Greg Visk.

He was, in many ways, an anomaly among orcs.

What were orcs usually known for?

They were dirty, savage, and incomparably ignorant.

They were ridiculously strong, with tempers that flared at the drop of a hat.

In fact, statistics showed that about 30% of crimes committed by non-human species were by orcs.

But Greg had been different from other orcs since birth.

He loathed filth, preferred books over clubs, and enjoyed quiet cafes far more than raucous banquets.

So, it was no surprise that he left orc society without a shred of hesitation as soon as he came of age.

“Y-You’re applying to our company?”

“Yes.”

“B-But… you’re an orc…”

Unfortunately, being born an orc created enormous obstacles for him.

Perhaps it was because he was the son of an orc warlord.

Greg stood over 2 meters tall, weighed in the triple digits, and had an imposing frame.

Though his mother, a beauty by orc standards, had softened his facial features,
his green-tinted skin and protruding tusks still screamed “orc.”

No matter how capable or composed Greg was, people who harbored prejudice against orcs flatly refused to hire him.

“Living in the city isn’t easy. How long have I been stuck in the same place…?”

“Hey, you there! Green pig! Hand over everything you’ve got!”

“Oh, is this a robbery? What happens if I don’t comply?”

“Then I’ll use this knife to turn your guts into dog food, you—AGHHHH!”

“Hm. It seems this dull knife can’t even scratch my skin. Well, good. Take me to your hideout.”

Thus, to avoid starving in Nighthaven, Greg had no choice but to step into the underworld.

With the overwhelming physical attributes inherited from his father and his natural composure,
Greg quickly rose as a dark horse in the underworld.

“Boss! What’s next? Should we topple another organization?”

“…I’m done. I’ve had enough. From now on, handle things yourselves.”

“Huh?! Boss! Boss!”

But life in the underworld never suited Greg.

It was a place where the strong trampled the weak and lived however they pleased.

In essence, it wasn’t much different from the orc tribe he had left behind.

What Greg wanted was a quiet life—one free from violence and schemes, where he could enjoy his hobbies.

So, when he’d earned enough money, he left the underworld without hesitation.

Using most of his savings, Greg set up a shop in the “gray zone,” the boundary between the underworld and the outside world.

The shop’s name was Greg’s General Store.

Naturally, it didn’t attract many customers, and it didn’t earn him nearly as much as his days as an underworld enforcer.

But Greg loved the time he spent here.

The shop was quiet and peaceful, rarely involved in any incidents.

And when the occasional customer did visit, it brought just the right amount of excitement to his life.

“….”

“Don’t hold back. Eat as much as you want. There’s plenty.”

“…!”

Greg silently observed the white cloth hungrily devouring the barbecue in front of him.

The ghost.

This figure had recently become quite the sensation in the underworld.

Their presence alone acted as a deterrent to troublemakers in a place riddled with chaos.

They had flushed out troublesome vampires, forcing them into the spotlight.

Rumors claimed they had even escaped from a Double Number Fixer’s trap with ease.

With their unique appearance and dramatic exploits, it was no wonder they had gained such notoriety.

Lately, however, more malicious rumors had surfaced:

Stories of the ghost nearly killing innocent bystanders, trading dangerous drugs, or dealing in illegal enhancement substances.

These rumors prompted the Black Bamboo Society to place a bounty of 700,000 credits for their live capture.

Now, the ghost was the hottest topic in the underworld—a ticking time bomb, so to speak.

‘Doesn’t match the character I know.’

Greg, having had prior dealings with the ghost, didn’t believe the recent bad rumors.

If they were the type to harm innocents or deal in drugs, the underworld would’ve been buzzing with such stories long ago.

What troubled Greg even more was the timing.

The spread of bad rumors about the ghost coincided suspiciously with the story of them escaping a Double Number Fixer.

It felt orchestrated, as though someone was intentionally driving this narrative.

Greg’s experience told him exactly where to look for the culprit.

‘The Black Bamboo Society… or more specifically, that scheming lizard underling, not the cowardly rabbit leader. They’re trying to suppress the ghost’s influence.’

It made sense.

The Black Bamboo Society was a fledgling organization, barely five years old in the western labyrinth.

After the death of the “Rabbit King,” Wang Wei, his daughter had hastily taken over as leader.

Rival factions were constantly watching for opportunities to exploit their instability.

Then came the ghost, shaking the Black Bamboo Society’s already fragile standing.

Panicked, they’d resorted to desperate measures.

‘I don’t like their approach.’

While their method might seem reasonable to others, Greg found it deeply unpleasant.

