Chapter 233: Just Blame It All on Gladiia
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
Chapter 233: Just Blame It All on Gladiia
Truth be told, Steven hadn’t left the scene immediately.
Even after the Armorless Union had successfully rescued Centaurea and quickly retreated, he remained in stealth, silently observing from the shadows.
Only once their shady-looking group disappeared into the building Durich had previously pointed out to him did Steven finally relax.
He spared the building's gate a glance—it was obvious the place was equipped with some kind of special detection mechanism—then nonchalantly turned and started heading back home.
There’s no need for him to push his luck.
He’d already confirmed the general location of their base, and his invisibility potion was only good for hiding his body, not things like heat signatures or scent.
It’s better for him to play it safe.
Besides, he'd been out for almost an entire day now. Probably about time he checked in on the two Abyssal Hunters he left at home.
To be honest, Steven wasn’t in a rush. The Armorless Union didn’t seem particularly interested in causing him any trouble for now, and he didn’t feel like getting further involved just yet. He still had plenty of time to spend in Kazimierz—why burn through all the fun in one go?
That’d be boring.
After ducking into a quiet alley and dispelling the effects of the invisibility potion, Steven whistled a little tune to himself as he counted the thick wad of cash he’d extorted from Centaurea—the rich little assassin lady—and began the stroll back to his apartment.
For an assassin, she sure carried a surprising amount of spending money.
Honestly, Steven was kind of jealous.
Still, judging from how she’d been treated by her superiors, it didn’t seem like she had a particularly stress-free job either.
Working for someone else just wasn’t for him—not that he needed to anyway.
With this cash in hand, Steven wouldn’t have to worry about money for a while. He figured a single bout of robbing the rich to “aid” himself was more than enough for now.
If he really ran out of funds, there was always the thing Durich mentioned before. If he could get his hands on that intel… well, he’d be very curious to see just how much the spokesman was willing to cough up for it.
“But hey, now that I’ve got some extra spending money,” he said to himself with a grin, “might as well treat myself. And maybe buy a few gifts for the girls too.”
His eyes landed on a storefront up ahead, featuring a full set of armor in the window, gleaming under the shop lights. He rubbed his chin, eyes sparkling with a familiar desire.
How could he resist? Shiny, badass-looking armor? That kind of thing was practically tailor-made to tempt him.
There wasn’t a single man alive who didn’t love heavy armor!
Without a second thought, Steven stepped into the shop—not that he could even tell which knight order this place was affiliated with—and started browsing through the endless rows of ornate, gleaming plate sets.
He didn’t care about practicality. No, what mattered was style. Aesthetic. Swag. And when it came to looking cool, nothing beat a flowing cape and dramatic lower hems. Sure, those things were absolute disasters in real combat, but in terms of visual appeal? Top tier.
Unfortunately, after browsing for a while, Steven still hadn’t found a set that suited him. Most of the capes could be customized, sure—but they all had the same problem. The designs were always just the emblems of some knight order. There was hardly any room for personal flair.
What if he wanted something like… say, a classic anime-style cape?
Apparently, that was too much to ask for.
“Unbelievable. This is blatant discrimination against the two-dimensional world!”
Clenching his fists tight, Steven stormed out of the shop, absolutely livid. He refused to accept a world where cape customization was so… so oppressive! Sure, it wasn’t like he needed to have his waifu printed across his back in glorious full color or anything… but the way that clerk looked at him when he mentioned anime—like he was some kind of freak—that hurt.
“That’s it. Not worth getting mad over. Let’s just go find something the little shark and orca might like instead,” he muttered, shaking his head as he tried to cool down.
Now that he had money, the only thing left was figuring out how to spend it. And since the two Abyssal Hunters were basically his companions at this point, there was no way he’d treat them poorly.
Skadi might look like a simpleton half the time, but Steven had a good read on her. She definitely had her own quiet little hobbies.
Kazimierz’s commercial sector didn’t disappoint. It wasn’t long before he stumbled upon the kind of shop he was looking for, just by aimlessly wandering the streets.
Even in a knight-obsessed nation like this, music still had its place. It was one of the most universal forms of art—something anyone could appreciate, even the most common of folk.
The moment he stepped into the music store, his eyes landed on it—a harp. Not flashy, but undeniably elegant. A finely crafted instrument that practically whispered sophistication.
He remembered it clearly: Skadi only ever looked truly relaxed when she was listening to music. That was one of the rare times she’d let her guard down, even if just a little. The way she never tried to hide it made it even more obvious.
Given her likely inability (or unwillingness) to handle anything too complex, Steven figured a harp was perfect—just pluck a few strings and you’ve got something beautiful. Any simpler, and you’d be looking at a triangle, which… might be pushing the limits of Skadi intelligence a bit too far.
