A Cheap Threat
When he woke up, Muzark was not in his bed.
This place is...
The theater where the mysteries of magic breathed. Though he had only been here twice before, the wondrous sight was so deeply etched into his mind that he could never forget it.
His bewilderment at the sudden invitation lasted only a moment.
"Cute bastard."
Muzark let out a dry chuckle. Why else would Harmensales have summoned him without warning? He didn't even have to think to know the reason; it was painfully obvious.
He calmly took a seat in the audience.
The screen remained pitch black. When he tilted his head back, countless stars in the open sky poured down a rain of brilliant, multicolored light.
How long had he spent staring blankly up at it?
As if a breaker had been tripped, the starry sky suddenly lost its luster. The fireflies that had been floating cheerfully around the seats held their breath all at once.
Whirrrr—
The projector began to cast its light onto the screen.
The screen was dyed pure white. But it was only white. No video played; only the empty sound of the projector's film reel spinning echoed hollowly through the theater.
Muzark leaned back against his seat and looked to his left.
"What are you doing?"
In the seat next to him, separated by a single empty space.
— ...
A mass of dark red smoke had taken shape there, though he couldn't tell exactly when it had appeared. Unlike its previous grand appearances, its size had shrunk drastically.
As if it were trying to pass for an ordinary human.
Harmensales stared at Muzark. Within the smoke, glowing yellow eyes flashed wickedly. Their gazes clashed in the air, conducting a silent conversation.
To Muzark, Harmensales was a connection almost as old as Yen. Though it had been less than three months in actual time, there was no one else he was so intricately entangled with in so many ways.
They had maintained an uncomfortable cohabitation as contractor and contracted. Every time a deal was struck, their connection grew stronger. Perhaps because of that, Muzark could feel various 'emotions' bleeding through right now.
Muzark summed them all up in a single phrase.
"You know the term 'an old man's greed,' right?"
Clinging to desire even in old age.
"I don't find you pitiful, nor do I feel sorry for you. I don't even know what kind of creature you really are. You might have peeped at every single detail inside me, but I haven't had that luxury with you."
A high-ranking demon and the Apostle of Knowledge. He knew nothing about it beyond what was publicly known. Harmensales had never shared a single thing about himself.
It wasn't an exchange; it was one-sided observation.
"To me, you just look like an old geezer who's lived at least several hundred years, throwing a tantrum because he doesn't want to die. Is there some monumentally important reason why you can't kick the bucket? Because I sure as hell don't see one."
Of course, growing old didn't mean one became indifferent to death. In fact, history was rife with cases of the elderly becoming obsessively fixated on immortality.
And the ending was always, without fail, disastrous.
Would a world with magic be any different? He might have achieved youthfulness, but he was not immortal. Even objects wore down and crumbled; an undying living being simply could not exist.
The final moment came for everyone eventually.
"Anyway, don't feel too wronged. It's not like we were ever friends or partners. If you think back to how we started, you'll understand immediately."
Muzark snorted.
"You told me to sign a contract if I didn't want to die. It was incredibly pushy, wasn't it?"
So,
"It's only fair that I get to decide how this ends."
There was no room for negotiation.
He delivered his firm stance. Harmensales did not utter a single word to the very end. However, his rage manifested in a way other than language.
Crackle...!
The fallen crumbs of light began to rise.
With every spark, they swelled in size, transforming into pale blue ghost lights. In the sky where the starlight had vanished, a meteor shower left blood-red trails, painting a mock sunset.
An image flickered onto the screen. Yen, Shadia, Aiden, the twins, and even the deceased Public Security officers appeared, screaming like fiends.
Before long, the theater had transformed into a blue and red hellscape.
A sight that would have undoubtedly overwhelmed him in the past.
But now, it only felt laughable.
Because it proved Harmensales truly knew nothing about humans.
"I don't know if you realize this, but the more you do this, the more certain I become."
Muzark rested his elbow on the armrest and propped up his chin.
"That you're absolutely desperate."
If the demon had just quietly sent him back, he might have actually worried. Does he have some trump card? Maybe I'm being led right into this vile demon's trap...
But seeing this temper tantrum, it seemed the demon had lived his long life in vain.
Muzark watched the screen with a bored expression. The twins were weeping tears of blood, cursing him. They shrieked as if he were their parents' murderer, but it failed to move him.
You guys aren't even that close to me in real life.
Just as he was thinking what a shoddy piece of fiction this was.
