Hierarchy
Hierarchy
"That fucking idiot. Does he think he's some kind of mage or something——"
Ppagak.
Along with a horrific cracking sound of a jawbone shattering, the man collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Goddammit!"
The man who had guided them through the alley pulled the trigger, but Emul's new body had already reached him.
Taang, pusiiiik-.
The bullet spun helplessly on his palm. Witnessing that sight, the man dropped his pistol and quickly raised both hands.
"H-hehe. I'm sorry. I surrender. Please, spare my..."
Ppeoeok. Watching the man collapse while clutching his solar plexus, Emul muttered without even looking back.
"I don't think that's a good choice."
"...Fuck off. You weren't going to spare me anyway. You look like you've entered the tail end of Gamhwa, so the world looks easy, huh?"
Emul, reacting to the unknown term, tilted his head slightly.
A woman, tense to the max, was aiming a loaded sawed-off shotgun.
"It's not like I can't spare you."
"Bullshit... Is it really 'living' if your jaw is shattered, you're drooling, or your stomach is crushed and you're just barely hanging on?"
"Normally, I would have cleaned you up the moment you were dragged here, but... you should consider it that you saved those guys. Choose. Die together, or live."
The woman, deep in thought, slowly lowered the muzzle to the floor.
"Ha, fuck. I thought you were just a brat, but you're a psycho in human skin. ...So, what do you want?"
Emul, who had turned his back to face her, asked.
"Gamhwa, the word you mentioned. I want to know about it in detail."
"Bullshit. It's not like this is an exam. What a weird joke..."
Kkigigigigik-.
A bone-chilling sound of metal twisting echoed through the alley.
Soon, when Emul opened his clenched hand, the bullet, which had been flattened and compressed into a chip-like shape, fell out.
Watching the woman who was frozen and unable to say a word, Emul replied in a low voice.
"I've never joked."
*
"W-wait. Didn't you say you'd spare me? If you spare me, I'll do something good for you. Hmm? My tongue is so smooth. Once you get a taste, you won't be able to turn back, you know?"
"I won't kill you. You'll just be in pain enough to die."
"You son of a bi——"
Ppeoeok. Emul, having turned away from the drooling, unconscious criminal, exited the alley.
The pain of ribs breaking is truly hard to express in words.
Even for Emul, who was used to pain, all he could do was groan, so imagine how they felt.
He unconsciously stroked his side and recalled the information he had obtained.
'Hierarchy, huh... Does it mean that whether you're a mage or not, all paths lead to one?'
The word 'High Rank' that Camellia mentioned during their meeting in the sewer. And 'Gamhwa' that the woman who just fainted brought up.
At the center of it all existed a ranking called 'Hierarchy'.
Starting from the stage called Gamhwa, all the way to the realm beyond humanity called Janhwa.
'The point is that they divide strength into six stages.'
It must be the result of reflecting the psychology of people who basically like to divide things into grades.
'Gamhwa (Balhwa) is the first stage. It means beginning to perceive one's ability... But the criteria are incredibly vague.'
For example, if you're on par with portable firearms, it's the second stage, Balhwa. If you can easily deal with that group, it's the next stage, Donghwa.
From then on, the comparison targets are tactical weapons like missiles, so it wasn't entirely vague either.
The problem is that the measure of strength is focused on firepower.
In a fight in the real world, what matters in the end is who survives.
Just as Emul survived the Cyber Psycho who raided the Sludge Factory.
'That guy was definitely stronger than me.'
Not self-deprecation, but an objective judgment. Even comparing just the total amount and density of Qi, there would be at least a one-stage difference.
Even so, the one breathing at this moment is Emul.
Having enjoyed the stale air of the Undeveloped Area to his heart's content, he walked around for a while, showing off his heavy pockets.
How much time had passed like that?
Uung-.
His thigh vibrated briefly.
Emul, who had been about to throw a punch, retracted his fist and took out his terminal.
[ I am deeply grateful for your generous understanding. Would you be able to come to the coordinates shared below? If it is not convenient, you do not need to push yourself. ]
A reply came from Camellia after a few hours.
