Drawing Out the Beast
August 29th, around 3:00 PM.
"H-Heavens! Investigator, sir!"
"What is it?"
"Look here. There's something buried!"
The shout of a resident who had volunteered for the excavation drew everyone's attention. Aiden pulled on a pair of leather gloves as he walked through the dug-up debris.
"Step aside."
"Yes, yes, sir!"
He effortlessly cleared away the mountain of concrete fragments. With just a Shield and basic strength reinforcement, a mage could work several times faster and safer than any non-mage laborer.
Since it wasn't a spot where a body was likely to be buried, his movements were bold and decisive. In fact, not a single corpse had been found for the past two days—only the occasional ownerless limb.
And then, finally.
"Found you at last."
Aiden shuddered at the sight of what lay revealed.
It wasn't the thrill of achievement after a long wait. It was an instinctive revulsion, an ominous foreboding, and a sliver of genuine terror.
To think it would be this intact.
It was a cocoon wrapped in dark red membrane. Mottled, swollen veins throbbed rhythmically like a beating heart. Fresh crimson blood seeped from various holes of all sizes puncturing its surface.
"This looks quite different from what you described."
"Tell me about it. It's changed a lot since I last saw it."
Muzark, standing behind Aiden, replied.
"Its shape is one thing, but the size has shrunk drastically. It must have struggled desperately to survive. At least we won't have to search for scattered pieces of flesh one by one."
"It certainly seems weakened."
But looking at it another way, even on the brink of death, it still radiated an overwhelming presence. Goosebumps broke out on Aiden's arms as he imagined what it must have been like in its prime.
Harmensales.
An ancient demon who had accumulated vast power over hundreds of years. It was said to have cast its 'roots' into the atmospheric mana, collecting knowledge by gathering everything that transpired across the Empire.
To think it actually existed.
In the past, it had been treated as nothing more than an urban legend. It was only about ten years ago that it was proven to be real, when a sudden empire-wide warrant was issued for Harmensales.
An elder of the 2nd region, Navyline, had verified the existence of the Apostle of Knowledge, Harmensales. Since then, rumors of sightings had cropped up everywhere, though most turned out to be baseless hearsay.
And today, Aiden stood face-to-face with that legend.
No wonder it was so hard to find.
Who could have guessed that an entity coveted by the highest-ranking mages of the Empire was hiding in the lowest slums of Redline? Even if someone had suspected it, they couldn't just come poking around on a whim.
Aiden's eyes darkened with deep calculation.
This is a massive achievement.
Massive was an understatement; it was almost too big to handle.
Meanwhile, Muzark watched Aiden closely. For now, they were collaborators. But once their respective goals were met, the dynamic would change.
We might end up fighting.
If Aiden coveted Harmensales, as Shadia had warned, they would inevitably become enemies. Ideally, he needed to silence the investigator before the eyes of Orangeline truly turned toward them.
"I trust you'll keep your promise."
"Rest easy. I am a man of my word."
Aiden poked the cocoon with his gloved hand.
"But keep one thing in mind. Your role in this plan is crucial. The reason I'm going along with your wishes without complaint is because I find your willingness to leap into the lion's den quite admirable."
"It's nothing new to me."
"Haha! Life in Redline must be truly harsh."
He was certainly different from the hothouse flowers raised in the upper lines. Indeed, the Muzark that Aiden had investigated was like the eye of a storm, plagued by all kinds of danger in a remarkably short span of time.
"But this matter is far too heavy to simply trade for a single life."
Aiden turned back to Muzark, his voice turning ice-cold.
"If you fail, I intend to turn Redline into a sea of fire."
"Is that a threat?"
"Not a threat. Let's call it... an option. This is a bomb that could shake the entire Empire. I would have to resolve it even if it meant calling down high-ranking mages from above Orangeline."
He patted Muzark's shoulder twice.
"So, don't die."
"Instead of wishing me luck, you're just cursing me."
