is it wrong to try to build a criminal Empire?

"I'm done," said Hestia, her voice cheerful as ever as she handed All For One his status update.

The surroundings were no longer the dimly lit basement of the abandoned church. Instead, they now sat in a modest but sturdy two-room apartment. The walls were bare but clean, the furniture sparse but serviceable. A far cry from grandeur, but it provided a sense of security that the church could not.

After his "competitors" decided to include Hestia in their little game at the Banquet of the Gods, All For One had deemed the abandoned church far too exposed for his liking.

He had "convinced" Hestia to relocate here, if only temporarily, until he could secure a proper official headquarters for the familia.

Sitting up from the couch in the living room, he took the sheet of paper from her outstretched hand. His sharp eyes scanned the numbers and words that represented his progress.

Since his first venture into the 11th and 12th floors three days ago, his growth had accelerated. The stronger monsters there made earning Excelia much faster.

---

Bell Cranel: Level 1 Adventurer

Strength: 258 → 264 G

Endurance: 127 → 134 H

Dexterity: 120 → 125 H

Agility: 193 → 201 G

Magic: 140 → 150 H

Skills:

All For One, Feral Clarity, Durak'gor

Magic:

Fireball, Raijin, Hellhound X5

---

Slow.

The word echoed in his mind, reverberating with quiet disdain.

His displeasure was subtle but present, a shadow across his features. Hestia, ever observant of her child, noticed the faint shift in his expression.

"What's bothering you, Bell?" she asked, her tone gentle, almost coaxing. "This update is very promising. You even reached G in your agility!" She smiled at him, trying to sound encouraging, but her words felt hollow to him.

She didn't understand. She couldn't. Adventurers who advanced at his pace were hailed as prodigies—objects of envy to some. But Bell seemed displeased with being merely exceptional.

His expectations were far beyond what a normal adventurer wanted—unattainable, even.

All For One clenched the paper slightly, his mind turning inward. Even with upgraded equipment and Welf's support, he couldn't push deeper without risking his life.

The middle floors were his target, with the Hellhounds as his primary objective for now. If he could reach them, his arsenal would become endless.

Yet, such ambition was out of reach for now.

But his current obstacles were nothing more than temporary barriers to his plans—barriers that demanded to be breached.

"Perhaps a bigger party?" he muttered aloud, his voice low and measured, the words spoken more to himself. The idea of additional numbers was appealing. More bodies meant an easier time dealing with large groups of monsters.

Hestia caught the remark, her eyebrows lifting slightly. "A party?" she murmured under her breath, her curiosity piqued. Was Bell considering expanding his circle?

Her gaze lingered on him as he fell silent again, his thoughtful expression distant. He'd been zoning out like this more often, and while it concerned her, she couldn't deny that seeing him so focused was… endearing in its own way. She smiled softly, though the worry in her eyes didn't fade.

Meanwhile, All For One's mind continued to race. Forming a bigger party would mitigate the risks of the middle floors, but it would also bring complications. Strangers were liabilities—unpredictable, inquisitive liabilities. They would pry, question, and interfere. He couldn't allow that.

With a quiet sigh, he rose from the couch. "I have business for the night," he said curtly, brushing past Hestia and striding toward the door without looking back.

She watched as he disappeared through the door to heaven knows where.

He was pushing himself too hard. Each day he seemed to carry more weight, more intensity. She knew he was relentless, but even relentless people had limits.

His hunger for progress had grown even more intense since the festival...

To think his skill could even steal monsters' magic. If she weren't absolutely certain he was telling the truth, she would have never believed it.

As much as she wanted to, Hestia couldn't stop him. How could she? Not when Bell-kun—her precious child—was a target. There were eyes on him—evil, dangerous eyes. If she held him back, it could cost him his life.

"Bell-kun, you really are a headache," she muttered under her breath, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection.

She exhaled deeply and stood, brushing off her concerns for the moment. Dwelling on them wouldn't change anything.

She too had a place to attend tonight.

She straightened her dress and prepared to leave, her thoughts lingering on Bell even as she headed out the door.

---

"Naaza," Miach called to his only child, his voice soft.

