[Who Is Eddie Howard, the One the Newbie Caught?]
[TamingMaster]
(A distant photo of Eddie)
Eddie Howard.
Born in the UK, his real name is Ed Junior Howard. Since that’s too long, I’ll call him Eddie from now on.
This son of a bitch Eddie is a runaway mage who killed his master and fled after some... whatever happened at the Clock Tower. The omitted details just mean he studied at the Clock Tower.
Anyway, after leaving the Clock Tower, this bastard went absolutely batshit crazy. He started using mysteries on civilians. The reason hasn’t been revealed yet, but there was speculation that he was testing his magic and its lethality. Well, it doesn’t matter.
The mysteries Eddie uses are all dangerous, every single one. Not only mental attacks, but he has a ton of physical attack methods too. Most ordinary mages wouldn’t survive a head-on fight with him. Even I can’t guarantee I’d win.
And they say the newbie killed that mage directly. On top of that, even though he was ambushed, he turned the tables, grabbed him by the neck, and twisted it.
(Frog question mark meme)
God damn it, newbie, how the hell did you do it?
[Upvotes 103][Downvotes 0]
[Comments]
-No, so what you’re saying is... a mage who hasn’t even been learning magic for half a year caught a lunatic who tests magic on civilians, someone that even established mages wouldn’t guarantee victory against?
ㄴWhen you summarize it like that, it really is insane lol
ㄴAnd he even got ambushed and then destroyed him instead lolololololol
-That thing he was bragging about last time. What was it? A sword that kills primates? He probably just sliced him up with that, right?
ㄴEven if that’s true, how would he have gotten close? You think Eddie just stood there like a moron going “irasshaimase” and let him hit?
ㄴWhy are you getting mad, you shithead.
ㄴㅗ
[Okay, analysis complete.]
[It’s Hot]
(Mage thumbs-up photo)
Eddie? You have no talent.
[Comments]
-Thus ends the testimony of a mage who wouldn’t last one second against Eddie.
ㄴIt’s Hot: Bullshit, I’d win.
ㄴLol
ㄴIt’s Hot: You’re cracking up. Should I really crack you up?
ㄴThreatening the Blade Emperor is honestly badass.
[But seriously, how long are they gonna keep calling him a newbie]
[Earwigs]
After he smashed Eddie like that, he’s not a newbie anymore. He’s spoiled. He’s rapidly decaying.
When are you making a permanent account?!
A woman with crimson hair. She stood quietly on the pier, letting the sea breeze wash over her, as she tapped a comment onto the freshly posted thread.
-Dolores: How about the Lady in Red Shoes?
ㄴEarwigs: Piss off.
“Why though? It’s a really nice name.”
At the immediate reply, she pouted her lips and glanced down at her shoes. Beneath them, a corpse had a hole punched clean through it in the exact shape of her sole.
The body had died without even closing its eyes. She stared at it, blood streaming from the holes all over its form, and grumbled.
“Honestly, I swear, people just lack a lady-like mindset!”
Dolores Victoria.
A specialist in dollcraft and body reinforcement, she rinsed her blood-soaked shoes in the seawater while tapping at her phone.
ㄴDolores: I’m certain the newbie will love the name I pick! Since we’re fellow ladies! Ohohohohohot!
Dolores posted the reply and beamed.
“I’d love to see his face! I’m sure he’s a woman with a beautiful appearance and a ladylike personality!”
She fantasized about enjoying teatime with Ian, the image she’d painted in her mind, and turned around.
The dim warehouse on the pier.
Mannequins were tearing the flesh off brutally murdered corpses with grotesque movements. Dolores gazed at the scene and nodded with satisfaction.
“That takes care of one more job!”
The squelching noise of meat being pulverized intermingled chillingly with her voice.
*
Two days later, Eddie’s bounty was deposited into Ian’s account.
Exactly about 250 million won in Korean currency. It wasn’t a particularly large sum for a bounty on a notorious mage, but it couldn’t be helped since the Clock Tower apparently didn’t consider Eddie all that important.
If Eddie had caused massive property damage or human casualties within the Clock Tower, they would have taken a harder stance, but the only person he killed there was his master. So they had no reason to hunt him down bloodthirsty.
Thanks to that, the bounty wasn’t much either.
250 million won after all the fees were deducted.
Even that was only because they had the corpse. Otherwise, it would have been even less.
Well, he hadn’t done it for the money in the first place, so he didn’t really care. He was just satisfied to have earned some unexpected income.
“Yeah, thanks for handling it so cleanly.”
[No, thank you. We happened to have some time on our hands, after all.]
Ian’s workshop.
In the dark space, all outside light blocked by curtains, Ian held his phone and conversed. The other party was the Management Bureau agent he’d met at the hotel.
[But now that you’ve claimed the bounty, news of Eddie’s death will reach the Clock Tower. The Cartel will keep quiet about who killed him, but they’ll quickly figure out the incident happened in Korea.]
“Hmm... Is that a disadvantage or a threat to me?”
[I’m not sure. I just thought it would be best to let you know, so I’m telling you.]
