The moment Ian escaped the building, he headed straight for his workshop. Opening the familiar officetel entrance and stepping inside, an elevator shut tight greeted him.
A piece of paper with “Under Repair” written on it was stuck to the elevator door. But for Ian, it wasn't a big problem. With a calm expression, he knocked on the elevator door and spat out,
“Hey. If you’re in there, open the door.”
Ziiing.
Along with Ian's voice, the elevator door cautiously opened. Through the slightly parted gap, a ghost with disheveled hair dangling messily poked its head out.
[U-uh.]
Thanks to the hair covering almost her entire face, all that could be seen was a giant eyeball. Even that, only one was visible. She stared at Ian with trembling pupils and muttered,
[W-what is it……?]
“I was going to take the elevator. They say it's broken, but a ghost of your caliber should be able to operate it just fine.”
[T-that's true, but. Right now I'm a bit……]
“What nonsense. Just open the door.”
[Aah, maaasteeer……!]
She threw a tantrum. Ian stuck his hand into the gaping door crack and glared.
“If you don't open it in three seconds, I'll send you and the elevator straight to enlightenment. Open up.”
[Eek!]
“Three.”
[Kyaa!]
The elevator ghost burst open the door, tears streaming from her big, round eyes.
The scenery inside was less than expected. It seemed she had simply been enjoying some pleasant time alone.
He had wondered what he would do if the officetel owner was standing there entranced, but fortunately, it didn't look like he would need to deal with the elevator ghost.
With the ghost's help, Ian rode the broken elevator up to the floor where his workshop was.
Clunk!
The elevator lurched once as it came to a stop. Still, since it didn't fall or tilt, Ian was able to step safely into the hallway.
“Good work.”
He patted the ghost's shoulder, then entered his workshop with a cigarette in his mouth.
Inside the workshop, which felt like he hadn't visited in a long time, a chilly air lingered. It wasn't because there was any particular problem; he simply hadn't turned on the heater.
From the start, it was best to leave the workshop without any heating or cooling system running. So Ian turned on only a few lights, checked the state of the blackout curtains, and immediately got to work.
Slide.
He took out the necessary materials from among those neatly arranged in the drawer and placed them on the table.
The essential ingredients were a mage's blood, a map, a talisman with no effects whatsoever, and silver.
None of them were difficult materials to obtain. He still had some silver left over from before, and he had enough of the rest prepared in advance that there was no need to buy anything new.
The only thing he didn't have was the talisman, but he could make one right now, so it wasn't a problem.
‘Talismans with actual effects have tricky production methods, but ones without effects can be made by anyone as long as they have dexterity. They're basically just amulets after all.’
Ian placed the grimoires on the table, then slowly began crafting the talisman by weaving an ordinary golden cord.
He had experience making similar things back when he was just Ordinary Orphan No. 1 at the church, along with Orphan No. 2, Orphan No. 3, and so on, so he didn't have much difficulty with the production. Still, since it was only natural for his skill to fall short of an expert's, his speed wasn't all that fast.
It didn't particularly matter. If he rushed for no reason and ruined the shape, that would be a hassle in its own way. So he carefully shaped it, tightening it strongly so the cord wouldn't snap, forming a round shape.
Most Western talismans were made using metal or jewels. This was the most common method and produced the best effects. But that didn't mean they couldn't be made with materials like wood or cord. Though the performance would drop significantly, they could still hold magic well enough.
‘Of course, you can't use magic with just any charm sold at the market, but this counts as a metal talisman too.’
A talisman made to hold magic had to be crafted solely by a mage's hands. Even if an ordinary person poured in the finest materials, it was useless no matter what. Thanks to this, there were a few production-class mages in Europe who specialized exclusively in crafting talismans.
Unfortunately, there were none in Korea. That was why he was making it himself like this.
*Tug……!*
After a long time had passed like that, he finally tied the finishing knot and cut the end with scissors, completing the talisman.
The workmanship wasn't very impressive. It was jagged, and though the shape resembled a circle, it didn't form a perfect ring. Objectively speaking, it was very poorly made.
But since it was finished, that was enough. Ian placed the talisman on the table and began the full-fledged magic preparations.
Swish.
He reached into the air, and the Hand of Recreation, responding to his will, was summoned and turned the page.
[Ether Tracking]
[Tracks the ether remaining on an object. However, if the object is small or incomplete, it guides to the space where the same ether exists rather than the owner of the ether.]
[Ingredients: Mage's blood 1ml, approximately 15g of silver, a map (the more detailed, the more accurate), a talisman with no effects whatsoever.]
Ian carefully read the grimoire, double-checking the magic circle, then quickly sketched the magic circle on drawing paper. Next, he placed the piece of Irene's drawing in the center. He even fixed it in place with silver so the position wouldn't shift.
The map he had prepared wasn't a national map but a Gyeonggi-do map. Ian carefully unfolded the map so it wouldn't wrinkle and gently placed it over the silver. Then he dropped blood droplets on the four corners of the map.
With this, the preparations were complete. Ian let out a long breath, closed the grimoire, and stretched out his empty hand.
“He who holds the leash is here. Part the veil and pierce the heart.”
The moment he chanted the spell, the map began to vibrate. The blood droplets perched at the edges were absorbed into the map, and in an instant, the paper turned red and compressed. The map, now reduced to nothing larger than a peanut, melted like silver and seeped into the talisman.
