A Traitor's True Colors
Yen's bluff worked beautifully.
"W-what are you curious about, officers?"
"Do I really need to ask the same question twice?"
"...Ah, ah! Right. The staff here."
The moment she brought up being an investigator from the upper lines, his attitude did a complete 180. The man who wouldn't even spare them a glance was now acting like a dog ready to roll over and show its belly at a single command.
The 7th region, Redline, and the 6th region, Orangeline.
Neighbors separated by a single wall.
To those looking down from the far heights of the upper lines, the distinction probably seemed laughable—nothing more than two beggars arguing over who was richer. But precisely because they were so close, the authority of the higher line felt all the more real and immediate.
It helped that Yen played the part of the overbearing superior flawlessly. Her expression was so cold that she looked as if she wouldn't bleed a single drop if pricked, prompting the homeless man to quickly cast his eyes downward.
"They're probably out entertaining, as usual."
"Entertaining? Whom?"
"Well, it's not really a matter of pointing to just one person..."
"I don't appreciate vague answers."
"Every neighborhood has its heavy hitters, doesn't it? The syndicates that run this place. They love dragging the Security Bureau folks out to play."
His tone suggested this was a daily occurrence. Far from controlling the criminals, the bureau was being led around by the nose. It meant the Security Bureau's original function had been completely paralyzed.
"How long has it been like this?"
"Well, they've always been useless, but they became a completely empty shell about three years ago. Everyone wants to quit, but it's not like they can just pack up and leave..."
Muzark could guess the rest.
They were using long-serving employees to maintain a facade. The reports sent to the upper echelons probably painted a picture of diligent civil servants and law-abiding citizens.
"There should be regular inspections."
"I've heard of such things, yes. But what would a nobody like me know? All I know is that in the last three years, not a single issue has ever been raised."
Hearing this, Yen ran a hand roughly through her hair.
"They really do a shit job."
"P-pardon?"
"Nothing. Thank you for the information."
"Oh, I'm glad I could help. Then, if you'll excuse me..."
"You may go."
The moment permission was granted, the homeless man grabbed his blanket and scrambled away. The remaining three watched him flee as if he feared getting entangled any further.
Once the man was far enough that their voices wouldn't carry, Muzark spoke up.
"Just out of curiosity, is it really okay to impersonate them like that?"
"It's not like it's a capital crime. Besides, they wouldn't even care."
"Won't it be trouble if they find out?"
"That won't happen. They'd never dream that a Redline dreg would use their names."
As Yen spoke with absolute confidence, a voice chimed in.
"Ah, the words of someone from the upper lines carry a different kind of weight, indeed."
"There's a bit of a bite to your tone. If you have a problem, why don't you just say it to my face?"
"Haha. I didn't mean anything by it. Why so defensive? Did I strike a nerve?"
"The only one who should feel guilty is the 'veteran' who hasn't been of any help whatsoever."
Another bickering match.
Muzark looked back and forth between the two, who were trading venomous barbs with smiling faces, and silently stepped into the office. Rather than wasting mental energy trying to stop them, he figured it was better to spend his time more productively.
With Yen around, I probably don't need to worry about any sudden surprises.
He scanned the office, keeping an eye out for any potential ambush. It was a habit he had picked up after the Mage Hunter incident. If a small inconvenience could buy him safety, it was a cheap price to pay.
Up close, the interior was even more of a disaster. Dust-covered desks, chairs knocked over as if they had been kicked, and light bulbs missing here and there, likely stolen.
As expected, the South Red Security Bureau was failing utterly in its duties. He wondered if Eastred's Security Bureau had looked similar to this a few years ago.
It was hard to imagine.
The Chief is truly a force to be reckoned with.
He felt the sheer scale of Shadia's influence skin-deep. It was no exaggeration to say that the entire city of Eastred relied on Shadia and the Security Bureau.
Though the safe zone where the citizens actually lived was still pitifully small.
He stood one of the fallen chairs back up, then straightened his back.
That was when his gaze naturally drifted toward a broken window.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
A crowd of dozens was marching toward the Security Bureau building, brandishing crowbars, wrenches, and other blunt instruments. Bowing and scraping at the front of the pack was the homeless man from earlier.
The homeless man repeatedly bowed to the leader of the mob, whispering a few words. Then, the leader spotted Muzark looking out from the office.
Their eyes locked in the air for a brief moment.
A smirk spread across the leader's rugged face.
Muzark clicked his tongue and turned away.
From the hallway, the sounds of bickering still echoed.
"Unbelievable, seriously."
The moment they confronted the mob that had stormed the building, Yen thrust her license forward. It was undeniable proof of her status as a mage. Sure enough, a small commotion rippled through the crowd.
However, the man who seemed to be the leader remained calm.
"An investigator from Orangeline, you say?"
"Unless your eyes are made of wood, you can tell it's not a forgery."
The man scratched his scarred eye as he peered at the license. He looked back and forth between the license and Yen's face as if comparing them, then raised his right hand.
"Bullshit."
His middle finger slowly rose.
"Those bastards don't just drop down here unannounced. Why? Because their inspections are just to add a line to their resumes. They don't actually give a shit about what happens to Redline."
He pointed his middle finger upward.
"A trash heap needs to stay a trash heap. That's how it suits the folks up there."
"That's rather unpleasant to hear. Are you implying we deliberately turn a eye to crimes in Redline? Depending on your answer, I could arrest you right now."
"I told you, your cover is blown."
The man tapped his own neck with a wrench.
"I know exactly who you are. There's only one hypocrite in Redline who can't grasp this simple logic. Still haven't adjusted to the air down here, have you? You've even managed to ruin your subordinates."
