The Narrow Alley

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Norbien carefully unscrewed the bottle in front of him, poured some unidentified liquid onto a piece of soft fur, then used the soaked fur to wipe the longsword in his hand.

His expression was focused.

His movements were even more practiced.

Not a single drop of the unidentified liquid spilled. Norbien spread it evenly over the entire longsword.

The blade, which had originally gleamed with a metallic sheen, turned a dull blue-black. A faint, foul stench drifted from it.

It was enough to make anyone gag.

But Norbien nodded in satisfaction and sheathed the longsword.

Then his gaze fell on the bottle, now empty after the application, and a look of regret crossed his face.

A moment later, greed replaced it.

The thought of the points and skill points his "target" possessed filled Norbien with excitement.

He had never expected such a simple job to land him such a big fish.

"Once I finish this job, I'll have enough to raise my strength several notches!"

"The next instance world will be much easier to handle, too!"

Norbien could not help fantasizing.

This was not his first time doing something like this.

Nor would it be his last.

Compared with the difficult, perilous instance worlds and their meager rewards, Norbien absolutely loved this simple, safe, and lucrative approach.

The first time, he had only done it because he had no other choice.

But once he had tasted the rewards, Norbien had become thoroughly engrossed.

All he had to do was play his assigned role, and his targets would walk right