Let You Down (2)

I arrived at the orphanage. The facilities were even poorer than those in the real world, but the laughter of children echoing from behind a half-broken window was clear and bright.

Knock, knock.

I rapped on the door. It opened almost immediately.

"Who... might you be?"

A tired-looking, middle-aged man wearing glasses stepped out. I held up the wanted poster. His eyes widened.

"...Ah. Are you a Runner?"

"Yes."

"Please, come in."

I stepped inside. From a corner of the orphanage hallway, children came pattering out. Their eyes were filled with curiosity as they stared at me.

These kids were all Labyrinthins too. They just didn't know it.

Yet, somehow, they felt familiar. Was it because I, too, conceptually came from an orphanage?

"Please, have a seat."

The Orphanage Director led me into a small office. He brewed some black tea first and offered me a cup.

His right arm was a metal prosthetic. The scars peeking out from various places beneath his clothes hinted at his past.

"It's black tea. Please, try some."

I gladly took a sip.

I usually made it a rule never to drink anything offered by a stranger, but at the very least, my radar didn't detect any threat from him.

"...Hm?"

I was slightly surprised. The taste was excellent, but more than that, a single sip seemed to soothe my entire nervous system.

"This is excellent tea."

It wasn't empty flattery. For mere black tea to carry a Rare rating was no small feat.

"Did you grow this yourself?"

"Yes. I have a small garden back in my hometown."

The Orphanage Director smiled proudly.

"...Right."

I set my teacup down.

"Then let's get straight to business."

Once, my codename had been Hound.

A hound's purpose was to track and eliminate. Finding people was my specialty.

"Yes. That day..."

The Orphanage Director's face darkened. He continued in a voice heavy with sorrow.

"It was evening, before the sun had even fully set..."

A child playing alone in the orphanage playground had been suddenly murdered by an intruder.

"The intruder must have been after the child's pendant. It was far too expensive an item for a child to carry around. I should have kept it safe."

Hearing the scream, the middle-aged man had rushed out and fired his self-defense gun, but it was already too late.

"The bullet seemed to graze his shoulder, leaving some blood behind, but..."

"Which way is the playground?"

"I'll show you the way."

I walked out to the playground with the middle-aged man. The sandy ground was dotted with a hand-crafted swing set, horizontal bars, and a slide.

Fortunately, the intruder's bloodstains remained along his escape route.

"Is there anything you can do with this...?"

"Could you bring me a glass vial?"

"Ah. Yes."

The Orphanage Director quickly returned with a reagent bottle. I drew my military dagger. Scraping off the asphalt stained with the target's blood, I placed it inside the bottle, then channeled mana and water to heat it. The asphalt melted into a liquid under the influence of my mana.

I cast a spell into the mixture. A blood-attribute spell, Blood Memory.

It was one of the Sapa Magic spells I had acquired from the library. It would react if the owner of the blood was nearby.

"This is more than enough. I'll be back soon."

"Yes. Please... stay safe."

The Orphanage Director seemed worried about me. I left the playground without a word.

As I walked away, gently swirling the reagent bottle, patter-patter-patter.

Tiny footsteps echoed from the alley ahead. Before I knew it, a few little kids blocked my path.

"Excuse me!"

Their clothes were tattered, but they had chubby, adorable cheeks—two boys and one girl.

"...You're the one who came to avenge Ra-woon, right?"

The spunky-looking girl among them asked, her eyes brimming with tears. I looked down at the children silently.

"We... we saved up some things too! We'll give them to you if you avenge him!"

They cupped their hands and held them out. In their tiny, delicate palms lay a few dirty coins.

I stared at the coins for a moment, then shook my head.

"It's not revenge. It's just a job."

I brushed past them. There was no need to engage in idle chatter.

There is a golden rule in these open-world settings.

It isn't 'don't die.'

'Never get attached.'

They are Labyrinthins. Labyrinthins who don't know they are Labyrinthins. Ephemeral existences that will vanish the moment the labyrinth is cleared.

I had seen far too many people forget this first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rule and lose themselves.

Because they seemed so human, they had a way of turning a person's heart into a labyrinth of its own...

"Good luck! You can do it!"

"Do your best~!"

I let the children's cheers go in one ear and out the other, but I couldn't stop a faint smile from tugging at the corner of my lips.

*Cough.*

I coughed the moment I stepped back onto the street.

