rare few, only two could be considered truly capable of interacting with humans amicably—and among them, there was only one person Ainz trusted enough to send outside alone to handle delicate matters:

Sebas Tian, the House Steward of Nazarick, Administrator of the 9th Floor, head of the maids and manservants, and the Iron Butler.

His creator, Touch Me, had possessed a deeply just sense of morality, and so Sebas had inherited an unusually benevolent nature toward humans—an anomaly in the overwhelmingly evil Nazarick.

Recently, his rescue of the girl named Tuare had been entirely in line with that nature. She had asked for his help, and without even seeking Ainz's permission, he had spent Nazarick's resources to save her. He had even hesitated—if only for the briefest moment—when ordered to kill her.

But that was only because it aligned with his sense of justice.

To Sebas, protecting and defending the weak was justice. But evil had to be punished. Unforgivable sins had to be judged. And if the "evil" before him happened to be far weaker than himself, he would still strike them down without hesitation.

That was why, in the current situation, he could feel only rage.

"She's been kidnapped…?"

The weak person he had sworn to protect had been taken—by an evil that could never be forgiven.

They had touched his reverse scale. But he could not act recklessly. He had already moved without permission once before, and Ainz had personally questioned him for it.

The report had already been made. Ainz, furious that Tuare—whom he had protected in his own name—had been abducted, ordered her safe recovery and even mobilized a Guardian. But Sebas found it difficult to wait.

Tuare was fragile. She had recovered somewhat, but her body, abused and overworked for so long, remained frail. If she were to suffer serious injury or—worse—die, her weakened body would not survive the strain of a resurrection spell.

"Please… be safe…" Grit.

The sound of his teeth grinding in anger filled the air.

The enemy intended to use her as a hostage, but there was no guarantee she would remain unharmed.

They were evil—capable of any vile act.

That was why he had to save her—quickly, before it was too late. As he awaited his master's command to move, Sebas's eyes burned with searing fury.

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