Chapter 20: Sibling Rivalry
Alper’s POV
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I followed Dix as the bustling cityscape slowly gave way to darker, gloomier surroundings. The vibrant streets turned to narrow alleys, and the smell of damp wood and rot began to fill the air. It didn’t take long for me to realize we’d entered the slums of the kingdom.
Along the way, Dix had tried to pry into my story. I’d kept it vague, telling him only that I was being hunted and had run all the way here. That seemed to satisfy his curiosity—at least for now.
“I must say, nya,” Dix said, his tail swishing lazily as he walked ahead. “I still can’t believe what you did back there.”
I shrugged, keeping my tone nonchalant. “Well, I passed the test, didn’t I? Isn’t that what matters?”
He chuckled, the sound bouncing off the crumbling walls around us. “Nyahaha! You’re right. But sometimes, passing isn’t everything, nya. Keep that in mind.”
The conversation trailed off, and we walked in silence until we arrived at what looked like an abandoned house. The place was in ruins—shattered windows, chunks of the walls missing, the entire structure sagging like it was ready to collapse.
“In here, nya,” Dix said, pulling out a keyring loaded with dozens of mismatched keys. He knelt to unlock a trapdoor hidden beneath the debris.
I raised an eyebrow. Is that… their entire security?
“Hey, Dix?” I called, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Nya? What’s up?” He glanced back at me, still fiddling with the keys.
“Is this it for security?” I asked, nodding toward the trapdoor.
He stopped and turned to face me, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean, nya?”
“I mean,” I said, gesturing to the trapdoor, “couldn’t someone just metalweave and make a hole to bypass the door entirely?”
Dix tilted his head like a confused kitten. “Nyo? They can’t?”
The question hung in the air for a moment before realization dawned on his face. He smirked as he straightened up, stepping back from the trapdoor.
“Nya~,” he said with an exaggerated wave of his hand toward the locked door. “Try it, then.”
I glanced at Dix, then back at the trapdoor, shrugging nonchalantly. “Alright, sure. Let’s see.”
Bending down, I placed my hands on the wooden surface of the door. Metalweaving wasn’t my strongest suit—Nove had taught me the basics, but with my pitiful stat level in it, even simple tasks could be a challenge. Still, I had to try.
The plan was straightforward: use base arts techniques to carve out a chunk of the wood. It started with visualizing my NEP seeping from my fingers. The sensation came easily, and I saw the faint blue fog emanating from my nails.
This fog—pure NEP—was usually invisible to most people. Even now, I doubted Dix could see it. With enough perception, though, people could sense the residual NEP in the air. I hadn’t always been able to see it myself; Nove had blocked it from my vision during alchemy training, claiming it would distract me. Only recently had she lifted that block when I started practicing metalweaving in earnest.
I focused on masking the part of the wood I wanted to expand outward, letting the fog spread. Once the area was ready, I gave it a firm mental tug.
Nothing.
My eyes narrowed. I’d tried this technique on regular wood before, and it had worked fine. Another pull, harder this time—still nothing. Each attempt drained my NEP, and at this point, I was just burning energy for no result.
Frustrated, I glanced over my shoulder at Dix. He stood there, arms crossed, wearing the most obnoxiously smug expression I’d ever seen. His tail swished lazily, as if to punctuate his superiority.
Before I could voice my confusion, Nove’s calm, analytical voice cut through my thoughts.
“Alper,” she began, “any item made through metalweaving has a specialized inscription embedded in it. Think of it like a unique pattern or code that must be cracked to manipulate the object. Naturally occurring materials all share the same pattern, so once you know it, you can metalweave them easily. However…” She paused, letting the weight of her explanation sink in. “The complexity of the inscription depends on the skill of the person who created the item. Up until now, I’ve been automatically bypassing these inscriptions for you.”
Is that how it works?
“Nyahaha! Looks like you figured it out, nya,” Dix said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “The encryption on that door is a solid four-star tier, nya. Not even an experienced metalweaver could crack it.”
Almost as if she took it as a personal challenge, Nove’s voice echoed confidently in my mind. “It would take me approximately two hours to break the encryption and metalweave through that trapdoor.”
Huh. I see.
Now that I thought about it, the realization felt obvious. I’d been so focused on the mechanics of metalweaving that I hadn’t considered why more people didn’t just create holes in walls to steal whatever they wanted. The answer was clear now: it was all because of the inscriptions.
There’s still so much I don’t know.
