Special Entity (4)
The laws encoded in the rune letters yanked the knight from every direction. It was the pitiful sight of a death row inmate bound at the limbs and neck by ropes pulled by oxen.
Allen aimed his staff at the knight's chest. Without an output regulator, the staff spat a blue mana bolt—and this time, the knight didn't dodge.
"Hoo..."
As Allen exhaled, the glow of [Magnetism] faded. With the rune letters' effect exhausted, the knight—who'd been forcibly held upright—finally dropped to one knee.
Too soon to let my guard down.
From afar came a card inscribed with [Flight]. The knight's body lifted into the air before slamming back to the ground, over and over.
With one worry off his mind, Allen approached the knight slowly and prodded it with his staff. The body rang out like a struck tin can.
"It's over..."
In that instant, the gaping hole in the knight's chest twitched. Something small burst out from inside—
Clang!
Allen reflexively swung his staff, smashing it to the floor in a slump.
"Magpie? Crow?"
It was a bird modeled after one or the other. The tail section was wrecked, and through the crack gleamed a fractured mana stone.
Allen pocketed the bird and rushed to the unconscious Yuta. The wounds were so dire he had no idea where to start.
First, he sprinkled the hemostatic seeds he'd bought for Yao Hua. More precisely, they were seeds that seeped into the torn shoulder, feeding on the pooling blood to sprout into vines.
Hoping Yuta would hold out until they reached the surface, Allen loaded him onto the cart—just as multiple lights converged on their position.
A familiar face stepped forward: a mohawk-styled elf. He glanced between Allen and the knight, then flashed a sleazy grin.
"So that's why the automatons stopped acting up. Heh heh."
Special Entity (4) [Illustration]
Long ago, elves were hailed as nature's guardians, blessed with long lives and stunning beauty. They didn't need desperate training—their extended years granted immense power naturally, and their looks easily won favor among other sapients.
But things had changed.
As civilizations advanced, upright-walking sapients craved the byproducts of land and forests.
Fairies who coexisted with the woods viewed reckless development as a grave violation of sacred realms.
Conflict was inevitable. Forests burned, rivers ran red, and barren earth rejected all plants.
In the end, elves—individually mighty but few in number—lost to civilized society and made peace. Entire tribes even relocated to cities.
Bloodlines mixed and diluted, shortening lifespans to around 120 years. Sure, noble houses preserved purity for far longer lives, but they were rare exceptions.
Anyway, the average elf outlived humans by 1.5 times, yet adaptation to society meant they were now "city-slicked." Hide those slightly long, pointed ears, and they looked like mildly handsome or pretty humans. Eyes gleaming with greed and excitement? Pure human.
The mohawk elf—Rollo—spun his butterfly knife with flair.
A tool with questionable practicality compared to other daggers, but the [Sharpness] rune etched on the blade turned it into a vicious weapon that sliced thin steel plate like butter.
Whoosh, click!
Rollo leveled the blade tip at Allen. Under the headlamp's glow, the edge flashed an eerie blue.
"Looks like you bagged it, while we came up empty."
"What do you want?"
"We busted our asses rushing here, only for someone to hog it all. Kinda deflating, right, guys?"
His ragtag crew of five explorers—spread out in a line—nodded. True to the saying that birds of a feather flock together, they were a motley bunch of rough-looking thugs from every race.
Emboldened by his comrades, Rollo locked eyes with Allen, his brow furrowed in perpetual discontent with the world.
"You know how much it costs to dive into the labyrinth just once. Time wasted, supplies drained, accounts emptied."
"..."
"You're solo—or dragging a half-dead guy too?"
Rollo glanced at the cart, then sauntered toward the fallen knight. With Allen not stopping him, he even nudged it with his toe.
"So we spent triple what you did. Yeah, that corpse looks done for, so make it six times over for goodwill."
"You want the spoils?"
"Bingo. That tin can's chest is Swiss cheese—might not fetch full price... but we need at least a special entity to break even."
"..."
Allen's silence made Rollo scowl again as he twirled the knife with a menacing whirr.
"My pitch not convincing enough? Or are you just stupid?"
It wasn't persuasion—it was a threat. As Rollo menaced, his buddies fingered their weapons.
Leave a body in the labyrinth, and it vanishes like sinking into a swamp. No corpse means no proof of death, and no witnesses seals the perfect crime.
Allen eyed the five plus Rollo—six in total. They'd fanned out smartly in a wedge formation.
"...Understood."
"Good for both of us. Oh, and leave that panther too. It's trashed anyway. I'll dispose of it for you."
Allen paused briefly, then pulled Yuta's cart back slowly, hugging the wall to widen the open space. Rollo jabbered again.
"Hang on—hauling that cart with gear on? Too heavy, right? Count yourself lucky. In Maze City, full of vultures itching to strip you bare, decent folk like me are rare."
"..."
Allen kept moving anyway. He'd hoped they'd let him go, worried only that the knight might get trashed in a fight.
Rollo raised his voice.