Naaza, having just finished filling the last vial of healing potions for tomorrow's sales, perked up. She tilted her head curiously, much like a puppy, her ears almost seeming to twitch with attention.

Miach couldn't help but smile at the sight. Watching her work so diligently filled him with pride. Naaza seemed content, finding peace in her craft.

With business picking up recently and their earnings inexplicably doubling, Naaza was starting to shine in her own quiet way, certainly happy with the extra profit.

He hadn't seen her like this in so long. Not since that horrible incident…

Miach stopped himself, shoving the memory aside with practiced resolve. There was no need to linger on the past.

"I'm heading out with some friends," he said, walking toward the shop's exit. His tone was casual, but the warmth in his voice was unmistakable. "You can finish up with those potions and close the shop for the day. You've earned some rest," he added, offering her a soft smile.

Naaza returned his smile faintly, her tail wagging slightly. "Okay," she replied simply, her voice quiet but steady.

Satisfied, Miach turned and left, the door closing with a soft click behind him. The faint echo of Naaza's agreement lingered in his ears, and his smile grew just a bit more.

For a moment, Naaza stood there, staring at the door, her expression unreadable. She waited, unmoving, her ears subtly twitching as if ensuring Miach was truly gone.

When she was certain he wouldn't return, she moved. Efficiently, she placed the freshly brewed potions onto the display stand and then secured the door, locking up for the night.

She made her way into the back room, where all the tools and ingredients were kept.

Her cold, soulless prosthetic right hand hovered over the neat shelves of available ingredients, then she began gathering a selection, her choices seeming almost random.

A small magic stone.

Powdered Papilio wings, shimmering faintly.

An Almiraj horn, smooth and curved.

Silvervine, a plant with euphoric properties but notorious for its addictive nature.

Dungeon mushrooms, nutrient-rich with the curious effect of dulling one's awareness of pain.

She examined the ingredients carefully—something was missing.

Ah, yes, that one.

Reaching into her personal bag, she retrieved a bundle of carefully wrapped roots and placed them alongside the other ingredients.

The roots of the nervilus tree, native to the Kaios Desert, had a dark red hue that gave them a distinctly sinister appearance.

Her sponsor had managed to secure some for her to use.

Naaza laid all the ingredients on the workbench, her sharp eyes inspecting each one carefully. What she was about to make was... less than legal.

"Sorry, but I need to do this, Miach-sama," she muttered, a note of guilt lacing her voice. But it didn't linger. She shoved the feeling aside. "I'll do anything to pay off that debt."

She had to see this through.

---

"Hestia! Over here!" Takemikazuchi waved enthusiastically toward his friend as she entered the cozy tavern they had chosen for their night out.

Hestia spotted him and smiled, her mood lifting at the sight of a familiar face. As she approached, she noticed the others were already seated.

Hephaestus was sipping on a drink, her signature eyepatch giving her a serious air even in casual settings, while Miach was nibbling on a small plate of fried potatoes.

Hestia made a mental note—she'd definitely order some for herself.

Reaching the table, she slid into the empty seat. The sight of four gods at one table was not exactly common in the mortal realm.

"Everyone! How come you got here before me?!" she pouted, her voice playful but carrying a hint of genuine indignation. She had been sure she'd beat them all here.

Hephaestus, setting her drink down, met her gaze with a blank expression. "By arriving early. You know, we're not lazy like some people," she said, her tone calm but edged with teasing.

Poor Hestia deflated on the spot. "I'm not lazy!" she shot back, leaning forward in her seat. "I work just as hard as everyone else!"

Hephaestus raised an eyebrow. "Really? Should we revisit your first days in the mortal realm?"

Hestia stiffened. "Hey! I was new, and you were being way too pushy!" she argued, her cheeks puffing indignantly. "Besides, some of us have to take time to uphold their feminine image."

That struck a nerve. Hephaestus's visible eye twitched ever so slightly. "Oh? Do you now?" Her voice was low, calm, and just a bit menacing.

Miach and Takemikazuchi tried to hide their amusement at the growing tension. Watching the two goddesses bicker like old friends was refreshing.

"Now, now," Miach interjected, his voice soothing. "We're here to catch up, not start a fight." His gentle words seemed to calm the atmosphere.

