Setting the Bait
Sensational headlines plastered every portal site.
Overnight, the entire network was plastered with this single murder case. It was a stark contrast from the very beginning to the massacre of the loan sharks, which had been buried without ever being made public.
― I heard photos of the scene were uploaded to an anonymous site, Yen's voice echoed in Muzark's mind. Even before the report reached the Administration. By the time they realized what was happening, it was already impossible to clean up.
Although the post in question was quickly deleted, the damage was already done. The details of the case, including the victim's identity, spread like wildfire, and all sorts of speculative rumors began circulating throughout the city.
Among the countless questions, the most heated topic was this:
Was this the work of a mage again?
― They call it a question, but everyone seems convinced, Yen continued. Word is, there were signs of forced entry at his home. It was a luxurious mansion, so it's hard to believe the security system was lax.
“Since it's come to this, it'll be hard to keep the investigation private,” Muzark muttered.
― Especially since Oliver Welton was well-known for his anti-mage sentiments. With such a sensitive issue involved, the media will tear into it until they've sucked every last drop of sensationalism dry. Regardless of the truth.
A prominent non-mage, famous for his anti-mage stance, had been murdered, leaving only his head behind as if to make an example of him. On the surface, the cause and effect of the incident seemed all too obvious.
Anti-mage sentiment is going to boil over.
Even Muzark, who had only been in the city for a month, could predict the massive ripples this incident would send through society.
Just as Aiden had said, regardless of what the actual truth was.
If any more victims appeared, it would be completely out of hand. The Administration would have to stake everything on this. Indeed, Aiden had been summoned early this morning to attend an emergency meeting.
― Naturally, the Administration has decided to deploy a large number of investigators, Aiden's voice came through the communicator.
“Does that include us?” Muzark asked.
― For now. However, I plan to work closely with Alexei.
An investigation of this scale, involving numerous investigators.
If outsiders got too involved, it was highly likely to cause confusion and friction. Unless they possessed magic specifically useful for investigation, Muzark and Yirang were strictly combat specialists.
― I want you to take Yirang and continue guarding Silveira Carvalho. If this isn't a one-off incident, the other party attendees are highly likely to be the next targets.
“Though he was technically targeted first,” Muzark pointed out.
No matter how one looked at it, the two incidents were connected. For two people who knew each other from the same gathering to be attacked within a single day was far too coincidental.
“Did you get anything out of the guy we caught yesterday?”
― He was a hitman hired with cash. He claims he knew nothing about Oliver Welton's case. His statement says he received his instructions and payment from his employer through a coin locker at the station.
Certainly meticulous.
Perhaps someone other than Silveira had also received a threatening letter. By now, Aiden or the other investigators would have checked on that themselves.
“Then I'll focus on the guard duty.”
― I'll contact you as soon as there's any progress.
As soon as the call ended, Muzark let out a deep sigh.
“No matter where you go, people are always the problem.”
― Why? Starting to think the Redline was easier? Yen teased.
“In this regard, yes. Back there, all I had to do was track them down and beat them up.”
The sheer simplicity of problem-solving was one of the few advantages of that wasteland. Here, on the other hand, the complex web of different social classes and conflicting interests was enough to give him a headache.
But that wasn't all.
“But you know... Ah, I shouldn't be thinking like this.”
― Thinking like what?
“On the flip side, I keep thinking of this as an opportunity.”
Muzark spoke in a low voice.
“The high-and-mighty investigators will handle all the tedious detective work, while I happen to be in a position that's easy to target. Plus, the public's attention on this is incomparably higher than some drug trafficking case.”
― And?
“I think it's the perfect setup to rack up some achievements.”
Though he had somehow ended up playing the role of a cop ever since his days in the Redline, Muzark was by no means a righteous man. He was simply faithful to his own goals.
Muzark's goal lay far higher than this.
To climb to the top, he needed achievements.
“I mean, it's not like I don't feel bad that someone died. But if everything is perfectly peaceful, I'd have to rot here for years. That just won't do.”
The Orangeline was merely a stepping stone.