Since he himself had replied two days later, he should probably take this tug-of-war into account.
Emul, shoving the terminal into his pocket, said to the man who had been slowly backing away.
"Take a hit before you go."
"I don't wa——"
Before he could even hear the answer, Emul drove his fist into the man's solar plexus and turned away.
It was to refill the terminal with the cash he had withdrawn.
He went to an ATM like before, tapped the screen, and poured in all the chips he was holding.
[ 6.87 million chips deposit complete. ]
An amount that had increased from the 5 million chips he had withdrawn. The source was, naturally, the pockets of the idiots who had targeted Emul.
[ Thank you for using our service. ]
Once the deposit was finished, the bank logo appeared along with the cliché guide text.
'A winged snake. That's a unique taste.'
Emul, mocking the bizarre artistic sense of the future, headed to the main road to catch a taxi.
Because the meeting place Camellia wanted wasn't a place he could walk to.
His gaze suddenly turned downward.
"Hmm."
Wigs and lenses can be taken off, but the difference between his usual attire and style is significant.
Clearly distinguishing himself would reduce the risk of his identity being identified.
Emul, who finally bought a hooded coat at a nearby clothing store, only then caught a taxi.
[ Please set your destination. ]
He entered the address written in the message into the setting screen, which he was now used to.
Wiing-.
Along with the nearly silent motor sound, his back pressed into the seat.
'...I should put the wig in the coat's inside pocket. If I'm not careful, it'll look like I'm carrying around a severed head.'
Having tidied up the tools used for the disguise, he finally removed the artificial scar.
Even if the inside of the vehicle is being recorded, an ordinary dashcam wouldn't be able to capture it.
Leaning back against the backrest and closing his eyes, he looked inside himself.
A cold magical power wriggling like a heartbeat.
Compared to last night when there wasn't even a twitch, it's a remarkable achievement. It must be proof that his Qi level is catching up to his magical power.
'It's not perfect, but this is enough.'
The disadvantage of not being able to finely control the output still remained, but it wouldn't be a big problem.
Because Emul wasn't going to District 51 to engage in a fierce battle.
And even if something unexpected happens, he can take care of himself.
'But why District 51? Leaving all those other districts alone... Maybe it's just because it's close to her house.'
He stared at the display placed in front of the seat. The vehicle's real-time movement path projected on the map.
As they got closer to the meeting place, a large cavity painted in navy blue revealed itself.
The place name 'Academy City' written briefly in the center. There is no other data provided.
A forbidden zone that taxis wandering the Outer Zone cannot enter, and the place where the woman named Camellia lives.
Looking forward to the gift Rahul would bring soon, Emul popped a painkiller into his mouth.
Among the zones of the Outer Zone, District 51, where white snow is at least fluttering.
Perhaps due to the influence of being adjacent to Academy City, which has created an artificial climate, sleet is falling.
Tudududuk.
Falling ice pellets tapped on the top of her head under the optical camouflage hood.
Despite the loud music in the surroundings, the sound of the ice pellets felt strangely loud.
"...Hoo."
Her lungs tingling from the cold air of midwinter. Camellia spurred on her lagging footsteps.
If she were to be late for the appointment time, she would have no face to see that man.
It's a meeting based on a transaction that both sides agreed to, but a High Rank mage's time cannot be bought with money.
Although there are sometimes fools who are tempted by wealth, the man she is going to meet now was not that type of person.
'Cold-headed and cruel.'
It's true that he is the benefactor who saved her, but there was no reason for him to deal with the two brother mages who attacked her.
Perhaps, wasn't it just because they were annoying?
Such a guess is plausible, but she didn't want to think in a bad direction.
Perhaps cold reason and gratitude toward her benefactor are clashing.
She can't know right now.
Perhaps never.
"...Ugh."
Camellia, frowning, gently stroked her left face.
A cheek that was bruised blue, beyond just being flushed red. The wound ached as the cold wind swept past.
The hand, large compared to her face, had left scars even on her bright red lips.
It seems she gets hurt often these days. As she thought that, she had already neared the meeting place.
