The hideout descended into a frenzy when they heard Explorer Ren was visiting them.

They, the young inhabitants of this slum, had been an ardent fan of Allen. The fact that the leader of their bands revere him further aggravates their idolism toward him. Either way, they could finally meet their idol in the flesh! Though, some were also perplexed on how to proceed.

"Hey, Kathy. I heard true fans go for a handshake, right? The 'Big Bro's Ballad' that Su got said a man's handshake means a punch to the face. But, there's no way we can just smash a punch in our meeting, do we?"

"Hmm... Now that you bring it out, your doubts are correct. It would be awkward to do that, the timing is off. ...Ah, I got it. We will just follow however Bro Ren decided to follow us."

"Mhm, you sure are making it sound like an easy snag, but we're talking about him. The reputation of Mad Hound ain't unheard by me; I heard he turned into a magic brawling machine when his switch is flipped on. That said, we're the same age, surely you should be able to hold him back if the situation turned worse."

But the comforting words of the young executive met with a shake of head. Their leader gave a wry smile, his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, well... maybe that might be so. But whose fist is bigger in the fight isn't that much of a big deal. Standing tall without bowing to power or the strong, holding your ground. Not whining when adults call you a thug or lowlife behind your back. Shielding the ones getting stepped on and carving a path forward… Now that's what I considered cool. Even if he's weaker than me, my respect would never change. But hey, I am not going to kick off a fight though."

Had Allen heard them, he would have undoubtedly corrected them, for he never had a single ounce of thought to protect them. But the information had originated from Benze and other kids around, and the narrative simply followed from their perspective, making Allen almost their icon.

"......I heard the rumours how he had been silenced in the underworld when any news about him ceased, after his falling out with local gangs... Ain't you glad he's alive, Kathy?"

When the tip of conversation turned to him, the Rebel could only offer an embarrassed chuckle. Rebel wasn't exactly handsome, but oddly enough, that smile certainly enchanted many.

◆◆◆

"I'm here’s Rebel. And I had been longing to meet you. I hope to be friends with you."

This was the first thing the «Rebel» said, a grin plastered to that face. I felt a strange sort of familiarity with him. 

Naturally, I assumed a handshake would follow that flow, but he kept just enough distance to make it awkward to offer my hand. The timing never quite lined up.

He wasn’t emitting any hostility, but his gaze and spacing were surprisingly guarded, enough to keep his entourage on edge with a faint, underlying tension. 

It didn't seem like I should take the 'I hope to be friends' in a literal meaning. 

“So, this red stuff here is the pill we’ve been slipping to broke kids in the slums. The effects are so-so, but it’s dirt cheap and easy to whip up. If we tried pushing it through the usual recipes and channels, the adults… well, they’d start bitching. You get me, right?”

“Wow, that’s amazing!”

After we sat down at a shabby table set, this so-called 'bad boy' started proudly boasting about all the misdeeds he’d pulled off, like they were tales of valor.

I had no idea what the pill that he was so gleefully speaking about meant, or the effect was, but it all hinted to be something illegal. He seemed to be selling to the poor kids, and amassing money. 

I didn't dig further. I mean, I was merely a tourist, someone bound to return back to the kingdom at the end. It would be better to limit my contact with them, and take my exit ASAP. 

Just like I had mastered it during my days as the salaryman, I kept the perfect polite smile of a customer support hanging on my lips, and adlib my way in the conversation, something I had picked from trending 'The Secret Saying a Popular Women Use' back then.

"......O-oh, and if a kid’s really broke, sometimes I front it on credit. Not giving it away for free, of course. I give them jobs and make sure they pay me back. It's for the, well, you-know-what-reason, eh?”

So it seems this guy lures vulnerable kids into debt with drugs, then puts them to work like expendable limbs.

It had nothing to do with me, but I certainly didn't like the vibe of this conversation.

"...Hmm, that's indeed so."

I decided to stop thinking, and just stuck to my usual polite responses. I think... i would just tip Arichi-san to check on overall situation, 

The young boy, calling himself Rebel, took my polite responses as a form of encouragement, and broadened his smile. With an enraptured appearance, he continued.

"......A-and, while it's barely a pace, we also have been trying to educate the kids. After all, education is something foreign to the kids of the lowest strata. A person should be well versed in both penmanship, and swordsmanship. In my opinion, what's most important is teaching them about 'ideaology.' I believe you know why, right? It's you after all!"

