A Land-Dwelling Flatfish
Rattle, rattle!
To say the roads of the Redline were car-friendly would be a lie, even as a polite euphemism. The asphalt, which looked like it hadn't been paved in decades, was cracked and broken, littered with jagged stones.
Inside the endlessly bouncing vehicle, Rio groaned.
"Ugh, this shaking is brutal. I think I'm gonna throw up."
"Suck it up! We barely left a few minutes ago. Stop exaggerating."
Despite her scolding, Luca's face was just as pale and sickly green. Carsickness truly was genetic; if they kept driving like this for another thirty minutes, the twins looked ready to desperately beg for a black plastic bag.
"Why are you always perfectly fine, Professor? Are you a robot or something?"
"The driver never gets carsick."
"Wow, no fair! I want to drive too!"
"An investigator dying in a car crash in the Redline. Now that would make for a hilarious headline."
Knowing he wasn't actually going to get behind the wheel, Rio merely pouted. He stared out the window, trying to ignore the bile rising in his throat.
"By the way, Luca."
"Don't talk to me. What is it?"
How can 'don't talk to me' and 'what is it' even coexist in the same breath?
Rio found it absurd but let it slide. Luca had been spouting nonsense for fifteen long years, ever since she first learned to speak at age three. As her older brother, he just had to be the bigger person.
"Aren't you worried about that guy?"
"Why would I be worried?"
"You said you liked him because he's handsome. You were totally swooning over him."
"I—I was not swooning!"
"Whatever. He could die, you know."
In Rio's estimation, death was the far more likely outcome. Even a fallen noble is still a noble; if the opponent was a mage from the upper districts, the odds were heavily stacked against Muzark.
"I mean, sure, he doesn't seem like some run-of-the-mill Lower 5th Class scrub. But still, the matchup is terrible, isn't it? They're not even in the same league. And his opponent isn't some bookworm researcher either—he's a hardened criminal."
"I suppose so."
Luca also thought Muzark's actions were reckless. It would have been far more rational for him to ask at least one of the twins to stay behind and help.
"But what can we do? It's what he wanted."
Just listening to his conversation with Aiden made it clear: Muzark was highly intelligent. If even the twins could foresee the danger, there was no way Muzark hadn't.
Luca knew he was fully aware.
Above all, Luca knew how harsh the Empire truly was. She might like him—okay, a lot, maybe a whole lot—but she wasn't naive enough to lose sleep worrying over someone she had only just met.
Without power, you were stripped of everything, cast aside, and trampled underfoot.
"If he doesn't have what it takes, then that's his limit."
Often, death wasn't even the end. In the magical world, spells existed to manipulate the souls of the deceased. Even if illegal, the judgment of a mage varied depending on the circumstances.
Rio shook his head at her frosty tone.
"You cold-hearted brat. I knew that sweet act was all a facade."
"Look who's talking! You've been acting like a total jerk to him, but now you're secretly worrying? Who's going to appreciate that? I bet if you see him later, you'll say something stupid like, 'Oh, so you managed not to die?' You edgy poser! You're so annoying!"
"S-Shit! Who are you calling an edgy poser?!"
Aiden, who had been driving in silence, clicked his tongue.
"Watch your language, you insolent brats."
His index finger tapped irritably against the steering wheel. Whenever he was with the twins, his urge to smoke flared up like crazy. But that wasn't the only thing on his mind.
A translucent white circle was overlaid across Aiden's pupils. With enhanced, crystal-clear vision, he scanned every corner of the sunset-drenched city beyond the windshield.
Just as they entered a long, straight stretch of road.
"Of course. What a greedy bastard."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"It means criminals who think too highly of themselves usually overreach."
Atop the buildings lining both sides of the road.
A single figure stood on each rooftop.
One by one, they began throwing things. Dark red shapes plummeted directly into their path. As they drew closer, Aiden identified the falling objects.
They were demons, bound and severed of their limbs.
Boom! Crash!
The demons, spewing blood like rain, detonated the instant they slammed into the ground. The asphalt ruptured, and the shockwave violently rocked the car.
