On My First Day Undercover, the Organization Collapsed - Chapter 415
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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First Day of Infiltration, The Organization Was Destroyed — Episode 415
Bandits and Steelheart (3)
Secret Arts Users are born through bloodline inheritance.
The timing and conditions of their awakening remain poorly understood.
Moreover, their numbers are vanishingly small, and the extraordinary power some Secret Arts Users possess naturally invites interference.
It is only because Secret Arts Users made significant contributions to the founding and expansion of the Valdrain Empire that the practice has survived at all.
Perhaps, had Rop’s Secret Arts awakened a few years before his family’s destruction, things might have unfolded differently.
Tremendous, inhuman strength!
A body capable of withstanding that very strength!
With this power, he endured years of hardship and gathered mercenaries one by one, until at last he formed what others called the “Bandit Organization.”
That was what outsiders called it.
But Rop saw it differently.
It was an organization destined to conquer the Western Region and spread across the entire Empire.
And yet——
He had encountered an opponent who defied all reason.
“You—are you a Secret Arts User too!”
“No.”
“Then it must be magic!”
“No.”
“Then what…… are you?”
Ziel answered the bewildered Rop.
“Ziel Steelheart. Official Teacher of the Junior Year at Edelwein Academy Sword School. And the master of this territory you’ve occupied.”
Could that really explain such strength?
“Boss, it seems you’ve already won.”
“Hmm. As I thought, the wound I made is deeper. And I’ve made another one.”
“That’s not—yes, you’ve won, Boss.”
“M-Master. He’s stronger.”
“Mm.”
What if this was all an illusion or a mirage?
‘Yes, I’ve heard there’s something like that among the Secret Arts.’
After realizing his own power was a form of Secret Arts, Rop had sought contact with other Secret Arts Users.
The world of Secret Arts proved remarkably diverse.
A realm that couldn’t be explained by swordsmanship and magic alone!
He’d heard there were powers that could bewitch human eyes and mind, making one perceive something entirely different.
That had to be it.
A single sword strike wielded so casually splitting the very ground?
“How dare you lie. So you were a Secret Arts User after all!”
“I’m not.”
“I will break through this illusion!”
Crash!
Again the deafening sound; the earth cratered beneath him, and a shockwave swept across the area. This time, screams erupted from the other subordinates who had rushed in after hearing the first commotion.
“C-Captain! Aaahhh!”
“Ugh! Gah!”
“C-Captain! Captain! Help us here too——!”
Ziel made a decision.
“If he thrashes about any more, he’ll damage the territory.”
Ziel moved in at once.
Dodging the incoming fist——
‘This can’t be real.’
——he pierced Rop’s shoulder with his ‘Sword.’
‘It’s an illusion. A mirage…… confusion……’
He denied it to the very end.
But as pain flooded in and consciousness began to slip away, he suddenly understood one thing.
Perhaps……
It wasn’t an illusion at all.
* * *
The situation was resolved quickly.
“He was an unreasonable opponent, certainly.”
“You two could have beaten him as well.”
“What? But we use Secret Arts?”
“At the moment of attack, I confirmed that the Secret Arts handling physical defense don’t function.”
“……We had no way of knowing that.”
“Now that we do, we can win.”
Gilbert clicked his tongue.
If knowledge alone were enough to win, as the Boss suggested, those devastating fists would still be the problem—and finding an opening to exploit them wouldn’t be easy.
Meanwhile, Kelvin was watching the fallen Rob with a meaningful gaze.
“What’s wrong with him? Kelvin!”
“…….”
“Kelvin!”
Gilbert approached him, unable to bear the silence, and asked.
“What are you doing?”
“He, he has no muscle!”
“Huh?”
“But, yet such monstrous strength!”
“Ah.”
Whether it was envy or anger, it was hard to tell.
Perhaps one or the other—or both.
Kelvin’s eyes darted back and forth between his own muscular frame and Rob’s lean body until his frustration boiled over.
“All my years of work!”
“There, there. It’s Secret Arts. Just think of it as an act of nature!”
“I, I envy him.”