There was a slight frown on his face as he spoke, which raised eyebrows out of curiosity, but I guess he was just the type to become awkward at honest praise.

"Oh, you've got it covered huh."

I noticed the boy was gradually getting into the moment, and tossed another line from the verbal playbook.

But, I must say, it's refreshing seeing this kind of villainy. He shouldn't be older than me, but he had already made the kids half of their slaves with medicine and money, while also brainwashing them. 

He sure seemed to have nice insight to target 'education' in the slum at least. The details aside, of course. This gave me a new perspective about scoundrels; maybe that's how they kicked off their arc of villain, on instinct?

Either way, I might have shot myself on foot. The boy seemed to be quite excited at my adlibs, and it didn't seem like I would be able to get free anytime soon. But I was a total stranger, so I really didn't see why he must tell me all of that. Had he another plan, maybe?

...It's like he was trying to keep me for something. 

The doubt had just researched in my mind when the door of the building suddenly opened with a bang, and two young boys entered. 

"Hey, I have a breaking news! There are rumours going around at the Exploration Association that the supposedly dead Mad Hound is actually alive! And he is back with even bigger banger; he is now A-rank. I'm dead sure ab—ah, we have guest? I apologise."

The boy, who had opened the door, seemed to have shouted some strings of words, but I was too preoccupied by the appearance of the second, but an atypical, boy behind him to register any of the detail.

The boy standing in the back had a body swollen like a boneless ham, his engorged muscles wrapped tightly with wire that bit into the flesh and seeped blood.

He was clearly afflicted with a congenital disease of some kind, and his strained, wheezing breaths echoed with pain. And yet, despite that, an unmistakable aura of a "true warrior" radiated from him.

◆◆◆

"…What was that about the Mad Hound?"

The Rebel prompted the newcomer boy to continue, while his gaze locked with the visitor. The boy showed an interested over who the visitor was and continued.

"R-right. It's fresh information, so no one knows if it's true for now. Apparently, Mad Hound had been at Dragreid, a southern city in the Yuglia, when a legendary monster—Steinberg appeared at the scene. In the aftermath, Mad Hound was buried alive with the monster in his attempt to protect his friends. But shockingly, he prevailed against the monster, and defeated it alone, making it back alive. He might be stronger than the rumours!"

The Rebel raised an eyebrow and nodded. 

"Heh, that's... indeed breaking news. No wonder word spreads fast. But that begs a question; why would someone, who just pulled off a feat like that, be wasting time sightseeing in a slum in some foreign empire before even cleaning up the aftermath?"

Though Rebel kid's lips curled into a faint smile, his eyes remained solemn, even tinged with sorrow, as he asked that question. But the person being asked didn't reply back. His gaze was fixed firmly on the 'freaky boy' who had just entered the hideout. 

"So, who the hell are you?"

But when the boy still gave no reply, the Rebel stood up and slammed a fist full of fury over the table, against the boy square in the face.

Fresh blood splashed around, and the boy was sent flying along with the couch he’d been sitting on.

"Don’t ignore me… Get up. …Get the hell up! If you're really… if you're really the real Mad Hound!"

The Rebel boy's voice was laced with more sorrow than anger; he had 'realised' it. Even if it was a festival over the Rising Dragon Tournament, Explorer Ren shouldn't be stepping inside the Empire with how many enemies he had made. 

In that case, the boy must be a spy of some other nation who had caught a whiff of his own, and perhaps even the freak boy's true identity. But it didn't matter; he was incensed at how the same guy managed to make a joke out of him, and threw a punch driven by rage. 

He shouldn't be able to get up after taking that punch. Rebel was assured of that, as he looked down at the miserable spy with the same sorrowful gaze. But the subsequent happening was like he was taken to a wild ride, totally unexpected.

The boy—the same boy who had acted like a polite merchant with empty words, with no shrewdness to see around—stood up like a punch was nothing, spitting out blood, and cracking his neck. 

The next moment, his instinct warned him he wasn’t facing an ordinary boy, but a mindless beast… and just like the rumours he had heard, the beast’s face had gone completely white, devoid of blood—he was into his 'true form.’

“…The hell was that for… huh?”