You're the One

"Understood, Lord Hades," Number One Hanzo replied.

"Do you know how to draw? Hmm... never mind. Wait here a moment." Hades asked, then suddenly remembered something. A black box appeared in his hand, and he passed it to Number One Hanzo.

"What is this, Lord Hades?" Number One Hanzo asked, holding the box.

"You don't know what this is?" Hades asked.

"I do not, my lord," Number One Hanzo replied.

"Oh, all right. Watch how I use it." Hades took it back and began explaining how the camera worked. Although YGGDRASIL was set in Norse mythology and its civilization was limited to the Middle Ages, it was still a game, so all sorts of modern objects and tools existed in it.

Hades had assumed that, since Hanzo was also a creation of YGGDRASIL, he would know what a camera was. But that didn't seem to be the case. These NPCs' knowledge was probably limited to their basic settings.

After teaching Number One Hanzo how to use the camera, Hades had him hide inside the Magic Caster Guild. If the human level cap was only 42, then the locals would have even less chance of detecting a monster like Hanzo, who could evade even level-100 NPCs.

Hades had considered changing his appearance and repeating what he'd just done to the two girls, to dilute the impression he'd left on them. But after thinking it over, he felt that might only make things worse.

Since there was a chance he'd expose himself, rather than making things worse, he'd have Hanzo monitor the place and record everyone who came by.

Hades reckoned that if Momonga wanted to find out who had assassinated him, he would investigate in secret and also use himself as bait to lure the enemy out.

Now that Momonga knew the resurrection item worked, he was even more likely to show himself. In a formal PVP match, some players would deliberately lose the first round. That not only put their opponent off guard but also let them gather information, giving them a better chance of winning the next two rounds and taking the match.

Hades thought Momonga would probably take that approach, so there was a chance he would show up here sometime soon.

If he came to the Magic Caster Guild, Hades would learn about it in advance. But given his undead appearance, he might send one of his NPCs instead, or disguise himself.

Either way, putting himself in their shoes, Hades couldn't rule out a member of Nazarick coming to the Magic Caster Guild. It was essential to set up a spy in advance.

Number One Hanzo left, and Hades stepped out of the alley. For a moment, he felt at a loss. The New World was so weak—did he even need to become an adventurer?

He'd originally had three reasons for becoming an adventurer: to earn money, hide his identity, and find potential allies.

But since this world had scrolls, and even low-tier ones, all he needed to do was find the materials used to make them. Then he could produce scrolls himself and sell them cheaply.

For now, he had no desire to use his own materials to make anything. Who could have known the world would be such a mess? Every material he had was a strategic resource, even the low-tier ones.

As for finding allies, forget it. He doubted a thousand people would be as useful as a single summoned mercenary.

The only reason to continue down the adventurer's path was to hide his identity.

With no other choice, he'd be an adventurer for a while. At least there wasn't a bookstore around where he could buy books like World History.

He could also learn a few things from his adventuring companions without drawing too much attention.

He'd been in high spirits on his way to the Magic Caster Guild. Now, as he headed to the adventurer inn, his feelings were more complicated.

He knew that Ainz Ooal Gown wouldn't be easy to destroy, but at the time, it hadn't seemed impossible. Now, if the world really was only this powerful, Hades thought he'd be better off changing his name and enjoying life as soon as possible.

As long as he stayed out of sight, those heteromorphic beings couldn't do anything to him—unless they slaughtered the entire world.

With heavy steps, Hades followed the directions on the map and found the adventurer inn Old Burke had mentioned. Its half-height swinging doors made it look a little like a saloon from the Wild West.

The sign did say it was an inn, though. It was a large three-story building made entirely of wood. That covered up some of its age and gave it a certain charm.

The sun hadn't set yet, but after all the trouble he'd been through, it was nearly dinnertime. A few figures could be seen inside the inn.

Hades stepped forward and pushed open the double swinging doors. The smell of alcohol and mildew hit him at once. Dozens of wooden tables filled the hall. At the far end stood a bar lined with bottles, where a middle-aged man who looked like he could be either the owner or the bartender was wiping down a glass.

The place was worlds apart from the inn where he was staying. Hades couldn't help frowning. As he entered, the scattered patrons turned hostile looks on him, and the hall, which had been somewhat noisy, fell silent.

The people here wore what were clearly pieces of armor or protective gear. Some had weapons at their waists or set beside them. There was no need to ask; these people were adventurers.

Hades didn't flinch under the many hostile stares. Back in his original world, his status had exposed him to all kinds of looks. He'd faced far more intimidating crowds, too.

But what should he do now? Hades was at a loss. He hadn't come here to rent a room. He wanted to find adventuring companions who could teach him the basics of the New World, so he naturally wouldn't go to the bar and ask for a room.

Under the hostile gazes, Hades surveyed the adventurers in the hall, hoping to find someone he could talk to. Instinctively, he ruled out the adventurers huddled together in groups.

They looked at him with contempt. Approaching them would only be asking for trouble. But when he looked around, contempt seemed to be the only expression anyone gave him.

Maybe it was because of his build. Old Burke had said that almost no one besides adventurers came to the adventurer inn, so when they saw his slender frame, they'd naturally assumed he was a weakling.

He wasn't short—around six feet tall—but next to those broad, sturdy men, he looked more like a frail Magic Caster. And yet, his clothes didn't look like a Magic Caster's.

As Hades's gaze swept across the room, he suddenly noticed someone at a round table who wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was fiddling with a glass bottle.

Perfect. You're the one.