"Hmm? I thought that was a well-wish. Was it not?"
"Don't do it again. You have no talent for it."
Muzark remained perfectly calm despite the chilling threat.
The time when he could be shaken by mere words had long since passed.
Even if I die, it won't be here.
It would be too pathetic to die now.
At the same time.
On the seventh floor of an apartment building near the Security Bureau, a middle-aged woman stared down from her balcony. From afar, it might have looked like an ordinary daily scene, but up close, the dissonance was striking.
Her face was as pale as if she had seen a ghost, her eyes kept darting back inside the apartment, and her hands trembled violently as she awkwardly hung and folded laundry.
"Act more natural! Natural...! Can't you even do that?"
"N-No, I can do it! I'll do it, please... hic!"
"Don't look back here. Every time our eyes meet, I'll stab them."
Heavy, ragged breathing mixed with the commands coming from the living room. Her husband and son, their thighs brutally slashed with a knife, were gagged and gasping for air through their noses.
The demand of the intruder who had burst in a few days ago was simple: monitor the Security Bureau without drawing attention. Every time she faltered, more wounds were carved into her family's bodies.
The woman was losing her mind with every passing second.
It would have been better if he had demanded something specific, but she had no idea what he actually wanted. More precisely, the intruder's goal had nothing to do with her or her family.
She could only pray for something unusual to happen at the Security Bureau.
Only then would this nightmare come to an end, in one way or another.
And then, catching sight of something below, the woman cried out hysterically.
"O-Over there! They're moving something! It looks like... a strange egg..."
"Stay right there. Try anything funny, and your kid dies."
A mage dressed in a shabby hoodie stepped onto the balcony. Peeking his head out, he channeled a minuscule amount of mana to cast a far-seeing spell, careful not to trigger any detection wards.
Looking out, he saw the investigator dragging out a grotesque object. The sheer ominous, sickening sensation radiating from it made the mage grit his teeth.
There was no mistake. It was Harmensales's body.
"What is that scavenger investigator doing down here, trying to steal my scraps...!"
The moment he confirmed it, he pulled back.
The investigator's detection capabilities were far better than expected, making it impossible to approach with a familiar. Having risked coming here in person, he had to tread carefully.
But now, the situation had changed.
If they transported Harmensales to Orangeline, it would become incredibly difficult to make a move. Orangeline wasn't as lawless or easy to navigate as Redline, and the news would spread like wildfire.
"Fuck. I'm the only one looking like a fool here."
He had pulled all kinds of strings behind the scenes to keep his tail hidden. In the end, only the most primitive method remained.
Since it had come to this, it was do or die.
"If possible, I'll kill them all. If not, I'll settle for taking down at least one of them. Making an enemy of the investigator will be a pain, but whatever. Once I go into hiding, what can a bastard like him even do?"
The mage turned around, his expression hardened. From here on, it was a race against time. He hurried to leave, but then paused, looking back inside the apartment.
There was the family who had witnessed him.
"Look at me. I almost forgot."
"W-We won't say a word! Please, just spare our lives...!"
"I don't believe you. How could anyone keep a secret like that?"
The mage's lips twisted into a cruel smirk.
"People always get talkative when they feel wronged."
Tick, tock.
In the quiet lodging, only the ticking of an analog clock broke the silence. It was dusk. As the sunset deepened, Muzark's bright blue eyes grew cold.
The core of the plan was simple.
If the mastermind's goal is Harmensales, there are only two targets.
The hollow shell of Harmensales's body.
Or the fledgling mage who had inherited the contract.
Since the targets were obvious, all he had to do was make them anxious. By now, Aiden would be loading the excavated cocoon into the trunk of a van and heading toward the gate.
It was a bluff designed to make the mastermind panic. A ridiculously simple scheme: pretend to transport Harmensales's body to draw the mastermind out.
Muzark had not gone with him.
