Chapter 104
Chapter 104
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 104
Chapter Title: Investigation (1)
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"Dave. Fixer in T District, showed up on the scene about five months ago."
"Just five months?"
Edith Locke asked, sitting on the damp bed.
He was wearing only his underwear, fresh off a fierce battle atop the sheets.
"Yes. Most need at least six months for potential to show, so he's a bit ahead of the curve."
"I know that much. The worthless idiots die off quick, and only the ones who earn their keep survive."
"Exactly. In that sense, this fixer Dave stands out not just in T District... but across all of Randa."
"Ho... really?"
Edith showed interest.
Randa was a massive metropolis.
Everything was on a grander scale than other cities, and the same went for its alphabet-divided districts.
With a touch of exaggeration, each district was like its own small city—and for a dark horse to shine across all of Randa meant he'd hold his own nationwide.
That was no small feat. Especially in these harsh times when scraping by was tough for everyone.
Even talented folks from the straight world were flooding into the back alleys.
Of course, the bald guy talking might be hyping it up, but that seemed unlikely.
Duncan was ex-Pinkman, Edith's partner of twenty years. His skills and loyalty had been proven long ago.
"Couldn't dig up a last name?"
"No, sir. Just goes by Dave, and it's probably fake nine times out of ten. Black magicians use aliases as standard. Brokers don't pry unless it's suspiciously blatant."
"Hmm..."
Edith pondered for a moment.
Having survived countless gambles, he hated unknowns.
Unknowns meant either jackpot or bust—and in the gambling world, bust equaled death.
So he always tried to eliminate uncertainties.
But sometimes, there was no choice.
Especially for high-stakes bets like the one he had brewing.
"How's his rep as a fixer?"
"Pretty solid, based on his track record. The working girls brought in good crowds."
"You shove cash between their legs every day. They better deliver that much..."
"Give me the full briefing."
At the order, Duncan pulled a small socket from his pocket.
A processed magic stone was fitted to the metal device. With a snap of his fingers—click!—a barrage of images projected above it.
"Chimera capture for Matel Magic Lab, kidnapping a former Magic Tower vice-professor, guarding a magic brew production site, contaminated zone cleanup, and wiping out a truck robbery crew. That's the lot."
"Not much."
"But high-profile. Take the chimera job: no one caught it for two weeks, but Dave nabbed it in under half a day. More intriguing, the chimera went into hysterical panic the moment it saw him."
"Impressive?"
"Yes. It was a military-grade chimera, boosted for intelligence and aggression. Matel's got eyes on him now."
Edith shrugged it off.
Mages running bio-experiments was common knowledge, and persistent surveillance leading to snatch-and-grabs was no secret either.
Nothing new or groundbreaking there.
"I need a guard dog, not a lab rat."
"Apologies, sir... On the vice-prof kidnapping, he took down three Fighter Crew members solo."
"Fighter Crew? Sounds like baseline competence."
"Right. And here's the kicker: his spell schools are wildly diverse."
"Schools—like fire magic?"
"Yes. Against the Fighter Crew, he fluently mixed fire and disease schools. Might've used creation too, though unconfirmed. Rare for a black magician."
Edith silently agreed.
Street business had taught him the basics: black magicians usually specialized in one school.
Mainly fire, disease, manipulation, or creation.
They focused on one for efficiency, using others as backups. Dave having broad talent was huge.
Made sense for building that career so fast.
Duncan's report grew more captivating.
"Also, during construction on Kimble Family's magic brew site, he subdued four Magic Tower students who attacked."
"Magic brew? Oh, that trendy stuff?"
"Yes."
"Small world... Subdued, you say?"
"Yes. Turns out they weren't rookies—top students. He handled them alone."
Now it was admiration time.
Students or not, Magic Tower meant leagues above street mages.
The socket images proved it: lightning from clear skies, swarms of mana bolts, a warehouse corner exploding. Pure mage showdown.
Taking down four like that solo?
"For real?"
"Yes. Fighter Crew intel came from local rats, cross-verified. Mages via official Pinkman 'net navigator' commission."
Edith had to buy it now.
Pinkman's elite net navigators were trustworthy.
"We double-checked ourselves. Days after, Magic Tower and Crime Firm inked a secret deal. Timing's too perfect."
Hmm... Edith turned serious.