"Hey! Deaf or what?"
The labyrinth was no place for Allen, whose body enhancement via mana was abysmal—he couldn't survive unarmed.
This was the end of layer 7. Breaking through four more to reach the crowded layer 3? Handing over gear was suicide.
"Stop!"
As the shout boomed, Allen shoved the cart toward the layer 8 decline and glared—not at Rollo, but at the panther near his ankle.
"Bite."
"Gahhh!"
A simultaneous scream. The panther—torso halved, mobility gone—still had jaws sunk with drill-like fangs, more than enough to work.
The surprise attack shredded Rollo's ankle. Even if he healed lucky, permanent damage was certain.
"Kill h—gk!"
One explorer, witnessing the carnage, swung his gun barrel—only for a hole to punch through his forehead.
Four left. Spotting a flash from one's EBI, Allen dove sideways.
Shrieeek!
An invisible blade blade sliced where Allen had stood.
Meanwhile, balanced Allen flung [Magnetism] cards. Guns were metal, and low-layer models had zero magic resistance.
The rune letters that once bound the knight asserted their will again. Muzzles aimed at Allen whipped sideways.
Rat-tat-tat!
Direction shifted, but triggers stayed pulled. The EBI mage spewed a blood fountain and crumpled.
Three now. No—two.
As gear dragged them into chaos, Allen's mana pistol claimed another life.
Humans were far easier than automatons. Unlike machines that charged to the death until their power source failed, one bullet sufficed for flesh.
"Hoo..."
Allen finished them off. A gaping hole in his thigh, but better than dead.
Hoping no artery hit, he stuffed hemostatic seeds into the wound. The eerie wriggling inside sparked agony.
"..."
Grinding his teeth, Allen limped toward the lone survivor, Rollo. He tried hiding the limp, but thigh pain blurred his vision.
"You bastard..."
"We could've parted nice. Your head seems to have lost its thinking circuits—I'll remove it for you. Get a new one topside."
Footsteps echoed then.
Three passages led to the clearing, and roughly twenty poured in. A number that'd send even automatons fleeing in terror.
Corporate reinforcements or guild backup? Sadly, Rollo's face lit up at the sight.
"Hurry! I'm dying here!"
Sweating buckets in pain, Rollo bellowed.
Some eyed dead comrades, others aimed at Allen. Only one stepped forward—like even that was too much for the battered Allen.
A muzzle glowing blue. Trigger pulled.
Allen's time stretched.
Whiiist!
A faint whistle pierced the air.
A blue flash erupted—and
Thong!
The mana round ricocheted off like a struck tin can, pinging ceiling-ward.
Suddenly, a swordsman in black robes and a pitch cloak stood before Allen. Gray hair swaying to the shoulder blades.
"What the hell's that?!"
"Blast the idiots!"
Chaos from the sudden arrival was brief; foes united, weapons raised. But numerical courage didn't manifest outward.
Whiiist!
Another whistle. The twenty froze stiff, like prey cowed by a beast's roar.
Allen felt the chilling vibration too—but unlike them, he could move.
The swordswoman moved like a shadow. A wrist flick, and explorers dropped one by one. Faint chest rises meant non-lethal.
Cleaning up in seconds, she turned to Allen.
"Thank you."
The gray-haired woman merely nodded curtly to his thanks. Her chest badge gleamed.
Shaped like shattered glass, it marked a direct Breaker explorer. And her eyes were closed.
Blind?
Doubt fleeting, Allen recalled the cart below and sought permission.
"I've got an injured man—I'll fetch him quick."
She nodded again.
Thankfully, Yuta and the cart were fine. When Allen returned dragging it, the clearing teemed with people.
Unconscious explorers were cuffed; corpses loaded onto their carts.
"This yours?"
A cold voice from beside him. She'd appeared without a sound.
Allen eyed the knight and panther at her feet. The panther—loyal to orders till the end—was utterly wrecked.
Allen asked cautiously.
"Does ownership hold even like this?"
"Where'd you register it?"
"Breaker."
"Lucky then. Other places might quibble, but Breaker honors it. Pay fair price if needed."
True to the largest explorer guild in scam-ridden Maze City.
Or maybe there's something I don't know.
A spotless Breaker rivaling megacorps seemed odd, but Allen kept the thought to himself.
The woman pointed to Yuta on the cart.
"Party member?"
"No. We teamed up while fleeing automatons."
"Saved a stranger in that mess?"
Even with lids shut, he could feel the gaze beneath.
Silence stretched—until a group pushed through the crowd.
Badges marked them Breaker too. The lead man addressed her.
"We're here. Any orders, ma'am?"
"Treat these two."
"Yes, ma'am."
Their work was swift. They laid Allen down, injected his thigh, extracted seeds and bullet effortlessly. Even fed him a potion that surged vitality through his body.
"All done."
"You lot, take the cart and injured to HQ. Register spoils under him."
"Got it."
"You—follow me."
Allen rose at her words. The once-wounded area