― Wow. You're a total piece of trash, aren't you? Yen chuckled.
“Am I really that bad?”
― But you know what?
A snicker echoed in his mind.
― I was thinking the exact same thing.
“It's very comforting to know I have a fellow piece of trash with me.”
Of course, he wasn't so depraved that he was actively praying for people to die. If the case ended through the investigators' efforts alone without any more victims, he would be genuinely relieved.
But if it didn't...
I'll step in when the time comes.
He was ready to throw himself into the fire at any moment.
For achievements, success, and the normalization of society.
Lamentably, things did not unfold in a desirable direction.
Before the investigation could even get on track, a second victim emerged.
“To be precise, we only just found him,” Alexei grunted. “The estimated time of death is the night of that damn charity party. If we go by when he actually died, it was even earlier than Oliver Welton.”
“Isn't that just a testament to the Administration's incompetence?” Aiden remarked dryly.
“Tsk. Can't argue with that.”
The victim was Jesse Penn, forty-five years old.
He had gone missing on the night of the charity party and was found dead two days later. Jesse Penn's body had been chopped into dozens of pieces, packed into vacuum-sealed bags enchanted with deodorizing magic, and stuffed inside a supermarket locker.
Although the news hadn't officially spread across the network yet, a few media outlets had somehow caught wind of it and were already churning out articles about a second victim, throwing in some mockery of the Administration for good measure.
Aiden and Alexei immediately checked the CCTV footage. Usually, criminals were conscious of cameras when committing a crime, but this case was unusual in many ways.
“He's caught right here on camera. Blatantly putting the bags into the locker.”
“At first glance, it's not the same culprit. The build is completely different.”
The Oliver Welton case had also been captured on camera—the figure of an intruder entering the victim's mansion. Yet, despite having footage, the investigation hit a wall.
“Ugh, if we can't even find this guy, I might as well flip the whole department upside down. No matching data? What kind of bullshit is that? I don't care if he was wearing a mask, how is there still absolutely no trace of him?”
“We have to assume some kind of magic was at play.”
“But the footage is too clean for there to have been any magical distortion.”
Despite scouring the Administration's citizen database and archives, the culprit's identity remained unknown. No signs of video manipulation or magical residue were found, leaving them completely in the dark.
Fortunately, there was one more clue in Jesse Penn's case.
While the perpetrator of Oliver Welton's murder had vanished without a trace after leaving the mansion, the killer of Jesse Penn had been captured on multiple cameras. Based on the footage, they could trace his escape route.
His final destination was a waste disposal plant on the outskirts of the city.
“Cough, hack! What the hell is this...”
Inside an incinerator, the investigators found a charred corpse, burned black. The body was so badly damaged that an autopsy was meaningless, making it hard to consider a decisive clue.
“What do you think, Aiden?”
“I can't say for sure at this stage. There are too many possibilities.”
The killer might have faked his own death to go into hiding. Or perhaps he had been betrayed by his accomplice. Though there were no other eyewitness reports, he might have walked into the incinerator himself under the influence of illusion magic.
Without clear evidence, any theory was mere speculation.
Aiden rubbed his temples, trying to soothe his mental fatigue.
“Damn it. To think things would spiral this far in just two days...”
The existence of a mastermind behind these serial killings of non-mages was practically a given. Yet, the actual perpetrators remained unidentified, and their trails had gone completely cold.
The investigation was back to square one.
What on earth is happening here?
For the first time, Aiden felt it in his bones.
That a dark cloud had cast its shadow over the city without anyone noticing.
Four days had passed since Oliver Welton's death was made public.
While a third crime had not yet occurred, the atmosphere in the city grew grimmer by the day. This was the result of the public focus shifting from a mere string of serial murders to a conflict between social classes.
Some media outlets ran front-page stories highlighting the victims' past activities in advocating for non-mage rights. Excerpts from their past interviews were exaggerated and quoted out of context, accompanied by provocative phrases designed to stir up hostility toward mages.
Muzark felt as though he was finally seeing the city's true face.
