Chapter 148
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Brof's Unease
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"Isn't it kinda weird lately?"
It was Brof who said that.
As he spoke, he stabbed down with his fork, skewering a four-pronged piece right through the chicken.
Jin flinched at the sight.
It just so happened that the chicken Brof had claimed was the very last piece.
But what could he do?
Even with his battle-hardened heart, he still held onto that old respect for elders deep inside. He'd just have to suck it up.
"Weird how?"
"Marji. The vibe's all off."
Brof brought the chicken to his mouth.
Then, with that grease-slicked fork, he pointed toward the window.
"Speak of the devil, there goes one now."
"...?"
Jin naturally turned his head, and far in the distance, his eyes caught a transport ship.
Whoooosh.
The craft, trailing heat haze like a summer road, began rising into the air. Once it reached a steady altitude, its rune-etched engines rotated ninety degrees, spewing blue flames as it vanished beyond the city walls in an instant.
Watching it all unfold, Jin tilted his head.
"What's weird about that? Just a regular airship."
"That's how it looks to you?"
Brof, who'd just chugged some water to wash it down, replied.
"That's a Paimots medical ship. Probably a V94F model. It's packed with top-tier medical gear—a flying mini-hospital, they call it."
"Hm."
"One just like it took off the day before yesterday. Yesterday, a transport ship moved out too."
"Hmmm."
Jin crossed his arms at Brof's continued words.
No particular reason.
He was just striking a casual pose to avoid looking like he had zero thoughts rattling around in his empty head.
In other words, Jin still had no clue what Brof was getting at.
So.
In times like these, the best move was to nod along quietly.
The speaker would spill the rest on their own.
Just like now.
"Stocking up troops and treating the wounded? No doubt about it—they're fighting some big battle somewhere. And that building over there? That's the Nibraks faction's headquarters. Unless they've struck gold on something..."
Only then did Jin let out an "aha."
"So you're saying, while you're ripping your hair out decoding blueprints, you're worried they beat you to the punch?"
"...What kinda nonsense is that?"
Brof scowled.
His face twisted in clear displeasure, like he'd heard something utterly ridiculous.
But the hair he'd yanked out in creative agony betrayed that it was all for show.
He's gonna collapse at this rate.
Jin clicked his tongue at the sight of Brof, who'd aged a decade in just three weeks.
He'd seriously considered asking Katrina to whip up some meds for him.
What could you do?
Recreating a legendary artifact wasn't child's play.
If it were that easy, that would be the real anomaly.
Besides, the blueprint booklet they'd handed him was crammed with lofty, archaic prose—no precise measurements anywhere. It must've driven Brof up the wall.
Of course, Vagmar was no exception.
A quick glance showed the dwarf circling the same spot, muttering to himself nonstop.
He looked just like a caged animal pacing in stereotypical distress.
Crazy. What's his deal now?
The engineers were getting worse by the day.
At this point, maybe they were fermenting right here in the workshop.
With a sigh, Jin felt relieved it wasn't him tasked with crafting the Eternal East.
"No need to sigh like that, blockhead. We've made progress. Found some ancient tongue to counter the blueprint's wording."
Brof leaned back as he said it, snatching a few sheets from the paper mountain and slapping them on the table.
"Here, check this out. It's called Rune Tongue. Each word layers specific meanings..."
"You got this!"
Jin cut him off and bolted from his seat.
His patience was wearing thin for explanations that went right over his head.
"Hang in there."
With a nod to Vagmar, Jin stepped out of the workshop and greedily sucked in the fresh outdoor air.
Yeah, this is it.
Escaping those two blueprint zombies felt amazing.
And so.
Refilling his lungs with crisp air, Jin wandered aimlessly until he found himself stopping in front of a massive building, scratching the back of his head.
Habits were a scary thing.
He'd ended up at Solbein Tower out of sheer inertia.
Even though he no longer trained with the family head.
A few days back—right after sharing the Holy Flame Incantation—Bingbaek hadn't sought him out again.
And it wasn't just Jin.
Bingbaek had cleared his entire schedule, holing up alone in the training hall. No one knew what went on inside.
All Jin remembered was Bingbaek's final smile.
'Feels like I'm the one learning. Thanks.'
He couldn't quite read the transcendent calm in that voice.
Whatever.
Jin shrugged.
Good was good.
He just hoped things worked out for Bingbaek.
Of course, human hearts were fickle things.
He couldn't help feeling bored with all that free time now.
Bingbaek was locked in the training hall.
Brof and Vagmar were fermenting live in the workshop.
So what was left?
Jin pulled out his communicator and punched in a familiar number.
"Hey? You busy? In the city? Oh, mind if I tag along? Your mom? Psh, no biggie. Might as well say hi."
Like frying beans in lightning, he locked in plans, shoved his hands in his pockets, and ambled off somewhere.
In Marji, where political marriages between factions were the norm, there was no rule saying you had to find your match that way.
Sure, she was distant kin—too far removed to really count as family—but folks sharing the same name didn't just shack up like commoners!
...Not that it was some stuffy traditionalist (Jin's) reasoning like that.
Some people met by chance, fell in love, and bore fruit from it.
Of course, one key fact:
Those who chose this path usually had shaky standing within their clans.
Think about it.
If they had any political value, personal feelings be damned—they'd be pawns in the faction's grand game, standard for any Marji member.
Which made Bingbaek a total outlier.
Political marriage? Pass.
Faction politics? Deal with it.
Got complaints? Say it to my face.
Of course, given his refined nature, he never said it quite like that—but no one could deny he bulldozed ahead without a care for prying eyes.
It was 25 years ago.
Nineteen-year-old Bingbaek strode into the clan hall, hand in hand with a woman.