The air was thick and greasy with exhaust fumes, practically indistinguishable from smog. The air quality was atrocious. A strange heat radiated from the ground, and people who looked ready to draw weapons at any moment loitered about.

And my body's durability was already fragile enough as it was.

Yet, the atmosphere wasn't unfamiliar. It was highly reminiscent of a mercenary district or an underground city.

I walked, leaning on my cane.

"...Hm."

Quite a few people around me were wearing gas masks.

I should buy one too. I'll end up with lung disease at this rate.

I stepped into a nearby equipment shop.

"Welcome."

A balding shopkeeper eyed me up and down. There were a few items on display, but most of them looked like cheap junk.

"A gas mask. A proper one."

I made my request directly to the shopkeeper.

"...I take it nothing on display catches your eye?"

The shopkeeper pulled a gas mask from beneath the counter.

"This is a premium product, exactly three thousand."

I inspected the mask. It was just as much of a piece of garbage. I let out a sigh.

"The finish on the joints is absolute sh—"

I stopped myself before I could snap.

The NPCs in the labyrinth were Labyrinthins, but they acted exactly like real humans. Since they had no awareness of being Labyrinthins in the first place, they might as well be human.

Therefore, acting tough with these guys wasn't efficient. Looking like you knew what you were talking about was the best approach.

It was a survival skill I had picked up in the mercenary districts.

"Sloppy. This won't even filter out basic airborne particles."

The shopkeeper chuckled and waved his hand dismissively.

"No way, sir~ That's just how the product is designed."

"There's no catalyst attached to purify the contamination, and the internal circulation structure of the mask is abnormal. Harmful external substances will bypass the filter entirely and flow straight in..."

I pointed out every single defect in the gas mask. The shopkeeper's expression soured.

Thud.

I tossed the gas mask back onto the counter.

"I won't say it twice."

"...Please wait just a moment."

The shopkeeper retreated into the back room.

"Here. Try this."

Only then did he bring out a proper item.

"Just give me three thousand."

"I'll give you two."

I handed over two bills. The shopkeeper didn't say anything else.

Even 2,000 NaN Dollars was probably a hefty sum.

...I should have haggled more.

I channeled mana into the gas mask. As the circuits opened, my Mana Coefficient activated.

It was certain. Mana Coefficient was a trait that enhanced specific items in proportion to my own magical talent.

"...Confirmed."

In the suburbs just outside the lower district, I strolled down the street, gently swirling the reagent bottle. I constantly channeled mana into the vial to check for a reaction.

Then, at some point.

Slosh.

The reagent bottle vibrated.

It was a faint resonance, but it was enough.

"..."

I quietly turned around.

Uncapping the gently swirling reagent bottle, I let a drop of the liquid fall.

Just a single drop. Into it, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠infused the Flame of Cognition of my mana.

Find your master.

A single thought. The blood writhed and began to crawl across the road.

I followed behind it.

Tap. Tap.

My limping stride echoed with the tapping of my cane.

Before long, the target's physical description came into view.

It was a man.

His right arm and left leg were metallic prosthetics, and tattoos were plastered all over his neck.

I first weighed my options on how to execute this.

There were two ways. Deliberately tailing him for a stealthy assassination, or openly pursuing him to let myself be noticed.

The former would be much easier in terms of difficulty. I could complete the mission without breaking a sweat.

But now, I wanted to test my current level.

The opponent wouldn't run from a fight. Especially not against a cripple like me.

Could I engage in close-quarters combat with someone who was clearly a warrior?

Tap.

I made my decision. I tailed him, but intentionally left footsteps and traces of my presence. I broadcasted suspicious noises as a signal.

He noticed within five minutes. Glancing back at me, he steered his steps toward a secluded area.

He was luring me in.

I gladly obliged, stepping into a dingy back alley.

Soon, I hit a dead end. No one was in front of me.

He was probably...

"Who the hell are you?"

...behind me.

I turned around. A man with entirely pitch-black eyes, devoid of any whites. The moment I faced this rather grotesque wanted criminal, my mana reacted.

My vision was dyed blue. Perhaps my entire retinas were covered in mana.

I realized it instinctively.

My karma had been triggered.

My innate mana attribute, Chastisement.

I questioned whether a guy like me had any right to punish anyone, but...

Since it was given to me, I might as well make use of it.

First, I checked the changes in the system.

