Midnight Ambush
Night fell, casting shadows across the streets as the gas lamps flickered to life.
Even though the master of the house had already gone to sleep, Silveira's residence was bustling with activity.
"I will have to ask the two of you to handle the security from here."
"I don't know if this will even work. And even if it does, what do you two plan to do on your own?"
The Security Bureau had readily granted the request for reinforcements sent through Aiden.
The dispatched personnel consisted of two Fourth-class Investigators. Though they were relatively green and lacked experience, there was no need to worry. They were mages whose skills had been recognized enough to be selected as investigators.
However, as was typical of those who considered themselves elites, their attitude was not particularly cooperative. They clearly looked down on Muzark and Yirang, who were not official investigators.
The solution was simple.
"Are you two doubting Investigator Aiden's instructions?"
"Ah, no. That's not what we meant."
"We're just worried, that's all. Haha..."
Selling Aiden's name made them fall in line instantly.
"We brought you two here to ensure nothing goes wrong. Just hold down the fort for tonight."
Muzark said, turning back to look at Yirang.
"M-Muzark. Is... is this really okay?"
Yirang looked completely different from his usual self. Casting aside his usual stretched-out T-shirt and holy socks, he wore a dark brown felt hat and a high-end long coat.
From head to toe, he was dressed in Silveira's belongings.
They intended to throw out bait in plain sight. While Silveira himself would have been the ideal bait, they couldn't send their client into a death trap, so they had prepared a body double.
"It looks good. Since it's night, it'll be hard to tell at a glance."
"Why didn't you do it yourself instead of making me? You don't even treat me like your senior anymore."
"It couldn't be helped. You have a much more similar build to him, Senior."
Muzark gently nudged Yirang, who kept awkwardly adjusting his clothes, into the living room. Now that the disguise was complete, there was one last thing to confirm before they made their move.
"Yirang. Do you think that person from back then is involved in this?"
When Muzark heard that only Oliver Welton's head remained of his corpse, he had suddenly thought of the 'sword.' He recalled the story of the loan shark slaughtered by Yeonwol, and the blood-chilling aura of sword-qi he had felt firsthand.
At the mention of Yeonwol, Yirang's expression stiffened.
But he soon shook his head in denial.
"I don't think so. Leaving a severed head on a wall, or chopping up a body and stuffing it in a locker... that doesn't sound like her. Of course, that's just my personal opinion."
"What would Yeonwol do, then?"
"She'd just kill them and leave them there. Like a pebble on the side of the road."
He grimaced, a bitter look crossing his face as he recalled the past.
"Besides, they said the figure caught on the security cameras looked completely different, right? They say it could be doctored, but at least in my opinion, it's not her this time."
"Ah. No wonder you haven't complained about your stomach hurting today."
"Ahem."
There were two reasons why Yirang was cooperating without his usual grumbling. One was the significance of the case. If they caught the culprit red-handed, they were bound to receive a handsome reward befitting their contribution.
The other was confidence.
Having worked together on several cases, Yirang knew Muzark's capabilities well. Although Muzark was still severely lacking in raw technique, unlike Yirang, he possessed the undeniable advantage of magic.
In some ways, he's already better than me...
Subduing a criminal or two would be child's play.
He had judged that the returns far outweighed the risks.
"Let's wait thirty more minutes."
Muzark said, peering outside through a gap in the window blinds. The car that had been tailing them was nowhere to be seen, but someone was undoubtedly watching the area from somewhere.
"We start at midnight."
On the restricted rooftop of an apartment building, a man was peering through a pair of binoculars. Without averting his gaze for even a second, he had been watching the entrance of a specific building for hours on end.
Finally, his endless wait came to an end.
"..."
Under the dim, amber glow of the streetlamp that lit up at night, two figures walked out. The man watched dispassionately as the target looked around anxiously while his bodyguard kept a sharp eye on their surroundings.
He did have some doubts.
What purpose did a man whose life was in danger have to wander outside in the dead of night? And why had he brought only a single bodyguard? It was a highly suspicious setup to simply dismiss as a golden opportunity.
Even so, there was no reason not to take the bait.
Guards had already been assigned to the other attendees of the charity gala. Assassination had become virtually impossible. If he went into hiding now, the case would remain unsolved forever, but his employer's wishes were different.
—The contract is still active.
—Eliminate just one more.
The longer this dragged on, the more anxious the Security Bureau would become.
Realistically, right now was when their guard was at its lowest.
His current 'body' was special, so it wouldn't matter if he handled it a bit roughly.
The man immediately descended from the rooftop and climbed into a pre-arranged car. The interior of the vehicle reeked of blood—the lingering trace of the unfortunate owner who had met an untimely demise.
Once the target's car pulled away, the man followed after a brief delay. Muzark and Yirang, who had been keeping a close eye on their rear, quickly realized they were being tailed.
"They bit. It's a different car from this afternoon."
"Yeah, I see it too. They're keeping a cautious distance."
—How is it? Can you see his face from here?
Muzark activated his Vision magic and nodded. Because his night vision wasn't perfect, he couldn't see as clearly as he had during the day, but the build alone was enough to tell it was the same person.
Before long, the car left the city center and entered the suburbs. Even then, the pursuer did not close the distance, maintaining a gap that would allow them to turn around and flee at any moment.
"It seems they know we're baiting them, don't they?"
"Looks like it. Hmm, how far should we go?"
They hadn't set a specific destination.
Nor were there armed investigators waiting in ambush at a designated point. It was doubtful whether the investigators would even cooperate with such an uncertain plan, and above all, there was a high risk that the enemy would notice any large-scale movements beforehand.
It was difficult to come up with a brilliant strategy in just a single day. With limited personnel and equipment, they had focused solely on creating the most enticing setup possible.