"Aaaagh! Those crazy bastards!"
"Hey! Stop screaming in my ear!"
The culprits who threw the Demon Bombs quickly vanished. Every single one of them was either instigated by the mastermind or coerced under threats to their families.
They had mobilized ordinary humans who wouldn't trigger mana detection. The destructive power of the Demon Bombs had already been proven through several experiments and real-world applications. This was the grandest move the mastermind could pull.
It was a clever move, in its own twisted way.
"I believe I told you to watch your language."
Snap!
Aiden snapped his fingers, releasing a surge of mana that enveloped the vehicle. A perfectly balanced sphere of force manifested. A Shield imbued with the property of expansion glowed with a faint blue light.
Thud, thud.
The tremors from the explosions weakened noticeably. It was too petty a trick to be a genuine attempt on an investigator's life. It was a mere probe—a "good if it works, whatever if it doesn't" kind of test.
In terms of resource management, it was a foolish choice.
"It seems they are severely underestimating our collaborator."
No matter how many Demon Bombs they possessed, their supply couldn't be infinite. Having used a massive quantity during the Security Bureau terror attack, they had to be running low by now.
As a result, the burden on Muzark would be slightly alleviated.
Still, a Demon Bomb...
The impact is heavier than I expected.
Even though they used worthless, low-grade demons as raw materials, it yielded this much destructive power. Of course, because the demons were weak, they were easy to manufacture, but...
If they were to use a high-ranking demon, it would be nothing short of a catastrophe.
Aiden frowned.
Where on earth did they acquire such knowledge?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Responding to his emotions, his Magic Circuit burned hotter than ever before. Muzark suppressed the urge to charge blindly and carefully observed his opponent.
A natural question took root.
Who the hell is this guy?
He knew the man was the mastermind behind the terror attacks.
The problem was that his face was entirely unfamiliar.
Suspecting the mastermind was a mage from the upper districts, Aiden had taken Muzark to the archive terminal. There, he had shown him the profiles of every mage demoted to the Redline over the past twenty years.
"Is this allowed? Isn't this an abuse of authority?"
"It is. Because you're not going to say a word about it."
It was practically a threat.
Regardless of the methods, the information was undeniably useful. He had memorized their notable traits as best as he could to gain an edge in combat, but in the end, it had proven useless.
I'm certain. This guy wasn't on the list.
Is he a native Redline mage, then?
"Got a lot on your mind, do you?"
Ssssshh!
The intruder's clothes suddenly ballooned, and a thick, grayish-white smoke billowed out from within. It spread with terrifying speed. In less than three seconds, the entire room was engulfed.
Muzark manifested his Cryptofetica, but the smoke did not dissipate. Its spread merely slowed slightly, and even then, the caster didn't seem to feel any significant disruption.
Is it a compatibility issue?
Until now, he had dismantled magic by 'touching' it. Those were spells with distinct, physical forms. By physically disrupting the magic formula, he could easily collapse them. However, he couldn't get a proper grip on the smoke before him.
Of course. The magic formula isn't woven into every single particle of this smoke.
Rather than a setback, this was actually a relief.
If it were, I'd already be dead.
If every single particle of smoke had been constructed through magic? It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it grand magic. If the caster wished, they could have used it like poison gas or white phosphorus.
Still, since it's reacting slightly to Cryptofetica, there must be mana mixed in. Does that mean the core formula is anchored to him?
Wary of toxicity, Muzark held his breath and lowered his stance. It was the natural choice when one's vision was obscured, but there was no guarantee his opponent suffered from the same limitation.
A magical duel against a mage of unknown strength.
"The true beauty of a magic duel based on Memorize is the 'combination.'"
"Synergy between spells. It's the absolute basic of basics, yet also the core."
He recalled a snippet of Yen's magic lecture from before the terror attack.
"For example—though it's rare—a mage who uses a sword might coat their blade with a razor-sharp Shield to use it offensively. Like sword qi or an aura."
"On top of that, they'll stack physical enhancement and sensory amplification spells. It doesn't look much like a traditional mage, but it's an absurdly powerful combination. They're like walking tanks."
