Making Money (3)
Do you know what the penalty is for arson?
If it's deemed intentional, you get 15 years in prison. Even if it's ruled an accident, it's still around 3 years. Considering that murder—the gravest sin a human can commit—is only about 10 years, arson carries a heavier weight than taking a life.
I grew up under my aunt, who cared for me better than my own parents ever could, molding me into an upstanding citizen. So I knew all too well how terrifying arson could be.
And yet, I'd gone and set a fire.
The silver lining in this misfortune? The blaze I'd ignited wasn't in the real world—it was scorching the community.
...Is it okay to just leave this as is?
I knew that attention like this—whether friendly or hostile—wasn't great for a community like this. I had to do something.
First things first: delete my post.
No way—how were there already 400 comments? I shook my head in disbelief and dove into my post to hunt for the delete button. But no matter where I looked, it was nowhere to be found.
"No delete function?"
A sigh escaped me. Looked like I'd have to leave the post up.
Before brainstorming other options, I snuck a peek at the Gallery's state.
The Gallery was still blazing away. It didn't look like it'd die down on its own.
"Hmm..."
I swallowed a groan and pulled out my last resort.
"Guess I'll just sleep on it?"
Time heals all wounds, or so they say. Sometimes, problems you can't solve no matter how hard you try just resolve themselves if you give them space. It happens more often in real life than you'd think.
So, I'd let time put out the Gallery fire.
The next morning, I woke early, washed up quick, and headed out. I walked to the address Gusechan had sent me. Every now and then, the urge to hop on a bus bubbled up in my chest, but thoughts of my empty bank account shoved it right back down.
After trudging along for a while, I spotted Gusechan waiting in an empty lot. His flashy blonde hair was a bonus.
"Hey! You're late!"
"I got here right on time."
"You should've come 30 minutes early like me and waited!"
"What're you on about, you thug? And what's with that hair?"
Gusechan chuckled at my question, flipping his brightly dyed locks with a grin.
"This? Haha! Whaddya think? Dyed it fresh to celebrate becoming a mage!"
"Suits you."
No flattery—it really did. He already had that rough thug vibe, and now with the hair, strangers might peg him for the real deal.
"Oh yeah! Did you check the community yesterday? A 10th Grade mage showed up!!"
He clapped like he'd just remembered, launching into the familiar topic.
"...Is a 10th Grade mage really that big a deal?"
"Of course! They call 7th Grade and up Archmages, and 10th Grade is the top of the top!"
This guy had joined the community around the same time as me, but he seemed to know way more. How much of the Gallery had he scoured in that short time?
"Folks say it's the first time a 10th Grade has ever appeared here! Huge news!"
Up close, I noticed dark circles under his eyes. He'd probably pulled an all-nighter on the community.
"...I see."
I played it cool, nodding vaguely. Not the moment to confess I was the 10th Grade mage who'd kept the place lit up all night.
"Uwaaah—I wanna see a 10th Grade mage! Bet they cast the coolest, most beautiful spells!!"
I shook my head at Gusechan, who giggled like a maniac, staring at the sky. Telling him the truth might unleash something scary. The guy's always been obsessed with the occult.
I'd planned to explain everything and ask his advice, but this felt like a solo fix.
"Ah! Not the time! We gotta work!"
"Hold up, at least tell me what the job is."
"The broker'll explain. I don't know yet either. C'mon, let's go!"
Was it smart to dive in blind? Or was this Gusechan's low-IQ move, grabbing the gig for the pay? Hard to believe, but his track record of dumbassery made doubts sprout like weeds.
"Where we meeting?"
"Right around here... Behind that alley, probably."
Following him, I spotted a rundown office.
"Real estate broker?"
"C'mon."
It was a deserted alley in the boonies. Gusechan strode in confidently and flung open the door; I slipped in before it shut.
The inside was worlds apart from the shabby exterior. Neat desks and chairs. The bookshelf overflowed not with real estate tomes, but English originals on magic.
"Don't touch. They're expensive."
I'd just reached for one to skim when a voice cut through like ice. Sheepish, I withdrew my hand and bowed slightly.
"Sorry."
The owner, a stiff-suited guy with glasses, adjusted them and eyed us.
"You two the mages here for the ghoul hunt?"
"Ah! Yeah, that's us."
Blockhead Gusechan finally clocked it and nodded. Suit Guy turned wordlessly and headed out.
"Follow him!"
Gusechan grabbed my wrist.
"Got it, just let go."
"Haha! Work! I'm a real mage now!"
Beaming at the title, he released me.
I smirked. The guy had a talent for lightening the mood. I trailed after him.
We rode in Suit Guy's car—a luxury sedan. Ten minutes in the back seat, and we stopped.
"What's this place?"
"Dunno."
Ignoring useless Gusechan, I watched Suit Guy step out slowly. Catching my pointed stare, he explained.
"...Assuming you're briefed, but to recap: Dispose of ghouls spotted in the sewer. Report says three, so it'll be quick. Wait here."
He ducked back into the car. I glanced at Gusechan, who scratched his head blankly.
"So, now what?"
"Hunt 'em."
Gusechan pulled a baseball bat from his duffel bag.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
"Feels good."
A few practice swings, then a satisfied nod.
"No magic?"
"Mine's close-range."
Close-range? Weren't mages all about distance spells? The community posts, now melee mages—my mage fantasies were crumbling.
"What about me? Can't do magic, no weapon."
I knew it was dangerous but came empty-handed. Sounded lame, but Gusechan told me to.
"Got your gear. Here."
He dumped a stack of yellow paper bundles from the bag into my hands.
"What's this?"
"Talismans."
No instructions? I griped, and he grinned like he'd expected it.
"Infuse your intent and throw. That'll do it."
"What kinda bullshit is that?"
"That's all I know—picked it up from the community."
"Wait, then—"
"Whoa, time's flying! Let's move!"
He checked his watch, bolted for the sewer. Dodging explanations? Nah, just my imagination.
"Hey! Swap weapons!"
I chased his vanishing back into the sewer.
Fifty minutes prowling the sewers.
"Fuck."
I'd snagged a few stray ghouls easy, thinking I was getting the hang of it. Wrong.
"GRAAAAAH—!!"
Reality hit when I saw Gusechan surrounded.
Limbs torn, guts flying, his flashy hair soaked in blood.
Second time watching a man die.
Lesson learned: Even mages die if they get careless.