Confirming that there was fortunately no one there, she pushed the iron door to the side.
Kkigigik.
The rusted slide groaned as if it were being annoyed.
Soon, in the fully opened interior, faded machines were left sitting there.
An abandoned warehouse in the Outer Zone that one of Camellia's few friends had handed over for a cheap price.
Since it's said to be quite old, there's no worry about strangers coming by.
Camellia, who approached the machine, reached out to brush off the accumulated dust.
Broken casino slot machines left neglected with the power off.
Even if she cleans it up, isn't it just scrap metal that has become useless anyway? Self-deprecating like that, she sat down demurely without minding the dirt.
The soft light flowing in through the slightly opened door gap and the noisy sounds of District 51.
Camellia unconsciously hunched her shoulders at the cold air seeping in riding on those sounds.
The hood, which has technology added to hide her appearance from others, also has a proper insulation function.
Even so, she feels the cold.
It wasn't just because her shallowly exposed face was cold.
It's not just her skin that needs warmth.
Camellia already knows that there is no one she can share such stories with.
If she confided in a close friend, she would feel relieved, but paradoxically, she can't talk about it because they are close.
Because she didn't want to make a precious person share the weight that she had to bear entirely on her own.
The fate of one who inherited the bloodline of the Antera family.
Full Bloom.
The sin of being the only one born as a woman after her ancestor, and the burden she must rightfully bear.
Although it seems too light to be the price for enjoying the privileges as the only daughter of a prestigious magic family.
Camellia, the person in question, hit her limit.
She could endure the criticism of her relatives, and even the magic design that had been near a standstill for years.
Her only blood relative and the head of the family.
The frost wind raised by her father was more than enough to extinguish the faint spark she had barely managed to protect.
"...Hoo."
Camellia blew her breath onto both palms.
The warm breath caressed her frozen cheeks for a moment, but it disappeared like scattering smoke.
Was it said that life is like a candle in the wind?
That maxim she heard in passing during a liberal arts class had been echoing in her head since two days ago.
If the candle has gone out, what on earth should she do?
Now she had vaguely realized the answer to that question.
That is why.
Before putting everything down.
Camellia came to this place to take responsibility for breaking the deal.
Because she couldn't bring shame to her family due to her irresponsible actions.
If the High Rank mage poured his anger entirely on her, that would be fine too.
To be engulfed in magic of an immeasurable level and disappear without any sensation.
"...Because I don't like pain."
At the same time as Camellia muttered, a cool breeze blew in with a 'whoosh'.
"No one likes pain."
That was how he appeared.
High Rank mage, Zen.
She couldn't sense him this time either. How far away is he? Even looking up at him is overwhelming.
The moment Camellia, who had barely calmed her pounding heart, tried to stand up.
Did he read her mind? Zen, with his face grimly twisted, approached.
"Tsk."
He clicked his tongue and reached out his hand.
Magical light, shining blue enough to make one ache, condensed into a single point.
The moment Camellia, who had humbly accepted her fate, was about to close her eyes.
Hwaak-.
At the intense blue light, she reflexively closed her eyes even tighter.
The light beam, shrinking in an instant, is felt vividly on her closed eyelids.
'It doesn't, hurt...?'
With her heart still pounding, she carefully opened one eye.
The afterimage of the fierce light remained faintly in her vision, and the blurry world slowly began to return to its own colors.
The extinguished magical light, Zen's lowered hand.
And a warm cheek.
The spot that had ached because it was cold is now cozy, as if it had a light fever.
She slowly raised her hand and touched it. No cracked lips, no swollen flesh.
He had soothed her wounds with a healing magic whose lineage she couldn't even grasp.
'...He did that before, too.'
She couldn't sense him then either, didn't know the reason, and didn't have time to ask.
Camellia opened her mouth to say something.
Thank you. Or, why did you do that?
She has to say it, but it won't come out.
Perhaps instead of that.
Something warm began to flow from the upper part of her healed cheek.
One drop, two drops.
Water droplets soaking into the dust piled up on the floor.
Strangely, it flowed down from only one eye.