Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 028
Chapter Title: Charity Party
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City councilor.
In other cities or countries, who knew? But at least in Dun City, being a 'city councilor' was proof of nobility.
In the Central Administrative District of Dun City, where social mobility had ossified, council seats were the exclusive domain of political noble families.
These noble houses existed in the towering upper echelons of the densely packed city, reigning alongside the Luther Family for ages.
A rigorously controlled hereditary elitism.
Barring a tiny handful of exceptions, that summed up Dun City's central politics.
So, ordinary citizens almost never crossed paths with a councilor up close.
Non-citizens? Even less so.
Yet here one was, right in front of him.
'And a Rockton, no less? Aren't they pretty famous?'
For Kyle, it was downright bewildering.
"Hm? What are you waiting for? Sit down already."
"Ah, yes, sir."
At Councilor Rockton's urging, Kyle took the seat right next to the head of the table.
Across from him sat Team Leader Joseph.
"Good of you to come. Now, introduce yourself. This is..."
"No need. I can handle it myself, Team Leader Joseph."
Councilor Rockton raised a hand to stop him, smiling as he spoke.
"I'm Martin Rockton. As head of the Rockton Family, I also serve as a city councilor."
"Uh... Kyle Clark."
"I've been impressed by your exploits. The Al Kimia Alliance sweep last time... and that magic you unleashed in Sector 5. Truly remarkable."
"Haha..."
Kyle let out an awkward laugh.
'Must've really made the rounds.'
Seemed like everyone knew about it.
"Not from the Mage Tower, yet gifted with dual elements—that's surprising enough. But where on earth did you learn spells like that? I've heard heretical mages have their own sects or lineages. Is that where you trained?"
"Uh..."
Kyle paused to think.
For a split second, he considered bullshitting his way through it.
But locking eyes with Councilor Rockton, something told him that wouldn't fly.
"No, nothing like that. I taught myself magic, so I'm not familiar with any sects."
He'd only just learned that heretical mages even had such things.
Joseph quietly swallowed.
Councilor Rockton peered at Kyle with amused interest.
His right 'eye'—an implant—analyzed the prisoner's gaze handling, sweat glands, finger movements, and more, drawing a conclusion.
'Hoo...'
A fascinating result.
'He really taught himself all those spells?'
The eye implant was the pinnacle of magitech, obtained through rare exchanges with the Mage Tower.
Limited to a select few, it boasted high reliability.
Hard to believe, but if the readout said so, his words were likely true.
Councilor Rockton eyed him like a rare specimen.
'A so-called genius.'
Truth be told, he'd run a background check on Kyle Clark before this meeting.
'But it was spotless.'
Even accounting for his illegal resident status, Kyle's past was remarkably clean.
As if someone had erased it with a giant eraser.
He'd just appeared out of nowhere in the heart of the 8th Special District one day.
By contrast, his stepsister Lena Clark had a far clearer trail.
From the California New Alliance in the western confederation, she'd moved to the 8th Special District a decade ago.
'Even if her meeting him was coincidence...'
Dual elements—a rare trait.
Talent to self-teach magic to that level.
And an origin wiped suspiciously clean.
Hard to buy him as a simple illegal.
'Worth digging deeper.'
But his skills were real regardless.
As a key asset to the project, treating a prisoner well couldn't hurt.
"Impressive. Self-taught, no less. Quite the talent, eh?"
"Yes, absolutely."
Joseph nodded eagerly.
'Self-taught.'
He marveled inwardly.
'Must be Mage Tower Lord's blood after all.'
The theory had solidified in Joseph's mind.
Then Councilor Rockton asked,
"I heard from Team Leader Joseph—you want citizenship?"
"Ah, yes."
"Any particular plans once you get it? Not that it's my place, but... talents like you rarely seek citizenship."
"I've been wondering that myself."
Joseph chimed in, prompting Kyle to rub his temple before answering.
"Uh... I want to go to school."
"Hm?"
"Huh???"
Both men blinked in stunned silence.
Undeterred, Kyle pressed on.
"With citizenship, I can live normally. Go to school, study, all that."
The utterly unexpected answer left Joseph and Rockton speechless.
'Whoa...'
Councilor Rockton blinked.
What an odd duck.
'Or rather, refreshingly upright.'
Hardly the mindset of a violent criminal.
Wholesome, even.
'Interesting. Very interesting.'
Growing fond of the young man, Councilor Rockton chuckled.
"School, eh? Sounds good. Gotta enjoy campus life while you can, right? Hahaha."
"Hahaha, yes! Hahaha."
Joseph laughed along as Councilor Rockton continued.
"Very well. Here's my promise: Contribute to this project as you have, and before your release, I'll write you a recommendation letter for any school you want."
"...!!"
Kyle and Joseph widened their eyes at the offer.
A sitting councilor's recommendation? A golden ticket to admission.
Full tuition coverage, likely.
The Rockton name carried extra weight among nobles.
"...May I ask why you'd go that far?"
But nothing came free. Kyle probed cautiously, and Councilor Rockton nodded.
"Just know this project has grown critically important. Your kind—cooperative and skilled prisoners—play a pivotal role."
"Truth is, the councilor's personal visit is because he has a special task for you."
Kyle raised an eyebrow at Joseph's words.
"A task for me?"
"Mm."
Councilor Rockton nodded, pulling a photo from his pocket and placing it on the table.
It showed a middle-aged man radiating wealth, with heavy implant mods.
"...I can promise not just sentence reductions, but generous compensation in the Rockton name."
His eyes gleamed.
"So, care to give it a shot?"
Somewhere in Dun City's Central Administrative District.
The heart of the city, reserved for select citizens. I felt oddly out of place here.
'Never thought I'd set foot in the Central Administrative District.'
Even with citizenship, connections here weren't guaranteed.