"Exactly!" Takemikazuchi chimed in, nodding in agreement. "I'm curious about how your Familias are doing," he said, directing a glance at Hestia.

He had heard from Hephaestus that Hestia got a child of her own and was curious about the type of person he might be. Tonight, he would get his answer.

"Let's take turns," Miach suggested, leaning back in his chair. "I'll go first. Naaza and I have been doing quite well lately," he said, launching into a spirited account of their recent successes in the pharmacy.

Hestia listened as her friends took turns sharing updates about their Familias and stories. Each one was... normal.

Hestia tried not to sigh. Compared to her Bell-kun, everything they talked about seemed so... ordinary.

But maybe she was overthinking things.

---

Naaza carefully inspected the bluish paste before her, its faint shine catching the dim light of the workshop. The powdered blue papilio wings gave it that unique radiant color—almost mesmerizing, if not for the sinister purpose it served.

To think she'd agreed to this...

The money had been substantial, enough to make paying that damn debt easier and faster. But the weight of what she was doing made her stomach churn.

With a steady hand, she picked up a small spoon and scooped out a portion of the paste, her movements precise. She transferred it into a wooden pill mold—a frame they usually reserved for crafting medication for the elderly or children.

Blue Bliss.

That's what they were calling it, at least this version of it.

A drug that could supposedly double your strength, which wasn't entirely a lie. She had made it, after all, and she was well aware that there was no real bliss in it—only slow, inevitable suffering, thanks to the many addictive, euphoric ingredients she had mixed into it.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she filled the last slot in the mold, smoothing the paste with practiced ease. Once the mixture dried and hardened, the pills would be ready for consumption.

Naaza set the wooden frame aside, letting it rest on the workbench to air-dry. She sighed heavily, the sound filling the quiet room.

"It should be ready in an hour," she muttered under her breath. Her tone was resigned, but her words carried an undertone of guilt.

Her eyes drifted to the bundle of dried nervilus roots resting on the table. The gnarled pieces seemed almost accusatory as they sat there.

Naaza scowled. She needed to get rid of those. Nervilus roots were illegal to use in any pharmacist's work, and for good reason—its extracts wreaked havoc on the nervous system.

It is said to give you "nerves of steel." While not entirely wrong, it also weakens the nerves each time the person consumes them, to the point where they could lose all sensation entirely.

But her special pills avoided that pitfall. The blue papilio provided regenerative properties to repair any damage or strain on the nerves, while the mushrooms and almiraj horn supplied essential nutrients for the body. The mushrooms' unique properties also significantly reduced pain trauma.

A marked improvement over the standard version being sold in the illegal market—or so her sponsor claimed.

Still, her version, while safer, was also far more euphoric—and more addictive.

She picked up the roots and, without hesitation, threw them into the fireplace. The flames licked hungrily at the dried wood, devouring it until there was nothing left but ash. Any trace of evidence was gone.

Naaza turned her attention to the very messy workbench. She grabbed a rag and began wiping it down, meticulously cleaning every surface. She scrubbed away every speck of blue paste, every trace of powder, ensuring that no one—especially Miach-sama—could guess what had transpired here.

As she worked, she murmured softly to herself, her voice a mix of justification and guilt. "This isn't a crime. I don't force it on anyone... They choose to take it."

The words sounded hollow, even to her own ears.

What a mess she'd gotten herself into. To think she would use Miach-sama's teachings to create something so vile.

But she had no choice. It was necessary.

—

The dim light of the magic stone lanterns faintly illuminated the empty streets, casting long, flickering shadows across the cobblestones. The hour was far too late for any civilian activity, though even during the day, this particular part of Orario wasn't a place one walked freely without caution.

All For One strode through the darkness with purpose. His expression was grim, a deep scowl etched onto his face, reflecting his simmering frustration.

The slow progress was grating on his nerves. Time and time again, he found himself forced to pause and reevaluate his plans, hindered by the limits of this weak, unimpressive body. The lack of strength was the single most infuriating obstacle he faced, a constant reminder of how low he had fallen.

Even so, he wasn't about to let that stop him. He had chosen to move forward with one particular plan.