He glanced sideways, only to find that Harmensales had vanished at some point. Soon after, the projector clicked off. As the flames died down, the theater was swallowed by complete darkness.
And then, and then.
When Muzark woke up, he was drenched in cold sweat. It was an unpleasant awakening. Feeling a tightness in his chest where his Magic Circuit lay, he quickly grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it down.
Though the clogged sensation remained, a chuckle escaped his lips.
"For a threat, that was a pretty pathetic attempt."
It was practically on the level of begging for his life.
After getting ready, Muzark officially began his patrol of the Redline. His mode of transport was the sole remaining compact car belonging to Public Security. His companion for the trip was Rio, one of the twins.
"You two don't always travel together, then."
"Of course not. We're not a combo meal."
Muzark had actually thought of them that way.
Since he had only ever seen the twins together, seeing one without the other felt inexplicably empty.
"Must be disappointing that it's me instead of Luca."
"Why would that be disappointing?"
"You know why. Luca really likes you, doesn't she?"
"Um. I won't say I didn't know, but..."
Muzark let his voice trail off awkwardly.
"Why? Do you dislike her?"
"Of course not. Why would I dislike someone who likes me?"
"Then what is it?"
"It's just a tiny bit overwhelming."
Rio snorted, looking somewhat displeased.
"It's not like she seriously wants to start a relationship with you or anything. You know how it is. Like a fan following a celebrity? More like watching from a step back."
"I know. That's why it's overwhelming."
Unless you were a celebrity or at least a YouTuber, when would you ever experience someone being a fan of yours? It was a kind of goodwill he had never encountered in his life, which made it somewhat uncomfortable.
"Besides, she's not even twenty yet, so it feels a bit... awkward. It's a strange feeling where I'm uncomfortable but also don't want to shatter her illusions. I've always had a soft spot for kids."
Rio chuckled, finally understanding.
"Come on. How much of an age gap could there possibly be between us?"
"Probably more than you think."
"How old are you anyway?"
"I don't know, kid."
He really didn't know.
Baek Si-woo was twenty-five. On the other hand, Muzark's age was roughly in his early twenties. According to his license, he was twenty-three, but that was only because Shadia had registered the random birthdate he had made up on the spot.
"Is it even possible to not know your own age?"
"It's surprisingly common in the Redline."
"Ah, I guess that makes sense. You said you didn't have an ID card either, right?"
Even his family relations were unknown.
Public Security might have already investigated it, but they deliberately paid it no mind. They avoided mentioning it altogether, knowing that digging too deep would only cause trouble.
And even now, it hadn't come back to bite him. Considering he had been kidnapped to the mine alone and no acquaintances had ever come looking for him, he was highly likely an orphan with an extremely narrow social circle.
Or he might have been a complete vagrant.
A common archetype scattered all over the Redline.
For someone who had taken over another person's body, it was a highly convenient city.
"Is Luca patrolling Eastred?"
"For now, yes. We can't say it's one hundred percent safe."
"I see. Thanks."
"It's just what the Professor ordered us to do."
She was likely guarding the hospital in Eastred. No matter how young Luca was, she was still an Orangeline mage. An attack by mere outlaws wasn't even worth worrying about.
Rio glanced at Muzark, who was sighing in relief.
Stupid Luca. I told her not to do useless things.
In truth, the reason Rio had accompanied Muzark was because Luca had badgered him into it. She had told him that since they would be heading to the Orangeline together soon, he should drop his aloof act and try to get closer to Muzark.
But in his own mind, Rio was absolutely not some edgy try-hard. He simply chose his companions carefully because forming bonds with others only made a person soft...
Still, he's a decent guy.
There seemed to be nothing wrong with his character. He had proven his ability by taking down the bomber all by himself. And though Rio didn't really want to admit it, the guy wasn't bad-looking either.
He was 'un-mage-like' in a good way.
Though that would probably change once they moved up to the higher regions.
"I hope you stay like this."
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
Rio replied curtly and leaned his head against the window.
"Your hand hasn't fully healed yet, right? If it gets too hard, let me know. I'll do it."
"You don't even know how to drive."
"Are you driving because you know how?"
"I learned by watching."
It was a flimsy excuse, but Muzark remained confident. In truth, there were minor differences in the vehicle's structure and controls, making his awkwardness look like a beginner's clumsiness.
"...I don't mean driving. I mean the list. The merit farming. I can take care of them, and we can just report that you did it. Since you're injured, the Professor will understand."
