Chapter 145
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 145
Chapter Title: Countermeasure (3)
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"Ugh. This time it dragged on for quite a while. Aren't you tired, old man?"
"Worry about yourself. Do you think a young punk like you getting turtle-neck already will amount to anything?"
"Aw, come on. I'm just saying it out of genuine concern."
"Know your place, know your place. You're still a long way off from worrying about me."
"More importantly... Ah! Right. That mage was here too... Huh? You're still here?"
Late into the night.
Mershar, who had been so absorbed in his work that he forgot even to eat or drink, suddenly spotted Jun watching them from a corner of the workshop, relying solely on the glow of [Light].
He was startled.
Usually, other mages would get curious at first but then leave.
None stuck around watching all day like this.
Even fellow mages couldn't understand what the two were doing unless it was explained step by step.
'This guy's no ordinary madman!'
Mershar's personal philosophy was that true geniuses had to be a bit crazy, but seeing one right in front of him like this sent a slight chill down his spine.
"So, what are you writing?"
"Probably jotting down ideas as they come. Look, there are papers scattered all around him."
"Oh? Wait, those aren't ours."
Jun wasn't just scribbling in his notebook—he'd borrowed paper from the workshop and was writing fresh notes.
Just now, he seemed deep in thought, then suddenly his pen flew across the page again.
"Mind if I take a look at what he's doing?"
"Don't you have any pride as a mage?"
"No, he's been watching all day— what's a quick peek from me?"
"Doesn't matter. Go ahead."
Mershar shot Shylock a triumphant glance, then picked up one of the papers strewn on the floor.
'Wh-what the hell is this.'
At first, he thought it was just some complex formula.
But as he delved deeper, understanding piece by piece, Mershar found himself engrossed, mouth agape.
'All these theories mixed in are low-circle spells... but chaining them this precisely?'
He claimed to be an alchemist, but as an enchanter mage himself, Mershar had a theoretical grasp of various spells in his head.
'Is it even possible to link low-level spells like this? Ah, mana control! Come to think of it, that mage had insane mana.'
Pure, high-grade mana paired with peerless control made such feats possible.
And layering in the ancient incantations Jun had been studying lately made the spells sturdier, more efficient, without sacrificing power.
As Mershar picked up and read one paper after another, he felt a mix of emptiness, slight fear, and awe.
'The last time I felt like this was first encountering the old man's work...'
Individually, they seemed inferior to high-circle magic, but what if these theories were combined into a new high-circle spell?
'It'd be way faster, stronger, and more stable.'
To Mershar, this wasn't a formula for beating equals.
It was designed purely to overcome stronger foes.
Realizing that, Mershar suddenly glimpsed the mage's harsh life.
'No wonder the rumors say he's made a name for himself. He's survived death's door multiple times.'
Carefully gathering the scattered papers like precious treasure, Mershar gazed at Jun, still furiously writing.
'I get why the old man brought him along.'
Anyone producing results like this just from watching would be impossible for Shylock to ignore helping.
"He's a complete lunatic."
Meanwhile, contrary to Mershar's guess.
Shylock also looked slightly daunted as he skimmed the papers Mershar handed him.
As a far superior mage, he saw Jun's magic from a different angle.
'He's planned not just for now, but the future too!'
A few awkward patterns Mershar missed.
They didn't stand out, seeming almost inefficiently intricate.
But they were all foundations for the future.
They'd shine when operating higher-circle magic.
'Under Damian, was it.'
Shylock recalled Jun's master, Damian.
At the same time, he glanced at the bracelet on his arm.
A mage far younger than him, yet never inferior in talent.
That arrogant brat had bound him with [Word Seal], an unbreakable curse—even for Shylock—leaving him unable to wield mana.
'And this kid killed that guy.'
Suddenly, reality felt absurd.
A wicked idea struck.
A way to mock the already-dead fool.
"We need to keep that guy in our research."
"What? Old man."
"Tell him to come back tomorrow if he wants to get his head straight. After lunch."
"Huh? Tomorrow too?"
"Yes."
"You must really like him. Fine by me—more help, the better."
Finally, when Jun snapped out of it and returned to his room, it was already late dawn.
"Ugh..."
It felt like waking from a long dream. Jun came to and looked around.
His memories of yesterday were hazy, like after a drunken binge.
"Ah, right."
Seeing the towering stack of papers on his desk, Jun finally remembered.
"Scribbled like a maniac."
Finding various spells neatly organized, he felt like yesterday's self wasn't quite sane.