Dix led me down into the cellar, where a long tunnel stretched ahead of us. The dimly lit passage branched off into smaller rooms along the way. Every so often, I saw people darting into those rooms, shutting the doors quickly behind them. Dix greeted them casually, but I couldn’t help noticing something unusual.
First, most of the people here were small—child-sized, in fact. Second, every single one of them was a demi-human. Some wore caps to hide their ears, but the tails swishing behind them gave it away instantly.
“Dix…” I called, my voice low as my eyes narrowed.
“Looks like you figured it out, nya,” he said without breaking stride, his tone devoid of its usual smugness.
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“So…” I began, trying to piece together my thoughts.
“Nyes,” Dix interrupted, his ears twitching slightly. “The initiation test is just a formality, nya. The real requirement to join the Midnight Prowlers is…” He paused, scratching the back of his head. “Well, being abandoned, nya. Sadly, that usually means kids and demi-humans.”
I clenched my fists. I knew it.
So that’s why he was so determined to recruit me. Not because of my potential or my skills—at least, not entirely—but because I fit the profile. Someone without a place to belong.
Dix finally turned to face me, his golden eyes uncharacteristically serious. “Nya—I didn’t want to tell you at first. You might’ve taken it the wrong way, nya. We’re not a charity. We do what we have to, but…” He hesitated, his tail drooping slightly. “We try our best to help everyone.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. This wasn’t just a group of thieves or spies. It was something more—a refuge for the discarded and overlooked.
I didn’t know why, but my chest suddenly felt lighter. That strange anger I’d been carrying since Dix tried to recruit me had finally started to fade. Maybe it had been fear—fear of being dragged into something too similar to the underworld I’d left behind. But now, it seemed like this wasn’t the same.
“But don’t get me wrong,” Dix said as he turned around and started walking forward. “If you want to eat, nya, you’ll still have to work. But other than that, we’re a family.”
“Fine by me.” I shrugged. “Nothing is free, after all.”
Dix nodded in approval, and we continued walking.
A little while later, he led me into what looked like an office. Inside, a girl was seated behind a cluttered desk. She bore a striking resemblance to Dix—tanned skin, jet-black hair, gold irises, and even the same blue beret perched on her head. Her attention was fixed on a stack of documents as she worked diligently.
“So, you brought another one?” she said without looking up, her tone even and businesslike. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I? We don’t—” She paused mid-sentence, glancing at me briefly, seeing my hideous state and shaking her head. “Never mind,” she muttered, her focus returning to the papers in front of her.
“Nya! Nice to see you too, little sister!” Dix said cheerfully, his tone playful as ever. He turned to me with a grin. “Adam, meet Dara. My little sister, nya. She’s also what you might call our assistant manager.”
“We’re not registered,” Dara interjected flatly, her pen scratching against the paper. “So there are no official positions in our… small firm.”
“Nya, don’t be so cold, Dara,” Dix protested, waving a hand dismissively. “The only reason we’re not legal is because—”
“Because we break into houses and restricted areas to obtain and sell information,” Dara interrupted, still writing, her eyes never leaving her work.
“Well, nya,” Dix stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “The way you said it makes it sound bad, but really, we don’t sell anything dangerous, nya! We pass that kind of information to the authorities and earn a bit of merit at the same time. So don’t worry, Adam!”
I didn’t respond immediately, offering only a silent nod. Despite his cheerful attempts to reassure me, Dix seemed to sense that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of being the "bad guy."
Dara, on the other hand, intrigued me. Unlike her brother, she didn’t add those cat-like nya sounds to her sentences. Her demeanor was cool, efficient, and no-nonsense, a sharp contrast to Dix’s playful, over-the-top personality.
Dara let out a long-suffering groan, finally looking up from her papers. “What do you want, oh dear brother of mine?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “If you want him to join us, remember our deal: he has to go through the initiation test.”
“Nyahaha!” Dix crossed his arms, a smug grin plastered across his face. “I already did!”
Dara’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. “You actually remembered this time? That’s… commendable.”
Dix struck a triumphant pose, flashing a peace sign. “Nyot only that! I made him do the Bug Catching Initiation Test!”
The moment those words left his mouth, Dara’s expression darkened. Without hesitation, she picked up a book from her desk, stood up, and hurled it at him. It smacked him squarely in the forehead with a satisfying thwack.
“NY-OUCH!” Dix yelped, stumbling back and clutching his head.
“How many times have I told you to stop using that test?!” Dara snapped, her patience clearly at its limit.