The purpose of the order to sweep out the criminals was solely to build up Muzark's achievements. It wasn't intended to test his skills at this point.
"Thanks for the offer, but no."
But Muzark flatly refused.
"It's not like it's that hard."
He had no desire to dump the burden of killing onto a kid just because one of his arms was injured, and besides, his sights were already set far beyond the Redline.
It wouldn't take long.
Westred General Hospital.
Flickering lights cast a precarious glow down the hallway. Bloodstains were caked everywhere. Clear drag marks lined the floor, and bloody handprints were stamped vividly on the walls.
The metallic stench of blood had long since overpowered the hospital's characteristic smell of formalin. Although no residents had approached the hospital for nearly two months, the blood had never dried.
"Heh, hehehe. The end is coming. The end..."
A man muttered to himself as he walked down the corridor. In his hand, he held a human ankle. A corpse with its tongue lolling out dragged helplessly behind him, its cheek scraping against the floor.
The hospital was the man's castle.
Whenever he was bored or hungry, he would go out, grab whoever he could find, and enjoy a pleasant time with them. Other outlaw groups had tried to come here, but most of them never left in one piece.
Public Security had long since abandoned the area. The Gate Bureau guarding the West Gate had barricaded themselves in, cutting themselves off from the city.
This meant Westred had lost any means of seeking help from the higher regions. Since the Gate Bureau consistently filed reports stating 'no issues,' no investigators were ever dispatched.
It was a lawless zone beyond the reach of the state, despite technically being part of the Empire's territory. Turf wars broke out as naturally as breathing, humans were bought and sold for scraps of junk, and occasionally, 'monsters' appeared.
"What a dreadful neighborhood."
At the sudden voice, the man spun around.
Under the flickering light, eyes as deep as the ocean gleamed.
"I can't even muster any sympathy. Just how terribly did this place behave for them to quarantine the gate? The civil servants barricaded inside the gate with nowhere to go are a thousand times more pitiful."
Meeting that icy gaze, the giggling man's face suddenly regained a semblance of reason. A benevolent smile spread across his lips, instantly shifting the atmosphere.
"For what purpose have you come to our church's sanctuary?"
"Sanctuary, my ass. You're just squatting in a hospital."
"Does its past use really matter? This is a stronghold rightfully claimed through struggle by our Eschatological Gospel Mission. Regrettably, much blood had to be shed."
Muzark raised an eyebrow.
"Eschatological Gospel what?"
"Oh! Are you interested in our faith?!"
"Do I look like I am?"
"Before long, the apocalypse will begin outside the walls. The demons—the hideous and terrifying Satan—will rise and tear down the walls. We, at the very bottom, will be the first to be trampled! Thus, I sought to give my lambs a brief moment of peace of mind..."
"I told you, I don't care."
He scratched his ear, then tilted his head.
"Lambs? I didn't see anyone else but you."
"Pardon? Haha. That cannot be. Seventeen of our congregation live here together. Though our surroundings are a bit humble, everyone lives in contentment. Are they not truly pure of heart?"
"I only saw corpses on my way in."
The moment Muzark casually tossed that out, the man's face contorted.
"...You are Satan."
"Huh?"
"You... you slaughtered my innocent congregation! You filthy demon!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
While Muzark stood there dumbfounded, Rio spoke up as if he had expected this.
"Why are you even talking to a monster?"
"You're right. Just wasted my time."
A monster. It was neither a metaphor nor an exaggeration.
Holes suddenly tore open beneath the man's jaw and across his cheeks, spurting thick, viscous blood. His grotesquely swollen limbs were undeniably no longer human.
"What is that? What's happening to him?"
"Looks like a Fiend."
"A Fiend?"
"It's a mutation caused by a violent rejection of contaminated mana. It's a rare magical disease that mages get, where a human transforms into a magical creature."
Crazy. Disgusting.
"In exchange for losing their minds, they become incomparably stronger—"
"Vengeance! I shall avenge my lambs!"
Before Rio could finish his explanation, the Fiend lunged. The fluid soaking its entire body began to bubble and boil. Corrosion set in wherever it touched, and pus seeped deep into its scalp.
Muzark, thoroughly disgusted, thrust his gauntlet forward.
"Gack!"
Like a cartoon character, the Fiend spun twice in midair before crashing to the ground. Two front teeth rolled pitifully across the floor. Froth bubbled from his newly emptied mouth.
And he never got back up.
"In exchange for losing their minds, they become what?"
"...Never mind."
Rio smacked his lips, looking sour.