EP.180 The Master in Imagination
The night of the Military Nation is dark. Day laborers fall asleep like the dead in their quarters to prepare for tomorrow's toil, while night laborers are busy moving about somewhere.
Wrapped in a pitch-black robe, I headed to an abandoned labor site in Sector 13. Past the place where spinning wheels for extracting alchemy were left broken and abandoned in a building of bare steel frames, the moment I took a step further into the inner warehouse—
A sharp hostility directed at me.
"Stop. Password."
The most basic and efficient means to distinguish friend from foe—a password. It seems they've put together a decent arrangement.
But for me, who possesses the master key of mind-reading, it's no different from getting trust for free.
'The password is Mole, the response is Carriage.'
Thanks for telling me.
I read his thoughts and spoke exactly as they appeared.
"Carriage."
"Good. What's the business?"
"I'm a messenger. I've come to deliver facts you need to know."
'Facts we need to know? Don't tell me, does this mean the Shadow side has finished preparing to move?'
Thanks for explaining. I nodded as if affirming his thought.
"The preparation is complete. Everything we've done over the past few days has borne fruit."
"Fruit? What fruit are you talking about?"
'Why is he speaking so vaguely? The job you were supposed to do was assassinating the Market's manager, Clean! Just say you've assassinated him or are about to!'
Because if I answered precisely and you grew suspicious, it would be trouble. It's better to keep things vague and read whatever thoughts come to mind at the moment.
Like right now.
So you want Clean's assassination. Got it. I'll play along.
"The warehouse keeper, the manager, the Market's representative and simultaneously a secret smuggler. The aficionado. The preparation to take Clean's life is complete. His flesh shall sink into darkness."
"You could have just said that from the start."
Anyway, at the long-awaited news, the thugs occupying the labor site rejoiced greatly.
"Clean, that pot-bellied bastard. He's finally getting divine punishment!"
Their true identities, desperately wishing for Clean's death, were members of the transport union formed by gathered deliverymen.
The warehouse was one, but the deliverymen were many. Clean naturally mastered economic logic he had never learned and slashed the deliverymen's wages. Compared to Clean, who enjoyed wealth and power, the deliverymen were always scraping by.
Among them, a few who couldn't bear it anymore stood up to Clean, got beaten half to death, and hovered between life and death, vowed revenge.
'The Shadow are excellent assassins. Manager Clean, all plump with fat, is no match! Once that bastard who swaggered around claiming he learned some Qi Gong dies, our transport union storms the Market in the chaos! Most of what's in the warehouse is stolen goods or smuggled goods anyway. Grab and run, no one can catch us!'
The organization called the Military Nation's Shadow was mostly like this.
Groups or gatherings dissatisfied with the existing system. Those who hoped for a world favorable to them by breaking and destroying the existing framework.
As a result of reading the Captain's thoughts, the mastermind named Wolfen intended to gather these gunpowders and detonate them all at once.
So that the Military Nation, the firefighter, would deploy and cleanly sort things out.
Yes. To put it metaphorically, like slash-and-burn farmers who set fire to the forest and farm on that land.
The union members, unaware that their situation was no different from the bone-dry fallen leaves on the ground where the fire would break out, excitedly asked me.
"What's the signal?"
"When the warehouse keeper dies, fire will rise from the warehouse. Seize that moment."
"You're saying the warehouse will catch fire?"
"Yes."
"Heh, Clean bastard. What expression will he make when his precious warehouse catches fire! Ah, he's dead so he can't even make an expression! Too bad. Having to see that ugly face of his…."
It was then. From the other side of Sector 13, with a boom, crimson flames shot up. Scattering gunpowder dyed the Military Nation's sky red.
The transport union members hidden here and there bolted out as if their clothes had caught fire. They hastily looked toward the warehouse, then soon cheered in excitement.
"Serves those bastards right. Look at them!"
"Wait. If the warehouse burns down, what about our share?"
"It's fine! The Market's warehouse is big. Even if it burns like that, half will remain!"
"Hurry up and grab the goods!"
"The timing is killer!"
Looking at the red light spreading far away, I muttered.
"Ah, look at that timing."
What a terribly missed timing. They should've done it after I left, this just makes things busier.
The union leader in front of me also moved hastily.
"I didn't expect the assassination to succeed already! Everyone get ready! We're raiding the Market!"
While the union members moved urgently, the union leader wore a smile of ecstasy and clenched his fist.
"When you take control of the back alleys! We will assist you with all our hearts and sincerity!"
"…I'll remember. I have to visit other places, so I'll take my leave."
"Leave it to us!"
The transport union leader's attention quickly shifted to the Market. I walked away from them, my pitch-black cloak billowing long behind me.
Actually, those flames are fireworks planned by the Market to dispose of explosives. It was explosives Clean acquired to use as weapons in case of emergency, but Clean, unable to withstand my threats, converted them into fireworks.
The romance of converting weapon-grade explosives through alchemy for use in fireworks. This romance will echo throughout the Military Nation as a fake signal.
Then the ignorant moths, thinking it's time to burn, will throw themselves into the flames.
I don't know when the actual execution day is, but before that day comes, I burn them in advance.
What has already burned cannot burn again.
"Well then. The next place I need to visit…."
The night is shorter than expected. I would need to move even more diligently from now on. I got on the luxury automobile carriage I brought from Sepi's house and started the engine. Expensive things really do feel different from the touch alone.
It was when I was about to depart. Someone wearing a robe similar to mine came running breathlessly from up ahead.
