Chapter 231
Chapter 231
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 231
>Chapter Title: One in a Hundred, One in a Thousand
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Some time had passed since the Black-White Slums auction ended.
The final exams tormenting the academy students had finally concluded, and before long, the second vacation was underway.
In the meantime, Evelyn and Aster had been shuttling back and forth to the Black-White Slums, and today was no exception.
“…….”
Having finished her candid talk with Timur, Evelyn made her way to the rooftop of the Svetlana hideout building.
There, as always, was Knight... no, Aster.
Evelyn stepped out onto the rooftop and paused for a moment, taking in the sight of Aster gazing at the Black-White Slums.
His lips pressed tight, back to the sun, overlooking the slums—he somehow seemed out of place.
Like he was detached from the world?
He'd always had that airy vibe, like he might vanish in a puff of wind, but ever since the auction ended, it had intensified.
As Evelyn felt an inexplicable distance from him, Aster's gaze, fixed blankly on the slums, shifted to her.
“You're here.”
“Ah... yeah. The talk went well. Timur said he'd provide support. But what are you doing? You've been up here on the rooftop these past few days. Are you...”
...preparing for a Decullan attack?
The question rose to the tip of her tongue, but Evelyn clamped her mouth shut.
Shine's words—the enigmatic ally she knew as the Mage—flashed through her mind.
- This cunning bastard is like a powder keg on the verge of explosion. He's clearly carrying a heavy burden in his heart, so no need to remind him of Decullan or whatever. Because even without us saying it, he's the one feeling the most pressure.
It was casual, but the point was to show consideration for Aster.
So Evelyn had no choice but to swallow her words, leaving an awkward silence between them.
Aster broke it first.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you know the two ways to really piss someone off?”
“......?”
“First is starting to say something and then cutting off. That's what you're doing right now. How am I supposed to take this?”
“......”
Aster fidgeted with his fists, like his body was itching for a fight.
The detached aura vanished, replaced by his usual flippant vibe.
That made Evelyn sense danger, and just then, Aster's voice came.
“Just kidding.”
“Ah, okay.”
Evelyn let out a sigh of relief.
But the awkwardness lingered regardless.
'What the hell?'
Since the Black-White Slums auction ended.
The day he severed the right arm of the Azure Ice Captain's right-hand man and sent it back.
From that day on, Aster had been spacing out more and more.
Was he worried about the bold move he'd made? But that didn't quite fit...
'You said it would be fine.'
Yeah, the same Aster who had confidently assured her and the panicking Timur that nothing would happen after poking the Decullan bear.
Of course, the Mage's words resonated more with Evelyn than his boasts, but Aster had solid logic too.
'With the cold war ongoing with Lortel... Decullan can't move rashly, right?'
Even the Mage wasn't just anyone.
To deal with the Mage, Decullan would need to deploy a Seven Mage or equivalent force, a risk too great for them in peacetime—or so Aster claimed.
That line of thought naturally led to a question.
'What... exactly is he?'
Known simply as a Black-White Slums drifter, Aster had many suspicious aspects.
Starting with having an unidentified powerhouse like the Mage as a comrade, to his own personal strength.
And that wasn't all.
He was convinced of an impending clash between Lortel and Decullan forces.
But the most baffling was Aster's bizarre hostility toward Decullan.
It was... yeah.
Not just from the recent sacrifices of the Black-White Slums drifters.
Something far deeper-rooted.
Just the immediate questions piling up like that.
Inevitably, Evelyn's thoughts grew complicated, and that's why she finally asked.
“What... exactly are you planning?”
“Huh?”
Evelyn furrowed her brow at Aster's usual act.
“Don't play dumb. Lately, you've been acting like you're about to up and leave. I heard it from Damian and Chenbi too. They said you've been distancing yourself a bit...”
“Probably just feels that way 'cause Black-White Slums stuff kept me busy.”
“What's kept you busy? I handled all the work. Don't lie—spit it out straight. Weren't you the one calling us friends? What's a friend for?”
“Hmm.”
Evelyn frowned at Aster's unexpectedly genuine reaction.
“What? That look like I'm some freak?”
“Nah, just thinking you've really turned over a new leaf.”
“......?”
Evelyn tilted her head in confusion.
But only for a moment.
Irritation surged, twisting her face.
“Don't change the subject. I know you—when things get tough, you deflect with nonsense.”
“Did I?”
Aster tilted his head.
He genuinely didn't realize he had that habit.
“Yeah, you did. So no escaping—spill your thoughts right now. Or else...”
“Or else?”
“I'll eat your money and ditch you.”
Evelyn's voice was resolute.
