When the work was done, he stood up from his subject. In the humble shack, on the rough stone floor, blood and excrement were piled up thickly, but not on Jacob. After all, his costume was specially designed for the task he had just completed.

"What do you think?" He asked.

Hesquel snorted in response.

"Exactly. It's far from my best piece, but the sample is healthy enough that I'm sure he'll prove his worth. ”

Jacob used materials provided by his dead comrades to transform the captured guards. He also made improvised tools from items and materials that Heskeel had gotten from the guards: sewing needles sewn from bone fragments; threads made of strung and tangled hairs; rough blades of varying sizes, though not completely blunt, made from the fragments of two swords; And a little magic.

For Jacob, magic was a relatively new skill, as his grandfather didn't teach him the relevant spells until he was ten years old. Most of the spells are necromancy and demonic ritual scripts.

Jacob's use of "life-prolonging rituals" ensured that the man's body would survive much longer than in natural conditions, as this combination of inferior materials extracted from incompatible donors, as well as poor working conditions, would eventually lead to rejection, necrosis, and sepsis.

To ensure that the forcibly transplanted bones, skin, muscles, and flesh would be joined together quickly and firmly, he used amalgam hymns, spells created by his grandfather through a long study of chimeras and ancient spell books, which were so old that natural light would erase their handwriting.

Without an order, Heskel made a makeshift water skin out of the guards' leather armor and collected the blood of the captives. Jacob took the leather satchel that had been handed to him, the blood swaying happily, and he pulled a necklace from under his apron. It's a simple chain, and while it's well made, it's attached to an elongated glass vial. The vial contained a tar-like substance that was dark and seemed to absorb light.

Jacob expertly uncorked the bottle and pulled a small drop from the cork into the captive's blood. Then he put it away, took off his perfume mask, and savored the pungent smell of copper in the shed. He bit his lower lip until blood gushed out, then let it fall freely from his jaw and into the blood mixture as well. He wiped his mouth and jaw, then put on his mask again.

Stirred with a worn belt, the mixture suddenly became viscous like syrup, and the red color seemed to be thicker.

Jacob knelt in front of the still unconscious man, his arms and legs bulging with his newfound potential. On the skin of the hollowed-out stomach, what was taken from the liver, intestines, kidneys and other non-essentials, he painted like a brush with a worn belt. With a mixture of blood, Jacob drew two pentagram stars and two signs of a submissive squire in it so that they overlapped. Considering its role in instilling simple obedience in the subject, this is a demonic sign that Jakob has drawn so many times before that he doesn't need to check any lines.

"Is the next one a symbol of God?"

Heskeil snorted disapprovingly.

"You're right. I forgot the contract symbol, didn't I?"

He moved to the bare chest of the captive and drew the Eye of the Watcher, which symbolized the unbreakable pact between the two parts. Grandfather told him that no one could lie or deceive under the watchful eye of the watchman, so the portrait of the watchman was often invoked in many demonic rituals. It is painted as a symbolic eye in two triangles that overlap each other, so that they form a hexagon.

He drew the sign of the Lord on the man's forehead. Unlike the other two symbols, this one is simple: a trident with a circle in the middle. Its simplicity is commensurate with the irrefutable and undeniable power of the Lord.

Jacob took a step back and observed his work.

"Heskel, you don't mind, do you?"

The White snorted in agreement, knelt before the captive, and made sure that every sign was placed where it should be, drawn with the right lines, without any deviation or interruption. After all, such a mistake could have devastating effects, affecting the summoner whose blood is infused with paint.

After a few minutes, he stood up and nodded affirmatively.

"Good."

Jacob took off his leather gloves and pulled out the knife he had used to cut through the target's flesh. He groaned with the lilting tongue of the Son of Hell as he slowly sliced it across his open palm.

"Watchman, I beg you to observe this ritual. I implore you to secure its ownership. ”

"By this ceremony, I declare that I am Lord. Through this ritual, I enslaved this soul to me. ”

"It is made with the blood of God, the watchman and the squire, this is my absolute subject."

Standing above the captive, Jacob felt blood suck out of the wound on his palm. In the process of collecting blood fees, not a single drop of water fell on the dirty stone floor. Although it felt like a barbed tongue had slipped across his entire arm, he accepted the move without hesitation, knowing that the ritual only required a drink of his blood.