The real kicker wasn't that her name was Sara, that she was four years his senior, that she was a plain civilian clueless about mana—or even that she eyed the room warily with new life stirring in her belly.
'What about Lesina, then?'
The head's only daughter had been left high and dry by Bingbaek's bombshell move.
That was the core scandal.
Hate arranged marriages all you want.
But with the date already set? That crossed a line.
The clan erupted in chaos...
But surprisingly, the higher-ups hushed it up.
They decided to let it slide.
Reason being, no successor candidate matched Bingbaek.
See? That's why you gotta be exceptional.
He'd twisted Marji's creed—"Only ability trumps blood"—to his advantage in his youth.
Anyway.
Jin met Bingbaek's wife.
A gentle nod and a kind face.
The elegant matron, gracefully aged, offered a faint smile.
After dealing with ageless cryo-humans, seeing someone naturally weathered yet poised and beautiful felt refreshingly novel.
Jin bowed deeply in return.
His head nearly scraped the floor in a full folder.
"Pleased to meet you."
Of course, it wasn't their first encounter.
He'd met the family head's wife once before.
Just... back when Bingbaek lay bedridden.
Recalling her sobbing as she stroked her husband's face, Jin figured that day didn't count.
Highborn types probably didn't sweat showing weakness to outsiders anyway.
After some thought, he'd played dumb about it.
"It's been a while."
Her reply made his ears burn just a touch—not that he'd admit it.
Ahem.
As Jin straightened up with a fake cough, Katrina met his eyes and stifled a laugh.
The family head's wife added warmly,
"He wants to come along."
"Yup. That okay?"
"Of course."
She nodded, taking Katrina's hand and boarding the parked AV.
Jin followed naturally, only for Katrina—standing by the door—to nudge his ribs with her elbow.
"That bored, huh?"
"Put yourself in my shoes. Lying around gets old fast."
"What about Ruger?"
"Still at it. Seems like he's making headway, though."
"Really? That's great."
They whispered as such.
Suddenly sensing eyes on his skin, Jin turned to find the family head's wife seated, watching with a subtle smile instead of chiding him to hurry up.
Her soft gaze made him grin awkwardly as he climbed in.
With Katrina aboard, the vehicle lifted gently from the ground and took off, crossing the frozen lake into downtown in a flash.
Thus, Area 6.
True to Primus Zone form, the old-world charm hung thick in the air, and the city felt sparse overall.
Hardly anyone roamed the streets.
Maybe the plummeting temps had everyone hunkered down early. Whatever the case, if you could handle the cold, it was a decent spot for a leisurely stroll in the quiet.
"Isn't that a bit thin?"
"Pardon?"
"Your clothes. Think that'll cut it? It's pretty chilly."
"Oh."
Under her concerned gaze, Jin looked down at his school uniform.
Flight jacket, jeans, leather boots.
Definitely light for the weather.
Especially with a short-sleeve tee underneath.
Sure, Holy Flame kept hypothermia at bay, but the chill wind stirring old street-rat memories made him shrug involuntarily—misread by the family head's wife, apparently.
"Katrina, you."
"Huh? What?"
As she shot Katrina a scolding look, the wife grabbed Jin's wrist and tugged him into a nearby clothing store.
"Pick something."
"I'm fine, really."
"Now."
"Yes, ma'am."
So Jin grabbed a flight jacket off the rack.
One with decent lining.
Thick enough for winter—
"No good."
"Huh?"
"Too thin. Barely better than what you've got on. Here, what about this?"
She plucked a puffer from the display and held it up to his torso, sizing it up.
"Looks perfect on you. Shall we?"
Jin managed an awkward smile.
Few knew it, but his outfit was borderline obsessive.
A desperate cling to familiarity in an alien world.
That original "Jin" look had become his mental anchor—a routine, a set item safeguarding his sanity.
Of course, oblivious to this, the wife was already comparing alternatives.
As Katrina eyed Jin's expression wordlessly, she cautiously looped an arm around the wife's.
"This one's the best."
The wife raised her right hand slightly.
Up came the sleek black puffer with it.
"This one? Get outta here. I thought it suited him too."
"You buying it for me?"
"Naturally."
"Whoa, thank you."
Jin bowed deeply.
He handed his old jacket to Katrina, slipped on the tag-still-attached puffer.
"Perfect fit, right?"
Her bright smile drew an equally pleased one from the wife.
"Yes, spot on."
"Gonna carry me through winter, this guy."
Jin melted easily under kindness, his routine obsession crumbling against innate people-pleasing.
Warmth aimed his way today bent even his iron will.
Not bad at all.
Glancing in the mirror, Jin bowed again with another thanks.
Like a elder-hunter pro, the wife's smile deepened.
Though her eyes on her daughter held a hint of reproach.
"He loves it..."
"No, I— Mom?"
After that, things went smoothly.
Back on the street, the trio shopped side by side for groceries.
Apparently, the wife occasionally cooked for the family herself.
Even simple dishes tasted worlds better when you shopped and prepped by hand—that was her logic.
Now with an extra guest invited.
A bottomless pit who wanted everything.
"Oof, chicken—love it. Spaghetti? Gotta have some. Crab cakes? What's that? Make it, and I'll devour it."
Jin never said no.
The wife beamed, stocking up on ingredients each time.
Before long, his arms—flexed and joked about as sturdy—dangled bags bulging like ripe fruit.
"My god."
Katrina facepalmed at the haul, but Jin bantered on with the wife, wrapping up shopping before skipping back to the AV.
Feast tonight.
As the upbeat car headed for the frozen lake,
Shrieeeek—!
A sharp metallic whine pierced the air from somewhere.
The next instant.
A projectile sliced through the sky and slammed into the AV.