Being a Villain is My True Calling

“You worthless, miserable ingrates!! I even changed your soiled diapers!!”

The elderly man let out an exasperated sigh.
Prompting a few of the prostrated inmates to mutter faintly:

“But he’s never actually changed our diapers, has he?”
“He’s made us soil ourselves plenty, though.”
“The Boss ain’t exactly a kindly gent.”

Kik, kikikikik!
They briefly snickered amongst themselves.

Bwaak!!

“Guhah!!”

Only to receive a sudden punch from the old man, smashing them violently against the wall.

“You insolent brats!! I ought to flush you all down the toilet!!”

Fwak! Feoreuk! Kwang!!

The elder did not relent, continuing to ruthlessly pummel them one by one.

-…Well, he did scold them sternly, I suppose.
‘One could say that.’

As I observed this brief display, the old man seemed to sense my gaze, turning to face me directly.

“…Heheh, my apologies, dear guest. That was an unsightly spectacle.”

His abrupt shift to a jovial demeanor elicited an instinctive twinge of discomfort within me.
An oddly familiar, yet somewhat ominous, aura…

-Ah! It’s just like when our mom is scolding us, but then your call comes through and she suddenly changes her tone!

Rinring’s supplementary explanation illuminated the source of that familiarity.
Gruff and unrestrained with those he deemed insignificant, yet subtly modulating his manner when addressing unfamiliar or prioritized individuals.

“…? A guest, you say? Could it be your translation device is malfunctioning?”
“Ah, no…no, it’s functioning properly.”

Perplexed by my prolonged silence, the elder inquired further.
I swiftly reassured him to the contrary.

“Heheh, that’s a relief then. Pardon my circumstances, but acquiring such devices proves rather challenging for me, you understand.”

The specifics of how he procured it were hardly relevant.
I lightly brushed the translation earpiece adorning my left ear.

‘Despite wearing an earpiece, it doesn’t quite feel like I am.’

Its presence was nearly imperceptible unless actively engaged.
Moreover, the translated audio did not convey a robotic synthetic voice, but rather, an organic rendition mirroring the original speaker’s inflections.

‘For a translation device, this seems exceptionally well-crafted…’

At the very least, I had yet to encounter commercially available models offering comparable performance.
How he had managed to “procure” such an elusive commodity piqued my curiosity anew, but I opted against pursuing that line of inquiry.

“Sir, shall we proceed to the matter at hand?”

An ill-timed misstep could potentially render me the recipient of such “procurement” methods.

“This amiable demeanor, coupled with your public disciplinary display – you desire something from me, do you not?”

“……”

No benevolence came without an underlying motive.
Especially when dealing with convicts so depraved as to end up incarcerated here, their intentions could hardly be trusted at face value.

‘He is undoubtedly behaving courteously in anticipation of some prospective gain…’

No alternative explanations seemed plausible.

That they had experienced a sudden moral epiphany?

Or perhaps they simply wished to extend goodwill towards Akaoni, a relatively obscure rookie villain?

A mere apology for the earlier misunderstanding?

Any such conjectures strained credulity.
The prospect of currying favor for some exploitable benefit resonated as the likelier truth.

With a sardonic smile, I adopted a nonchalant demeanor.

“Well then, do enlighten me – what is it you desire? Only by stating your request can I determine whether to oblige.”

“Umm…”

My words seemed to give the elder momentary pause.
Just what was he anticipating to warrant such obsequious courtesy?

‘As an outsider, perhaps he intends to request that I smuggle something in from the exterior?’

Or, more befitting villains, he could be soliciting assistance in orchestrating an escape from this very facility.

As I speculated on the nature of his impending request, the old man appeared to reach a decision, addressing me once more.

“I require sustenance and assorted essential provisions.”

“…Pardon?”

Food and daily necessities?
His desires proved far more modest and mundane than I had envisioned.

“Your attire, distinct from a prisoner’s uniform, would suggest you hail from beyond Tartarus’ confines – an outside visitor.”
“…Hmm.”

I ought to maintain an appropriately ambiguous smile.
One conveying tacit acknowledgment, while prompting him to elaborate further.

“Moreover, your earlier firearm’s disappearance implies you possess summoning abilities.”
“So you presumed me to be a smuggler of sorts?”
“The sole legitimate means of opening that iron door belongs to the guards’ keys. Hence, my deduction – you are a sanctioned smuggler, if not an illicit intruder.”

A “sanctioned smuggler”…an amusing notion, albeit not entirely inaccurate.
Yet the underlying need for such services became somewhat apparent.

‘Likely a precaution against potential uprisings.’

While reduced to wretched states here, these individuals had once sowed chaos throughout the world as infamous criminals.

If those who had already wrought pandemonium in the past were to join forces and revolt within this hellish crucible, exacerbated by potential escapes, the consequences could prove catastrophic.

-They employ smugglers to consistently supply limited resources.
Sustaining an endless cycle of conflict over coveted provisions.
The guards would contract smugglers to periodically provision the inmates with goods and sustenance.

‘Simultaneously ensuring their own safety, as well.’

Collectively, my non-prisoner attire, my mistaken summoning abilities (stemming from my still relatively obscure creation powers only unveiled a year prior), and fashioning a key to force entry had fully convinced the old man of my supposed smuggler identity.

‘A potentially exploitable situation?’

If I played along adeptly, this entire endeavor could be resolved without further complications.

“Well, I may be a smuggler of sorts, but I’m a newcomer on this particular run.”
“Ah, I see..! No wonder you seemed an unfamiliar face.”

For now, I proceeded cautiously, aiming to extract more information without arousing suspicion.

‘Feigning prior knowledge risks a potentially fatal misstep. Better to adopt an inquisitive stance and grasp the underlying dynamics first.’

“Everything else is settled, but I do have one lingering query…”

Once I had gleaned sufficient context, I allowed a subtle smirk to emerge beneath my mask.

-Bro, why don’t you ask that old guy about it?
Rinring chimed in via our comm link during this interlude.

“Ah, one moment.”

Excusing myself to the elder, I discreetly conversed with Rinring.

“What did you have in mind?”
-About our primary destination – sublevel 7!
“…So you were unable to uncover a route from here?”
-Unfortunately not…it seems penetrating the security would require at least a day of non-stop efforts…

While I had been engaged in procuring the requested supplies per the old man’s request, I had tasked Rinring with identifying a path from sublevel 6 to our intended destination on 7.

However, the absence of any electronic systems like CCTVs from level 6 onwards, coupled with the excessive security measures surrounding level 7 itself, had impeded her progress within our limited timeframe.

-Our swiftest recourse now would be to solicit assistance from the locals.
“You propose appealing to the old man, then?”
-Precisely.

Indeed, whether he possessed that specific knowledge remained uncertain.
But exploring that possibility seemed more prudent than remaining stranded here indefinitely.

Turning my attention back towards the elder, I posed my inquiry:

“If I may, sir, could I perhaps request a favor in lieu of payment?”
“But of course. If this old-timer can oblige, just say the word.”
“Ah, it’s nothing too demanding.”

Much like I’ve provided you goods, I merely wish to engage in another transaction.

‘One where the recipient happens to bear the moniker of the worst hero, but a transaction nonetheless.’

With a wry smile, I began outlining my proposal to the old man.