Suspicious attire and suspicious behavior. I instinctively read his thoughts.
'Damn it! I have to tell them…! Some crazy bastard is going around impersonating our Shadow! At least stop the transport union guys from acting recklessly…!'
It was a real Shadow messenger. Sensing something strange happening, he seemed to have come out to discipline his own organization members.
Discipline… discipline… ah, wait a second. Bad memories.
Trauma assailed me, and I ended up stepping on the accelerator. The messenger's body closed the distance in an instant.
It's because of my weak body and mind.
CRASH.
The messenger hit by the suddenly accelerating automobile carriage rolled on the ground. Right after the collision, I jumped out of the carriage and yelled out.
"Ah, shit! Watch where you're driving!"
Perhaps well-trained, the messenger took ukemi reflexively and stood up even after being hit by the car. Blood flowed from his mouth, but aside from some broken ribs, he didn't seem seriously injured.
Too bad. Should've hit harder.
"Ugh…! You're the one driving…!"
Having suffered an unexpected accident, the messenger answered haphazardly without even organizing his thoughts.
"Look at this! The front of my car is all dented! What are you going to do about it!"
"I got hit by a car…!"
"Well, your face is more dented than my car. Sorry. It wasn't intentional."
"You crazy bastard…!"
Perhaps because the provocation hit home, the messenger pulled out a short sword from his coat. Seeing the pitch-black blade, I recoiled and shouted.
"Ack! A knife! This person is carrying a vicious weapon!"
"The person who hit someone with a car has no right to say that…!"
'I don't know who you are, but I'll kill you…!'
His pain transformed into aggressive instinct. The messenger thrust his blade without a word.
Facing him, I calmly read his thoughts and took out a card.
Diamond 4, a card with four rhombuses arranged in north, south, east, and west. I used alchemy to reveal the card's hidden form. The card greedily absorbed magical power and swelled.
What appeared after alchemical transmutation was a short spear, slightly shorter and lighter than the standard length. An ordinary straight spear with a rhombus-shaped blade and a long shaft.
The messenger, who carried a short sword to hide it in his coat, shouted as if aggrieved seeing my short spear.
"Crazy bastard with a spear…!"
"You drew the knife first, so it's self-defense!"
Both justification and the right of first strike belonged to me. I recalled the Absolute Spear and his disciple in my mind and took my stance to the fullest.
The messenger gritted his teeth.
'That stance is unusual! That man is undoubtedly a master!'
It's a bit different. What I did was merely mimicking forms.
Since each person's personality and physique are different, the optimal form for them doesn't suit me. In short, my stance is nothing more than bluffing with a puffed-up body.
However.
'I have to dodge with all my might! If I'm careless, I'll lose my life in one blow!'
If the opponent doesn't know it's a bluff, a fake stance becomes real.
Because if he shrinks back in fear of the spear blade that would tear him apart in his imagination, I gain that much freedom of movement.
'I just need to get close once! I can dodge it with the Secret Technique, Shadow Concealment, sinking into the ground! My stance will collapse, but if I can just endure that…!'
Alright. The plan is set.
I withdrew all expression from my face. Removing the playfulness, showing a cold expressionlessness for a moment, I put all my strength into my shoulders and legs and moved forward.
'…That expression…! He's a pro! He hit me with the car from the beginning knowing who I was!'
The spear tip wavered. Seeing that, the messenger used his full power with Qi Gong despite his injured body.
'Secret Technique, Shadow Concealment!'
Actually, a technique too shabby to be called a Secret Technique. A trick technique that uses Kun Qi Gong to pull the ground and slide one's body flat against it to get behind the opponent.
It's said that when one reaches mastery, it looks like hiding within shadows, but a mere messenger who hadn't even received the title of "Shadow" wasn't at that level.
Still, it would be enough to catch someone off guard.
'I dodged it…!'
I didn't even thrust in the first place. I spun the spear and held it vertically. With the blunt end pointing down, I immediately struck down.
Toward the abdomen of the messenger who was flat on the ground, sliding.
The messenger's eyes widened.
'Ugh! To see through this…!'
It was specialized in catching the opponent off guard, but… sorry, I've never lost at psychological warfare.
The messenger's body folded in half. The messenger, who was already half-hovering between life and death after being hit by the car, lost consciousness with my attack as the finale.
"Thank you for agreeing to a smooth settlement."
Phew, that was dangerous. He's not even a Half-Shadow executive, just a mere messenger errand boy being this persistent. No matter how much an automobile carriage is worse than a horse, to survive being hit by a chunk of iron this big?
If a mere messenger is this strong, how powerful must the Half-Shadow executives or the boss Wolfen be.
Hah, originally I intended not to dirty my hands.
"It can't be helped. I have no choice but to avoid combat even more proactively."
One victory is enough. From here on, I decided to pursue only moral victories.
Though what I caught was merely a Shadow underling, there was still a harvest. I ruminated on the memories extracted from the messenger, roughly tossed his unconscious body in a dark alley, and came out.
It was that moment. Something pitch-black flickered in the darkness. Feeling the back of my neck turn cold, I turned around.
The alley was filled with darkness. Other than the groans of the unconscious messenger, no thoughts could be sensed.
I tilted my head.
"…? Strange. Wasn't there something?"
A ghost? Or a phantom?
No, it looked like something similar to the Mud Grunts I saw in the Abyss…
"Must have seen wrong. Why would that be here."
There's nothing to see in a back alley like this.
Normally I would have investigated a bit, but right now I'm busy. I headed for the next contact point.