When the toll was collected, the symbols painted on the captives lit up in turn, first the sign of God, then the sign of the obedient squire, and finally the sign of the watcheye.

At the moment when the light faded and the signs faded, the captives woke up spasmodically.

"Your name." Jacob asked.

As if something demonic dwelling in his throat, the servant who had just done the work said hoarsely, "...... Callum. The low timbre of his new voice gave Jacob goosebumps. It was an uncontrollable automatic reaction, as it reminded him of Raleigh's monotonous guttural voice, the grandfather who had succeeded in grafting a demon's soul onto a human body for the first time.

He held back his discomfort for a moment and continued the interrogation.

"Where do you live?"

“… SLUM.”

Jakob sighed. He had planned to use the new servant's home as a temporary base until he found a better footing in Helmsgarten.

"If you live in a slum, why would you defend it?"

“…… Money. ”

"Do you think it's too late to find another one?" Jacob asks Heskele, who, despite wearing a shy mask, speaks as depressed as Jacob.

The White snorted coldly.

"No, you're right, it's a waste of time that has already been invested...... Callum. "You're going to help me find a place to work in the neighborhood without being disturbed."

“… YES.”

The servant immediately walked out of the door of the hut, followed by Jacob and Heskeil.

Before dawn, the three of them passed through the residential area, and suddenly, they were greeted by a large group of guards with a total of 12 people.

"Who's there!?" The first one shouted, raising the torch above his head and shining it on them.

"There are too many people." Before Jacob could give the order to attack, Heskel warned. Without questioning White's judgment, he made a swift decision.

"Callum, you can repay me and promise that no one will follow us. If possible, divert their attention from us to the slums. ”

The servant let out a sound of gnashing of teeth, and then admitted:

“…… Killed. ”

As Callum rushed towards a dozen guards, Jacob and Heskeel hurried away along a nearby alley.

The forged servant strode towards the guard with thunderous steps, each of his steps crushing the cobblestones under his feet with powerful steps.

When the naked monster fully entered their field of vision, the guards muttered curses and prayed to retreat, then quickly recovered and confronted the crooked former guard with their swords. Some could even recognize his disfigured face.

The blade of the first guard hit one of Callum's reinforced arms, bouncing back when it touched a large piece of bone beneath the tight skin. When the "forged servant" stretched out his other arm, one of the guards immediately fell with broken ribs.

The guards surrounded their enemies without having to communicate, though their numbers were more often knocked down by the enemy's devastating punches and kicks. Although the guards only served the lowly residential areas, they had been trained outside the walls of Helmsgarten and fought monsters in the sewers. Of course, they had never seen a person so human-like and yet so strange, and their hesitation led to the death of more than half of the monsters before their heads were cut off with a well-timed swing of their swords.

Just an hour later, many officials from the Adventurers' Guild arrived on the scene, and the guards of the noble district and Newtown were sent to reinforce the nearby barracks and block all river crossings and gates leading to the area.

"It seems that I underestimated the city and its resources," Jacob thought as he stood on the bell tower of a nearby ordinary church. As he put away his binoculars, steam erupted from his scent mask, releasing the stench of nutmeg and pine resin in the wind. It was stolen by him from the windowsill of a nearby fisherman's house, where there was a half-peeled but still clearly legible sign that read "Sibe

St

…… Fishmo

ge…… Ka

l", and the various tools of trade scattered on his porch.

"Who do you think those people with hats and cloaks are?" He handed the telescope to Heskell and asked him. Although he looks like a savage and is not weak in strength, the White Man has enough intelligence to operate tools and a super memory, which makes him the perfect assistant for city navigation, not to mention as a laboratory assistant.

"Adventure Guild."

"What do they do?"

White didn't answer, instead pointing to a building across the river and a gate bridge that led to the sewers and residential areas to the north. Jacob doesn't need a telescope to see it, as it is three stories tall and has four large spires, each decorated with a green flag.

"So, they're some kind of organization?"

Heskel snorted affirmatively.

"Why didn't Grandpa warn me?"

He snorted again, this time disapprovingly.

"You're right. It's certainly part of my training. Grandpa didn't warn me because I needed to learn the hard way. ”

The two of them sat in the bell tower and watched the streets below, watching the commotion caused by the guild and the new shiny guards in the area as they did their best to eradicate other creatures like Callum.