He'd pegged Dave as a dimwit or gimmick at first glance, but Elizabeth and Coco hadn't slacked.
They stood to gain big too, depending on how this played out.
His bastard daughter scoring big meant shares for them.
'In the end, the world's all about money. The alpha and omega...'
"Sir."
"Yeah? More?"
Edith asked earnestly.
Four mages down was peak; more wouldn't wow him.
But he was dead wrong.
"Yes. Rumor has it he survived a run-in with Puppet."
!!!
"...Puppet? The one I know? Not the fairy-tale puppet."
"Yes. Recent contaminated cleanup—hushed up, but tons of fixers died. Word is Puppet was behind it."
Hmm... Edith's face hardened.
He'd never met Puppet, but knew the legend.
Crime Firm's even deadlier shadow finger (executive).
Grandmaster to countless black magicians, architect of crime syndicates, underworld titan.
Rumors said he could topple nations, even slain grandmages.
Some called it hype, a washed-up devil-worshipper—but his info stayed top-secret regardless.
Survived that Puppet? Intriguing.
Too good to use once and toss for this job.
"Where'd you hear that nonsense?"
"Contact in city Internal Affairs. Old Pinkman pipeline. Not solid, but paladins showed—can't be zero chance."
Paladins? That sealed it.
They mobilized first against devils and shadow fingers.
"Still, baffling. How's a twenty-something black magician survive Puppet?"
"He claims Puppet spared him. No witnesses, though. Some speculate disciple or new recruit... Confirmed he used corpse dolls on that recent truck crew takedown."
Duncan snapped; new image appeared.
Midnight murk, but four grotesque corpse dolls slaughtering robbers clear enough.
Horrific forms, especially the last.
"What's that? Eating?"
"Yes. Draining life force and emotions. Fought corpse dolls before—never like these. See that withered guy?"
"Yeah. Pathetic."
"Northland black magician. Robbery specialist. Killed the landlord, looted the town, vanished months ago."
"Doesn't look tough."
Edith said, watching the limp surrender.
Made sense.
Fixers, gangs, black mages, street mages—idiots called them era's last warriors.
Capitalist view? Construction grunts surviving on violence. Back-alley thugs.
Necessary ants doing dirty jobs for crumbs.
Some shone bright once, but most faded unspectacularly.
This mage's end fit perfectly.
"Puppet connection seems legit. City's showing no signs?"
"None yet. My take: mages gaining power, so holding him for later use."
"Mm... Fair."
Edith nodded.
Post-cataclysm, mages and capitalists rebuilt the city—now vying for control.
Mages grabbed capital too; invisible power struggle escalating, not quite violent yet, but murky.
City hall and capitalist alliance built private forces just in case.
Crime Firm, Pinkman Office, broker guilds.
"Either way, murky background."
"Yes. Could really be Puppet's disciple."
"Mm... Hire him."
Duncan didn't flinch, just reconfirmed.
"You sure?"
"Of course. Nobody's a hundred percent safe in this game. Job's a gamble anyway—go bold."
Done. Duncan pocketed the socket, final check.
"Got it. So, this black mage last—Injoyment's Druid Scott, Magic Gun's Nina, Mana Brawler Russell, veteran fixer Godfrey. Five total."
"Solid."
"No more hires?"
"No talent left anyway. Rest lack skill, rep, or both... Irregular intros all like that. With your dozen team members, enough to guard her."
"Understood... sir."
"What?"
"One presumptuous question."
"...New. You ever question me?"
"No. Not since you saved me from debt twenty years back. Your moves always made sense."
"Not now?"
"...Frankly, no. Why give away nearly half your hard-earned fortune?"
Edith leaned back. He wondered too.
Dozens of bastards—why her? Pretty face?
Or to piss off that damn wife and kids most?
Probably that.
"Just because. Life's ending soon—wanna squeeze one last thrill from my cash. Need a reason?"
Clear answer.
Duncan bowed.
"I see. Understood."
"Good. Gotta secure taxes soon—prep fast."
"Yes, sir. I'll take my leave."
"Yeah, grab a girl on the way out."
Edith swigged his Black Market illegal viagra-life force booster mix.
Click—door shut. Down the hall, a man approached Duncan.
"Team lead. Plan as original?"
"Yes. We accept Madam's proposal."