To make it a situation where both sides felt they had a decent shot.
It was a highly speculative plan, designed for combat from the very beginning.
"Let's give them a bit more of an opening. First, let's pull out of this fork in the road and—"
It was then.
Vrooooom!
—Muzark, Shield!
The moment Yen spotted a van suddenly bursting out from a side street, she shrieked. The hastily deployed Shield enveloped Muzark's body.
Just as he went to throw himself over Yirang to protect him—
CRASH!
A massive impact slammed into the vehicle.
He had felt a similar sensation once before—when a Demon Bomb had exploded right in front of his face. Back then, he had blacked out instantly, only to wake up in excruciating pain.
But this was only similar.
—Are you okay? You're not dead, right?
"Yeah. Much better than last time."
Compared to then, his mind was perfectly clear and his limbs were fully functional. Though he felt sore all over, as if he had been beaten, it didn't hinder his movements.
"Yirang, you're not dead either, right?"
"Ugh..."
"Still kicking."
Looking to his side, Muzark saw Yirang with his face buried in the airbag. He was clearly out of commission, but he didn't seem to have sustained any fatal injuries.
Perhaps it was thanks to the performance of the expensive car Silveira had bragged about.
They certainly aren't going to make this easy.
Naturally, there was no way this was an accident. Muzark got out of the car and cast his gaze toward the van. Through the shattered windshield, the driver was motionless, though whether they were dead or merely unconscious was unclear.
The real problem started now.
*Screeech.*
Sure enough, a sedan pulled up right behind them. It was the car that had been tailing them all this time, testing the waters. The door opened, and a hulking, burly man stepped out onto the road.
In one hand, he held a cleaver stained with dried blood.
"Impressive. I didn't even know where we were going, yet they somehow got ahead of us and rammed our car."
It was impossible unless they were communicating in real-time to coordinate an ambush. Muzark couldn't even begin to guess how many people were involved in this case.
Is there only one main fighter?
In the end, they had gotten the matchup they wanted.
Even if, unintentionally, half of their own fighting force had been taken out of the equation.
This was Yirang's greatest weakness: durability. Since he couldn't use a Shield, he was utterly defenseless against unexpected damage. Whether by design or sheer coincidence, the enemy had struck his exact weak point.
I just have to do my part.
Muzark quickly tapped out a message to Aiden on his device. Since their location sharing was enabled for operational convenience, the investigators would arrive before long.
The victory condition was to either subdue the enemy or keep them pinned down.
*Thud, thud, thud!*
Knowing that dragging things out would work against him, the assailant lunged forward first. The already narrow gap closed in an instant. He possessed a swiftness that was hard to imagine from such a massive frame.
Muzark manifested his Cryptofetica and reached toward his shoulder. At that, Yen opened her mouth, and a crowbar slid out from within.
This was the practical utility of the demon known as the Inventor.
Muzark had not yet acquired a proper weapon. He had deemed it premature anyway, as he lacked the skill to wield one. For now, he treated weapons simply as 'tools'—an extension of his arm.
In a way, that was the most primal purpose of any weapon.
"Let's go, you fat bastard."
A black haze wrapped around the crowbar.
*CLANG!*
A sharp metallic screech echoed across the midnight road. As Muzark blocked the descending cleaver, a tearing pain shot through his palms. Even considering the man's massive build, his physical strength was absurd.
Given how he just lunged blindly, is he a physical enhancement type?
Pitting raw strength against him would only result in a loss.
Having made his decision, Muzark stepped half a pace to the left and let go of the crowbar. Carried by momentum, the assailant's upper body lurched forward. With his free hand, Muzark conjured his Chain and bound the man's ankles.
He yanked the chains hard enough to snap them, throwing the assailant off balance. Muzark pulled a second crowbar from Yen's mouth and swung it with all his might.
*CRACK!*
The moment he struck the back of the assailant's head—
What the...?
Muzark felt a strange sense of incongruity.
There was none of that split-second delay that usually occurred when a blow tore through a shield before making contact with the body. It felt as though he had struck bare flesh that had never been protected by a shield in the first place.
He frowned in suspicion. The assailant took a heavy step forward to steady his posture. This was not the reaction of a human who had just been struck with enough force to bend a steel crowbar.
*Creeeeak!*
The sound of grinding bones echoed from beneath the overcoat draped over his body like a cloak. His already massive frame swelled even further, and a thick plume of steam hissed out from behind his mask.
"Is that thing even human?"
—It's not human.
Yen spoke, her tone suggesting she had finally figured it out.
—It's a puppet. I knew there was something off about it.
"A puppet?"
—Look at its face.
The brief scuffle had knocked the assailant's hat off. His mask had also slipped sideways, revealing his features. Just as Yen had said, he was far from a normal human.
He had the texture of artificial skin, which would have been hard to discern on camera. Stitches ran across his scalp, and a metallic rod of unknown purpose was embedded deep into his forehead.
Yet, aside from those details, he was creepily identical to a human.
A pair of lifeless eyes stared straight at Muzark. While the puppet itself was expressionless, whoever was controlling it from afar was likely feeling quite differently. Perhaps they were cursing their bad luck.
One thing was clear: they had resolved to kill him. From beneath the puppet's overcoat, the furious whirring of machinery—a sound that had been silent until now—began to echo.
"So the bastard pulling the strings is our culprit."
First a bomber, and now a puppeteer.
Seriously, these mages are all so damn gloomy.
Muzark tossed aside the bent crowbar and pulled out a third one.
Clenching his left fist and gripping the crowbar in his right, he steeled his resolve.
"Bring it on, asshole."
He was going to show this cheap trickster what real magic looked like.