I Became The Administrator of A Sacred Ground
Chapter 61: A Mystery Too Dangerous To Investigate

Chapter 61: A Mystery Too Dangerous To Investigate

No matter how much stronger he was at the moment compared to the average man, Euri doubted that he could take a sharp, swinging machete head on. So he quickly slipped into another room before they could reach him.

"Everyone! We found him!" One of the men yelled for all his reinforcements downstairs, flashing a torch inside the room. The poor man had no idea that not a single soul would be coming to assist them.

The torchlight eventually found Euri, huddled in a corner behind a rusty bedframe.

"You’re gonna pay for what you did to Kiffs, fucker!"

"Should’ve done him in back that day! Son of a bitch!"

As both men ran towards Euri, machetes ready to slash, he grabbed onto the metal frame of the bed and pushed upwards with the entirety of his strength.

For a second, the bolts keeping the frame in place let out a high-pitched groan, and just as the two machetes in front of Euri slashed downwards, half of the frame was ripped out, slamming into both men hard.

The machetes missed Euri’s shoulders by a finger’s breadth, hitting the bedframe. The collision with the metal rods was so forceful that one of the men lost his grip on the machete handle.

But he didn’t have the opportunity to be concerned with the loss of his weapon. Having the broken bedframe slam into his ribcage was not a minor distraction. Both men could barely breathe, clutching their chests in pain.

Euri kicked the other side of the broken bedframe with full power again, and it practically launched them both across the room, slamming them into the nearest wall.

While they unsuccessfully scampered to get back on their feet, Euri looked down. The fallen machete was right at his feet.

But he didn’t pick it up. No, there was a better weapon for the fate he had in mind for these two.

He kicked downwards on one of the intact rods of the bedframe and broke it into two. Weighing the separated rod in his palm, he couldn’t help but smile.

"Not too heavy, not too light, perfect for a painful fight. It even has a pointy end. Are the heavens assisting me tonight?"

Turning towards his crawling opponents, he shouted, "Hey, did you notice that it rhymed? You guys are seriously good at bringing out my creativity; almost making me consider leaving you alive tonight. Should I?"

Instead of answering him, both of them crawled desperately towards the door, yelling for their teammates.

"Fitch! Where the fuck are you guys?"

"Josie! We’re here! Help!"

"Motherfuckers!"

Bang!

"Oomph-!"

Bang!

"Hackghh-!"

Bang!

Bang!

Eventually, no more noise resounded inside the concrete building. A handful of windows opened in the neighborhood, but no gaze from outside could penetrate the darkness it was submerged in. And no one was bold enough to venture in without knowing what was really happening.

In the Tail Zone slums, getting into other people’s business was the worst idea you could have at the dead of the night.

Half an hour later, a shadow emerged from the building and disappeared amidst the maze-like streets of Red Tarp Slum. The only trace he left of his handiwork was the wads of cash tucked into the pockets of six unconscious men.

As long as nobody robbed them while they were knocked out, they could buy some medical supplies for their head injuries—the thought reduced the slight guilt in Euri’s heart.

As for the three murders, he had imagined committing them in vivid detail every damn night since their first encounter. Having seen dozens of fresh corpses in the slums over the years, he wasn’t too perturbed.

Many of them had been in far worse conditions than what he did to those three thugs.

Sitting alone in the night shuttle, a much calmer Euri consolidated the intel his three victims had revealed under torture.

It had come to him as a surprise when Kiffs had voluntarily confessed some interesting facts, prompting him to interrogate the other two as well.

Seeing how all three of their accounts corroborated each other, Euri now had a reliable piece of news in his hands.

"So the girl they killed that day wasn’t a random target. The upper-level members of the Faceless Cult knew who she was, and they entrusted the foot soldiers of the cult to search for her across the city.

Interestingly enough, they told everyone that even if her corpse was discovered, bringing it back to the cult would be enough for generous rewards. That’s why these three got the idea to have their ’fun’ before handing her over."

"But the police claimed that she has no digital footprints. So how do the Faceless Cult’s members know her? She can’t be one of their own people, can she?

And what did she do to warrant their pursuit? Is the Sacred Ground Game connected to this whole thing?"

Euri thought back to the girl’s resemblance to Sol-Wa, his in-game assistant. The mystery here was bigger than he had imagined. It wasn’t a simple coincidence that a piece of alienware was infesting his miniscreen now.

Sol-Wa, the dead girl, Faceless Cult, and the sacred ground—there was a thread connecting them all. But unveiling the mystery would require far more than a physique rated 1.27 points.

For now, he put the concern to the back of his mind. Unless the Faceless Cult somehow tracked him down, he wouldn’t even think about coming into contact with them in the near future.

Feeling like a great burden was off his shoulders, Euri grabbed a familiar-looking magazine from the floor of the shuttle. To his delight, it turned out to be a recent issue of his favorite magazine series—The Suit Culture.

A great share of his knowledge about the corporate world came from this magazine series. It published interesting corporate stories from all over the continent, written in a somewhat satiric undertone.

Although it couldn’t be relied on for real facts due to its tendency to exaggerate some aspects, the stories were rooted in real incidents.

"Nothing like some wild stories to take your mind off a wild night," Euri muttered to himself a little forcefully, sinking his full focus into the magazine for the rest of the ride.