Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 038
Chapter Title: Great Bloodline (1)
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After Don Varone's arrest, the remaining mafia remnants either fled or quickly surrendered to the police.
A complete and utter rout.
No one had believed it when talk started of an all-out war between the mafia and police, but this unexpected outcome drew the focused attention of countless people in the 8th Special District.
Above all, the biggest buzz was around the Basilisk subjugation. Videos of Kyle taking down the monster had been endlessly duplicated and were floating all over the deep web.
That explained why, after the assault operation, bets on the police victory skyrocketed exponentially on 'Bet on Everything', the 8th Special District's largest betting site.
The one reason: the Mafia Butcher was on the police side.
Rockton Assemblyman was well aware of this fact.
'Can't deny it.'
Achieving this much in such a short time was impossible without the Butcher.
Without him, every process would have been delayed by at least half a year.
The worsening border situation made it impossible to freely conscript powerful individuals, amplifying the issue.
In this context, Kyle Clark's presence was all the more precious.
"I've added 100 million credits to the promised reward."
"Pardon?"
Kyle blinked at the sudden bonus.
"You outperformed even your Al Kimia Alliance raid, so extra compensation is only fair."
"!!"
'Holy shit, jackpot.'
Stunned by the windfall, Kyle checked his account—balance now swelled to 370 million credits.
His mind raced with calculations.
'If I keep piling up assets at this rate...'
He might even have spare cash to buy magic artifacts now and then.
But he couldn't help admiring it at the same time.
'Rockton Family lives up to the hype.'
Hundreds of millions tossed around like pocket change.
A true powerhouse among political families.
"And as you know, the next operation begins soon."
Joseph picked up the thread.
"This target's the Carnera Family... their boss, the Godfather."
'The Godfather...'
Kyle felt his mood sour slightly.
He was the true mastermind behind the hit on Kyle, after all.
"Thanks to you, our losses were light. We can move once reorganization's done—in two days."
Rockton tapped the table lightly, continuing.
"Capture the Godfather quick like the assault op, and I promise 300 million in reward."
'300 mil...!'
"Bonuses like today's, depending on performance. If you're game, please push hard for project success."
Perfect timing—he'd planned to see the bastard's face anyway.
With big money on top? No reason to refuse.
'Plus...'
In wartime, one key S-rank condition seemed to be minimizing ally casualties.
To achieve that, he'd need to charge harder than ever.
Storm enemy lines faster than anyone, secure objectives swiftly.
Police losses would drop naturally.
'Enhancement skill points? More the better...'
Kyle nodded.
"Of course. I'll give it my all."
Rockton smiled faintly.
"One favor, though—the ledger you recovered."
"Yes?"
"Keep its contents quiet, if possible?"
An easy ask.
'Packed with sensitive stuff.'
Kyle nodded.
"Sure."
"Thanks. Get some rest."
After their brief farewell and Kyle's exit, the assemblyman watched him go and muttered,
"The more I see, the more solid he seems. Too good for the penal unit."
Joseph chuckled in reply.
"I agree."
'...Which makes him all the more suspicious.'
His personality and conduct didn't scream back-alley thug.
Plus that absurd magic talent.
Too many oddities. Rockton had kept digging into Kyle using every contact and intel network.
'But nothing turns up.'
Even an illegal immigrant should yield some clue after this scrutiny.
Yet conclusions matched initial probes.
'Kyle Clark just dropped into the heart of the 8th Special District one day...'
Rockton's eyes narrowed.
'Ridiculous, of course.'
Someone had deliberately, meticulously buried his tracks.
Ensuring no one could find him.
'In Dun City, only one could pull that off...'
Exactly one.
'Mayor Luther...'
The absurd conclusion drew an involuntary dry laugh from Rockton.
'Luther. Of all people.'
Even he knew it sounded insane.
A random penal inmate tied to Luther? Preposterous.
'...But if.'
What if Luther really was involved?
He let out a quiet groan.
