I'm the Crazy One in the Family-Chapter 66: It’s Right in Front of You (3)

“It’s been four days since I’ve seen you, Keter. Did you go underground?”

The old man handed Keter a wooden cup without even asking for payment. Even the water was different: it was much cleaner, and it even had ice.

Keter drank half of the water and threw the cup on the ground.

Then, he said, “Give me another cup, better than what I just got.”

“O-of course.”

The old man handed him another wooden cup, and Keter gave it to Luke.

“Here, have a sip.”

“... Phew.”

The old man groveled at Luke.

“I apologize, sir. My old eyes are rotten, and I failed to recognize such a noble person.”

Luke didn’t feel appeased, just utterly drained.

Is that an apology? No, that’s submission. How can someone change their stance so quickly?

Setting that aside, Luke felt parched enough to focus on drinking water first. But something was off. His misfortune detector was reacting intensely.

What’s happening?

Luke examined the water. It was just ordinary water, identical to what Keter had drunk. Yet, his misfortune detector had triggered, and he trusted this ability completely.

“You drink this first.”

The old man looked flustered and turned to Keter.

Keter, taking the wooden cup from Luke, said, “You’re immune to this stuff, huh? I guess you have complete resistance to consuming poison.”

“Don’t tell me...”

“Hey, bring the real water.”

Keter drank from Luke’s cup.

At that moment, the old man’s eyes widened.

“It’s laced with a powerful sedative that could knock out an ogre...”

“That’s not enough to fix my insomnia.”

Fresh, real water was handed to Luke. This time, his misfortune detector remained quiet. It was genuine water.

“You tested me on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Just a little lesson not to trust anyone in Liqueur.”

Luke was about to drink the water absentmindedly but suddenly shivered with unease.

Did I ever tell Keter about my ability?

Luke was certain he never told Keter about it, but he was talking about it as if he knew already.

“You’re not going to drink it?” Keter asked.

“I am.”

Luke decided to quench his thirst first. Meanwhile, Keter kicked over the old man’s stall and barked, “Hey, hand over the money he gave you.”

"Here it is, sir."

The old man placed the single silver coin Luke had paid into Keter’s palm.

Keter instantly frowned.

"You think I'm an idiot? Luke only gave you one silver? You sure about that?"

"Y-yes, it was one silver, exactly."

"Hah, that can't be right. It wasn’t silver. Did I see it wrong? Am I blind?"

"N-no, sir! My mistake. I must have been confused for a moment."

The old man swapped the silver coin for a gold one. Only then did Keter withdraw his hand.

"Watch yourself."

Tap.

Keter lightly tapped the vendor's glass window with his finger. A loud crack echoed as a web of fractures spread across the entire pane. The old man, initially shocked, was now on the verge of tears.

The glass that protected the old man’s vendor wasn’t ordinary—it was reinforced with magic. It was a very expensive glass that could reflect both physical and magical attacks. And yet Keter had nearly shattered it with a mere flick of his finger.

If he was angry, all he had to do was curse at Keter and fight him, but that was impossible because it was Keter. In Liqueur, power was the law. Being weak was a crime, and those who couldn’t read the room met with no sympathy even in death. Keter embodied this truth perfectly.

Everyone walking toward Keter’s direction instinctively moved aside, creating a wide space around him, as if an invisible barrier protected him. Even those unfamiliar with him followed suit, mimicking the wary actions of others.

Luke was walking behind Keter, so he could see this clearly.

"Keter, what exactly are you in Liqueur?"

"An angel, obviously. Handsome too."

"I think you mean a devil..."

Keter suddenly grabbed the arm of someone passing by.

"Hey, am I an angel or the devil?"

The man he grabbed was a huge brute with a menacing face. Yet, even he hesitated, eyes darting nervously as he deliberated.

Keter leaned in and whispered a hint.

“The answer is in my appearance.”

“... Y-you are the devil.”

Voosh!

Keter punched the man straight in the abdomen. He collapsed to his knees and fell forward.

“See? Look how angelic I am,” Keter said to Luke.

“Because you didn’t kill him...?”

“That guy was suffering from severe constipation, and I got rid of it for him.”

