Wrapping Up Loose Ends

Morian's impression of Suhyun had changed dramatically in the short time since they'd met. At first, when she'd seen him in the market, he'd seemed like a rich amateur mage with plenty of coin but no strong potions on hand, splashing money around on his junior like it was water. When he'd shown up at her home unannounced, he'd turned out to be ridiculously powerful yet stingy with reagents, forcing her into a contract as his ruthless employer. But when he'd built an orphanage for her siblings on Nautilus, she'd realized he was a mage of unimaginable wealth and mana beyond her judgment. And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when he'd burned Malik at the stake with flames of judgment, she'd wondered if this was what the zealots meant by an angel.

In the life Morian had known since birth, good people only suffered while scum in human skin preyed on them. The zealots preached that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the wicked would be punished, but to Morian, those who got punished weren't the bad guys—they were the weak or the stupid. When she was little, there'd been a gang boss unusually strong for a thug. He'd been a decent sort for a crook—buying extra food every day, eating it cleanly, and leaving the scraps ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠by the back door for the orphans. He'd protected them in his turf, taking protection money but providing that shield in return. He hadn't lasted long; one of his underlings stabbed him in the back. And that traitor was still living fat and happy under the Black Dog. So Morian didn't buy the zealots' nonsense about evil always getting its due.

But seeing Suhyun help her siblings, witnessing the flames of judgment consume even Malik's soul—she'd thought maybe that's what an angel was like.

Now, watching Suhyun free the people locked in the black mage's lab, set up a cauldron in a corner of the ruined mansion, and brew restorative soup with alchemy infused with magic, Morian asked, "Why are you doing all this?"

As he fed them soup made from enchanted ingredients to mend their wrecked bodies—treating ailments he could've fixed with simple spells—Morian watched. Orphans, beggars, vagrants, and now the disabled. People who offered zero profit. With some unconscious hope stirring in her, she asked. Maybe she wanted confirmation that her harsh world was the exception, that out there, good deeds brought blessings and evil reaped punishment, just like the zealots said. Maybe she hoped Suhyun would spin some old tale about the virtue of charity and the wages of sin.

But his answer shattered her expectations.

"'Cause I feel like it."

"Huh?"

Suhyun sat the flustered Morian down and continued. "Kids need protecting. Bad guys need punishing. Good folks deserve to be happy."

His face twisted in a sneer as he parroted the zealots' lines.

"But you learned all that crap—does the world actually work that way?"

He placed a hand on a child's wound, festering from surgical scars, and cast a healing spell. The kid's pained grimace eased, his whimpers quieting. Suhyun handed soup to the next one.

"Even in this territory alone, orphans get no protection. Black mages live like kings. And good people...? They exist?"

"Not that I know of."

He fed medicine to a sniffling kid, who grimaced at the bitterness. Suhyun chuckled, ruffled his hair, and popped a candy in his mouth.

"Everyone knows how the world should be, but they don't live it 'cause it's hard. Help street kids? Your own might starve. Want to smack down a strong bully? Yours might end up orphaned. Reality forces their hand. But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I can."

A limping servant of Malik approached, and Suhyun scowled.

"I've got the power."

He kicked the servant away.

"That's why I live how I want. I've got the cash for whims like aiding orphans, and I can waste street trash on a lark."

His words were arrogant, but his actions selfless.

"What, no sermon? 'Be good or get punished'?"

"You already know. No power? Good life breaks you. Power? Evil life thrives."

As he spoke, Suhyun snapped a homeless man's crookedly healed broken leg and reset it properly.

"You can say that stuff here?"

The man wept, biting down on the rag in his mouth despite painkillers. Suhyun checked the alignment.

"It's fine. If they don't wanna die, they'll be good to anyone weaker than me."

Unlike the zealots' empty platitudes, if angels existed, Morian thought, she'd want one like Suhyun.

Daiyen pored over Malik's research logs. The human experiments numbered in the absurdly high hundreds. "Even with all the city's beggars and orphans, no one notices this many vanishing?" she insisted.

Wielding that justification like a blade, she scoured every inch of Malik's assets. A local heavyweight like him didn't just hoard gold and goods—he held intangible stakes in guilds, artisans, facilities. Tally them up, and his influence dwarfed the lord's.

"What a mess."

Lords ruled not just by force or law, but through shares in urban infrastructure. This one's grip was a flat failure.

"Hey, it worked out for us, right?"

Normally, absorbing Malik's stakes in key city facilities would've taken ages. But with the "black mage accomplice probe" banner and Suhyun's muscle, Daiyen steamrolled it.

"Huh? Obstructing the investigation? Accomplice?"

"Wanna try me? Suhyun!"

Those two words silenced everyone. A suspiciously regimented crew of freshly "discharged" thugs ambushed her—only to get crushed by Suhyun, their leader branded an accomplice. The locals bent over backward after that.

Securing the black mage's fortune cleanly netted Daiyen far more wealth and rights than expected. She celebrated with a mix of cheers and screams at the paperwork avalanche.

