Wind Cutter at the Gates
As soon as I approached the entrance to the 17th District Residential Area, a blinding light shone down on me.
The gate that marked the boundary of the 17th District Residential Area. A searchlight attached to that iron gate was illuminating me.
It was surely a wordless threat aimed at me.
A threat telling outsiders not to come any closer and to get lost. Or perhaps... a ploy demanding I cough up something.
Pushing through the light, I drew near, and sure enough, a bunch of street punks were blocking the gate entrance.
As I approached, they started yapping.
"What brings a pretty little miss like you to a dump like this!"
"Kekeke, wanna get some candy from us uncles?"
"That outfit's for seducing us, huh? By the way, it's 50 creds to enter our village! Or pay with your body! Uhahahaha!"
Eight thugs wielding tools surrounded me, blabbering noisily.
"…"
Ignoring their bullshit, I sank deep into thought.
What spell should I use?
Tentacle magic was out. Its power was strong enough to annihilate hundreds of these punks, but the problem was my current situation.
My gut screamed that recklessly unleashing such overwhelming magic would bring trackers down on me.
That left only regular magery.
The circle spells like fireball or magic missile you often see in fantasy novels.
Otherwise known as basic spells—formulas that deliver decent efficiency with minimal effort.
Shruk.
I extended my hand and summoned the Grimoire from within.
The Grimoire emerged, spreading an ominous dark purple glow.
"…?"
At that sinister color, the thugs who had been hyping each other up froze for a moment.
Charararak—
The Grimoire floating before my hand began flipping its pages on its own.
No destructive magery. I didn't want to draw attention by wrecking buildings. For the same reason, no loud, noisy spells either.
What I needed was precise magery. Something that could drop only people and let me slip away cleanly.
Chak.
The frantically turning pages of the Grimoire stopped.
Feeling the mana flowing through my body, I chanted.
"Wind Cutter"
⟨ Wind Cutter ⟩
"Huh?"
Kwajak!
In an instant, the thug at the front was shredded to pieces.
He collapsed in a gruesome, torn-apart state without even time to scream.
The spell I'd cast was definitely Wind Cutter. But fused with the Grimoire, I had transcended mere slashing winds to touch its essence.
All humans must breathe to live. Air is essential for survival.
But what if that air turned into blades?
Oxygen passes through the airways into the lungs, through the alveoli into the bloodstream, ultimately supplying every single cell. The cycle meant to sustain life becomes self-destruction, ripping the body apart.
If my magic skill improved further, I could probably slaughter targets tens of thousands of times over with every heartbeat.
"You crazy bitch!! What the fuck are you doing!!"
Two thugs charged from the right, three from the left. In response, I simply chanted again.
"Wind Cutter"
⟨ Wind Cutter ⟩
Pukwak—
The five thugs shredded in a flash. Blood sprayed out belatedly.
But I wasn't unscathed either.
Jiiing—
A mild headache stabbed my brain.
"…Ugh."
It was an issue of proficiency. Since I hadn't properly learned magic yet, even with the Grimoire's corrections, my mana evaporated in an instant.
Expanding my mana pool would be a long-term goal, I suppose.
Anyway, six down already, two left.
One of them finally grasped the situation and freaked out.
"Y-You… what the hell are you! Jack bro, no, what the fuck is this…"
Kiiing—
I turned to him, raising the ominously glowing Grimoire.
A timely gust made my witch cloak flutter, adding to the intimidation.
"What group are you with? Where's your HQ? Answer if you don't wanna end up like them."
"Gaaak! You psycho! What kinda freak… get away! Aaaak!"
One step, another step.
I advanced slowly toward him.
The opposite side was blocked by the iron gate anyway—he was a rat in a trap. Running was pointless.
I cornered him against the wall.
"Kkhuk, uk… Mosaz Cartel! Mosaz Cartel! You'll know it right away if you go to F Block. Please, just spare me! I'll do anything…!"
Finally, he spilled what I wanted.
With things like this, I'd inevitably be enemies with their organization. Best to know the name in advance.
"Thanks."
"W-Who the hell are you?"
"What're you gonna do with that?"
Kwajik!
I gave him just enough to satisfy him without killing.
"Hm…"
The plaza after the fight was a mess.
Blood splattered everywhere, thug corpses strewn grotesquely. With only seven heads, one must've noticed early and bolted.