Falsifying someone’s deeds to frame them as an enemy for personal gain…

He’d suffered from such tactics countless times during his time in the underworld.

The memory alone made Greg furrow his brow.

It was at that moment that Greg noticed the ghost approaching.

“….”

“Hm? What is it?”

The ghost rummaged through their belongings before suddenly extending a thin, delicate arm from beneath the white cloth.

It seemed as though they wanted Greg to take something.

When Greg reached out with his broad, thick hand, a small piece of paper fell into his palm.

“This is… a bread coupon?”

“….”

“You’re giving this as a gift? I didn’t expect any repayment, but… thank you.”

“…!”

A bread coupon.

Greg couldn’t help but chuckle at the ghost’s unexpectedly trivial gesture.

The coupon, which looked like it might blow away in the wind, was perfectly crisp and unwrinkled, as though it had been carefully preserved.

Its lingering warmth suggested they had been holding it close just moments ago.

The sight brought an odd sense of delight to Greg.

Studying the coupon for a moment, Greg looked back at the ghost with a serious expression.

“Ghost, the bounty on your head is 700,000 credits, right? That must be quite troublesome.”

“…!”

“Calm down. I’m not planning to turn you in.”

Startled by the mention of the bounty, the ghost leapt slightly into the air, but Greg quickly clarified to ease her nerves.

“You don’t look like you’ve been eating properly. Is that right?”

“….”

“If you help out around here, I’ll let you stay hidden until things cool down. The bounty hunters rarely come this way, so it should be a good place to lay low.”

“…?”

“And why would I do this? Well, let’s just say I don’t particularly like the Black Bamboo Society.”

The ghost tilted her head curiously, as if to ask what he meant, or nodded in tentative agreement.

Finally, she seemed to ponder his proposal deeply.

‘Surprisingly transparent for someone in the underworld.’

Greg couldn’t help but be fascinated.

Even though the ghost’s face and body were entirely obscured, her emotions were plain to see.

In a place like the underworld, where one had to hide daggers behind smiles to survive, such openness was a rarity.

“…!”

Eventually, the ghost made her decision.

She began hopping up and down, signaling her acceptance of Greg’s offer.

Considering the labyrinth was swarming with bounty hunters, the ghost likely saw this as her best option.

With their agreement finalized, Greg, now her employer, wasted no time assigning her first task.

“Well then… You should take off that cloth. Wearing it is basically advertising that you’re the ghost.”

“…!!”

The ghost froze in place as though she had turned to stone, clearly shocked by his suggestion.

After a few moments of hesitation, she seemed to acknowledge the logic in his words. Slowly, she began to remove the white cloth she’d been wrapped in.

When the ghost finally unveiled herself, Greg’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise.

‘…The ghost is a young girl?’

Her hair, long and silken, flowed like white threads down to her waist.

Her skin was soft and pale, with dainty arms and legs.

The shoulder that peeked out from her clothes was so slender it looked almost frail.

Though her face was hidden beneath a goblin mask, her overall proportions were strikingly delicate and undeniably those of a young girl.

Greg stroked his chin thoughtfully before speaking.

“This could… bring in some money.”

“…!”

“No, that’s not what I meant! It’s just that people often avoid my store because it’s run by an orc. Having you around might help with that.”

Greg hurriedly clarified, waving his hands in a panic as the ghost instinctively covered herself with both arms.

The scene could’ve easily been mistaken for something far more sinister, but fortunately, the ghost didn’t seem to misunderstand. She simply nodded as if to say she understood.

“The clothes you’re wearing… are those pajamas? You’ll need something else to wear while you’re working.”

“….”

“No other clothes? Wait a moment.”

Greg stood and walked over to the ghost, briefly measuring her height with his hand before heading into the back of the store.

After a short while, Greg returned carrying a pile of clothes in his arms.

“A while back, an eccentric old scientist came by. He said he wanted to dress up a ‘beautiful android’ he was building. But after a while, he decided the parts weren’t good enough and left this behind.”

“…?”

“…I don’t have a hobby of collecting clothes like this, so don’t get the wrong idea.”

The ghost tilted her head in confusion but accepted the clothes from the sheepish Greg.

As a general store that sold a little of everything, it wasn’t odd to have clothing in stock.

She seemed to be mulling this over, though she wasn’t overly suspicious.

But when she unfolded the clothes and saw what they were, the ghost froze like a statue.

The outfit was unmistakable.

It was a casual maid uniform, the kind you’d expect to see in a maid café.

What is this? You want me to wear this?

The ghost looked at Greg, her eyes filled with confusion and disbelief.