A Shadow from the Past

Aiden's eye twitched as he listened to the full report.

"So that's what happened."

On the surface, he had sent Muzark to resolve the case, only for him to make a pathetic retreat. Normally, Aiden would have spat out a harsh word or two, but this time was different.

"I apologize. This was entirely my mistake. I have no excuse."

—No, there's no need to apologize. I'm not really in a position to complain either. No matter how unreasonable the request was, I still ended up abandoning the job halfway.

Aiden was not dense enough to miss the underlying meaning beneath that generous response.

He's saying that if I keep making unreasonable demands, he'll sever ties with me.

It was a perfectly understandable reaction. Even if Muzark had received help in various ways, who would trust and follow a boss who constantly threw them into deadly situations? Unless they were in a master-servant relationship, that is.

"In any case, your judgment was correct."

Aiden said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"If you had been even a moment later, I don't want to think about what would have happened."

—Who on earth was she?

"Didn't Yirang tell you?"

—He was in terrible shape. I just sent him back for now.

"Understandable. You both went through a lot."

A fear so deeply engraved that just seeing a face hidden by a hat and mask was enough to terrify him. Considering Yirang's past, one couldn't blame him for overreacting.

"Her name is Yeonwol. If my eyes didn't deceive me, that is."

—That's an unusual name for the Empire. Yirang's is too.

"Some people still cling to the naming conventions of the old Eastern Empire. There's no ethnic discrimination in this day and age, so I don't really get it myself. I suppose it's their way of keeping tradition alive."

Even without conducting a fresh investigation, Aiden knew Yeonwol's background inside out. He knew what kind of family she was born into, how she spent her childhood, and what kind of person she had grown up to be.

Any investigator with over seven years of experience would.

"Yeonwol is a serial killer wanted across the entirety of Orangeline. Her past deeds alone make her utterly heinous, but the real issue is her status before she became a criminal."

—Her status?

"She was an investigator working for the Northorange Management Bureau."

Recalling the past, he scowled.

"Her rank was First-class Investigator. Back then, she was rivals with Shadia Drury, who was also a First-class Investigator. They called it a rivalry, but in truth, Yeonwol was generally rated higher."

That was back when Aiden had just started working under Shadia and earning his own evaluations. Since they operated in different cities, and Shadia's personality was strictly business, Shadia had never really gotten tangled up with Yeonwol.

There were only rumors.

"Everyone whispered that the two of them would soon ascend to Yellowline. In fact, the higher-ups had contacted them multiple times, and the Management Bureau treated it as a foregone conclusion, but..."

Then, the incident suddenly occurred.

"One day, Yeonwol slaughtered her own family. Every single one of them, including her young sibling."

—Out of nowhere? Why did she do that?

"Nobody knows the motive. There was only the result. It was caught clear as day on surveillance cameras, so it couldn't even be dismissed as a frame-up or a conspiracy. It was shocking enough to shake the entire city."

—And they still couldn't catch her?

"The Westorange Management Bureau strictly restricted other cities from intervening. I suppose they saw it as a disgrace and stubbornly insisted on handling it themselves."

The result of blindly throwing personnel at the problem was disastrous.

"She cut down the very investigators sent to capture her and vanished without a trace. Since then, slaughter cases suspected to be Yeonwol's handiwork have cropped up from time to time."

While Shadia was scouted and went up to Yellowline,

Yeonwol became a murderous fiend roaming Orangeline.

"Yirang is a surviving family member of one of her victims. But by some bizarre whim, instead of killing Yirang, Yeonwol took him in as her 'disciple.' I heard she dragged him around by force for several months."

—She butchered his family and then made him her disciple? Is she insane?

"Would anyone sane do such a thing?"

Yirang acquired his current skills while enduring abuse disguised as training. For him, it must have been a hellish experience, both physically and mentally.

"I happened to find Yirang after he barely managed to escape, and I took him in. That was over three years ago. I thought things had quieted down, but to think she would show up here in Eastorange..."

Furthermore, the Management Bureau's lukewarm response was concerning.

The investigator in charge didn't seem to think much of it.

There was a different investigator assigned to this case. Normally, Aiden would have been accused of stealing someone else's credit, but the circumstances had aligned perfectly.

Because Healthy Cash had attacked Yirang right in front of Aiden, he had a justification to intervene. The investigator in charge also showed no will to resolve it, so Aiden had handed the matter over to Muzark just to give him some experience.

Something smelled fishy.

He had thought it was merely a squabble between local factions at best.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

But an unexpected monster had suddenly burst onto the scene.

"...I'll look into things from my end from here on out."

—You're telling me to back off, then.

"There are people you can touch, and people you can't."

Yeonwol was clearly the latter. Even during her days as an investigator, she was counted among the strongest in Orangeline. If her skills had improved since then, calling her a disaster would not be an exaggeration.

Especially since the purpose behind her killings remained entirely unknown.

I need to make sure I don't cross the line either.

As a family man with mouths to feed, this was a burdensome case. Simply digging deeper carried the risk of putting himself in danger. He had to approach this with the mindset of being ready to pull out at any moment.

On another note, he was pleased with Muzark's judgment.

I'm glad he didn't bring up my name.

Sometimes bold, sometimes cautious. It was a virtue lacking in the twins, who were still ruled by their emotions, and Yirang, who was always slacking off. Muzark understood exactly what it meant to assist an investigator.

Even though things had gotten tangled, the objective had been achieved. In fact, one could say the outcome was favorable. The shock of facing Yeonwol would only accelerate Muzark's growth.

