Piercing Gaze and Three Heart Images
The acrid smoke from her strong tobacco curled lazily across the table. Beneath the brim of her hat, her half-lidded eyes stared at me languidly. Her sickly pale hand. Deep red lipstick. A gaze that pierced right through me. It felt familiar. Like when I first arrived at the White Tower and the Prophet recoiled in shock. It was similar to the Tower Lord's eyes back then. The difference was that the Tower Lord's gaze held a certain warmth, but this woman's did not.
Being looked at like that by someone is never a pleasant sensation.
"What a fine mask."
The woman smirked. Her eyes weren't on the mask. They were on my eyes beyond it.
"You're quite skilled at pretending to be human."
"……?"
I tilted my head. Pretending to be human? What did that mean?
"Oh, just a figure of speech. Don't take it too badly. You'll understand, right? A mage with three Heart Images—that's a monster imitating a person, isn't it?"
She smiled lazily, tapping the table with the end of her pipe.
"Honestly, I'm curious. How is that possible? What trick did you use?"
Beneath her hat, her eyes gleamed with manic curiosity. A sticky gaze, like she was appraising a rare specimen.
Whoosh—
The long exhale of tobacco smoke drifted over the table and swirled around me.
"Enough."
That was when Sigurd's low voice cut through the smoke. He'd shed his usual cocky bravado, exuding a rare seriousness as he stepped between me and the woman.
"It's an unwritten rule not to pry into each other's identities or secrets. Don't cross the line."
Oh. So he can say something useful for once.
Far from offended by Sigurd's sharp warning, the woman let out a small, amused laugh.
"Hehe, you've got a sturdy protector. Fine, I get it. I'll respect that. I was rude for a moment."
Her eyes returned to their languid state. As she put the pipe back in her mouth and looked away, the thick smoke around us dissipated.
"Let's get to the point."
Sigurd sat naturally across from her, giving me a nod. Without a word, I pulled the wooden box from my bosom and placed it on the table.
"Check it."
The woman picked up the box, inspected the contents, and her eyes narrowed slightly before she nodded in satisfaction.
"...Genuine article. Good work."
She pushed the pouch of gold coins toward us with a flick of her hand.
Clink—
The clearest, most beautiful sound of metal sliding across the table. Five gold coins! No more stale, rock-hard cheap bread. From now on, fresh white bread slathered in butter. Thick lamb ribs dripping with juices, stews simmered with expensive spices. Baked apples glazed with honey for dessert.
As I basked in happy fantasies, Sigurd pocketed the gold pouch and stood.
"That completes the request perfectly."
He turned without a backward glance and headed for the tavern exit. Evel and I followed without hesitation.
"Hope we cross paths again sometime."
Her languid voice drifted from behind. I didn't bother replying.
#
"Here, your share, you lot."
Once we left the tavern and slipped into a dark alley, Sigurd tossed something over. I caught the arcing object on reflex. Two gold coins in my palm.
"What the hell?"
"What's the problem?"
Sigurd straightened up, retorting defiantly as I glared.
If someone takes one step past the starting line in a 100-meter dash, you think, 'Cheater.' But if they're already at the 50-meter mark alone? You just gape in disbelief. Sigurd was that guy.
"We did 3. You get 2."
From sneaking into the estate to taking out the toughest executive—we handled it all for three coins. Sigurd, who just talked big from the back, guided the way, and nabbed a few small fry, gets two.
"Any conscience at all?"
"Conscience!? Who wolfed down mana stones worth ten gold coins from the safe?"
"That was Dusty, not me."
"Then who's responsible?"
"Sorry. I'll give it a good scolding so it doesn't happen again."
"……Hmm."
He pondered, hand on chin, then...
"Fine, the stern discipline counts! I'll let it slide this time!"
With that, he tossed another gold coin my way. I snatched the third one mid-air with a ting.
Three gold coins clinking in my palm. Settlement complete at last.
"Thus, our fair trade is fulfilled. I taught you how to make money, and you saved my life. Farewell! If fate wills it, we'll meet again!"