'Lena Clark.'
Was Kyle's meeting with that woman coincidence too?
Just then, Captain Joseph broached cautiously,
"Assemblyman. About that ledger..."
"......"
Rockton sighed softly.
It held real power, no doubt.
Suspecting mafia bribes was one thing; hard proof in a ledger? Worlds apart.
Especially those still taking lobby cash post-project launch from Luther Family.
They'd be in hot water—framed as backing crime syndicates against Luther.
This ledger could sway even the lukewarm holdouts.
'The problem...'
Was the back half of that secret ledger.
'...Marshall.'
A name partially erased beside Noble Gibson.
Joseph looked incredulous.
"But Marshall's Luther Family's inner circle, right? Why...?"
Noble Gibson supplied military implants to 8th District criminals.
Directly against current Mayor Luther's stance.
Linking prestigious Marshall to him? Potential massive scandal.
"No idea."
Rockton groaned.
'If it's just some rogue Marshall family member, we'd be lucky...'
He closed his eyes.
"Whatever it is, don't touch this part yet. Keep it sealed."
"Because it's Marshall?"
"No. Luther. The Luther Family, precisely."
If not mere corruption or deviation, but Marshall Family policy...
Luther ally Marshall sabotaging central plans for 8th District? Hardly solo act.
"What do you...?"
'...Luther isn't just the mayor.'
"......!!"
Joseph swallowed hard.
"Luther Family naturally has many 'Luthers'."
Some might resent the current mayor.
Marshall could be following them.
"Assemblyman! But that's...!"
"I know."
Dangerous words.
Could imply Luther Family schism, even civil war.
"Which means extreme caution here."
What brewed in Luther? Marshall's aims? Mere corruption?
Nothing confirmed—rushing conclusions risked chaos.
Especially now, with borders unstable.
"Kyle Clark brought a massive bomb."
Outcome could unleash brutal winds through central politics.
"First... dig deeper into Gibson-Marshall ties."
Rockton checked his phone messages.
"...Intel says Gibson's interrogation wraps soon."
The wasteland sun dipped low, evening shadows cloaking the detention block.
After dinner, lounging on my bunk, I looked up at an unexpected knock.
"43471."
Lieutenant Roden stood there.
"Hey, Lieutenant."
"Come with me."
Walter shot a puzzled glance.
"This late?"
"Yeah. This late."
He eyed me.
"No clue what, but good luck."
"Yeah, whatever."
Out in the hall, I asked the lieutenant,
"So, what's really up?"
"Can't say more than follow orders."
"??"
Tailing Roden through the third-floor security door to the fourth, I crossed the bridge to Detention Block 3.
'First time in Block 3.'
Usually stuck to your squad's floor.
"Here."
He opened the door to a small interrogation room.
Sitting there: Lyn Yenitz, inspector with her haughty beauty.
She smiled brightly at me.
"Welcome."
"Huh?"
Roden saluted her.
"I'll withdraw then."
"Thanks for your work."
The door slammed shut. Staring blankly, I spoke first.
"...You're back?"
"Yes, just recently."
Seemed she'd checked out days after waking.
"...You sure you're okay?"
I was immortal and numb to pain anyway—a curse meant nothing.
But Lyn Yenitz looked utterly unsuited to rough work.
"Yes, fine."
She caressed her still-bandaged wrist, joking lightly,
"Aside from this wrist feeling off. Must've bumped hard somewhere."
"......"
Probably from me yeeting you.'
But I stayed mum.
'Sometimes, ignorance is bliss for everyone.'
"Why you sitting so far?"
"Oh."
Only then did I realize the distance I'd instinctively kept.
'Pure instinct now.'
Beauties equaled trouble.
Conditioned response.
'Come to think, that Basilisk girl was sus too.'
Dark elf chick.
Woke up, she's behind me.
'Felt eyes post-arrival. She stalking?'
Not Marie Fleetwood or something.