By linking and casting multiple Memorize spells, a mage could create a powerful synergy. Yen had said that once a mage could do this, they finally transcended being 'third-rate.' By that definition, every mage Muzark had fought so far had been third-rate.
What about his current opponent?
Rustle.
Muzark reacted instantly to a faint sound from his flank. The moment he twisted his upper body, a sharp pain sliced across his flank. His Shield had been pierced with ease.
Though he had barely avoided a fatal blow, he did not panic.
What did I just get hit with?
It was a single attack, but it carried a wealth of information. Processing the data in his mind, he kept his body moving. Recalling the layout of the quarters, he dashed toward the entrance.
An invisible ranged attack. Was it a Bullet like the one Yen used?
The aim had been precise despite the obscured vision. Furthermore, the attacker made almost no sound while moving. A sensory aid spell to see through the smoke, combined with a spell to suppress sound.
It was a deadly combination.
Perfect for killing.
His opponent's combat experience was on a different level. Despite being the intruder, the man had successfully shaped the battlefield to his advantage. The sheer number and variety of options at his disposal were vastly superior. If Muzark played along with his game, he stood no chance.
Muzark flipped a table within arm's reach. Even if it did no damage since the opponent likely had a Shield active, buying even a moment of distraction was a win.
This was the most dangerous moment.
Pfft!
"Ugh!"
A clean hole was punched through his left arm. No matter how effective a Bullet was at piercing a Shield, the fact that he couldn't even deflect its trajectory highlighted the stark difference in their magical prowess.
This is fine.
He had prepared himself for injuries from the start.
Muzark immediately dispelled his Shield. He had no mana to waste on a useless defense, especially when his mana pool was already inferior.
He lunged through the entrance, which had been blown open by the initial explosion. At the cost of a punctured arm, he managed to escape the room. The thick smoke pursued him like a demonic hand, beginning to encroach upon the hallway.
"Haha! Run all you want, you little rat!"
A mocking laugh echoed through the fog.
Muzark sprinted down the hallway and rushed down the stairs. The corridor on the lower floor was dead silent. With most of the Security Bureau officers either dead or hospitalized, the dormitory was completely deserted.
"Gurgle."
Beyond the hallway railing, a winged demon was hovering. A massive single eye embedded in its bulbous, spherical body rolled around, scanning the corridor like a security camera.
An eye capable of spotting prey anywhere.
He even deployed familiars.
Muzark used the railing for cover to creep closer. Then, springing upward, he cast Chain to bind the familiar. Yanking the dark links, he slammed the familiar onto the concrete floor.
"Screeech!"
In the next instant, black iron armor formed over Muzark's right hand. Its manifestation speed was incomparably faster than a month ago. His gauntleted fist smashed down on the familiar.
The massive eyeball ruptured, and its wings went limp.
Good. Minimal mana spent.
It was then.
Gurgle, click!
A familiar, guttural sound echoed through the empty hallway. The sound came from his left. He whipped his head around, but there wasn't a shadow of a demon in sight. Instead, a different object caught his eye.
A standard fire hydrant, common in any building.
That crazy bomb-loving bastard...!
Boom!
Intense heat and a shockwave erupted from within the fire hydrant. The point-blank explosion slammed into the Shield he had hastily deployed. By the time the smoke cleared, Muzark's left arm was half-charred.
"Pant, pant!"
He gasped for air, his mind racing.
Did he detonate it remotely the moment he confirmed my location?
From what he had gathered, there were two ways to detonate a Demon Bomb: physical impact, or a signal from the mad bomber. In other words, the entire building was rigged with CCTV and C4.
Setting it up wouldn't have taken long either. All he had to do was toss the Demon Bombs in plausible spots and station familiars nearby.
He really is a complete lunatic.
Enduring the searing pain in his left arm, Muzark smirked.
So that's how it is, huh?
Wherever a familiar is watching, there's a Demon Bomb.
And as long as I don't get spotted, those bombs are mine to take.
A land-dwelling flatfish dragging a trail of smoke behind him makes for an easy target.