“I thought this was just an ordinary city. Guess not.”
― What part of this is ordinary? Yen scoffed. If you ask me, this place is just as deformed as the Redline.
Though the concept of equality might have been familiar to Baek Si-woo back when he lived in Korea, this place was an Empire. And having experienced the Redline, Muzark knew all too well what kind of position a 'mage' held in this Empire.
In the Orangeline, the status of non-mages was excessively high.
It was only natural for resentment to exist. As one could tell just by listening to Yen's struggles, the Empire was full of people who had been treated unfairly by mages. The Orangeline was likely no different.
But expressing that resentment was a different matter entirely.
This country was built on inequality.
The Empire was sustained by magic.
Mages weren't just nobles with good family backgrounds; they were the lifeblood of the nation. The residents of the Redline, who felt the dangers of the 'outside' firsthand, understood the blessing of magic to their very bones.
On the other hand, the Orangeline was not as harsh as the Redline. Nor was magic as overwhelmingly advanced here as it was in the upper regions, which meant the people here failed to realize the most fundamental truth:
Without magic, there is no Empire.
A society that Baek Si-woo should not find familiar.
They were crying out for equality in a society that was inherently destined to be unequal.
I doubt this is the end of it.
It was unclear what destination the culprit envisioned for this incident. However, Muzark was certain that it was still too early for them to stop. Ideological criminals were almost always extremists.
His prediction proved correct.
― That white car that just pulled out of the alley, Yen's voice rang in his head.
“The one in the back, license plate ZFD-651?” Muzark muttered.
― That's the third time we've seen it. No need to even look it up—it's probably stolen or something.
To Silveira and Yirang, who couldn't hear Yen's voice, Muzark seemed to be talking to himself. The two checked their side mirrors and showed contrasting reactions.
“Isn't that just a common car? Now, I'm not trying to look down on anyone, but expensive cars are definitely better. I heard the latest models even absorb the impact of a crash, haha. So...”
While Silveira suddenly began boasting about his car, Yirang silently cast a glance from the driver's seat. Even though Muzark had only mentioned the license plate, Yirang seemed to have caught on.
He's definitely got experience.
They had crossed paths with the same vehicle multiple times while driving. It sounded suspicious when pointed out, but actually noticing it was no easy feat. Unless it was a flashy supercar, it required a sharp eye.
Yirang's restraint in not speaking up and alarming the client was also commendable. If not for the fatal flaw of being unable to use magic, he would have been far more successful than he was now.
Anyway, let's take a look at his face.
Muzark activated his magic. A transparent ring overlaid his deep blue eyes, and his vision sharpened instantly. It was the Vision magic he had successfully memorized not long ago.
The effect was extremely simple.
In addition to night vision, it allowed him to see further and clearer.
Large build. Male. But I can't get a clear look at his face.
Because the driver was wearing a hat and a mask, Muzark couldn't see below his eyes. However, his physique was so massive that Muzark would easily recognize him if they ever crossed paths on the street.
― His movements are cautious, Yen observed. It doesn't look like he plans to make a move right away.
Muzark nodded.
Indeed. He wouldn't want to engage in a magic battle in a public place.
If the culprit's goal was simply to murder non-mages, there was no reason to fight a mage. And if their goal was to incite conflict between non-mages and mages, they would be even more reluctant to engage in a battle between mages.
A scenario where a mage died protecting a non-mage on a crowded street would be counterproductive to driving a wedge between the two classes. At most, it would only raise criticisms of incompetence due to a failed escort.
If they stubbornly insisted on assassination...
Then Muzark had a counter-strategy of his own.
“Let's head home early and get some rest today,” Muzark said.
“But I have a dinner appointment soon...” Silveira mumbled.
“Missing one meal won't kill you.”
“P-Please, let's not throw around words like 'kill' so lightly.”
Muzark added one more thing to the dejected client.
“And I'll request a couple more guards to reinforce our security.”
“Oh! Thank you. I'll finally be able to sleep with my legs stretched out tonight.”
Muzark smirked at the man's relief.
Time to set the bait.