“Alright, I got it. Thanks for the heads up.”
[Yes. I’ll be off, then.]
Ian let out a breath, ended the call, and collapsed onto the sofa.
The Clock Tower.
A mage organization based in the UK, the very foundation of mages itself.
It was such a closed-off place that even fellow mages who hadn’t visited had no easy way to obtain any information about it. At most, all that was known was that it was the homeland of mages and the sole institution for magical education.
‘I’ve read in books that there are numerous schools, and they wage factional wars among themselves, but beyond that, I know nothing.’
Whether the Clock Tower mages were friendly toward Eastern mages. Whether they would consider someone with no bloodline, who just picked up a grimoire and became a mage, as one of their own.
There was nothing he could know for certain. He had absolutely no way of predicting what reaction they’d have upon hearing about Eddie’s death. Personally, Ian didn’t want any major trouble with them, but when had life ever flowed only in favorable directions?
Perhaps they’d brand him a rootless mage and try to kill him. Or come at him to seize his grimoire.
If something like that actually happened, Ian would have no choice but to kill them too.
Having already killed Eddie, adding a few more to the count wouldn’t change anything. Rather than being passive in a foolish attempt to persuade them, it was much better to cut their throats from the start as a message not to mess with him. There was no need to shoulder unnecessary risks with no benefit to be gained.
Of course, Ian had absolutely no intention of acting subservient just because the other party was the Clock Tower.
The hierarchy had to be clear. He refused any narrative where his leash was grabbed from the beginning.
‘Well, the best outcome would be for us to just pretend we don’t know each other. If they find out I possess a grimoire of the Outer Gods, they’ll try to take some kind of action no matter what.’
Historically, mages who possessed grimoires of the Outer Gods were, without exception, never normal. Mass slaughter was the baseline, along with cannibalism, indiscriminate killing, land contamination—you name it, they caused all sorts of disasters.
Of course, Ian was the sole exception, but the Clock Tower probably wouldn’t see it that way. So it was best if he wasn’t discovered.
“……Huu.”
Ian cut off his idle thoughts there, let out a long breath, and turned his head.
On the table.
The alchemy ingredients he’d set up beforehand came into view.
One metal beer mug, salt, a bowl of horse blood, bone powder, holy water, and Ian’s blood.
These were the materials to create a vessel that could hold souls. Most were items purchased from the Cartel; only the holy water was self-made.
Making holy water was surprisingly simple. Fill a transparent cup with water, add a few pinches of salt, and recite an incantation. To increase the purity, you’d need to add resurrection herbs and let it mature, but since he didn’t need to go that far, he just used salt.
Fortunately, the quality was quite high. When he’d tested it on an elevator ghost, it had practically loved it to death. Thank goodness he stopped just before it could achieve nirvana, or it would have been obliterated.
Anyway.
With the ingredients ready, it was time to craft. Ian immediately set to work.
He slowly drew a magic circle onto high-grade paper. Every geometric pattern was meticulously engraved without a single misalignment. He placed the mug atop it, poured the holy water and horse blood inside, and mixed them together. Carefully, he sprinkled salt and bone powder into the now faintly reddened liquid.
The mug was now prepared. Ian uncorked a glass vial containing his own blood and dripped it lightly along the edges of the magic circle.
The moment the border was stained crimson, the circle emitted light, and the liquid inside the mug began to boil.
“Foundation bestowed upon life. Purity held within the soul.”
Ian gazed down and began to chant. The grimoire in his hand emitted a faint glow.
“I have personally prepared a resting place for you, so offer your memories to me and rest in the divine embrace. I, as the deputy and consort of the Great One, command it. Embrace your rest.”
The instant the incantation ended, every drop of liquid within the mug evaporated and scattered into the air. The red smoke rose upward, then gently flowed back inside the mug, clinging to its surface and melting into it.
With that, the crafting was complete. Ian exhaled a long “Huu” and lifted the beer mug.
Perhaps because it was a decorated metal mug and not an ordinary glass, it seemed to exude a mysterious aura. Ian examined the now-red-stained vessel from various angles, then set it down and brought out Eddie’s head. He placed it on the table and carefully extracted the brain.
The task took quite a while. He wasn’t a doctor, so it couldn’t be helped.
Who would have ever thought he’d find himself extracting a human brain in his lifetime? If he’d told his past self from just half a year ago, they’d undoubtedly have slapped him and told him to stop talking nonsense.
“Hwuu, I did it...”
After a long while, Ian, his face now drenched in blood, finally succeeded in extracting Eddie’s brain. With reverent hands, he crammed the pink brain mass into the mug and mashed it roughly. He used a rod made from bone as a tool.
Crunch, squelch!
The brain pulverized with a rather loud noise. Doing this made him feel oddly like a mad scientist. The sensation traveling through the rod to his fingertips was extremely strange as well.
In any case, the preparations to hold the soul were progressing steadily. The moment the brain was completely pureed like a smoothie, Ian stopped grinding and added a little of his own blood inside.
In that state, he recited the incantation.
“I command in the name of the Great One: entity contained within this vessel of souls, reveal yourself.”
