Chapter 45
Chapter 45
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 045
Chapter Title: Jinx
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile. Rockton councilor's personal vehicle.
The back seat, shielded by thorough soundproofing and security. Rockton councilor, who had been gazing outside for a moment, spoke up.
"You seem to have looked into anti-magic constitutions from various angles?"
"......"
To his words, Inspector Yenitz in the seat beside him couldn't utter a single reply.
"Otherwise, there's no way you'd let the term 'anti-magic' slip out like that."
The anti-magic constitution was generally known merely as a trait that resisted external magic power, but the truth was different.
Anti-magic was the power to resist the very essence of external mysteries rooted in magic power.
Thus, it wasn't limited to spells or curses—if the source was magic power, then the powers of demons, demonkin, fairies, or spirits held no sway over Luther bloodlines either.
That was why the Luthers were considered noble.
That was why the Luthers had been able to found this city amid the chaos of centuries past.
Rockton continued.
"Personally digging into the Luthers like that? If the Surveillance Bureau finds out, it won't end with just your dismissal."
At those words, Yenitz bowed her head.
"I'm sorry."
"What's the reason?"
When Rockton asked, she squeezed her eyes shut.
"It's because... I suspected Kyle Clark."
"Suspected?"
"...It's just my personal hunch."
After taking a deep breath, Yenitz met Rockton councilor's gaze head-on.
"I believe Kyle Clark might have an anti-magic constitution."
"......"
Rockton councilor, staring at her, pressed the button beside him.
A partition descended from above, completely sealing off the driver's seat from the back.
"Surely you have more basis for that suspicion beyond today's incident?"
"There are several factors... but what convinced me was when Kyle Clark survived exposure to magic power at lethal poison levels."
"Isn't it just because Kyle's such a skilled mage?"
"No matter how skilled a mage—or rather, especially a skilled one—that poison gas would be even more deadly. Of course, someone from the Mage Tower might be different..."
She swallowed hard.
"Above all, I figured if he weren't a Luther, the Marshalls wouldn't be taking an interest."
"The Marshalls?"
Rockton furrowed his brow at that.
"Did you just say Marshall?"
"Yes? Yes."
"The Marshalls showed interest in him?"
Yenitz blinked before nodding.
"Yes. That's why the Marshall butler came to me personally. He even said he wanted to secretly sponsor 43471."
"Sponsor?"
Rockton couldn't help twitching an eyebrow at the unexpected response.
'What?'
From what he'd seen today, the Marshalls were clearly obstructing the 8th Special District Security Stabilization Project.
Which was why he'd assumed they were helping Noble Gibson distribute military implants to the district's crime syndicates.
'But behind the scenes, they were trying to aid Kyle?'
Kyle Clark was no exaggeration to call a core figure in the Security Stabilization Project.
'What does this mean?'
Rockton let out a quiet groan.
'Are the Marshalls divided too?'
It wasn't an unreasonable thought.
If the Luthers were fracturing internally, loyalties within the Marshalls could easily split over which "Luther" to back.
'Or...'
The Marshalls wanted the project delayed, but not Kyle dead?
Rockton's eyes narrowed.
'If it's the latter, just what the hell is Kyle Clark's true identity?'
As if he were some hidden scion of the Luthers.
"Let me say this upfront."
Rockton said, gazing out the window.
"The Luther bloodline is under strict management by City Hall's Central Secretariat. Which means the odds of the mayor's bastard child scraping by in the 8th District aren't all that high."
"B-but, councilor. The mayor is..."
"Right. Bluntly put, he's a lecher."
Illegitimate kids were a dime a dozen as a result.
"That's why I said 'not that high.'"
He couldn't entirely rule out some untracked bloodline slipping through the Central Secretariat's net.
Besides, regardless—surviving a demon? That alone made the constitution impossible to dismiss.
"Whatever that guy's true identity, it's a fact that Mayor Luther went out of his way to conceal it."
"Conceal... you mean?"
"I've done some digging on Kyle myself. But... it was spotless."
Clean as if he'd dropped out of the sky into the 8th District one day.
"I guarantee you—no one in Dun City but the mayor could pull that off."
"!!"
But put another way, it meant background checks on Kyle Clark were pointless beyond a certain point.
Everything tied to his existence was top secret within the Luther family.
'...Part of me wants to test the kid myself.'
This involved the highest clearance.
Kyle might or might not be a Luther, but some political imperative demanded airtight secrecy.
Digging openly carried risks even for Rockton.
'Above all, the project leans too heavily on him right now.'
One wrong move, and it could all collapse.
'But I can't just let it slide...'
From someone in the Marshalls backing Kyle, to the top secret tying into Luther's current turmoil—his gut screamed they weren't unrelated.