Half a day passed, and it wasn't until the sun passed the zenith that the streets of the residential area regained some of their normal feel, though, by following the gate bridge with a telescope, Jacob could tell that they could not leave this part of town in the traditional way.

They eventually climbed down from the tower and church roof in search of food, as Jacob's stomach began to ache. He was no stranger to this feeling, since one of the trainings his grandfather had was not to let him eat until he completed a certain task, or to be ridiculed by him if he made some mistake, which was his punishment. Still, he felt the need to take care of his body so that his deteriorating condition would not distract him at an inopportune time.

Stronger than him not only physically but also sensually, Heskell easily took them to a large market in the area. Jacob took off his scent mask so he could smell the wind, and he hid it under his bruised-blue apron, where the makeshift blades were placed, and some of the finest materials he had harvested, as well as some strange things he had snatched from the guards the night before.

With his nose drawn, he finally found a stall outside a brick house where food was produced. What was offered was hot bread and thick jam, as well as some hard biscuits that smelled sweet.

Jacob took himself a slice of hot bread and immediately took a bite of it, grabbing a couple of pieces of hard bread and hiding them under his apron. The sweetness of the jam was almost too sweet for him, as he was more accustomed to eating bitter fungi that grew underground, as well as fat and spice-flavored meat from rats that grew too big, and the tasteless corpse powder that served as the basis of his diet.

"Hey! You're going to have to pay for it! A man shouted in crude Novarosian, a language full of explosive and rough articulations.

Jacob looked at Heskel, hoping for an explanation. White walked in front of him and held out an arm to stop the big baker from approaching Jacob. Despite being tall and fat, the baker was still a head lower than Heskell, and the scarred, discolored-looking giant immediately brought him to his feet.

Jacob poked his head out from behind his life jacket and asked the baker, "What do you mean by pay?"

The baker sighed, but then explained. "I don't know where you're from, kid, but we use Novalin here. They come in four different sizes, and the value is printed on the surface of the coin. ”

This made Jacob realize this, and he quickly pulled out a sack from under his apron. The metal inside clanged. As he handed the bloody bag to the man, he stretched out a fleshy paw and pulled out four coins, three of which were small and one of which was slightly larger.

"The loaves are four novalins and the hard breads are two. Since you take a slice of bread and two slices of hard bread, that's eight slices. These are three 1 and one 5 denomination coins. Then he held up the coins, pointed at them, and repeated, "Eight."

Jacob nodded thoughtfully. "What an interesting system," he said to Heskell in Spanish, startling the man in front of him. It's tough language, so it's not surprising that someone from a humble background like a baker will react. The man should have considered it a privilege to hear it told before him, but sadly, its greatness was lost in his simple mind.

His grandfather taught him many things, the least of which was the many languages he could expect in and out of the metropolis. The average Novaloa apparently only speaks their own language, but those of higher status may speak as many as four languages, as they often have to deal with peoples outside their own borders. However, Indic was considered a language that had gone extinct, but the grandfather insisted that he learn it first and make it the core of all other languages because they all have their roots in it. He has been speaking fluently since he was nine years old. By the time he was ten, he was already speaking twelve other languages, which were a piece of cake compared to Kitoni. If learning the languages of this world is like solving puzzles, then Chitun is the handful.

Jacob doesn't think too much about the fact that he has lost his native language. Faced with survival, it seemed like an easy compromise, and he soon learned that adaptation was the most important thing, to endure the lessons of his grandfather.

They wandered around the market and saw many stalls. To Jacob's chagrin, there was no one to deal in the kind of commodity he needed most: demonic blood; bloodsuckle root; Bone; Organ; Slave; Or anything useful. However, there are a lot of rough trinkets out there.

"It's so appropriate," he said bitterly.

Heskel snorted happily.

"The value of this unprocessed metal is higher than what they would have been after the price reduction. Rings, necklaces, earrings, and many other meaningless gadgets. What's the value of these things if they don't have a little magic?"

"Don't blame the brute......" Heskel groaned, as if reciting some kind of poem. But instead of a poem, he recited a phrase that his grandfather used to say.

Although caught off guard by Heskel's chatter, Jacob finished speaking: "...... Because of its bestiality and animality. ”