[……Ah.]
As the incantation ended, Eddie’s face materialized inside the mug in a hazy, smoky form. It stared straight at Ian before speaking.
[……You called.]
Eddie’s soul spoke with a voice perfectly identical to his living one. Ian grinned at the successful alchemical result and wiped the brain matter and blood from his hands.
“Shall we start with a self-introduction?”
The maximum time the soul could remain bound to the mug was five minutes.
He had to get the most out of it within that time.
*
Today, the skies of England were overcast as always. It was the result of the Industrial Revolution Aberration that practically squatted over the country. No matter how many times you killed it, that godforsaken aberration kept multiplying, constantly summoning dark clouds over the English sky.
It was still far better than before. In the early days, it used to cause smog, spawning a fair number of respiratory patients, so from England’s perspective, the shift from smog to mere dark clouds was a welcome change.
But separate from that, he didn’t like not being able to see the clear sky. Wine sipped under the moon at dawn was quite the delicacy, yet it had already been a week since he’d last seen the moon, and it was grating on his nerves.
“Tch.”
The man clicked his tongue and tapped tobacco leaves into his pipe. The beret pulled low shielded his eyes from the light of the lamp on the table.
“The subjugation season is soon. I’ll bear with it.”
He grumbled a bit and lit his cigarette. With acrid smoke, the tobacco leaf burned, and the toxic fumes traveled down his airway, heating his lungs.
He knew it was bad for him, but this sensation was so unbearably lovely.
How could he ever quit smoking? It was no wonder that the famous Holmes lived with cigarettes and opium his whole life.
Of course, that Holmes had now become a Mystery and was forcibly causing all manner of murder scenes on Baker Street in London, but that was a problem for the Management Bureau, not something the Clock Tower needed to worry about. Anomalies were their job.
Thinking so, the man put his feet up on the table. Just then, someone knocked on his door.
“Elder. Are you in?”
“Come in.”
The man answered the familiar voice. At the same time, the door opened, and a beautiful young man with flowing long hair entered the room. He bowed immediately toward the man.
“I greet Elder Dylan Duke of the Clock Tower’s Portentum School.”
Portentum School.
One of the branches of the Clock Tower, it was where mages who mainly dealt with Mysteries resided. Dylan was one of the only three elders among them. It meant that his magical skill alone was acknowledged even within the school.
Just being in the school for a long time didn’t automatically make one an elder or senior. Only with skill could one wear that honorable title before their name. Dylan was one of the living witnesses who had risen to the position of elder through blood-soaked effort.
Although one of Dylan’s peers had killed their master and declared himself a runaway ninja, his skill was genuine regardless.
Thanks to that, he had never once lost his confidence in life.
It was the same now. He looked down with satisfaction at the young secretary showing him respect and blew out a puff of smoke into the air.
“What is it?”
“I’ll get straight to the point. Edi is dead.”
The secretary delivered the news in a flat tone. It was a relatively calm voice for announcing the death of a worm that came from their own school.
It wasn’t really strange. It had been thirty years since Edi had run away from the school. There were hardly any who still harbored hatred toward him; more and more now simply regarded him as a ghost of the past and a disgrace.
Of course, as a criminal from the school, it was true that he had to be killed. However, because Edi’s skill was quite outstanding and all the Mysteries he used were focused solely on murder, even the Clock Tower didn’t actively pursue his subjugation. What if they lost precious mages in the process?
Thus, the strategy they chose was a bounty. It was practically outsourcing, asking anyone at all to kill him.
It had been ten years since the bounty was placed.
At last, news of his death had come.
“So the bastard finally croaked.”
Dylan clicked his tongue at the news of his peer’s death and put the cigarette back in his mouth. It wasn’t that his mood turned sour. He simply didn’t care either way.
“Who killed him? A bounty hunter? Or a grimoire hunter?”
“It seems to have been a fellow mage. The state of the body was so damaged that it simply couldn’t be explained unless it was the work of a mage.”
“Hmm, he must have died in Europe then.”
“Ah, no, not that. He died in a country called Korea over in Asia.”
“Korea?”
Dylan tilted his head as if surprised.
“Is there a mage in Korea skilled enough to deal with Edi?”
“I don’t know. It’s too remote over there.”
“……Hmm. I see. Well, it doesn’t matter. If Edi is dead, that is enough. But, hmm… personally, I am curious. Who the mage who killed Edi is. Perhaps it’s that woman, Dolores, who went over to Korea.”
“Shall I investigate?”
“Do as you like. Do it if you have nothing to do, and don’t if you’re busy. It’s nothing important anyway.”
Saying that, Dylan suddenly recalled something and turned back to the secretary.
“More importantly, have you heard the news?”
“What news do you mean?”
“The news coming from the Mediterranean.”
Dylan smiled faintly and tapped his legs.
“I heard that the Eighth Book of Moses was completely destroyed. So the remaining Sixth and Seventh Books are seeking revenge for it.”
He let out a chuckle.
“Something interesting might happen, so keep a close eye on the magical newspaper.”