'...This project has to succeed.'
And to ensure that, Rockton couldn't sit idle amid the swirling suspicions.
"I didn't call you out here just to chew you out over a slip of the tongue."
Rockton projected a hologram from his terminal in front of her.
It depicted a woman with red hair and striking golden eyes.
"This is..."
"Lena Clark. Kyle Clark's late stepsister."
"...!"
"Hacker by trade. From the California New Alliance—moved to the 8th District a decade ago. Looks like she brought her skills with her."
Rockton councilor's eyes narrowed.
"With the mayor tangled up in this, I can't chalk her existence to coincidence anymore."
"You mean..."
"Inspector."
He said.
"The Surveillance Bureau's Level 1 database. Can you access it?"
"?!"
Yenitz swallowed hard in shock.
"Of course, I know the risks. That a Level 3 inspector like you has no business touching Level 1 without clearance."
Rockton councilor regarded her gravely.
"Call it a hunch, but this ties into whatever's brewing with the Luthers right now."
Indeed—they were all linked by one common thread: the 8th Special District Security Stabilization Project.
"So... something is happening in the Luther family?"
Rockton nodded.
"Likely."
And whatever it was, it wasn't good.
That's why he wanted answers.
The mayor's intentions.
Why—and for what reason—he'd buried Kyle Clark's existence.
Whether Kyle's penal unit assignment was pure chance.
'And the key to it all is probably...'
His gaze shifted to the woman in the hologram.
Lena Clark.
"I'm not forcing you. Skip it if you want. But if you're in, Rockton will shield your identity by any means necessary if things go south. That's my promise."
"......"
Yenitz hesitated a moment before replying.
"I-I'm sorry, but... could you give me some time to think?"
"Naturally. Take a few days, then let me know."
"Thank you."
Rockton averted his eyes from Yenitz and quietly swallowed a sigh.
'Lena Clark, Lena Clark...'
Looking back, her death had been the spark for everything.
That's when Kyle Clark emerged—and the project rocketed forward.
Meanwhile, the pro-project Marshalls were undermining it from the shadows.
The Luthers' shadow loomed over it all.
'Is this really coincidence?'
He couldn't say for sure.
The day after the godfather's arrest.
Checking my account balance, I couldn't help but whistle a tune.
Shadow account total: 700 million.
Thanks to the "Godfather Arrest" payout—300 million from Councilor Rockton, bonus included.
'This is way more lucrative than I thought.'
In the old days, scraping together this much in such a short time would've been unthinkable.
'Gotta stay in the bigwigs' good graces.'
Keep stacking it up like this, and I'd have a hefty nest egg before release.
'At this rate, I can scout a decent gravesite soon.'
Post-release, I'd need a place near school too—plenty to handle.
'Hope they toss me another side gig like last time.'
Earn while the earning's good.
Absentmindedly heading back to my room, I froze in place.
"Hey, what the hell. Where'd he snag a dagger like this?"
Walter was peering at "Nebraska's Poison Dagger" on the bed, utterly fascinated.
He swung it around—whoosh! whoosh!—marveling nonstop at the razor edge.
"Whoa... check out this honing. Filthy sharp."
Just as Walter moved to toy with it—
"Freeze!!"
I bellowed, face drained of color.
"??? Oh, you're back?"
"U-Uncle. Where'd you get that?"
"Huh? Just from the drawer."
"Why dig through my drawer!?"
"Hey, hey—just a peek. Drawer mix-up."
"Uncle."
"Yeah?"
Swallowing hard, I eyed his thigh—precariously close to the blade tip.
"That's a dagger forged from a Nebraska's fang."
"...Nebraska?"
"Monster with neurotoxin in its teeth."
Walter's brow furrowed—then he flung the dagger to the floor in horror.
"You fuck! Why keep something that vicious in the room?!"
"Right? Who touches other people's stuff..."
"Hey! Stash it! Where the hell'd you even get this?"
Snatching up the dropped dagger, I rolled my eyes.
"Uh... just fell right on my head?"
"What?"
Walter scowled.
"This punk at it again. Hey—cut the bullshit. Like a dagger's gonna rain down. Sure."
"No, it really dropped from overhead."
"Hey—if you don't wanna spill, don't. Fine."
"This one's legit though..."
Felt kinda wronged.
"Anyway."
Walter unfolded the gossip rag on the bed.
"How'd you really pull this off?"
Splashy headline: [Mafia Butcher Now Repels Demons Too?]
"Uh..."
As I mulled my answer, he thrust a hand up.
"No—hold up. Don't say it. I know exactly what you're gonna spit."
Walter grinned innocently.
"'Huh...? Just magicked it and it died?' Yeah? Skip it."