He finally had the opportunity to visit the warehouse Canoe had so obediently informed him about—after losing his tail, of course.

It was time to put the information to good use.

A slow smile tugged at his lips as he thought of the gang inside. He was looking forward to "negotiating" with them.

---

"—He was using an axe instead of a hammer, can you believe that!?" Hephaestus exclaimed, her tone revealing she was a little drunk—but not drunk enough to lose control.

Unlike some people.

"Come on, Hep, all you do is talk about weapons," Hestia slurred, already on her fifth drink. Her tone was a mixture of boredom and annoyance at yet another tale of inexperienced children mishandling tools.

The other three gods at the table exchanged glances, silently questioning how all that alcohol fit into such a small frame.

Hephaestus looked slightly offended, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "I-I'll talk about whatever I want," she stammered, her usual serious demeanor long faded. Then she pointed at Hestia. "Besides, what about you? You haven't exactly talked much about your child."

Miach perked up at the mention of Bell. "Bell? He came today for mind potions. What does he need all those for?" he asked, his voice tinged with slight worry for the white-haired adventurer.

Takemikazuchi, curious, leaned forward slightly. "Would you tell us a little about what kind of person Bell is? I must admit, I'm curious to know more about your new child, Hestia." Setting his drink down carefully, he turned his full attention to her.

Hestia blinked, slightly puzzled by their interest, before a fond smile broke out on her face. If they wanted to hear about Bell, she was more than happy to indulge them.

"Well," she began, her voice still heavy but brimming with pride. Her sudden cheerfulness captured the attention of the three gods.

"Bell-kun is a very talented child!" she exclaimed, waving her drink enthusiastically.

---

The warehouse was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wooden crates and the faint rustle of rats scurrying between the shadows.

"What's that sound?" one gang member muttered, straining to hear over the eerie stillness. His fingers twitched toward the hilt of his dagger.

"Rats," his companion replied with a scoff, leaning lazily against a crate.

Before the first man could retort, a roar of fire filled the air. The second gang member barely had time to turn before blue flames erupted over his head. His body hit the ground with a dull thud, smoke curling upward in lazy spirals.

The first man's eyes widened in terror, his breath hitching. "What the—?" His voice cut off as a fiery streak zipped toward him. The heat was suffocating, his vocal cords burning before he could even scream.

Perched high above on the warehouse's towering shelves, All For One lowered his hand, the fire in his palm flickering out. His face was neutral.

---

Hestia beamed at the table, the three gods waiting for her to continue.

"Uhh, is that it?" Takemikazuchi asked, his curiosity not yet satisfied.

Hestia giggled drunkenly. "Of course not!" She took another swig from her drink, slamming the empty mug down with a loud hiccup. "Bell-kun is gentle!" she declared, waving her hands in excitement.

---

"Help!" a desperate voice called out, the panicked scream slicing through the warehouse like a blade.

The plea was silenced as All For One's foot connected with the speaker's head. The force sent it snapping back, the body crumpling in a grotesque heap. Blood sprayed the floor, pooling around the lifeless form.

The remaining members froze, their courage shattered. They exchanged horrified glances, the weight of death pressing down on them.

All For One tilted his head, watching them like a predator amused by its prey. His blue flames manifested at his fingertips as he waited for their next move.

---

"Bell-kun is very smart!" Hestia added enthusiastically, her excitement only growing. She practically glowed as she boasted about her child.

---

"Get him!" one of the gang members yelled, his voice thick with panic.

The remaining men surged forward, desperation fueling their reckless charge. All For One moved between them like the wind, his small, agile frame a blur. His flaming palm slammed into a man's chest, launching him into a stack of crates with a sickening crash.

His gaze flicked upward, his heightened perception catching the ropes holding a massive crate of blades suspended above the chaos. A flick of his fingers sent a streak of fire slicing through the ropes with deadly precision.

"Bastard!" another gang member lunged at him, his blade arcing down too fast for easy evasion.

All For One pivoted smoothly, his left hand darting to the green gauntlet at his right arm. In one fluid motion, he drew his new knife and deflected the strike, redirecting it with a screech of angry steel. He followed up with a savage headbutt, the crunch of shattering bone signaling the man's broken nose.