“Ny-ow!” Dix whined, still rubbing the red bump forming on his forehead. “But it’s such a pain to set up the other tests! Bug Catching only takes a minute, nya!”
Dara’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she reached for another book. “Do you ever think about how many times our people have been interrogated because they got caught sneaking around on a main street?!”
“Nya! But they were all fine in the end, weren’t they?!” Dix protested, waving his arms defensively.
Dara rose to her full height, looking every bit the monarch preparing to dispense judgment. She grabbed another book, holding it aloft like a scepter of doom. Before things could escalate further, I quickly raised my hands, stepping in to stop the sibling spat.
“Hold on!” I said, hoping to defuse the situation. Dara’s fiery gaze shifted to me, her anger softening slightly as she sighed.
“Just give me a minute,” she said, her tone calmer now but still sharp. “Let me set him straight first.”
“Okay, fine!” Dix grumbled, holding his hands up in surrender. The bump on his forehead was now a vivid shade of red. “I swear I won’t use that test anymore!”
“You promise?!” Dara demanded, book still poised to strike.
“Nya! I promise!” Dix said quickly, making a cross motion over his chest for emphasis.
Dara narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Thank you,” she muttered, tossing the book aside and slumping back into her chair. She rubbed her temples, clearly exhausted by the ordeal.
Meanwhile, Dix grinned sheepishly, the bump on his forehead glowing like a badge of dishonor.
“…Although, nya,” Dix muttered, shrinking into the corner as Dara’s glare sharpened like a drawn blade.
“…Although what?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.
“Well…” Dix chuckled nervously, waving his hands. “I’ll tell you about it later, nya. It’s not important.”
I knew exactly what he was trying to avoid: admitting that I’d screamed “Batman is here!” as a distraction during the test, which had caused a flood of security officers to swarm the streets. Dara wasn’t stupid—she probably already suspected something was up. If Dix had any sense of self-preservation, he’d keep that detail to himself. Forever.
Dara stared daggers at him, her eyes practically daring him to slip up. For a moment, the room felt like it might explode. Then she shifted her gaze to me, her expression cooling slightly. “Anyways,” she said, her tone crisp, “how was the test?”
Dix perked up, his usual mischievous grin returning. “He passed, nya!” he announced, tail swishing behind him.
Dara raised an eyebrow in confusion. “He passed?”
“And!” Dix continued, unable to help himself, “he did it in seven minutes and forty-eight seconds. Precisely.”
Dara’s confusion gave way to a narrowing of her eyes as she turned her full attention to me. “Your name is Adam, right?” she asked, her voice calm but her gaze piercing.
“Yep,” I replied, nodding. From the way she carried herself, something deep in my gut screamed: Don’t get on her bad side.
“Nyahaha!” Dix added, clearly oblivious to the tension. “He beat your record of thirty-seven minutes!”
My stomach dropped. Sweat began to bead on my forehead. Dix, for the love of all that’s holy, shut your mouth.
Dara’s stare didn’t waver, though her expression tightened. Meanwhile, Dix, completely immune to common sense, plowed ahead. “I remember how much prep you needed for that run, nya! Leylines, ziplines, distraction mines—what a show! But you know what he did, nya?” He jabbed a finger toward me, a wicked grin plastered across his face.
“Dix! Shut the hell up!” I thought desperately, but he didn’t even pause for breath.
“He just screamed the name of that new fugitive, Batman, and everyone ran off to search for him! Then he strolled in and grabbed the bug like it was nothing—”
Thwip!
Dix froze mid-sentence as a knife flew past his face, lodging itself in the wall behind him with a resounding thunk. A thin streak of blood trickled down his cheek where the blade had grazed him.
Slowly, Dix turned to look at the knife. Then, even more slowly, he turned back to Dara, his face pale with horror.
Dara smiled.
But it wasn’t a smile. It was the kind of smile that made demons flee. The kind that spoke of retribution. Behind it, I could practically see the image of a demon lord looming over her.
“Don’t forget your promise, nya,” she said sweetly, her tone light but dripping with menace. I couldn’t tell if she was mocking Dix’s speech or if her true self emerged when she was truly furious. “No more Bug Catching from now on, nya~.”
“Y-Yes, madam,” Dix stammered, raising his hands in surrender. His usual “nya” ticks vanished entirely. Even his tail drooped in submission.
When the storm finally passed and the tension in the room eased, we moved on to the crux of the matter.
My benefits of joining this organization.