"Well, that's the answer—but c'mon, let me say it. Kinda rude."
"Hey! I'm the one bummed hearing your canned lines every time!"
"But this time, you were a tad off."
"How so?"
I jabbed at the "Rudixium Holy Sword" shoved in the corner.
"Not magic—slashed it with that, and it worked."
"Oh ho. Magic, now swords? Repertoire's growing?"
"For real."
Actually, one swing and it bugged out on its own.
Right then, the room broadcast blared.
[Ahem, broadcasting from the duty room. 3rd Company 43471, report to company commander's office. 3rd Company 43471, report to company commander's office.]
"!!"
Snapping my head up at the announcement, I told Walter.
"Gonna head upstairs real quick."
"Do what you want."
I bolted out, swiped my keycard on the security door, and climbed.
Knocked on the office door—Joseph team leader's voice came through.
[Yeah! Come on in.]
Stepping inside the familiar office, I saw Joseph team leader... and a new face.
A young guy in horn-rimmed glasses, looking every bit the gent.
He rose and offered his hand first.
"Kyle Clark, right?"
"Uh... yeah. Who're you?"
Shaking it, I asked—he introduced himself promptly.
"Pleasure. Samuel Miller, Intelligence Agency."
"Intelligence... Agency?"
"Sit, sit—let's talk it over."
Nodding to Joseph team leader, I took the seat across from Samuel.
"I asked Joseph team leader to bring you here because... I need a favor."
"A favor?"
Joseph team leader chimed in.
"Yeah—you know our original target was the Al Kimia Alliance?"
"Sure."
First police strike was their underground lair.
"But unlike the mafias, we haven't pinned down their org structure yet."
Hence the prior informant play for internals.
"Our Intelligence has been running ops separately—recruiting locals..."
"Then some intel we can't ignore rolled in."
"Can't ignore?"
Samuel nodded.
"Right. Al Kimia Alliance made contact with 'Akio's Torch.'"
"Akio's Torch..."
"Summoner cult—dead serious about calling gods. Pretty extreme."
Joseph grunted softly.
"No holds barred for their research—skills are legit. Demonic beast summons especially? Untouchable."
"Demonic beasts?"
"That basilisk from the Valone cash grab? Suspected Akio's Torch assist."
'Actually a chimera.'
No point derailing—let it slide.
If Akio's Torch supplied the base body, not entirely off.
"So... why me?"
"Informant's code says Al Kimia and Akio's Torch are teaming up for some push."
A push.
Heavy intel—no brushing off.
Joseph sighed.
"Trouble is—we got zilch on target, method, or date."
"Huh, why? Informant hold out?"
"Nah—sudden heat on the informant."
Samuel pulled a photo.
"Hours ago, code red from the asset. Means enemies know his ID."
He went on.
"Code red protocol: kill signals, evac to nearest safehouse, await extract."
"So the closest safehouse was here?"
Pointing at the thick woods in the pic, Samuel nodded.
"Yep. Black Forest, 13th District."
Black Forest.
8th District's biggest, darkest woods—towering trees block sun even midday.
Solid spot to stash a safehouse, hard to spot.
Finally clicking, I asked.
"Odds the informant's already toast?"
"Can't rule it out... but his intel's critical. Gotta recover if we can."
"Not just the push—likely their full org chart too."
Gold for hitting keys and gutting the org like the mafia summit.
"We were gonna handle with our tac team..."
Samuel eyed me.
"But Councilor Rockton vouched—and your support crew pushed hard."
"Support crew..."
"Gibson op backups—ring a bell?"
"Ah."
"They took a shine to you. Dying for a rematch."
"...?"
I just blinked.
I'd only followed orders.
'Eh, if they like me, cool.'
Samuel pressed on.
"Cooperate, and we'll comp accordingly. You proved it in Gibson."
Joseph team leader piled on.
"Life/death check: 100 mil. Corpse? Neural chip recovery +200 mil. Reduction standard."
"Live extract? Another 100 mil."
"...!"
Up to 400 million total.
'Sweet.'
100 mil just to confirm?
Total steal.
"You said the alliance linked with Akio's Torch summoners?"
"Yes."
"Monster summons possible on-site?"
"Can't rule out."
"Hmm..."
Handy—I had a big-beast specialist skill unlocked.
[Basilisk's Eye]
[Using this skill plunges D/E/F-rank mid/small monsters/beasts into 'Intimidation,' stripping their will to resist. Applies to beast-blooded subraces too.]
Mulled the description, scratched my head.
'Just scope it out, decide then.'
That's when—
"Informant's pic."
I stared at Samuel's photo, silent.
"......"
Informant: knockout.
'Screenshot.'
I burned a skill point, no regrets.