4th Refinement. Mana: 13.5. Mana Grade: B.

A realm that was currently far out of my reach had settled into my body, simply because my opponent was evil.

"I asked who the hell you are."

There was no need for a long conversation.

I raised a finger.

Bang.

I fired a mana bullet. The man's figure vanished instantly. His massive frame, easily reaching two meters, slipped right out of the bullet's trajectory.

Neural acceleration. The act of accelerating the entire body, including the central nervous system. An ability that allowed one to move faster than a bullet.

However, it wasn't to the point where my eyes couldn't track him.

In fact, I might be far superior.

Sequence had already been activated. The entire world slowed down. Within it, his movements were sluggish.

Boom, boom, boom, boom.

His foot stomped down.

Ssshh.

Asphalt debris kicked up with every stride.

Hiss.

Steam mixed with heat wavered from his steel fist.

Everything was slow.

Right now, my perceived time was stretched infinitely.

It was a speed my pathetic physical body could never match, but my amplified nervous system could easily process it. Mana moved according to my perception, and spells manifested in proportion to the tempo of my thoughts.

I condensed mana bullets in midair. Anticipating every move of the man approaching me, I showered him with bullets.

In every direction. I fired mana bullets at the ground where he stepped and the space he was moving into.

Crash!

The mana bullets riddled his body. He seemed utterly bewildered, but his durability was impressive. Coughing up blood, he still managed to thrust a straight punch right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the tip of my nose.

I raised a barrier.

Whoosh.

The steel fist accelerated rapidly. A vibration that shook the air, dozens of times faster than any ordinary boxer's punch, slammed into the mana in the air.

Clang!

It didn't even leave a scratch.

"What kind of monster are—"

Those were his last words.

I blasted a mana shotgun right between his eyes.

Thud!

His head burst, and he dropped dead. The slowed time returned to its normal flow.

I looked down at the corpse. Riddled with mana bullets, his body was a gruesome sight. It would probably be censored in the actual broadcast.

Whoosh—

The wind in the alley swirled, rustling my hair. My cumbersome long hair brushed against my shoulders as it fluttered.

I looked at myself. I looked at where I stood, at the leg planted on the ground.

I hadn't moved a single step.

There was no need to.

Kim Se-jin had said that this Sequence would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be the way to compensate for my lack of mobility.

He was right.

If there was no need to move, mobility ceased to be a weakness.

"...Sequence."

Personally, I felt like I understood Sequence just a little bit better now.

Sequence was the connection between mana and the nervous system. The amplification of the nervous system through that connection. The near-instantaneous, simultaneous execution of multiple spells by utilizing perceived time stretched to hundredths of a second.

The caster's self-awakening.

It was less about dealing with a 'person' and more about dominating 'space.' It was an art of controlling every domain within my perception through intuition bound with mana.

Therefore, the caster themselves had no need to move.

Clack. Clack.

I approached the corpse and searched through his clothes.

There was still work to be done.

A house remembers its master, just as much as a master remembers their house.

I tracked the intruder's memories.

It was a Sapa spell called Trace Catching, which traced the paths frequently traveled by a person. Perhaps due to my past experiences, these kinds of spells were easy to learn.

"Nice house."

The intruder's house was a decent villa. It was located in a middle-class suburban area where robot guards patrolled regularly, far away from the trash-heap outskirts of the city.

I guess bad guys living well is the same everywhere.

I pulled a card out of his wallet.

Beep.

The door opened. I stepped inside and looked around, focusing mana into my eyes.

It was one of the applications of Sequence. Amplifying the optic nerves to take in all the information in the area in a single instant...

The space was mapped out. There was a safe hidden behind the wall.

I tore open the wall with my cane.

"...A mana safe."

A safe locked with a specific mana pattern. It was my first time seeing one, but I had a rough idea of how to crack it.

It was a safe that utilized mana. If so, there would be traces of mana left on it, however faint.

I narrowed my eyes. Activating Sequence once more, my vision was dyed blue, and the safe's keypad zoomed in.

I could see it.

Though incredibly faint, there were microscopic traces of mana left behind like dust.

Press. Press. Press. Press. Press. Press.

I pressed six digits.

Click.

The safe popped open.

There was a decent amount of valuable goods inside. Wads of cash, jewelry, watches, and... a blood-stained pendant. The treasure of the child he had murdered.

I packed everything up and walked out.