As for Specter, that little psycho shark… well, he had no idea what she’d like.
Her brain was basically a warzone. The only thing she seemed to care about was slaughter. And while he was sure she’d be thrilled if he took her on a blood-soaked rampage through downtown Kazimierz… he certainly wouldn’t be.
After strumming the harp a few times to test its tone, Steven nodded, satisfied. No haggling, no second thoughts—he told the clerk to pack it up and bought it on the spot, stashing it away in his inventory.
When it came to Specter, he'd just take her shopping with him. With money to burn, why not indulge her curiosity a bit? If something caught her eye, she’d make it obvious. Probably by trying to bite it.
Unlike most guys, Steven didn’t really mind shopping with girls. In fact, as someone who’d been single since birth, he was still kind of curious about the whole experience. It had been labeled “hellish torture” by countless married men across the world—but how bad could it really be?
He wanted to find out for himself.
Taking his time, Steven eventually made his way back to the little inn he’d rented out. One look at the still-intact door told him all he needed to know—Specter was probably still asleep. Or maybe Skadi had managed to calm her down.
Either way, he was glad the place wasn’t in ruins.
From what he’d seen of those two together, property destruction was practically guaranteed. Just ask Rhodes Island about the Abyssal Hunter wing of their medical facility. Last he checked, it looked more like a post-apocalyptic battlefield than a recovery room.
Gently, Steven opened the door and poked his head inside. The moment he did, Skadi—who had been dozing by the bed—snapped awake.
Figures. Abyssal Hunters were always on high alert. He’d barely even touched the doorknob before she was already opening her eyes, instincts sharper than ever.
And this was with him approaching completely harmlessly. If he'd stepped through the door with even a sliver of killing intent, he had no doubt Skadi would've been waiting at the top of the stairs, blade in hand.
"Still asleep, huh? I don’t think I hit her that hard..." he muttered, glancing over at the groggy girl on the bed.
He gave a quick nod to Skadi, who was still waking up, then turned his attention to the one still deeply asleep—Specter, lying there like some sort of deranged Sleeping Beauty.
Her figure was... well, compared to Skadi, she was definitely more voluptuous. But slimmer than Gladiia. If Steven had to describe it, it’d be something like: dangerously curvy, with just a little too much temptation.
Especially like this—flat on her back, completely unaware. That made it all the more noticeable.
But that wasn’t what caught Steven’s attention.
No—what drew his eyes were her furrowed brows and the sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. She wasn’t just sleeping uncomfortably. This looked like… pain. Or a nightmare. Or maybe—worst-case scenario—the Originium fluid inside her body was going berserk again.
He walked to the side of the bed, motioned for Skadi to scoot over, then casually grabbed a tissue and began wiping down the sweat on Specter’s forehead.
The moment he touched her, his expression darkened.
She was burning up.
“Not good,” Steven muttered, brow furrowed.
“She woke up once,” Skadi said quietly from the side, now fully alert. “Fully conscious, I mean. But even then, all she did was call out my name… and the Second Company Captain’s. Then she mumbled something about an ‘idiot boat’ and passed out again.”
“‘Idiot boat’? What kind of cursed vocabulary is that supposed to be?”
Steven’s face twisted into something halfway between a grimace and a laugh, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he sighed, reached into his inventory, and pulled out a healing potion.
He didn’t even hesitate.
His go-to solution for anything not involving literal blood loss was simple: three-step healing protocol. And this wasn’t the kind of situation where milk was gonna cut it. So down went the potion.
Maybe it was just that Abyssal Hunters had a ridiculous HP bar, or maybe their bodies were just built different. Either way, diluted healing potions never seemed to do much for them. Luckily, he was here. If it were Rhodes Island handling this, even Kal'tsit might’ve been stumped.
Grabbing Specter by the chin, he unceremoniously pinched open her mouth and poured the potion straight in—no gentle coaxing, no "sip it slowly." Just pure force-feeding.
Thankfully, healing potions were reliable as ever. Within seconds, the feverish heat on her skin began to fade, and the tight pain in her expression started to ease.
“This one’s on your Second Company Captain again. When she comes asking about it, make sure you back me up—I treated you girls way better than I needed to, alright?” he said with a smirk, speaking as if Specter could even hear him.
As usual, he shifted the blame to his conveniently absent “daughter.” Watching Specter finally stabilize, a weight lifted off Steven’s chest.
“…Can’t I be the one to repay the debt instead?” Skadi asked, clearly reluctant to let her teammate shoulder the burden alone.
“Ha. Nah. Not interested in you,” Steven replied, waving her off with a chuckle.
Then, leaning forward, he reached out and pinched Specter’s cheek.
“Alright, enough beauty sleep. We’re going shopping.”
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