He immediately leaped back, ensuring he stayed clear of the cascading blades.

"Look out!" one of the men shouted, but the warning was swallowed by the deafening crash of metal.

The crate shattered on impact, sending a hailstorm of sharp steel raining down. The screams of the unlucky few caught beneath it were brief, drowned out by the grinding clash of blades against the stone floor. Blood splattered across the room, pooling beneath the pile of twisted bodies.

Silence descended, broken only by the faint drip of blood. All For One's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he surveyed the carnage, his amusement unmistakable.

---

"Bell-kun is also forgiving!" Hestia declared, taking another swig.

---

The last gang member staggered back, his hands trembling. "P-please… mercy…" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

All For One glanced at his own blood-soaked hands, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "What a mess," he muttered, his tone dispassionate. He extended his hand, flames roaring to life once more.

The man's scream was brief, swallowed by the inferno. The warehouse fell silent, the air thick with the stench of charred flesh and blood.

—

Hestia set her mug down with a pleased sigh. "Ah~ that hit the spot!"

Takemikazuchi smiled faintly. "He does sound like an... interesting person," he commented, intrigued by her enthusiastic description.

"Of course!" Hestia exclaimed with drunken enthusiasm. "My child is the most interesting person in this century! Hahaha!"

The three gods exchanged concerned glances. Perhaps she'd had a bit too much to drink.

"H-Hey, how about slowing it down a little, Hestia?" Hephaestus suggested, a little concerned. At this rate, Hestia would pass out, and Hephaestus wasn't particularly in the mood to carry her all the way home.

"Bgha! I'll be fine!" Hestia waved off her friend's worries with exaggerated enthusiasm. She puffed up her chest, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "I can handle at least five more drinks before things get messy!"

Hephaestus rolled her eyes but didn't push the matter. Hestia had always been stubborn, and seemingly even more so when drunk.

Hestia suddenly paused, her expression shifting to one of drunken contemplation. "What was it that Bell-kun was talking about earlier?" she mumbled to herself, tapping her chin with her finger. "A party? Is it someone's birthday?" Her hazy thoughts struggled to piece together their earlier conversation.

Oh yes! An adventuring party!

Turning to Takemikazuchi, her energy noticeably dimmed but still present, she asked lazily, "Your Familia… they're preparing for the middle floors, right?"

Takemikazuchi nodded, his expression becoming serious. "Yes, but they're not ready yet. The middle floors are extremely dangerous. Even a single mistake can cost lives."

Hestia's lips curved into a sly smile. "Perfect!" she exclaimed, a glint in her eyes. "Would it be okay for Bell-kun to join your Familia for a few dives?" She leaned forward eagerly, her words slurred but her intentions clear. She wanted to help her beloved child, and what's better than a surprise?

Takemikazuchi blinked, startled by the suggestion. He glanced nervously at her, clearly uneasy with the idea. "Isn't he a fresh Level One?" he asked carefully. His voice carried genuine concern—sending a rookie to the middle floors was practically a death sentence.

Before Hestia could defend her proposal, Hephaestus stepped in with a reassuring chuckle. "Don't worry, Takemikazuchi. That rabbit carries a strong bite," she said, her tone amused. "He might look like an innocent little rabbit, but from what my child told me, he's more like a vicious wolf in disguise."

Takemikazuchi hesitated, still unsure, but Hephaestus's words made him more at ease. "Well," he said finally, giving Hestia a cautious look, "if he can handle it, I don't see the problem." He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. Though internally, he was already contemplating how to break this unexpected news to his children.

Before he could think further, Hephaestus added with a playful smirk, "Oh, and one of my children is with him. You'll have two new members joining your little expedition."

Takemikazuchi's face immediately soured. "Two?" he muttered, his tone dry. Convincing his Familia to accept one outsider was already a challenge; adding another would make things trickier.

Hestia grinned triumphantly and reached for her mug, only to find it gone. Her expression fell as she scanned the table, confused.

"I think you've had enough for tonight," Miach said gently, holding her drink out of reach, clearly having taken advantage of her momentary distraction. "You wouldn't want to end up sleeping here, would you?"

