Inian harbored doubts. Laban’s analysis was clear, and his methodology of destruction was effective.
But there was a problem with that plan.
It was far too “like Laban.”
Inian compared the kidnapping objective Laban had pointed out with that plan. There might have been other secondary effects, but the ultimate goal of the fake kidnapping Charles had orchestrated was to dilute the suspicion of black magecraft.
However, the plan Laban had analyzed—the behind-the-scenes sabotage with Charles himself sortying—was far too….
‘Aggressive.’
Charles wished to conceal the fact that he was in league with the Ochanja. This implied that Charles sought to avoid an all-out war with the Mother Fairy.
Yet wasn’t the sabotage plan Laban presented so belligerent that, rather than avoiding battle, it amounted to a life-or-death struggle with the Mother Fairy?
The combination of the goal of diluting the mascots’ suspicion and a large-scale sabotage operation requiring the black mage himself to step forward directly was somewhat awkward.
Even a small-scale surprise raid aimed not at immediate results but at raising the Mother Fairy’s long-term mana consumption burden would be strange all the same. Charles’s personal sortie carried a risk.
Because if his identity were exposed, there would be no way to salvage the situation.
It felt like a sentence with insufficient revision where the incantation resonance had gone strangely awry. Like “Younghee’s hobby is liking the night sky.” It wasn’t that the meaning was incomprehensible, but it was an irritation that felt somehow grating.
‘If this were Laban’s plan, it would make sense.’
Laban had a rather shortsighted side.
It wasn’t a belittlement born of Inian’s own ill will. It was a cold assessment from a hunter who had fought the prey named Laban for a long time.
He was a bizarre prey who, whenever bored, would fall into traps and find himself cornered, only to reverse the situation with the desperate flailing of a cornered beast and escape.
In other words, while Laban was first-class in his ability to handle crises demanding improvisation, his vision for the bigger picture was third-rate. He was different from Inian.
She did not possess the bestial intuition that Laban had. However, Inian, who had learned the art of kingship as the direct descendant of the previous president of Ramasut Holdings, prided herself on having a broader perspective than Laban, even if she had some personality issues.
From her perspective, Laban’s analysis contained the error of strategic objectives and tactical objectives contradicting each other, but….
“Ha! Is that why you’re a black mage?”
“Damn it. I can’t argue with that.”
Inian was a professional demon, and Laban was a professional black mage. When the black mage claimed that his own intelligence was the black mage average, and that Charles was also slightly below the black mage average but still more or less passing, there was no way to refute it.
“What if you’re wrong?”
At Inian’s retort, which had yet to wash away the stain of doubt, Laban flashed a broad, beaming grin.
“Oh ho. So that’s how it is? Then let’s go by the tradition between black mages and demons.”
“Tradition,” of course, meant a bet.
Normally, an ordinary black mage would prepare a fraudulent scheme to swindle the demon beforehand and then propose the bet, but Laban was confident that this time, no such preparation was necessary.
“If Charles goes beyond my expectations, on the premise that a way to return to Earth has been prepared, I’ll perform one year of unpaid service under you! Now, will you wager as well?”
“Very well. If Charles follows your expectations, from the moment that fact is confirmed, I shall act as your familiar for one year without compensation.”
Laban nodded without hesitation, then tilted his head about three seconds later.
“Huh, wait. The stakes seem somewhat unfair…?”
Laban, who had briefly re-examined their respective stakes, soon stopped thinking altogether. His gorgeous intellect whispered that there was no need to fret, since this was a bet he would win anyway.
***
“Life.”
Laban lost.
***
A state of emergency had been declared at Luxtiera High School. To be more precise, for the secret organization of Luxtiera High School—the Guardian Fairies and the magical girls they sponsored.
The Ochanja announced that Charles had been kidnapped. Along with a statement expressing regret that Resheph’s unnecessary actions had forced them to enter negotiations in a somewhat aggressive manner.
They sent proof of the kidnapping via two methods: online and offline.
Online. A video attached to an email sent to the Luxtiera High School principal’s account. It showed Charles bound in a cocoon of flesh and blood vessels.
Offline. A single package delivered to the principal’s office at Luxtiera High School.