Then, geometric shapes floated up over the crude talisman. A square was engraved inside a round circle, and within the square, a long isosceles triangle bloomed, beginning to point somewhere like a compass. It was proof that the magic was working normally.
“…….”
But it couldn't be maintained indefinitely. Since it wasn't the magic of an Outer God, the talisman's duration was at most about two hours. Even then, the shapes repeatedly disappeared and reappeared with a steady rhythm, like a beating heart.
Still, the fact that the talisman had reacted to a Gyeonggi-do map was in itself evidence that the target was within the Gyeonggi region, so he thought he might be able to find them within two hours. The fact that Irene had used magic nationwide had proven helpful in reverse.
‘Even if it can't tell me Irene's exact location, it should be able to guide me sufficiently to where the magic was activated or to its traces. Let's not waste time and move quickly.’
He stuffed the talisman into his pocket, grabbed items prepared for any unforeseen circumstances, and left the workshop.
As always, he chose his bike as his means of transportation. He fixed the talisman to the handlebars and adjusted the angle so the magic's effects would be clearly visible. He had set it to autonomous driving. Now the AI would drive on its own according to Ian's words.
Ian tapped the tank cover with his hand, smirked, and lifted the stand.
“Let's go.”
[Yes, sir.]
Vroom.
The bike began to move on its own. Entering the road, the bike exited the alley at maximum speed and merged onto the main street.
“Right.”
Following Ian's commands, the AI changed direction from moment to moment, heading toward the destination.
At the point when roughly about an hour had passed like that, Ian finally arrived in front of a certain underground theater. The triangle engraved on the talisman was pointing precisely where the theater was.
“…….”
Ian got off the bike, retrieved the talisman, and whispered to the AI.
“Turn off the engine and wait here a moment.”
[Understood.]
Fortunately, the theater was located on a sparsely populated alley. There was a white, aesthetic cafe sitting next to the entrance leading underground, but whether it shared an owner with the small theater or not, it wasn't open for business. Thanks to that, the only people wandering nearby were some elderly seniors.
He didn't know how crowded it normally was, but for Ian, the timing couldn't be better. He clamped a cigarette between his teeth and cautiously moved his steps toward the underground theater.
Creeeak.
He opened the firmly shut door of the small theater. He had readied magic just in case, but strangely, it wasn't locked. Instead, several shoe prints mixed with dirt were stamped on the floor.
“…….”
Ian's gaze naturally sharpened. He drew his revolver, stowed the cigarette away, and silently descended the stairs. The corridor of the not-so-deep underground theater immediately revealed itself.
At the entrance leading into the corridor, two men dressed in suits had collapsed. Ian immediately recognized who they were.
‘The Administration?’
Black suit jackets and pants. And scattered firearms and various equipment.
No matter how or where he looked, they were Administration agents. Ian approached them with a grave expression and checked their pulses.
Fortunately, their hearts were still beating normally. Their breathing was normal too. It seemed they had simply fainted for the moment.
After confirming their condition, Ian let out a long breath and rested his finger on the trigger.
‘So they were securing and guarding the scene in advance. That explains why the cafe and theater weren't operating.’
The fact that only two were dispatched to the scene was literally for preservation. It wasn't a place where a ghost had appeared or a mage was running rampant.
They had probably finished their investigation long ago and were guarding the scene to prevent civilians from entering.
But those two remaining individuals were currently collapsed, having lost consciousness and even foaming at the mouth. It was evidence that someone had breached past them.
‘They were choked into unconsciousness. Quite a grip—the handprints are left exactly in place. No signs of tools having been used.’
Ian examined the Administration agents' necks and faces closely, then pulled back the hammer of his revolver and stared at the stage entrance at the end of the corridor. A faint smell of blood wafted from beyond the slightly open door.
He didn't know what the intruder was, but whatever it was, it surely didn't have good intentions. He prepared to pull the trigger at any moment and slowly walked toward the open door.
“Hmm…… there's nothing here. Doesn't look easy to haul away the whole scene either.”
Just then, a small voice was heard. It was a woman's voice. Ian pushed the gun barrel through the door gap first and fixed his gaze on someone standing stock-still at the scene.
The first thing he saw was the back of a head. Ash-gray hair hung down with gravity, and the hem of an ill-fitting coat touched the back of her knees. Together with the acrid smell of a cigar, smoke billowed toward the ceiling.
‘Wait, that's…….’
At that moment, a familiar sense of déjà vu flashed through Ian's mind.
It was then. The woman, sensing Ian's presence, stopped all movement and turned her head slightly backward. Her ash-gray pupils collided with Ian's black pupils in midair.
“……Huh?”
At the same time, the woman's eyes went wide. She turned her body completely and spoke Ian's name.
“Sin Ian?”
“……Ah.”
The premonition hadn't been false.
A coat fluttering with her movement. A tight black crop-top fleece and leather pants. And a magic circle half-revealed on her exposed lower belly. A cigar held in her mouth.
Her features were so striking that he couldn't help but know who she was, like it or not.
What doubt remained?
The female mage he had encountered alongside Dolores at Owl—Alisa.
“What are you doing here?”
She tilted her head, asking the very question Ian had wanted to ask.