Probably in a trance, like Maya against the Monarch.
"Feels like my homework just piled up..."
He'd made them himself, but mastering them properly wouldn't be easy.
"Might as well grab some lunch first."
Arriving at the cafeteria for a late meal, he found Mershar eating alone.
"Hey, mage. You're here."
"Yeah."
"You look half-dead. Makes sense, staying up till dawn."
In truth, yesterday's insights came from coincidences stacking up.
First, [Intermediate Magic Talent] let him grasp the theories.
Plus his existing magic knowledge and past-life memories.
All converging into yesterday's phenomenon.
"Don't remind me. Memories are fuzzy—I might not pull it off again."
"Heh, happens. But you didn't forget everything, right? You're on our team starting today."
"What?"
"You really forgot? The old man said report for duty."
"What could I even do there? Our fields are way different."
"Beats me? If he calls, there's something."
"Hm. Well, they helped me out, so I owe them."
Working together in their workshop would help整理 yesterday's insights too.
'Once Eleanor gets decent with magic, I could teach her what I gained yesterday.'
A thought that would make Eleanor tear her hair out. Jun focused on his meal.
Inside the [Checkpoint] of the 2nd layer, 'Murd's Hayfields'.
In one tavern there, a man grumbled sourly.
"The lieutenant's going too far. Starting at layer 2? Come on."
Wort, ex-soldier under Joseph, muttered over his beer.
Their five-man Break Mercenary Corps were all ex-military following Joseph.
"Wort, you still haven't learned from getting your ass kicked by the lieutenant back then?"
His fellow recruit Enamel scolded him. Wort's face soured more.
"Even so. Think of our surface missions. Blackout's infamous, sure, but piling achievements from layer 2 is a waste of time."
"Shut up already. The lieutenant sent us here for a reason."
"Ugh..."
Wort was stronger than Enamel, but she outdid him in command. He'd always shown weakness to her.
Still, Enamel understood his gripe.
'Impatient by nature, but he resents the lieutenant's affiliation too.'
Gilenoi Merchant Guild-sponsored mercenaries.
No surprise there.
Gilenoi was unknown on the surface, but in Blackout, their position was weaker.
Enamel saw it differently.
Gilenoi was a rising sun now.
Riding that wave to build standing was smarter long-term.
Having gathered intel on the industry before descending, Enamel stayed calm while others didn't.
'Rumors say White Whale piled massive fame in a year. Even half-true is impressive.'
Just raw skill?
Enamel doubted it.
Gilenoi's solid backing made it possible.
As Enamel mulled this.
"Hello. Break Mercenary Corps?"
A stunning blond hunk and a petite, expressionless woman entered and approached.
"Who?"
Wort snapped snidely. The man smiled softly.
"Aiden of White Whale Mercenary Corps."
"Maya."
"Ah...?"
Why were they here?
As Wort blinked dumbly.
Enamel pinched his side hard.
"Ow!"
"...?"
"Ah, nice to meet you. I'm Enamel, Break's vice-captain. Heard a lot. You're joining this op, right?"
"Yes."
That idiot Wort already forgot he mentioned White Whale might send someone.
'Told you to ease up on the booze.'
Wort finally caught on, rubbing his side.
"Pleased! I'm Wort, leading Break Mercenary Corps."
"Ah, Joseph mentioned you in a letter. Same unit alumni."
"Haha, captain's loose-lipped again. Sooo... Enamel?"
Not fully grasping yet, per Wort's eyes. Enamel held off another pinch.
"Welcome. Honored to team up. Heard you have impressive skills by rumor."
"Overstated. Real talent's with my senior... er, captain."
"Captain's a mage, right? Amazing. Mages as mercs are rare in Blackout."
"Kinda. So, mission details?"
"Right away."
Unlike dazed Wort, Enamel quickly pegged Aiden as no ordinary fighter.
No openings even in safe [Checkpoint]—a trait of imperial knights.
"Reassaulting a field dungeon found last year."
"That's right! We hustled for this commission ourselves. Got all the intel too! Shouldn't be too tough."
Wort's words sank Aiden and Maya's moods instantly.
"Not... tough?"
"That guy's spouting taboo. Should sew his mouth shut now..."
"Eh? Wh-what's wrong?"
Why so grave from layer 2 vets who survived layer 5 missing-in-action?
As Wort and Enamel tilted heads, serious Aiden spoke.
"Everyone... In Blackout, no mission is 'not tough.' Never forget that."
"...?"
Still clueless.
They lacked mind-reading.
You had to experience it yourself.