The clauses of the contract were, overall, focused solely on Ian’s benefit. Not every clause was like that, of course, but it seemed true that they had said they would accommodate him as much as possible.
“Hmm.”
Ian took a sip of the cold water he had brought over and rustled to the next page of the contract.
This was the last page. There were only two clauses written on it.
[24. Party A may not ask Party B to assist with personal matters, and the same applies to Party B. However, Party B may request Party A’s cooperation regarding missions carried out by the Management Bureau.]
[25. Party A may refuse Party B’s request for cooperation, but if an incident occurs that could endanger the survival of humanity, Party A must cooperate with Party B.]
The contract ended with the twenty-fifth clause. Ian set down the documents in his hand and, looking at the two people seated before him in formal posture, began turning things over in his head.
Overall, the terms weren’t bad. He rather liked that they placed no restrictions or restraints on him, and that he would be paid every time he cooperated.
They weren’t offering as much compensation as the Cartel, but that didn’t mean it was a small sum. Since it started from at least several thousand, he would have no shortage of money if he simply cooperated from time to time. He didn’t know whether they treated other mages this way as well, but there was no need to compare himself to them.
Still, considering that ordinary mages were apparently assigned watchers by default and even fitted with GPS, it was true that he was far freer than they were.
‘I can see why mages don’t want to get involved with the Management Bureau. If they try to control them like that, of course they’d hate it.’
It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand the Bureau’s position.
They were an organization that managed, tracked, and dealt with mysteries. It wasn’t strange for them to monitor mages, who could not only summon such things directly, but even handle them. Objectively speaking, it was a reasonable judgment.
But were mages the sort of people who could view matters related to themselves objectively?
Ian could think of it as reasonable precisely because it didn’t apply to him right now. If that surveillance, eavesdropping, and GPS tracking were applied to him, he would have thrown cooperation and everything else out the window and sent them packing.
“……”
Well, it was a meaningless hypothetical. There was no reason to upset himself worrying about a future that had no need to come.
Ian drained the rest of his cold water, tapped his shoulder with the grimoire, and opened his mouth.
“The terms are better than I expected.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. If there’s anything else you want, please write it in the blank space on the last page. We’ll accommodate you as much as possible.”
“Even more than this?”
“We’ve already accepted losses in order to establish a cooperative relationship with you, Mage. A major request may be difficult, but something minor should be possible.”
Kim Iseo spoke while maintaining her deferential attitude. Instead of answering, Ian tapped the cover of the grimoire.
Just what was the Management Bureau thinking, to insist so firmly on placing itself in the lower position? What reason did an organization have to bow and scrape before a single mage like this?
‘The Watcher.’
All the answers lay in the grimoire Ian held in his hand. He stared for a moment at his pitch-black grimoire, then let out a faint laugh.
A creature of the Outer Sea, openly summoned right before their eyes. A colossal monster that had swept away the doctors, nurses, and patients who had been alone in the hospital, and had even stopped the hospital director, the master of that space.
Because it was a spatial anomaly, summoning it had caused no particular trouble. But what would happen if it appeared in reality?
There was no need to think hard about it. Nothing good would come of it.
The Management Bureau was probably wary of that. That was why they were taking such a humble stance, adjusting the situation so that unnecessary casualties would not occur, and so that the edge of his blade would not turn toward the Bureau.
‘There’s no need to tell them that I can’t summon creatures of the Outer Sea without conditions, or that I need sacrifices even after summoning them.’
An advantage in information was always important. There was no reason to tell the other side something they didn’t know, especially not at a loss to himself.
Ian nodded and picked up a pen from the table. Seeing that, Kim Iseo and Park Mina’s expressions brightened slightly.
He did intend to sign. Rather than hide his identity in front of the Management Bureau every time he went out on a commission while keeping each other in check, it would be better to establish a cooperative relationship and move comfortably.
If there had been any content restricting his actions, he would have torn up the contract without a second thought. But there wasn’t. If he could maintain a good relationship with them without any restrictions or restraints, there was no need to refuse.
Even so, Ian did not sign right away. The moment he wrote his name on the contract, the agreement would be concluded, so before that, he planned to squeeze out everything he could.
He spun the pen in his hand and looked at the two of them.
“If I cooperate with the Management Bureau, which team will I be moving with?”
“You’ll follow the instructions of the General Department and cooperate with the Response Division or the Containment Team.”
“The Containment Team?”
“There is a facility beneath the Management Bureau where mysteries are imprisoned and studied. With your help, Mage, there should be progress in that research.”
At Kim Iseo’s words, Ian nodded.
The Response Division and the Containment Team. Even from the names alone, they sounded like departments that required force. He had no intention of cooperating with them that often, but if the need arose, he thought it would be best to prepare thoroughly.
“What kinds of incidents would require asking a mage for cooperation? Give me examples.”
“Reconnaissance, mass casualties, or cases where ten or more members of the Response Division are killed or go missing. We don’t call unconditionally.”
“How many mages are currently cooperating with the Management Bureau?”
“Three. If you join, Mage, that will make four.”
“Were their contracts concluded normally?”