Kelvin suddenly dropped his sword and clenched his fists.
He gathered his mana together, and then—
Bang!
He tore a crater into the ground.
“Huff, huff.”
But it was smaller than Rob’s.
And blood was flowing from his knuckles.
“…….”
Ziel approached and offered advice.
“Your emission timing was late. Release faster. And withdraw your fist just before the mana reaches its target. That way, you’ll increase the power and prevent injury to your hand. You’re striking with mana, not your fist.”
It was an unexpected semester of training.
Bang, bang!
Impromptu as it was, the training proved effective.
“It’s the same as the Captain’s?”
“What do we do now……?”
Fear—that’s what was taking root!
To Rob’s bandits, Kelvin’s display was nothing short of a show of military might!
“We can leave them be.”
Gilbert turned to Ziel.
“Boss, but what about those two?”
Rob’s closest associates.
Slinick and Aleksei.
Both large mercenaries.
After Rob was subdued and paralyzed, they’d drawn their swords and fixed their gaze on our direction.
“May I take one of them?”
“Go ahead. Have Kelvin handle the other.”
“Yes, Boss!”
Gilbert’s spirits lifted.
Kelvin, hearing the news, was equally delighted.
Kelvin abandoned his greatsword entirely and stepped forward with bare fists.
“Where’s your sword?”
“I’m, I’m training!”
“…….”
Which meant he was currently in the middle of bare-fisted training and intended to kill two birds with one stone by fighting unarmed.
“Do as you see fit.”
Gilbert drew his sword.
Kelvin raised his fists.
Slinick and Aleksei, sensing instinctively that the two meant to fight them, stepped forward to meet them.
“Captain! We’ll save you!”
That was the last of it.
Crunch.
Gilbert charged forward in a blur, slipped past Aleksei’s sword, and drove his blade through the man’s shoulder and thigh.
The recipient couldn’t even follow the speed with his eyes!
This was what Master-level looked like.
And Kelvin, who matched that caliber, was no less formidable.
“Now we can finally settle who’s the finest mercenary in the Western Region…….”
Bang!
The same fist that had gouged a pit in the ground moments earlier shattered Slinick’s blade and smashed into his chest.
“Hack—gasp—ahhhhh!”
Slinick’s body tumbled about a dozen times before crashing into nearby rubble.
Everything fell silent.
Gilbert frowned.
‘I should’ve made it look more impressive knocking him down.’
Kelvin, by contrast, looked bewildered as his opponent simply lay buried in the debris.
“Wait—that’s it?”
……
Of course it was over.
But he wasn’t satisfied.
“More—more training!”
He wore a disappointed expression, eager to test his fists further.
Ziel nodded as if everything had gone exactly as expected.
“They were never a match.”
One was Master-level.
The other possessed strength that matched a Master.
Mere mercenaries couldn’t stand against them.
The two closest allies had fallen.
Now only the remnants remained, cowering flat on the ground!
‘No—no, are we all dead?’
‘We’re not dead yet! We should be begging for mercy!’
Their grand ambitions, their dreams of conquest in the Western Region—all gone with the commander and two officers.
There had been mercenaries of considerable skill in the Western Region, but that fact now meant nothing.
Ziel Steelheart!
An existence beyond imagination.
“Boss, it appears to be settled now,” one of the mercenaries said.
Ziel finished his deliberation.
Then he asked one of the mercenaries a question.
“Who holds the highest authority in my territory?”
“Eh? Well, that would be you, Ziel Steelheart…….”
“No—I’m asking who was in charge while I was gone.”
The mercenaries exchanged uncertain glances.
Eventually, one of them spoke up.
“We’ve locked him in a temporary prison near the mansion ruins. He claims to be a butler of the Steelheart Family.”
* * *
The Steelheart Family.
When a family falls, naturally its household staff suffer the same ruin.
Kind-hearted Family Heads, sensing the approach of their downfall, sometimes release their remaining household staff to freedom before the end comes.
But there are other outcomes.
Some demand their servants remain as members of the family until the very end.