Sigurd flung his cloak dramatically and vanished down the alley without looking back. Only after his flashy silhouette fully melted into the night air did I tuck the three gold coins deep in my bosom.
Then, my hand brushed another coin pouch inside.
Oh right, the silver coins from that executive's room. Sigurd hadn't mentioned them during settlement, so he'd probably forgotten. Score.
"Let's go, Evel."
"Yeah."
Heading back to the inn with Evel, I tallied our funds in my head. Three gold, six silver. One silver equals 100 coppers, one gold equals ten silver—so 3,600 coppers total. Our cheap inn costs 50 coppers for three nights. That's 216 nights. Over seven months straight for commoners or third-rate mercs—half a year's living expenses. Survival sorted for now.
Alright, next problem.
—You have three Heart Images? What did that mean?
Magic starts with basic Phenomenon to generate mana, builds Structure for the framework, and culminates in Heart Image—imposing one's unique inner world. These are the foundational three of magic's five stages. Sometimes classified as 1st circle for Phenomenon mages, 2nd for Structure, 3rd for Heart Image.
And the absolute common sense of this world: a mage can hold only one Heart Image in a lifetime. It's the shape of one's soul, their inner self. You can't fit two inner worlds in one vessel.
But three?
'...One's mine.'
I glanced at my left arm. Another is probably this guy dwelling there, Dusty.
But...
'Then what's the third?'
My gaze shifted to my right hand. The geometric equations etched on my right hand's back, left by Zepeto before he died.
'...No way?'
Sure, during the guild entry test, I mimicked Zepeto's Heart Image magic to fool the guild master. But it was just mimicry—cobbled together his barrier and Purification formulas to look convincing. A sleight of hand.
But what if it wasn't just mimicry?
Let's sort it. The woman's three Heart Images. Likely candidates:
1. Mine. Obvious. I have a self, an inner world, so a Heart Image. Problem is, it's half-corrupted by my Destiny—Reverse Reason—so I don't know exactly what it is.
2. Dusty. Plausible. It sprouted a self, and we briefly shared a split personality vibe before I moved it to my left arm, keeping our egos independent. Gaining a name and ego means a Heart Image isn't weird. Though ironic—it freaks out at others' Heart Images but ignores its own. Fine with its own, hates everyone else's? Brat.
Anyway. Now the third, the real mystery.
3. Zepeto? ??
He did leave his lifelong research equations on my hand, but is that a Heart Image? Doubtful. A Heart Image is one's inner self. I sometimes describe Evel's as "eternity" or "void," but no two words capture a person's depths.
Handing that over as equations? Defining one's ideals, personality, tastes, countless unnamed emotions with shapes and numbers? Impossible. Unthinkable.
'......Huh?'
A hypothesis flashed through my mind. I paused.
Impossible. Unthinkable. Defying reason.
Reverse Reason.
I unwrapped the bandage on my left arm, staring at the chaotic etched shapes—the Destiny of Reverse Reason, transcribed to my left arm.
"Dusty, was that you?"
In response, an eye blinked open and shook side to side.
...Clearly saying, 'Not me.'
"Tch...."
Damn. Then what? No clue. Pondering mysteries just gives headaches. With money in hand, I'll enter the labyrinth tomorrow and figure it out slowly.
#
The next day, at the Adventurer's Guild.
Evel and I headed to the first-floor counter. The same receptionist from before, the one who trailed off endlessly.
"Excuse me."
"Yes."
"We're heading into the labyrinth. Any suitable requests we could take on the way?"
"Um... requests... you mean... uhmm...."
"Get the guild master, please."
She went upstairs, and soon Rainerus came down.
"What is it?"
"Sorry, but how much is she paid?"
"Get to the point."
"Heading into the labyrinth, want a few requests on the side. Any recommendations?"
"Don't you have hands? The board's right there."
Rainerus jerked his chin at the shabby board.
"Checked it, but no idea what's what. Pick something suitable?"
"………."
For some reason, he sighed deeply.