"I'll contact you in two days. I'll bring some simple work."

—Please do. And please take care of Yirang as well.

"Why don't you do it? You'll be working together for a while anyway."

—Uh, just in case, is there anyone else?

"Would you prefer the twins?"

A heavy sigh echoed from the other end of the receiver.

—I guess I'll have to pay him a visit with some beer.

"I'm glad ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to see you two are getting along."

Aiden chuckled.

By the looks of it, he'll adapt in no time.

Before long, the entire city would know.

The name of the mage who had appeared like a comet.

The wealth gap in Orangeline was starkly evident in the living conditions.

The housing for the poor consisted of cramped studio apartments or crumbling tenements at best. In terms ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of sheer living space, it could be considered worse than Redline, where empty houses were scattered everywhere.

Of course, Redline was a den of beasts where things were taken and lost by force, making the concept of "homeownership" virtually nonexistent. Yet, some of the poor might actually prefer life in Redline.

On the other hand, the residences of the upper class were integrated with various magical devices.

Spells that drastically reduced noise between floors, voice-activated switches, familiars that blocked intruders, and even delivery notifications—these were all magical conveniences that assisted in daily life.

However, the blessings of magic could sometimes work in reverse.

"Haaaaah..."

Inside a bathroom, a blonde woman let out a sigh heavy enough to sink the floor. *Click, click.* No matter how much she rattled the doorknob, it wouldn't budge. The locking magic had malfunctioned.

Latina Heindel, currently trapped in her bathroom for four hours.

A mage imprisoned in her own home? Is this for real?

If she had heard this story from someone else, Latina would have laughed at how foolish it sounded. But experiencing it firsthand was an absolute nightmare. She had held it in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for so long that tears were starting to prick her eyes.

"Seriously... *hic*. What a pathetic mess."

She had left her communication device in her room, so she couldn't even call for help. After struggling for a long time using her knowledge of magic engineering, only for every attempt to fail, she was completely exhausted.

She was genuinely worried.

What if I starve to death like this?

Mage Found Dead in Her Own Bathroom!

She could already envision the dizzying news headlines. If it were a tragic suicide, that would be one thing, but this was entirely different.

It would be a death beyond embarrassing—utterly humiliating.

If I really can't hold out any longer...

I'll have no choice. It's not like anyone is watching.

Just as she was reassuring herself that everything would be fine,

Zzap.

A faint electric current pulsed from the ring on her finger.

"G-Grandmother!"

The moment Latina detected the signal, her face lit up and she tapped the ring. Soon, gray ash seeped out from the ring's emerald setting, beginning to carve letters into the empty air.

Before she could even say anything, the sentences continued.

Friend?

She realized who was being referred to within three seconds. Latina didn't really have anyone else she could call a friend. Besides, there was only one person she had mentioned to her grandmother recently.

The kind man she met at the library.

The rookie mage from Redline.

"...Mr. Muzark?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

"T-Thank goodness."

Though they weren't particularly close, he was precious to her in his own way. At the very least, getting to know Muzark had given Latina one more thing to look forward to when visiting the library.

If he died, she would definitely be sad.

After a brief pause, as if in contemplation,

It was a warning she had heard since long ago. It was nothing new to Latina. Yet, today, the warning felt like a suffocating shackle. Still, she nodded her head as she always did.

"Yes. I know."

Even though it was a one-way communication tool, Latina always replied out loud. It was because she knew her grandmother's affection. Even if she acted strict, she was the person who cherished Latina more than anyone else.

Happiness.

It was an uncomfortable word, like a thorn caught in her throat. After she stared at the final sentence for a while, the ash was absorbed back into the gemstone, leaving no trace behind.

"Thank you, Grandmother."

Feeling somewhat melancholy for some reason, Latina idly toyed with her ring. This was how she usually soothed the loneliness that crept up on her from time to time.

Then, she suddenly snapped her head up.

"Ah, right!"

The bathroom door was still firmly shut. It seemed even her incredibly wise grandmother had no idea that her foolish granddaughter had been trapped in the bathroom for hours.

"Ugh... What do I do..."

Latina stared at the door for a long time.

As one week, then two weeks passed,

rumors began to spread throughout the city.

"Have you heard the news? Aiden Bern got himself a new hound."

"Ah, I heard he picked this one up from Redline?"

The underworld syndicates were the most sensitive to the appearance of a rookie. High-ranking investigators acted as crime deterrents by their sheer existence, and Aiden Bern was notoriously eccentric.

To be precise, his subordinates were more unusual than the man himself.

"A non-mage, two wet-behind-the-ears brats, and now he's added a country bumpkin to the mix. What a bizarre taste. Does he only get interested in people who are lacking somewhere?"

"His background might be unusual, but don't underestimate him."

A dealer trading illegal drugs in a warehouse swallowed hard.

"I saw him from afar, and he was nothing short of a mad dog."

"Tsk. Still just a dog at the end of the day—"

Thud!

A shadow dropped from the shelves like a swooping hawk. A man wearing gauntlets on both hands instantly grabbed the back of the dealer's head and slammed it into the floor.

"Looking at you bastards, a dog really is better than a human."

"Ack, *cough*! I-I surrender! Please, easy on the..."

"At least dogs don't do drugs."

The dealer, barely twisting his neck to look at his attacker's face, widened his eyes in shock.

"T-The Mad Mud Mage!"

"Fuck. Who the hell spread that nickname?"

One month after entering Orangeline.