EVOLVING MY UNDEAD LEGION IN A GAME-LIKE WORLD

The world was really a small place.

Michael felt this held true even in a realm as unique as the Land of Origin.

“It’s you guys?” He almost blurted out.

He wasn’t sure which of the two standing before him had spoken, but he recognized them instantly.

More than their appearance, it was their presence that gave them away.

They were the same two who had been following him ever since he first left the inner city.

One was short, the other taller, and the latter stared at Michael with undisguised hatred in their eyes.

Their body structure also suggested they were young.

They might have thought they were well-disguised, covering their faces with black pieces of cloth, but presence didn’t lie.

Michael, however, wasn’t about to reveal that he had seen through them.

Instead, he regarded them with interest.

“What did you say?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

He had heard them perfectly well, but there was no harm in drawing the conversation out a little.

Though outwardly calm, Michael couldn’t deny a sense of amusement creeping in.

He had just been lamenting his lack of a guide—wasn’t this a perfect opportunity?

One of them clearly had killing intent toward him. If they happened to disappear for a few days, who would notice?

Michael first thought wasn’t about killing anybody, but he wasn’t the type to ignore threats either.

If someone had the intention to harm him, he had no reason to let it slide.

The taller youth stepped forward, his movements sharp and aggressive. “You must think you’re clever, huh?” His voice dripped with hostility. “Wandering around like you own the place.”

Michael arched a brow.

“I don’t recall doing anything of the sort.”

“Don’t play dumb!” The youth spat, his hand twitching toward his waist.

“I know your type—arrogant bastards who do whatever they want and get away with it.” His eyes flashed with anger, his breathing slightly erratic.

Michael’s gaze flickered toward the shorter one, who was eyeing his companion with mild concern in his eyes.

“Enough,” the shorter youth muttered, reaching out to grab his friend’s arm. “We didn’t come here for that.”

The taller one scoffed. “I know! But I can’t stand looking at his smug face.”

Michael smiled slightly. “Smug, huh? I don’t think I’ve done anything to offend you.”

The taller youth narrowed his eyes. “Like hell you haven’t. But whatever. I’m not here to deal with you over that.” He suddenly smirked. Michael couldn’t see it behind the mask but it felt like the youth had one as he spoke again.

“I just want your valuables.”

Michael blinked. “Ah. So it’s a robbery, then?”

The shorter one sighed as if tired of the whole situation. “It’s not personal. Just hand over what you have, and we’ll let you go.”

Michael chuckled. “And if I refuse?”

The taller youth sneered. “Then I’ll make you.”

In a flash, he drew a knife from his waist.

Michael’s expression didn’t change, but inwardly, he was slightly surprised.

The shorter one tensed. “Hey—there’s no need for that. Just stick to the plan.”

Michael tilted his head, glancing at the blade. “Interesting. Do you always bring a weapon when you mug people?”

The taller one ignored him. “Enough talking. Move.”

Michael inwardly sighed.

‘What manner of place have I found myself in?’

Noble this, noble that. It was always about nobles. And judging by the reactions of the general populace, they didn’t seem to have the best reputation.

First, there was the drunkard at the Hunter’s Guild.

Now, these two youths in disguise, well one of them, was barely able to contain his hostility toward him.

He hadn’t done anything, yet his resentment ran deep.

Michael hadn’t introduced himself as a noble. Hell, he wasn’t one.

But to people like them, it didn’t matter.

The way he carried himself, his appearance ,his clothing, his calm demeanor—maybe that was enough to make them assume he was just another privileged bastard who needed to be put in his place.

He had to wonder. Was the hatred toward nobles justified, or was it just blind prejudice?

Either way, it wasn’t his problem.

He had already accepted this identity and also didn’t want to discard it.

Michael exhaled slowly, watching the taller youth with an amused gaze.

The boy’s hand was steady on the knife, but his breathing wasn’t. He was angry, tense and from Michael’s senses, he seemed panicked.

The shorter one, though—he was scared. Michael felt nothing but feelings like anxiousness, panic and fear from the other party.

Michael didn’t resist and let them lead him deeper into the slums. There was no need.

If they thought he was just another easy mark, he would let them keep thinking that.

For now.

Behind Michael, the two boys felt a storm of emotions—some different, some the same.

One thing they both shared, however, was panic.

It wasn’t just anyone they were robbing—it was a noble.

Even the taller boy, who despised nobles with every fiber of his being, wasn’t blind to the risk. If things went wrong, they wouldn’t just be hunted down—they would disappear, and no one would dare ask where they had gone.

That was why they had taken precautions. Covering their faces was just the first step. Leading Michael deeper into the slums was the real plan.

In a lawless place like this, anything could happen.

Even now, as they forced him further inside, the people who saw what was happening quickly turned away and ran—not out of fear of them but out of fear of the noble.

Nobody wanted to be a witness. Nobody wanted to get involved.

In a world where status dictated life and death, offending a noble could be a death sentence.

That was why they had been careful not to stop him too close to the slums’ exit. If they robbed him there and he got his people, their chances of hiding their tracks could plummet.

Here, though?

Here, he had no allies.

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