His tone made it clear he was already certain of who was pulling the strings.
Something about this feels incredibly off.
Muzark picked up on the discordance. To call it a mere bluff using abstract words, there were too many keywords that seemed to point directly to Shadia. Yet, the logic behind his claims was weak.
What was the source of this man's confidence? Furthermore, the interval between their arrival at the Security Bureau and the mob's appearance was far too short.
If someone spotted us on the street and tipped them off, it would make sense. But would they really bring dozens of armed men just because three outsiders walked in? With weapons, no less?
He couldn't shake the feeling that this was overkill.
Yen, too, seemed to realize that continuing the act was pointless. She deactivated her license and stared at the man with a bored expression.
"You certainly have a unique way of thinking. 'What's wrong with trash acting like trash?' is that it? Then why blame others? Is it to soothe whatever microscopic shred of conscience you have left?"
"Oh! I like that. That gaze of yours is quite chilling."
The situation rapidly deteriorated.
Behind the leader, the thugs adjusted their grips on their weapons. The murmurs that had rippled through them when Yen showed her license had long since died down. They looked ready to charge the moment the leash was cut.
"Oh dear. Junior, it looks like this won't end with just words."
"Why don't you step up and handle it, Senior?"
"Regrettably, my only talent is rubbing people the wrong way."
"This is no time for jokes."
Muzark swallowed hard. There were only three of them. And one was a man who might stab them in the back at any moment. Against more than twenty opponents, the pressure was undeniable.
In that tense, hair-trigger moment, Yen's calm voice drifted over.
"You can kill them, or not. Up to you."
It was an instruction to assess the situation and act as he saw fit.
The moment Muzark realized those words were directed at him—
"What are you waiting for, you bastards! Tear them apart!"
At the leader's shout, the outlaws roared and charged.
Fuck.
It was a completely different sensation from when he had faced the Mage Hunter. Back then, it had been a chilling dread, like a finely honed blade at his throat. Now, it was the raw, overwhelming pressure of facing a pack of hyenas.
—But it didn't take long for him to realize that was an illusion.
"Gah!"
Muzark's fist smashed forward, shattering the nose of the first man to reach him. His right hand, channeling Cryptofetica, was half-encased in black iron.
It had evolved beyond a mere plating of iron, now closely resembling a full gauntlet. Even the joints of his fingers were fully formed. Though it looked heavy and cumbersome, it didn't hinder his movements in the slightest.
Magic did not restrict its caster's movements.
"This bastard's a mage too! Overwhelm him with numbers!"
Of course, if that were his only defense, he would have struggled.
Just as he had sustained minor wounds during his fight with the low-grade demon.
That had been only yesterday.
Before setting out on the mission, Lahar had insisted they leave immediately, but Yen had delayed it by a day. During that single day, a change had occurred within Muzark.
—It's the absolute basics, but that also means it's just that important.
—There are plenty of flashy spells out there, but I've never felt more like a true mage than when I first learned this one.
The overwhelming advantage a mage held over a non-mage.
—With a bit of exaggeration, it changes the very world you see.
Yen's words had been no exaggeration.
"Argh! It's like hitting a rock...!"
"Damn it! Keep hitting him until he goes down!"
Weapons rained down on Muzark from both sides, but they did absolutely no damage. A thin, transparent barrier of mana enveloped his body. It was the Shield magic he had engraved onto his circuit the previous night.
He felt foolish for having been tense even for a second.
Considering his mana consumption, he didn't summon his Chain. These two spells were more than enough. Without sustaining so much as a scratch, Muzark systematically beat down the outlaws.
Suddenly curious, he grabbed one of them by the collar and asked.
"What exactly gave you the confidence to attack us?"
"Ugh... you monster..."
"I thought there would be at least one mage among you."
He slowly scanned his surroundings.
Before he knew it, the battle had ground to a halt. Several men lay on the ground, weeping and groaning with broken limbs. Some were bleeding heavily from poorly placed blows.
Yet, even they were better off than the ones Yen had dealt with. Eight corpses lay face down, completely motionless. The rest were barely clinging to life.
In contrast, neither Yen nor Muzark had suffered a single scratch. The only visible toll was Yen's slightly pale complexion, a side effect of her magic's recoil.
"Not a single mage in sight. And the one who talked the biggest game..."
Muzark turned his head and caught sight of the leader's back. The very man who had instigated this disaster was fleeing faster than anyone else, exposing his back without shame.
Amusingly, the bastard was a decent runner.
"I've got him," Yen said.
She mimicked a pistol with her hand. Mana condensed at the tip of her extended index finger. She initially aimed for his back, but lowered her sights to his legs, intending to capture him alive.
Just before she fired the mana bullet—
"You cowardly bastard, freeze right there!"
Lahar, who had been standing back from the fight, suddenly bellowed. Immediately, the fleeing leader glanced back and threw himself into a roll, narrowly evading the trajectory of Yen's finger.
The invisible bullet grazed his flank. The man quickly scrambled to his feet and vanished into an alleyway. His footsteps rapidly faded into the distance.
"Ah, damn it."
Yen and Muzark turned to look at Lahar almost simultaneously. In stark contrast to Lahar's sheepish expression, their faces were frozen like stone.
"I'll go after him. Let me make up for my mistake."
"Forget it. His life isn't worth that much effort anyway."
Yen replied coldly, lowering her hand.
"We've made too much of a scene. Let's head back."
Muzark exchanged a silent glance with Yen.
The word "investigation" attached to this mission had been nothing but a pretext.
A process to turn suspicion into certainty.
And the two of them had already obtained that certainty.
Lahar was a dangerous element, a threat to the organization.