Others cannot release them because the situation unfolds too suddenly.
And then there’s one more possibility.
When the household staff themselves refuse to leave.
Gibson, the Steelheart Family’s butler—a butler who had served the Steelheart lineage for generations—was such a man.
Some twenty-five years prior.
When the Steelheart Family fell, Gibson refused to flee.
He remained despite the Family Head’s orders, and during the attack, he was knocked unconscious. When he awoke, he found himself staring at the burnt ruins of the mansion.
From that day on, he remained here.
He lived in a ramshackle hut for twenty-five years.
Waiting—always waiting—for any survivor of the family to return.
Then one day.
“Head Butler, did you hear? A hero has been born in the Empire, and they say the name is Steelheart!”
A territorial resident with nowhere else to go, stranded here, brought him the news that seemed impossible.
Gibson’s joy was unmistakable.
Life flickered back into eyes that had been fading, and he tended to the whiskers and clothing he’d always maintained with even greater care.
And on top of that—news of the Steelheart Family’s restoration!
Gibson had no regrets, even facing death.
If only he could serve the Steelheart Family once more.
But then those cursed bandits arrived.
Their purpose mattered little to him.
The audacity of occupying Steelheart territory!
“You rotten bastards! Have you all fled?”
He’d heard some commotion earlier, and sure enough, the guards keeping watch over the prison had rushed off in that direction.
Alone in the prison, Gibson bellowed at the top of his lungs.
He was still shouting when—
The mercenaries returned.
Their expressions were grim.
“You wretches! Once the Master returns, you’ll—”
“He’s back.”
“What?”
“The Master came looking for you. Go on.”
Click.
The prison door swung open.
Gibson stared in utter disbelief.
“He’s… back?”
“Yes.”
Gibson rose at once, pushed past the mercenaries, and ran.
At last, he stood face to face with him.
The silver-haired man.
Ziel Steelheart.
His master.
“Master!”
Thump.
Gibson collapsed to his knees.
“Careful, you’ll scrape them raw,” Gilbert murmured with concern.
But Gibson heard nothing.
“Master… you’ve finally returned…”
Tears streamed down his face.
Gibson wept without restraint, overwhelmed by emotion.
Ziel approached and helped Gibson to his feet.
Then he took the old man’s scraped knees into his hands.
“The bleeding has stopped.”
“Master… how could you be so kind…! Truly, you have inherited the very nature of the Previous Family Head…!”
Gibson looked at his knees, now miraculously healed, then suddenly seized Ziel’s hand.
“I have been waiting, Master. Now you are the rightful Family Head of the Steelheart Family!”
“I know.”
Ziel asked quietly.
“You were waiting for the Steelheart Family?”
“Yes! I waited. For twenty-five years!”
“Even if I had never returned?”
“I would have waited even in death.”
“I see.”
“Welcome home, Master. Your Head Butler asks for nothing more.”
“No. There is much we must strive for ahead.”
Ziel turned his gaze across the territory before him.
It was vast.
Yet everything was inadequate.
The people were few, the buildings sparse.
And essential infrastructure was wanting.
“From now on, what Head Butler Gibson must hope for is the development of this territory.”
Thump-thump.
Her heart raced, her blood surged. What a feeling!
This territory, left to decay after the Organization’s destruction, ravaged by the Rim family and raided by bandits, was finally seeing light break through.
“I shall obey your command. What should I begin with?”
Ziel recalled a chapter from a book he’d once read: Fundamentals of Territory Management.
The first step was district reorganization and improving the quality of life for the territory’s people.
“We need labor. There’s much to be done.”
Gibson’s eyes gleamed.
What caught his gaze were the mercenaries scattered about.
“Use them, sir. These men deserve to pay their due.”
“Their due? They never caused direct harm to the territory’s people.”
“Occupying the Steelheart Territory itself was tremendous harm! Let them labor to restore this land!”
It was fortunate timing.
There was a shortage of hands, yet work abounded.
And before them lay free labor, scattered like fallen leaves.
“So it shall be.”
The bandits transformed into indefinite laborers in that moment.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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