“...”

Luke didn’t respond and just started walking faster.

* * *

It took about ten minutes for Keter and Luke to arrive at the weapons shop for some bows and arrows, but Luke was already worn out.

Even climbing a cliff from the bottom wouldn’t be this exhausting.

“I can’t believe you lived in a place like this for eighteen years.”

What Luke witnessed on the way here was absolute hell. Liqueur was filled with pure anger that was free of malice or purpose. People fought wherever and whenever, and it wasn’t just a fist fight—people fought with weapons to kill each other. It was no different for children either; in fact, they were so bold that they tried to pickpocket Luke, who was walking right behind Keter. Of course, Luke’s misfortune detector stopped that from happening.

The most shocking thing was the corpses on the street. At first, Luke thought they were just homeless people, but they weren’t. It was his fault for looking at them so closely. Luke was a knight, but he had never been in a real battle; the horrifying corpses were enough to shake him.

I get why Keter lives so high up. He would probably go insane if this was what he saw all the time.

It was the middle of the day, but the sunlight didn’t reach them because of the dense fog and the buildings covering the sky.

I wouldn’t be able to live in this place even for a day.

Luke didn’t need firsthand experience to understand. This place was the wild forest—a first teeming with monsters, except these monsters appeared human.

When they arrived at the weapon shop, Luke let out a sigh. In most weapon shops, items would be displayed on the walls for customers to browse freely. Here, metal bars blocked the way, and the weapons hung beyond them, completely out of reach. It was clear that they were just supposed to look, not touch.

Still, the variety of weapons was impressive. Bows, however, were the least represented.

"These are all secondhand."

Though they appeared new, it was only because they’d been polished. Luke’s keen eye noticed the signs of use. No matter how generously he judged, the quality was poor—bottom tier at best.

"Two bows. Thirty arrows," Keter said to the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper disappeared through a back door and returned with bows and arrows that weren’t on display. They were in better condition than the ones on the wall, though still secondhand, mid-tier at best.

As a Sefira knight, Luke was accustomed to being supplied with only the finest bows, so he could recognize the difference immediately.

Luke took the bow Keter handed him. He didn’t even need to test it. It was terrible.

"This feels like it’ll snap any second. And the feathers of the arrows are in bad shape as well,” Luke said honestly.

Keter raised three fingers.

"Lesson three: Even among the worst, the best exists."

"Fine, I won’t complain."

But that wasn’t the point Keter was trying to make. Most teachers emphasized self-discovery when guiding their students, often leaving hidden lessons unsaid. Keter, however, was different.

He immediately scolded Luke, saying, "Idiot. You think I’m just nagging? If you’re unhappy with the bow, then either find a better one or figure out how to make this one work. What, are you going to die the moment it breaks? Instead of whining, think about what to do if it breaks."

"Oh... oh!"

Luke quickly understood after Keter’s criticism, and he felt embarrassed. He realized he had been growing arrogant without even noticing because of his special abilities. He had unconsciously begun to rely on them too much, even though he didn't know how to use them properly. He had also become relaxed, feeling that he wouldn’t get in danger since Keter was by his side.

"Keter, I think it’s better if I use my funds to get a higher-quality bow."

"Then go look for one."

"You’re not coming with me?"

"You’re the one who needs a bow, not me."

“Well... You’re right, but...”

Aren’t we friends?

That’s what Luke wanted to say.

If we’re friends, you could look out for me.

Though Luke didn’t voice his disappointment, it was written all over his face.

Seeing that, Keter added, “Stop relying on other people. If you want to do it, do it.”

“What about the aftermath?”

“You’re the one who shit yourself. Why should someone else have to clean it up?”

It was a dirty expression, but Luke understood what Keter meant.

“You’re saying that if I want to get a better bow, I have to get it alone without you and also come find you myself.”

“If you don’t think you can do that, you just use the one that you got.”

“I see. Thanks.”

“It’s not free. It’s all piling up.”

“Still, thanks.”

Luke decided to follow Keter’s advice. Rather than venturing alone into the unknown world of Liqueur to find a better bow, he decided to make the most of the one he had.