A ticklish itch had me loosening my tie when the intelligence agent's voice crackled in my ear.
'Wasn't tense anyway.'
Missing my usual bomb collar felt weird, mission or not.
The venue was a lavish party in a high-rise in the Central Administrative District.
A hologram overhead read: 'Charity Party for the 8th Special District's Low-Income Residents.'
'Never heard of a charity party like this.'
First time in my life.
'Do people even donate to the 8th Special District?'
I'd never seen a dime.
'Wonder if non-citizens count as low-income.'
If not, what's the point?
I pulled out my newly issued ID card.
It read 'Gary Norman.'
Fake, of course, just to get in the building.
I recalled yesterday's chat with Councilor Rockton.
'This man's Noble Gibson. Top implant engineer, well-known among nobles.'
'Implant engineer?'
Councilor Rockton nodded.
'He caters to noble heirs' implants. But intel came in—he's smuggling military-grade implants into the 8th Special District.'
'Mafia, Dwarf Red Union, scavengers, elf mercenaries... sells to all.'
Joseph took over.
'Military implant leaks threaten security—and this project.'
'Problem is... he's backed by multiple families.'
Many nobles had received his discreet, illegal procedures.
Those implants needed ongoing maintenance, and they didn't want more people knowing.
'...So, take him out?'
'No, capture him. Need his full network.'
'Why me, though...'
'Because...'
Councilor Rockton sighed.
'He never leaves the Central Administrative District.'
Abducting him here by anyone traceable was impossible.
All citizens had to share location data with Surveillance on demand.
'Can't use police or intel agents. We need someone non-citizen, skilled enough, and trustworthy.'
In short, me.
'Succeed, and you'll get 100 million credits plus weekend passes. Deal?'
'...!!'
I couldn't say no to that.
Especially the 100 million credits.
I glanced over. Noble Gibson, sharp in a flashy suit, entered the party.
"Haha, hello everyone. Oh, madam! You're even more radiant than last time."
He mingled effortlessly. I locked eyes with Councilor Rockton.
He nodded, flashing a bright smile as he approached Gibson.
"Gibson! Long time. How've you been?"
"...! Councilor Rockton? Fancy meeting you here..."
The plan was simple.
One: Gibson enters the party.
Two: Councilor Rockton lures him to a private room downstairs under pretense of 'discreet' implant consultation.
Three: I, disguised as a reporter, enter instead, subdue the clueless Gibson, and kidnap him.
'Straightforward on paper.'
Councilor Rockton led Gibson to a corner.
I grabbed a macaron from a shelf, popped it in my mouth, and pretended to snap photos.
Then I flinched.
"...!"
A familiar face in my camera viewfinder.
'...Marie Fleetwood?'
Elegant dress, dolled up—it was that woman from before.
She looked my way. I spun around fast.
'What's she doing here?'
Aren't Mage Tower folk above worldly affairs?
At a charity party?
I slipped away from her gaze.
'Tch. This feels off.'
As I circled the room, the agent's radio buzzed.
"...!"
I bolted from the party, heading downstairs.
Floors 45 to 50 were for intimate chats among guests.
Councilor Rockton had booked the entire 45th.
Gibson wouldn't bring company for a secret consult with a bigwig like him.
Just me and Noble Gibson on this floor.
The elevator opened to a hallway lined with plush red carpet.
'Room 12.'
Face masked, I headed to the end, using the master key to unlock it.
A lavish bedroom interior.
'...Why a bed in a chat room?'
Gibson rose from the sofa like he'd been waiting.
"Ah, Councilor Rockton. I've been waiti—"
I hit him with magic on sight.
[Lowest Bolt]
Kwa-zijik!
Lightning arced across the room in a blink.
But I could only gape.
Gibson had vanished from before me.
"Who the hell are you?"
I whipped around. He'd somehow relocated to the corner, glaring.
Faint light glowed from his legs.
'Military implant...!'
[Lowest Bolt]
Pu-per-pung!
The bolt pierced where he'd stood.
But he'd already shifted to the opposite side.
"Assassin? Pathetic. How'd you get in here?"
I unleashed Belial's Withering Minor Curse next.
"!?"
Gibson grimaced, suddenly weighed down as his stats dropped.
I followed with Bolt Pulse across the room.
[Bolt Pulse]
Kwaaaaang-!!
The room erupted into chaos from the exploding lightning.
"...!"
Yet Gibson stood unharmed.
"Useless."
A magnetic barrier—deployed unnoticed—shielded him.
'Counter to lightning magic?'
Military-grade, alright.
Gibson scowled at the curse's debuff.
"No idea what trick you pulled."
Red heat lines raced up his legs. He rolled up his sleeve.
"But this much won't cut it."
His form vanished.
Gibson smashed through the window. The agent radioed frantically.
"I know...!"
'If magic fails!'
Beat him down old-school!
I chased him out the window.
'Stupid bastard.'
Gibson smirked, blasting through the window.
His implants were old military scout models.
Top-tier speed on the current market.
'Whatever he did, performance dipped a bit...'
Still, the 50th-floor party was seconds away.
Game over then.
Building alarm, assassin trapped and shot.
"Hahaha!!"
Night wind rushed past as he grinned wider.
'Feels damn good!'
Wall-running impossibly, he accelerated toward the party—
"Not so fast."
"?!"
A voice above. Gibson looked up, disbelieving.
'What...?!'
The assassin loomed overhead, somehow ahead.
[Wereking Step]
[Agility like a wolf's surges, greatly boosting movement speed temporarily.]
"How the... Gah!?"
Kyle seized his nape roughly, yelling,
"Back down...!"
Kicking off the wall—
"Down you go, punk!"
A merciless fist slammed into his face.
"?!"
Kwaaaaang-!