“Some were, and some were not. Only one of them calmly accepted surveillance. The other two threatened that if we tried monitoring them one more time, they’d kill everyone, Management Bureau or not, so we modified the contract terms a little.”
“So you don’t monitor absolutely everyone.”
“We’re cooperating with talents known as mages, after all. The Management Bureau hasn’t existed for very long, so we have no choice but to bow our heads.”
A Management Bureau that hadn’t existed for very long.
Unlike the Vatican, the Clock Tower, or the Cartel, it seemed their history was extremely short.
Then again, if the Management Bureau had existed since ancient times or the Middle Ages, there would be no records left of demons or yokai. They were all treated as occult nonsense now, but back then, they must have been things that had actually happened. It was fortunate that information laundering had been handled well. Otherwise, the existence of mysteries would already have spread openly.
The question that arose here, however, was why no one had controlled information until the Management Bureau appeared.
Fortunately, when he asked, an answer came back immediately.
“They had been diligently controlling information since long ago as well. The problem was that it spread faster than they could control it.”
“Ah.”
“Since the Management Bureau appeared and firm information control began, they haven’t been paying that much attention to control either. They’re only doing the bare minimum now.”
“What means does the Management Bureau have that allow it to conceal and distort information when other organizations couldn’t do it properly?”
“Nothing special. We bribed people worldwide to damage, delete, and revise information, and even mobilized the power of mysteries to alter people’s perceptions. Cooperation from various corporations and governments helped as well.”
“……”
“Until now, other organizations never really established cooperative relationships with governments or corporations. The Clock Tower has always been a place that lived drunk on its own superiority, the Vatican is a closed religious group that follows only the will of God, and the Cartel is a profit-driven group that chases nothing but money. Governments around the world, and the UN as well, probably welcomed the appearance of the Management Bureau.”
While Kim Iseo paused to drink some water, Park Mina opened her mouth.
“Through the concealment of information, the frequency of mysteries appearing has also decreased greatly. Stories often possess power, after all. The more people perceive occult stories as mere illusions, the weaker the power of ghost stories becomes.”
“So that doesn’t apply to anomalies that didn’t originate from ghost stories.”
“……For mysteries that appeared without any origin, yes. Those simply exist.”
Hachishaku-sama, doppelgangers, Monkey Dream, and so on.
While there were anomalies that had not originally existed and appeared as human fear accumulated, there were also anomalies like theme parks, libraries, and hospitals that were born without any origin—mysteries themselves, in the literal sense.
With the former, it was possible to escape by using the method of defeat written in the original story or by thinking a little. With the latter, it was not. Without a proper strategy, one would die without exception. There was a reason Management Bureau agents cracked their heads over writing攻略 methods.
Ian let out a low hum and tapped the cover of the grimoire.
“If you compare the ratio between the two, which side is higher?”
“They’re about the same. The ones derived from ghost stories have a tendency to keep appearing, so if we’re only comparing numbers, the ghost story side is probably a little higher.”
“I see…… Can ghost stories that appeared recently also gain power and become mysteries?”
“If they’re famous enough, yes. But rule-based ghost stories like the Neapolitan kind have already had their concept devoured by mysteries, so stories created by people can’t gain power. Ah, but the Backrooms was created. Isn’t that strange?”
Park Mina said this and smiled awkwardly.
“Mysteries are rather peculiar. There are so many exceptions that it’s hard to define them as any one thing. We’ve made manuals in our own way, but those are revised every year whenever unusual cases appear.”
“……”
“It shows just how malicious mysteries are toward humanity.”
Ian did not answer, but inwardly, he agreed with her words.
Every mystery he had encountered so far had not been particularly friendly toward humans. Perhaps such beings might exist, but their numbers were surely not very large.
Thinking that, Ian set the grimoire down beside him.
“Good. Then the last question.”
With the pen in his hand, he tapped the final clause of the contract.
“What kinds of situations qualify as endangering the survival of humanity, as written here?”
“There aren’t many. As far as what has been observed so far, there have been the zombie virus, the ghost nuclear bomb, the resurrection of Nazi troops, and the like. In cases like those, the prophets of the Vatican and the Management Bureau cooperate to nip them in the bud beforehand.”
However, Kim Iseo added.
“We cannot stop the descent of an Outer God’s true body. That is why anyone attempting to summon an Outer God is executed on the spot, and their brain destroyed.”
After saying that, as though she were about to make a joke, she parted her lips with the faintest trace of a smile.
“But Outer Gods never answer the calls of humans. No, rather, they have no interest in them. They do occasionally bestow grimoires, but even that is nothing more than amusement on the level of tossing a filthy toy to ants. There likely isn’t a single Outer God that truly cherishes or loves humans.”
“……”
Instead of answering, Ian shifted his eyes slightly and looked into the Deep Sea Travelogue.
Then the pages of the grimoire turned slightly on their own, showing him a single sentence.
[The Master of the Outer Sea has sworn to bestow infinite trust and affection upon the owner of the Deep Sea Travelogue, the man hereafter referred to as “Shin Ian.”]
A sentence that seemed to openly refute Kim Iseo’s words.
Without realizing it, Ian let out a small laugh and closed the grimoire.