He had stayed behind in his lodgings, completely unguarded. If the investigator—whom the mastermind couldn't easily ignore—remained glued to him, the enemy might keep their head down and refuse to show themselves.
I can't let that happen.
He was intentionally exposing a weakness.
Creating a tempting situation that the hunter couldn't resist. Objectively speaking, it was a reckless gamble for Muzark as well.
It was a plan riddled with uncertainties.
There was no guarantee Aiden would act as promised. Whether he actually crossed the gate or not was entirely his choice. He could easily just run off with Harmensales.
In the end, this is a matter of trust.
In this case, tangled with Yen, Harmensales, and the mastermind, Aiden was merely an outsider. He was in a far more relaxed position than Muzark, who had to resolve all three issues.
Lacking power, status, and psychological leverage, Muzark had no way to force Aiden's hand. Nor was he eloquent enough to sweet-talk him into compliance.
However, he believed he had a decent reason to trust him.
He's tested me with his words several times.
Aiden seemed more interested in Muzark as a mage than in the achievement itself. Considering the messages he had received, Aiden wasn't necessarily a disaster waiting to happen to him.
Besides, today wasn't the only opportunity.
Since Harmensales was still in Aiden's hands, he could cross the gate whenever he wanted. From Aiden's perspective, there was no real reason to break the promise.
If I succeed, great. If things go sideways, he can just cross the gate then.
In a way, it was like flipping a coin. The reason Aiden had agreed to the plan was because he had a backup option in case Muzark failed.
If Muzark died, the contract would likely transfer.
Harmensales had struggled desperately to avoid death multiple times. In other words, the demon was in no position to reject a new contractor. It would grasp at any straw.
If the mastermind became the new contractor, it would be practically impossible for them to go into hiding. Harmensales would periodically demand sacrifices. Whether they offered demons or humans, it would inevitably leave a trail.
If Aiden swept through Redline with the intent to burn it to the ground, as he had threatened, they would surely be found—though it would come at the cost of civilian lives, a scenario Muzark didn't want to imagine.
However, if Muzark overcame this, many things would change.
No. That's not it.
Let's be honest.
I just want to do this myself. Rather than leaving it to an investigator who has nothing to do with this mess, I want to tear this bastard apart with my own hands. I want to smash his face with my fists and rip his head off.
I want to win this on my own.
Come on.
Let's end this, Muzark thought.
*Scratch.*
His eyes snapped open at the sound of scratching at the front door.
—BOOM!
With a deafening explosion, the front door was blown away along with the wall. Writing utensils and a board game on the table clattered to the floor. They were all junk that Yen had dumped on him.
Muzark deployed his Shield and glared through the billowing smoke. A human silhouette wavered in the haze. A moment later, his gaze locked with the man who stepped out of the blast.
He was an ordinary-looking man.
In an Empire teeming with a melting pot of races and vibrant colors on every street corner, his appearance was remarkably unremarkable.
"You've got some funny ideas, don't you?"
He looked to be in his late twenties. Dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, with brown hair and a freckled nose, his utterly mundane appearance made his presence feel all the more jarring.
"You want to fight me? Haha, is that why you're waiting here like this?"
Indeed.
A terrorist who had used a Demon Bomb to massacre people trying to clean up a literal wasteland, a monster who had broken Shadia's steadfast convictions and crippled Yen, forcing her to abandon her lifelong dream...
"Why aren't you saying anything? Ah! Did that investigator bastard abandon you?"
...this inhuman creature, walking around with his head held high as if he were a decent citizen.
"Well, that's pitiful, but what can you do?"
It was so utterly filthy and disgusting that it made him want to vomit.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure to send you off as painlessly as possible. Honestly, you've been pretty lucky up until now, haven't you? No, it was actually ridiculous. How you managed to survive every single time—"
"You talk too much."
Muzark clenched his fists.
"Why is a flatfish like you flapping its mouth on dry land?"
The flatfish's expression turned rigid.
"...I'm going to make sure you die a slow, agonizing death."