Aster burst out laughing.
“Gutsy.”
“So spill it already.”
Evelyn pressed him, determined not to back down this time.
Meanwhile, a thought crossed her mind.
'Even if I hear it... what can I do?'
Evelyn vaguely sensed it.
That Aster lived in a world somewhat different from hers—no, vastly different.
Aster finally spoke just as that thought hit her.
“Then come here.”
“......?”
Evelyn stepped over at his gesture.
Standing side by side, the Black-White Slums sprawled below in full view.
“Not exactly a pretty sight, huh?”
“......Yeah.”
Buildings haphazardly thrown up from rampant development, weathered facades, drunken revelers staggering the streets, cartel thugs covered in tattoos.
Even charitably, it wasn't much to look at.
“Down there.”
“......?”
“I'm gonna build an orphanage around there.”
“An... orphanage?”
“Yeah. Didn't the talk with Timur go well today? Svetlana's pitching in for Black-White Slums welfare. I'm using that money to build it.”
“Why an orphanage all of a sudden...”
Evelyn tilted her head.
It felt totally out of left field for the usual Aster.
“What, is there a reason? I just want to, so I am. Anyway, listen. We're building an orphanage. Clothing the slum kids, feeding them, teaching them. So what'll they grow up to be?”
“......Beats me?”
Normally, cartel-run orphanages churn out cartel grunts.
But this one didn't feel like that.
“Who knows? That's the fun part.”
“......”
“Some might turn into pickpockets. Others could take what they learn straight to a cartel and be upstanding members. Or maybe mimic the drunks puking in alleys. But whatever, I don't care. They do what they want. But you know...”
By then,
Evelyn suddenly noticed Aster wasn't wearing his mask.
A fresh smile played on his lips. Bright, even with the sun at his back.
Lost in that smile,
Aster's gaze met hers.
“Some might bake bread. Others could leave the slums for jobs. Maybe one becomes a scholar, or if luck's good, a renowned knight or mage on the continent.”
......Of course, there won't be many like that.
But.
“One in a hundred, one in a thousand—that's meaningful enough, right? I just wanna see it. Then go to the ones who make it big and say,”
“What...”
“'You owe it all to me.'”
“......”
“Think about it. Show up to some famous mage and go, 'Yeah! I fed ya, clothed ya as a kid—all me!' How's that? Awesome just thinking about it, right?”
“Th-that...”
Is that awesome?
“Isn't that a bit... petty? And you're investing who-knows-how-much money just for that line?”
She couldn't wrap her head around it.
But Aster was firm.
“That's why it's fun.”
“......”
No clue what was fun about it.
Evelyn eyed him coldly, and soon enough, Aster spoke.
“So, that answer your question?”
“You've been that serious lately... over this?”
“Obviously. It's not pocket change, like you said. Gotta think hard. Plus, not sure it'll even succeed here in the slums. And honestly...”
“Honestly?”
Aster chuckled as he replied.
“It hurts my gut.”
“......Pardon?”
“Where I came from, no orphanages. Imagine getting fed and clothed? But doing it with my own money... oof, the pain.”
Truth be told, he'd nearly had a heart attack.
Money was too precious.
Too infuriating.
Staring at the Black-White Slums from the Svetlana hideout rooftop was to calm that torment.
“Seriously... trash.”
“Recyclable?”
“Won't even burn.”
Evelyn shook her head like she couldn't deal with him.
Meanwhile, Aster turned from her, soaking in the Second Black-White Slums vista.
Obviously, still not much to see.
In one alley corner, drifters were ganging up on someone; next one over, a drunk was puking stew on the ground.
Aster's sharp senses caught it all unfiltered, but what he was really seeing wasn't the current Second Black-White Slums.
Rather... a bit further ahead.
A slightly improved version of the Second Black-White Slums.
And at its center...
'...Not sure about a magic tower, though.'
He'd originally planned one there.
But this incident drove it home.
Land with a magic tower becomes a battlefield inevitably.
So what now?
Truth was, Aster's rooftop musings weren't just about the money pain.
He was sorting his heart.
[So... you're leaving after all?]
Aster nodded slightly to Shine's voice—watching from somewhere—without Evelyn noticing.
Shine stared at him a while before speaking.
[Come back before vacation ends.]
Aster didn't reply.
......And the next morning.
“......?”
Waking in her Black-White Slums lodging, Evelyn spotted a letter by her bedside and tilted her head.
But curiosity faded quick.
She read it calmly, and as her eyes traveled down, a tremor built in them, growing fiercer.
Finally reaching the end,
Evelyn realized.
Build the orphanage right. No skimming the funds.
Aster was gone.