Inside was Charles’s fresh left index finger, still dripping blood.
The Ochanja’s demand was simple. Send Magi Black to the eastern edge of Hicarias, and Magi White to the western edge.
They did not even bother hiding that they were aiming to defeat the magical girls separately. It was an obvious trap to anyone.
The three Ochanja surrounding the tube of flesh and blood in which Charles was trapped chanted like a round.
[For every ten minutes that pass without our demands being met, or for every unnecessary search attempt, one of Charles’s fingers will be provided.]
[Should you magical girls fail to properly carry out our demands, we inform you that we will be forced to slit our employer’s throat.]
[If this person’s life is worth less than your safety, you may make a rational judgment.]
Before even ten minutes had passed, Magi Black and Magi White had made their decision.
[Wait, mohu! We haven’t even figured out what traps the Ochanja have prepared, mohu!]
“Ah, so what if it’s a trap? When have we ever fought in a favorable situation?”
Papyrun watched Na Ihyeon shrug with a deliberately nonchalant expression, choosing his words carefully. In a situation where her uncle had been taken hostage, mentioning the possibility that it might be Charles’s own staged incident….
Wouldn’t that be too cruel?
[…The fact-checking with the other Guardian Fairies who were guarding Charles up close is not yet complete, mohu. The Ochanja might have created a fake Charles using illusions or something, mohu.]
Perhaps noticing that hesitation, Schune added.
“Even if it’s not Ihyeon’s uncle, an innocent person might be captured. If so, we must fight to rescue whoever it is.”
***
Laban did not know what conversation had passed between the magical girls and the mascots, but he could tell that something serious had occurred anyway.
The reason was simple. The blood vessel familiars he had deployed in ambush throughout the Hicarias sewers had detected two massive mana sources moving in different directions. It was the magical girls’ sortie.
“…There was no need to go that far. I can see silhouettes flying from the high school rooftop with my own eyes right now.”
Listening to the Demon Realm Archduke’s observation with one ear and letting it out the other, Laban chewed on Na Ihyeon’s hair.
“Have you lost your mind!?”
“Hey, it’s economical in terms of mana consumption.”
His excuse being that rather than making a new detection-exclusive artifact and then concealing it, it was far more cost-effective to simply chew it up himself and activate a detection spell. Inian scrunched up her face watching Laban lick the girl’s hair.
‘Good, good. I can feel it indeed.’
He excluded the mana felt from inside the high school. The quantity was too minuscule. Charles must have cut off a finger or something to make the staged incident more realistic.
The mana felt from the east was so distinct it was unmistakable; it was Na Ihyeon’s own mana used as a catalyst. He excluded this as well.
Laban waited leisurely. Since the magical girls had been divided between east and west, if sabotage were to occur, it would be to the south or north.
If Charles were a slightly more enterprising, black-mage-like, and rational character than he had expected, he might boldly aim for the center. The risk would increase somewhat, but he would be able to attack the Hicarias barrier even more powerfully.
“It seems the battle hasn’t properly started yet, given that no mana waves are felt. We have over ten minutes to spare. Shall we have some coffee while we wait?”
Inian refused, saying her stomach would hurt if she ran right after eating. Laban clicked his tongue. He had planned to tell her to brew it if she agreed to drink.
“By the way, it’s strange.”
“What is?”
“If the magical girls’ movements are this serious, the Ivory Tower side should have called for me by now.”
“Well, the situation is different from usual, so aren’t they just watching for a moment? If you’re called, answer that you’re engaged with a mysterious monstrosity. That birdbrain friend of yours will come running, saying he’ll save a lady in danger.”
Laban, who had been prematurely celebrating his victory with exaggerated leisure, felt a sudden foreboding.
‘They appeared?’
A mana source that appeared suddenly without warning. This in itself wasn’t strange. Something like teleportation—didn’t even the Four Heavenly Kings of the Ivory Tower use it to travel to and from their headquarters?
However, the direction the mana source was heading was the problem.
The west of Hicarias.
“Isn’t that where Magi White was dispatched…?”
‘A real head-on collision?’
Laban, who had pledged unpaid labor to a wicked capitalist, saw darkness before his eyes!