Let's see what's worth looting first.
I was short on cash.
Who the hell pays 70K creds? Even in Korea, 70,000 won could last a few days, but in this price-gouged hellhole, it was absurd.
As I went to rummage their pockets.
"…Hm?"
Someone's shadow fell over me.
"Who…?"
"…Please spare me…"
An unexpected frail voice.
Looking up, there was a long-haired girl.
Her clothes were ragged, like she'd been wearing the same outfit forever. Eyes white as a snowfield. A medical eyepatch over her right eye.
The pale-haired girl approached and knelt before me.
"Please… spare me. You're a mage, right…? My family, my village—we've done nothing wrong. I'll go instead… take just me, please."
…Huh?
She'd appeared out of nowhere, pleading in a trembling voice.
But I had no clue what this was about.
Was she one of the punks' daughters…? Nah, didn't seem like it.
The girl kept talking.
"I'm healthy. Good enough as an experimental subject. So please… spare us…"
"…What the hell are you talking about?"
At my question, she looked up with wide eyes.
"Pardon…? Aren't you from the Magic Tower…?"
…Magic Tower?
As usual, on her way to pay protection money to the Mosaz Cartel's low-level grunts.
Sofia witnessed an awe-inspiring sight.
At the east gate of the 17th District Residential Area, where the cartel's men blocked passage and extorted tolls, a girl stood brazenly before them.
A girl in a witch hat and cloak.
Her black hair and purple eyes gave her an otherworldly beauty, like she'd just stepped out of a comic.
But what terrified her most was the overwhelming color radiating from the girl.
Sofia had been able to see strange colors emanating from people since birth.
Everyone dyed the space around them with their unique hue, commoner or noble alike. Though the scale varied.
But this girl was unleashing a truly wondrous expanse of color.
The most overwhelming she'd ever seen.
"That outfit's for seducing us, huh? By the way, it's 50 creds to enter our village! Or pay with your body! Uhahahaha!"
Whether they knew it or not, the grunts just kept spewing nonsense and cackling.
Of course, the girl wasn't fazed in the slightest by their threats.
She simply gazed up silently, as if giving them a chance…
Kwajak! Puak—!! Kwajik!
"Kuhuk…"
Only unleashing power at the final moment.
That unique outfit, that bizarre power.
Watching the girl, Sofia recalled the rumors among the elders.
Beyond, towering higher than the skyscrapers and megacorps alike: the Magic Tower.
That its high-ranking mages periodically visited the residential areas to harvest "materials."
To the upper crust, lower-district residents were beast-like, barely guaranteed human rights.
Whether the slums were razed or masses massacred in the process, law and order turned a blind eye.
No one protected them.
To high mages, these slum vulnerables were just lab rats to grab anytime. Seeing that, Sofia snapped to attention.
"No, I think there's a misunderstanding…"
I pressed a hand to my forehead in response. What the hell was wrong with this world's mages' average personality?
"……"
The girl still trembling.
"…I'm not that kind of person. I am a mage, though."
"Y-Yes…? But…"
Her eyes still filled with bewilderment and awe.
By the way, this girl casually chatting amid the grinder-shredded corpses wasn't exactly normal either.
Meanwhile, I kept trying to persuade her. First break down the wall of wariness, then talk human-to-human—that seemed the way to communicate.
"Might sound weird, but one thing's for sure: I won't harm you. At least not unless you attack me first. I don't hurt random people."
It was basic common sense for anyone properly raised in 21st-century Korea.
The problem was the world I'd dropped into was a dystopian dark fantasy apocalypse.
Anyway, after a brief exchange, the girl seemed somewhat convinced.
"Really…? You won't hurt me…?"
"Yeah. I promise."
"A promise…?"
"Yep."
"…Okay. I'll trust you."
It was sincere. No reason to hurt this fragile girl, and I needed a guide here anyway.
If I hadn't run into her, I'd have wandered forever—turned out better than expected.
"Then, can I ask one favor?"
"Y-Yes…? Yes…! Of course."
The girl replied, shrinking like a scared rabbit.
The three essentials for human survival: food, clothing, shelter.
I desperately needed food and lodging.
"Could you guide me into the village?"
First, secure a base camp somewhere like an inn. Planning ahead could come after.