Chapter 191: The Mediator

A deathly cold silence hung over the suddenly claustrophobic bar.

Through the thin haze of white smoke and dim light, every face was fixed on the man standing behind the counter—faces wearing the same expression of stunned disbelief, as if thinking, Am I dreaming right now?

What had he just said?

Dogs?

He wanted them... to be his dogs?

Who the hell did he think they were?

They were the bosses of the Lower City’s underworld. And this nobody—from God knows where—thought he had the right?

Clink.

In the silence, someone crushed their glass in hand, so furious they wanted to leap across the room and cut down this arrogant fool.

But the tension dragged on, and no one even dared spit at him—because Shurz was still staring at them, eyes open, dead and unblinking.

Nobody knew if speaking up would make this lunatic suddenly lash out again.

In the Lower City, the most feared people were lunatics without scruples—especially when that lunatic also happened to be terrifyingly strong.

None of them had even seen how this man had cut Shurz’s head off. They hadn’t seen a weapon at all.

“Why’s everyone so quiet? I’m not some man-eating beast.”

Not a speck of blood on him, as if he hadn’t just killed the leader of one of the largest gangs in the district, the man calling himself Bruce lazily pulled the finest bottle from behind the counter and poured himself a glass.

He swirled it, gazing through the crystal-clear liquor at their ugly, stiff faces, smiling warmly—like a gracious host entertaining honored guests.

“Come now, speak freely. If you have questions, ask. Time’s short, but I’m happy to answer.”

“You want to rule the entire Lower City?”

At last, someone in the shadows couldn’t hold back. Here, asking about one’s real name or face was meaningless—so he went straight to the heart.

“You want to be the Dark Emperor?”

“Heh. Dark Emperor—what a chūnibyō title.”

Muen chuckled. “But if you insist on thinking that, sure, take me as such.”

“Why should we?”

“Mmm... Killing Shurz—still not enough?”

“Not enough.”

“Then... what if I add all of you to the list?”

His lips curled in a mocking smile, his tone light—as if crushing a handful of ants.

“Would your lives... be enough?”

“You’re... threatening us?”

Someone’s voice trembled—not clear if from fear or rage.

“That depends on how you take it. You can call it a threat... or you can call it a display of strength.”

Outside, each boss’s guards had already surrounded the bar, sealing every exit. A faint murmur of spellcasting echoed—their hired mages ready to unleash at any moment.

Even with the Rat King’s elites inside, they couldn’t take on everyone.

One word from anyone here, and this man would be shredded by blades and magic in an instant.

Yet he just shrugged, ignoring the armed mob outside, poured himself another drink, and sipped leisurely.

“Honestly, I think this is an easy choice. Since you house dogs need a master, why shouldn’t that master be me?”

Right.

If there’s going to be a master anyway...

Why couldn’t it be me?

With plain, almost casual words, he voiced a truth that made them all seethe.

“Enough!”

Suddenly, an imposing old woman in the corner slammed the table, roaring:

“How many times do you think you can insult us? Do you think our patience endless?”

“Insult?”

Muen looked at her in puzzlement.

“When did I ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) insult you?”

“You keep calling us—”

“Calling you house dogs? No, no, no—that’s not an insult. I’m just stating facts.”

His gaze swept over their furious faces, voice dripping with scorn.

“Look at you, gentlemen—so anxious without someone’s hand on your leash, so restless you can’t even sleep. If that’s not a house dog, what is?

“Frankly, the stray mutts digging through trash on the street have more spine than you.”

He felt several killing intents bloom from among them before he even finished speaking.

But still, no one dared draw a weapon—or give the order to the men outside.

Because Shurz had died right in front of them.

They might once have been the most feral, dangerous beasts in the Lower City, but after too long at the top—and willingly fastening leashes around their own necks to keep it—they’d lost their backbone.

Now they feared death more than anyone... just like Lorenzo before.

Pathetic.

“In that case, I have a better idea,” the old woman suddenly said.

“Oh?”

Muen narrowed his eyes at her.

...He knew her.

Digging through Anne’s intel in his mind, he placed her.

The Mediator.

Once a noble’s mistress, she had deep connections on many sides. Her refusal to join any single faction in the Lower City had made her the grease that kept the gears turning—settling disputes between gangs when needed.

Many major conflicts had seen her step in as a neutral party. Hence, “The Mediator”—a figure of great influence here.

“I know you’re all uneasy. So, why not take this opportunity... to unite?”

Straightening, she tapped her cane on the floor, sweeping the room with a cold gaze. When it passed over Muen, it carried a flicker of disdain.

“If we stand together—if the entire Lower City stands together—no storm can topple us. Even this man, this stranger from nowhere, is just a paper tiger! I don’t believe so many of us couldn’t take one man!”

“And who leads? Who rules the Lower City?”

“No one rules. No Dark Emperor!”

Her voice rose.

“We’ll follow the nobles’ own example—create a fair council, with every boss here having a seat. Every matter decided by discussion and vote!

“With that, we become the largest power in all Belrand. Even the high-and-mighty nobles can’t point fingers at us. We’ll cast off their shadow... and make the Lower City truly ours.”