Meanwhile, Suhyun gathered Malik's victims alongside the perpetrators: servants and Black Dog goons.

He offered the victims a choice: stay or join him. Those staying got a few silver coins. Those boarding Nautilus got orphanage spots for kids, jobs for adults. Nautilus kept expanding; work abounded—corridor cleaning, Daiyen's caravan gigs, apprenticing under onboard artisans.

The servants and goons? No choice.

"You're the Rehabilitation Squad now."

"What does that mean?"

Suhyun grinned. "My teacher said there are folks who stay good no matter what, ones who stay good if left alone, ones who turn good after a beating... and ones who stay rotten even after death."

A chill ran down their spines.

"We'll see which you are."

He cast a spell forged from Judgment's mana. They gaped at the magical tattoo searing their necks but stayed put—no one dared act up after witnessing Malik's soul incinerate or their boss crawling crippled.

"That mark proves you're rehab squad."

Judgment's mana hit the wicked hard, reacting to guilt. Suhyun didn't know the mechanism, but experiments showed good deeds shrank it. His creation, Sinner's Leash, was simple: defy the commander's orders, suffer agony. For innocents, a mere itch like a splinter. For criminals? Like wooden spikes driven under nails up to the skull.

A shoddy spell on good mana or casters fizzled in seconds. But on felons with Judgment mana? Permanent curse till sins cleared.

"Defy me, and this happens!"

He triggered it. Screams erupted. Pain scaled with guilt—all had aided the black mage's crimes, so it dwarfed normal torment. He stopped; most collapsed, whimpering like babies. The victims watching wore undisguised glee.

"Obey from now on. One: Protect Nautilus residents' lives and property. Two: Obey residents' orders if it doesn't break One. Three: Self-preserve if it doesn't break One or Two."

Commands set, he turned to the staying victims. "Use the squad as needed. Disobey? Discipline 'em."

The quick ones grinned at the squad; the slow followed suit. That day, the squad earned three skull tattoos.

While Daiyen wrangled Malik's asset docs, Suhyun finished a facility he'd tinkered with piecemeal since leaving Chromore. Unlike basic builds, embedding magic took time—even for him. Special materials demanded precision.

Finally complete, time to insert the magic realm nucleus. He summoned Nautilus's mages to witness.

Lucy and Morian followed tensely to the warehouse sublevels. A perfectly controlled magic realm nucleus was like a geyser: tap stable oil for riches, but one slip ignites catastrophe beyond human fix.

Lucy, who'd drilled Morian on this, shared her nerves descending.

"Whoa!"

Morian gawked at the waist-deep shallow lake inside Nautilus—fine sands, crystal-clear water sprawling wide. Perfect for siblings' splash time later, she thought.

Then Suhyun dropped the nucleus in. The fossilized trilobite gem hit water, writhed alive, burrowed into sand. Mana flooded the pool.

Morian nixed swim plans—the pristine water now brimmed with dense mana.

"Ah!"

Lucy, recalling Chromore's magic realm records, got it. He'd mimicked the other dimension: sealed space, water level matching the "gate" for controlled flow. Chromore's open flood drowned them in mana disparity; here, pressure-regulated.

"Can I take a bit of this water?"

Suhyun nodded at Lucy's timid ask. She filled her aquamarine flask—imbued with preservation magic—with the mana water. Sensing the pure Preservation mana inside, she marveled. Unlike material realm's muddled mana, this was pristine otherworld purity. And that much rare time-sub-attribute? Unbelievable.

"I'll grant access. Take what you need—just don't spill."

"Thank you!"

Elated at the mages' dream perk, Lucy bottled up. Morian trailed her out; soon Daiyen arrived.

"Why'd you call?"

Overworked on Malik's aftermath and spoils, she approached. Suhyun explained the Endless Stone Lake. No mage, she didn't grasp the arcane genius—but one line hooked her.

"Soak food in this, lasts a century."

"That's amazing!"

"And check this out."

He tossed her an ointment.

"What's this?"

"Skin-age preservation cream."

"Meaning?"

"Slather it on, your skin won't age."

"!"

Daiyen's face lit up. Noble ladies spent fortunes on youth serums. Mages and alchemists catered, prices insane. Commoners scraped for winter skin oil; nobles slathered gold-melt equivalents without blinking—if effective.

Hands shaking, she asked, "Cost? Excluding the mana water?"

"Seventeen silver, tops?"

She hugged him tight.

"I love you! After dumping the attack, the kill, the cleanup, and spoils on me—I wanted to murder you. But this? Totally worth it!"

One ton of grain resold elsewhere? Less profit than one cream to a capital noblewoman. And with Nautilus, mass production. Leverage its freshness for on-the-road crafting? Profit explosion.

"Plus, I'll make hot springs with this mana water."

"What?"

"Slows full-body aging."

"P-Possible?"

"Needs more research, but yeah."

"Don't worry about funds—make it. Please!"

New workload? Daiyen beamed with joy. Suhyun smirked as she bounced off—all according to plan.