Hestia groaned, letting her head fall onto the table with a dramatic thud. She was far too lazy to wrestle her drink back from Miach now, her limbs already starting to feel heavy.

At least she'd secured Bell-kun a party. That was what mattered most.

---

All For One stood amidst the wreckage of the warehouse, his gaze cold and calculated as he surveyed the carnage. The bodies strewn around him were pitiful even by the standards of Level Ones. Weaklings, their resistance a mockery of combat.

Stepping over the corpses with an air of indifference, he paused by one. A bare back met his gaze—no Familia insignia. Either this one was unaffiliated or had their status locked. Neither explanation mattered much. They were dead all the same.

The acrid stench of burnt wood and charred flesh filled the air, but All For One paid it no mind as he moved through the ruined space. This warehouse was supposed to house weapons, a supply depot that supplied gangs operating in the area.

Just one warehouse of many.

Perhaps he could start clearing out the rest. His crimson gaze flickered with a dangerous intent as his mind worked through the possibilities.

Their territory could prove to be useful—if their best fighters were no better than the filth currently staining the floor, he could easily start with his new little project here.

As his thoughts turned toward the next step, his All For One quirk flared to life. A sharp jolt of awareness raced through him—a new ability had entered his range.

Behind him!

He spun instinctively, his enhanced perception providing a clear view of the sole of a boot coming toward him, but his muscles were just too slow to evade in time.

The strike connected with a sickening crunch, slamming into his nose and sending him straight into a nearby wall. His back hit the surface with a dull thud, and blood streamed freely from his dislocated nose.

The pain was sharp and immediate. Ignoring it, he lifted his head, his crimson eyes locking onto his attacker.

A cat person stood before him, his ears twitching with predatory satisfaction. The scowl on his face twisted his features into something almost feral.

Ignoring the blood dripping from his face, All For One rose slowly. He reached up and snapped his nose back into place with a practiced motion, the bones cracking back into alignment. He followed the adjustment with a quick pull of a health potion from his bag, keeping his gaze fixed on the adversary.

The cat person smirked, his sharp canines bared. "And here I thought you were that elven bitch," he sneered, his voice laced with mocking laughter. "Tell me, little rabbit, are you ready to die?"

He punctuated the threat by unsheathing his sword in a deliberate, menacing motion. The blade gleamed hungrily in the dim light, its quality seeming equal to what All For One got from Welf.

Wiping the blood from his face, All For One studied the new stepping stone before him with analytical precision.

This one was faster than the others. Stronger. A cut above the fodder he faced.

The cat person took a step forward, his confidence radiating from every movement. "You must be wondering why I'm not like these weaklings, huh?" he jeered, glancing at one of the corpses on the floor.

Without warning, he lashed out, his boot connecting with the corpse and sending it hurtling toward All For One. He dodged smoothly, but his senses flared again, behi—!?

too late. The cat was already at him.

Another boot collided with his gut, the force of the blow wrenching a grunt of pain from him as he was sent skidding backward. Gritting his teeth, he rolled and pushed himself back to his feet, his stance steady despite the burning ache in his abdomen.

"Fast," he muttered, his mind racing to analyze the situation. How was he this fast?

The cat laughed, his voice manic and grating. "You signed your own death warrant, rabbit. A Level One like you doesn't stand a chance against me." He leveled his sword at him, his smirk dripping with condescension. "You cocky Level Ones always amuse me. I'll show you how big the gap between Level Two and One really is. Hehe~."

All For One's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "Level Two…?" he murmured, piecing the information together. Canoe had failed to mention this critical detail. If that bastard wasn't already dead, he would have ended him himself.

His fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword as he unsheathed it. So far, he'd relied on his flames to deal with this gang. But against an opponent like this, he needed more than just fire.

Settling into a defensive stance, he exhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving the cat person. This was his first encounter with a Level Two, and the difference in power was undeniable.

Even so, he refused to entertain the thought of defeat.

This opponent was faster, stronger—but All For One had conquered challenges far greater than this arrogant fool.

His victory was assured.

—

The End 

—

Naaza: Miach,we need to cook!

Hope this was up to your expectations, reader.