'Gotta ask team leader for squad switch soon.'
I sat opposite her.
"So, what's this late hour about...?"
"Sorry. Rest time, I know."
She smiled softly.
"Couldn't help it. Inspector openly summoning an inmate looks bad for both sides."
Inspectors aided the project but as outsiders.
Monitoring progress externally.
Police allies, yet not fully—delicate position.
"Plus, as I mentioned, your supporters prefer low profiles."
"Those sponsors?"
"Yes."
She nodded.
"Killed two birds: unit business pretext, asked a trusted contact."
Trusted: Roden, apparently.
'Old pals?'
She continued,
"So, given any thought?"
"To the equipment...?"
"Yes."
"That gear—magic artifacts included?"
Yenitz nodded.
"Of course. Top-tier Magic Tower rarities might be tough, though..."
"Nah, don't need that."
I pondered briefly.
"Any fire-attribute magic artifact's fine. Embedded attack spell."
"Fire-attribute artifact?"
"Yes."
"Anything else available: lightning, wind, light excluded."
Lightning and light covered by Marie Fleetwood; wind had elven secret arts as superior.
She tilted her head, then noted it on her phone.
"Got it. They'll prep the best possible."
"Uh... relay my thanks to the sponsors?"
"Naturally. Oh, and..."
"Yes?"
Her cheeks flushed; she coughed lightly.
"Didn't get to say... thanks for saving me last time."
That moment—
"!!"
A stabbing prickle at my nape—I bolted up.
"...? K-Kyle?"
Raised hand silenced her; I listened intently.
"Inspector."
"Y-Yes?"
I eyed her wide-eyed form.
"It's... too quiet, don't you think?"
"...!"
Evening—night hadn't fully fallen, inmates should've been rowdy.
Building full of noisemakers; faint living hum normal.
Had been, before entering.
'But now...'
Stoic, I eyed the door.
'Dead silent.'
I turned to her.
"Inspector. Stay here, no matter what. Got it?"
"......!"
Her long lashes trembled as she gulped.
Leaving her, I opened the interrogation room door.
Kiiiii...
Eerie silence amplified the rusty hinge screech.
'......'
Detention block looked normal at a glance.
Lights fine, nothing changed.
...Save the total lack of wind.
[......]
Only then: no spirit presence since earlier.
'What the...'
Slammed the door, pinched my nose.
'Air's heavy.'
Thick, cloying.
Unease rising, I gripped Fleetwood's magic gem from my pocket.
'Just in case.'
Glancing over: glass door to Block 2 sealed shut.
'...Was open earlier.'
Creepy: Block 2 lights all off.
Strange.
No blackout at this hour; shouldn't be pitch black.
Approached, yanked handle—immovable.
Not even a budge.
Like time frozen.
I muttered,
"Barrier?"
"Correct."
"?!"
Kwajik! A massive greatsword impaled my chest.
-Massive HP Loss
Pierced by greatsword
"Kuhuk...!"
Crimson blood sprayed.
Eyes bulging, I looked—blood-red eyes in pale skin.
'Vampire...!'
"Hah, just a bug after all."
"!!"
Instantly, black-and-white flames erupted along the blade.
"Blame that hawk-nosed geezer's favor, human."
He yanked the sword free; black hellfire devoured my body eagerly.
Kwaaaaang-!!
My form incinerated in seconds, crumbling to ash.
Charred remains behind, the vampire sheathed his greatsword and turned.
"Butcher this, Butcher that. Human hype after all."
He smirked.
"...Boring enough to die."
I replied,
"That so."
Wereking Step
Instant revival and high-speed dash
"?!"
Revived on the spot, I smashed the magic gem full-force into his gaping jaw as he whirled, stunned.
"Then die."
The gem flared blue in my hand.
"Y-You bastard, how...!!"
Lightning detonated violently, shredding the vampire's body mercilessly.
-Catastrophic Damage
Lightning explosion shreds foe
Kwaaaaang-!!