With the bow and arrows in hand, Keter began walking again without a word. Only then did Luke remember their original goal: they were on their way to the territory of the Red-Eyed Gang to find Gyro, Keter’s subordinate.

“What kind of people are the Red-Eyed Gang?” Luke asked.

“I was wondering when you would ask.”

Keter began by explaining the Four Lunatics of Liqueur.

“There’s the sword maniac, the eye maniac, the bomb maniac, and just a plain crazy bitch. The eye maniac is a guy named Maran, and the Red-Eyed Gang are his followers.”

“I get the rest, but... what does it mean to be an eye maniac?”

“He’s like you—an ability user. He can swap out his eyes with others as if they were his own, and he gains the memories and abilities of the eye’s original owner.”

“... So, you knew I was an ability user, huh?”

“Knew it the moment I saw you.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it or anything. Just... things have been hectic.”

“If you have nothing to be ashamed of, don’t apologize.”

“Got it.”

Luke hesitated for a moment before looking at Keter.

“Keter, you’re not an elf by any chance, are you?”

“Just because I’m good-looking doesn’t mean I’m an elf.”

“That’s not it. It’s just... When I look at you, I think of Lord Besil or the commander of the Order of the Galaxy. I don’t know if it’s the amount of experience or expertise, but it feels like everything you say comes from firsthand knowledge.”

“That’s because it does.”

“...I think I want the ability to detect lies now.”

“Kid, I don’t lie. You know why?”

“Because trust is important?”

“Wrong. It’s because I don’t lie in order to lie later.”

“...What?”

Luke couldn’t comprehend the statement. Usually, Keter would provide some clarification, but this time he didn’t bother, letting it pass without further explanation.

“Maran can do more than just swap eyes. He can also awaken the latent powers of an eye. The Red-Eyed Gang are those whose eyes have been awakened by Maran.”

“What kind of power are we talking about? Better vision?”

“Yeah, at the level of a Sefira knight. But that’s just a side benefit. The real ability is enhanced dynamic vision, also at a knight’s level.”

“Maran can give that ability to just anyone?”

“He can, but it comes with a price. Every ability has a cost, including yours. For those awakened by Maran, they usually lose their vision completely within a year.”

“They go blind...? Then he probably doesn’t have many followers.”

“Wrong. He’s got the most out of all the lunatics. People literally beg to become his followers.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Are they tricked into it? Do they not know they’ll go blind?”

“If they lose their sight, they can just bring him someone else’s eyes, and Maran will attach them. Of course, the success rate isn’t great—most die during the process.”

Luke couldn’t wrap his head around the mindset of the people in Liqueur.

No matter how badly someone might want to gain power, it was only for a year. After that, they would go blind, and even if they brought another person’s eyes, the odds of survival were slim. And yet, they begged to serve as his subordinates?

These people aren’t normal. Is it because they live in Liqueur, or do people like them end up coming here?

It was natural for Luke, who hadn’t entered Liqueur through the usual means, to not understand.

Other cities had towering walls and guarded checkpoints, but Liqueur didn’t have any of that. It was wide open. There was no gate—people could just walk in if they wanted to.

However, from the moment they entered, it was up to them to survive. If they failed to protect themselves, they would end up being sold as fresh meat in some restaurants.

As Luke followed Keter, he suddenly felt a chilling gaze. He turned toward where the feeling came from. There, on a wall, was a sinister painting of a red eye. It almost felt like it was staring directly at him.

Luke could tell, even if Keter didn’t point it out.

“We’re inside the Red-Eyed Gang’s territory, aren’t we?”

Keter didn’t reply and just kept walking.

The red eye paintings grew more frequent, and before long, the streets became eerily quiet, with barely a soul in sight.

Luke nocked an arrow to his bowstring and whispered to Keter, “Keter, from here on, let’s move quietly. This place is full of cover and obstacles, which isn’t a great environment for an archer to fight. There’s no need to battle in a spot that puts us at a disadvantage.”

“I guess that’s right...”

“Right.”

“... Right enough to get you punched.”

“...?!”

Keter took a deep breath, then shouted at the top of his lungs, “Rise and shine! You’ve got guests, you bastards!”