Chapter 77
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: Thread (4)
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The name of the new identity I created was Bill.
It wasn't like Cedric's, where I'd meticulously crafted a backstory. This was just a fake persona whipped up out of necessity.
Still, I didn't go with anything too commonplace. Cedric had ordinary traits, so I made sure this one didn't overlap even there.
He looked like your average middle-aged man. Not too burly, with that unassuming vibe typical of a run-of-the-mill mage.
As Bill, I went looking for the insect handlers who dealt in assassination bugs.
Through a perfectly natural process, I got my hands on a list of twelve names—the buyers from five different handlers.
I tracked them down one by one right away. But I had no intention of just mindlessly killing them off.
All I needed was to cross-reference them with the traces from the gift box I'd found at the Academy.
In fact, my goal was to let rumors spread. Chatting up the handlers like it was nothing was part of that too.
While hunting down the twelve on the list, I finally found the first one whose traces matched the gift box exactly.
He was an ordinary human. At least on the surface.
A guy living alone in a rundown shack near the forest outskirts—not even in the slums.
He introduced himself as a lumberjack. What a joke.
A lumberjack who could afford dozens of assassination bugs? Hell, one who could even handle mana in the first place?
Ridiculous.
I hadn't expected some big shot anyway. Figured it'd be small fry at best.
But the others I'd checked so far hadn't even bothered with this level of pretense.
The lumberjack was already buried up to his neck in the ground. He'd resisted and used mana before going under, but hadn't put up much of a fight.
When I made the Bill identity, I'd faked traits for earth affinity and Crushing Pressure.
He wasn't just buried—he was feeling his whole body slowly squeezed in a vise.
"I-It was someone else's orders! They made me do it!"
It didn't take long for him to spill.
No one I'd tracked down so far had endured the terror of bones slowly cracking like that.
"Who gave the orders?"
"I don't know. I swear... They didn't tell me anything."
"Didn't tell you anything, but you followed orders anyway?"
"Th-they paid me..."
"And pretending to be a lumberjack out here? Their orders too?"
"Yes... Told me to hole up here for a while..."
"What's your real job?"
"Just back-alley thug stuff..."
I could guess without asking.
Just another lowlife punk from the underworld.
"You must've seen what they looked like, at least?"
"Wore a robe pulled low... Looked old, though."
"...An old man?"
I asked it casually. Something flashed in my mind, sharp enough to make my eyes widen, but I kept my face neutral.
"Yeah, beard and wrinkles on the chin. Definitely old."
That was the moment scattered bits of info in my head clicked together.
Because the info from Lina—the guy operating under the name John there—was described as an old man too.
His real name was Zmol.
"Anything else stand out?"
"Tall, I guess... Nothing else."
Even the height matched.
I'd chased the clues as far as they led. No other details beyond appearance, but the circumstances alone made Zmol a solid suspect.
"Know who Rosellin is?"
"No... Just some Academy student."
The trail ended there, as expected.
But I could just stitch it back together. That's why I'd been rampaging so openly.
Since I'd dug in so blatantly, anyone not involved wouldn't care—but anyone connected had to silence me.
Meaning this lumberjack ought to kill me right here.
But I wasn't going to kill him.
I'd turn that obvious expectation against them.
Because I didn't care if my identity got exposed.
Bill was disposable anyway.
I'd let this lumberjack live on purpose. He could blab about Bill all he wanted.
I released the pressure and pulled his body halfway out of the ground.
"I'll let you live."
"...Really?"
His face lit up noticeably.
"But you've got some things to do first."
"Huh? What do you mean...?"
#
Zmol.
One clue like "old man" wasn't 100% proof, but it fit way too perfectly to dismiss.
I figured he'd show up again.
First off, Garn had vanished.
The underling he'd sent to warn the guy tailing his crew had disappeared instead.
I'd hidden Garn's body elsewhere.
They wouldn't spot the death right away, but if he didn't return after a while, they'd suspect.
And with the string of insect handler incidents blowing up after that? They'd have to notice something off.
Anyone with a brain would realize they were being hunted.
I'd set up various things around the lumberjack's shack.
Various meaning a few artifacts acting as surveillance cameras—that was it.
Stuff I'd experimented with when making clones. Except these didn't move like living things; they were disguised as furniture that'd fit in a lumberjack's place.
Fixed-angle views and audio relayed back to me from afar.
Sure enough, I was monitoring the feed from a screen pretty far off.
Obviously, this level of surveillance wouldn't catch deep intel unless the old man showed up and did something.
Hell, it might not even be the old man—could be someone else.
'Gotta make them do something.'
Like leaving mana traces, for starters.
I didn't want a head-on clash. If a real Dragon Rank Transcendent like Zmol appeared, I'd be the one in trouble.
No matter how many trap orbs I'd made, I wasn't planning to face a Dragon Rank directly.
Plus, right now I only had one showy 7th Hierarchy spell to prove my rank—just for appearances.
I'd ended up specializing in trap magic by accident.
Outside of Professor Palrez, who taught me the long-term preservation spell I still used, Philip Deran was the only one who'd left me magic this useful.
Merin had helped too, sure, but compared to Philip Deran? Amateur hour. Apprentice level at best.
That's how much he'd influenced me.
'Pielberin...'
This time, I'd stick to the true meaning of traps.
Not the orbs I floated around Cedric, but real, planted traps.
Problem was, those could get spotted before triggering.
Especially by Dragon Ranks—they'd sense any static trap I could set now from a mile away.
So I went with mobile traps. More like, delivery traps.
Traps don't have to stay put, right?
The moment a Transcendent showed up at the lumberjack's—no traps around beforehand—I'd deliver some over.
I could make clones that moved like living beings, so delivering traps was a breeze.
'Won't make ones with overwhelming power.'
Even if I could make a one-shot kill, it'd be useless here. Just draw stronger enemies without intel.
I wanted information.
Traps like lethal explosions or instant kills were too similar to Cedric's anyway.
Philip Deran had made all kinds for castle defenses—not just destructive blasts that wiped enemies.
There were capture traps too.
'Not a ton, though.'
His affinity was heat-based to begin with. Assembly suited fortification, but most traps handled heat magic.
Heat was the same as Vinsen's trait. That's why he'd recruited him.
'Modifying for other affinities could work.'
Since I was using Bill, tying it to earth traits would fit.
The orbs around Cedric were the strongest hodgepodge I could make back then, but now with higher hierarchy access, I had options to consider.
Anyway, if it was really Zmol, I'd settle for mana traces.
If not Zmol...
'No skin off my back.'
If it was some lesser Transcendent, my odds of capturing them shot way up.
I crafted traps while glancing at the screen nearby.
If he was too cautious and sniffed something off, staying away... Well, too bad. End of story.
I could chalk it up to trap-making practice before Rosellin graduated.
'She might have more info.'
She had to know something, or she wouldn't have gone to Cedric.
About a week passed.
Longer than expected, so I made more traps than planned—and could pick the best ones.
Which would be best for capture...
That's when it happened.
Kiiiek—
The creak of door hinges. I was holed up in a makeshift shelter deep in the woods, so not around me.
I turned to the screen.
It showed the door opening and the lumberjack scrambling toward it.
Through the widening gap, a robed silhouette emerged.
But no beard or aged face.
'Sent someone else after all?'
A twinge of disappointment, but fine.
Plan didn't change. This was one of the scenarios I'd prepped for.
Target just shifted a bit.
'I'll catch them for sure.'