Chapter 52
Chapter 52
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 052
Chapter Title: Class 1 Database
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The stealth helicopter jolted with a thunk! right as the pilot's voice faded.
But the flight remained astonishingly quiet overall. Mask glanced out the window for a moment before asking,
"If he's the chief of staff to the Marshall representative's office, doesn't that give us grounds for involuntary accompaniment as evidence?"
"For now."
"We should notify the support team of this the moment we land."
"Still no radio?"
"The weird weather in Sector 12 is messing with transmissions. We'll probably need to clear the area before we can get through."
Rain nodded at Meat's words, then turned to Nikola, whose eyes were now rolling back completely, and said,
"See if you can squeeze anything else out of him."
"On it."
Meat plopped down in front of the mini-computer linked to Nikola's head and started hammering the keyboard.
Meanwhile, Kyle crouched in front of Nikola and rummaged through his pockets, hoping for any other clues.
'Hm?'
Something oddly shaped like a stone caught his fingers.
Kyle pulled it out and tilted his head.
"This is..."
"Looks like a magic artifact."
"Magic artifact?"
Rain approached at Meat's words and examined the stone in Kyle's hand.
A red light blinked over his cybernetic eye.
After a quick scan, he spoke up.
"Definitely... looks like a magic artifact."
"What attribute?"
"Dunno."
"Looks like a dark attribute magic artifact," Kyle said.
"Dark attribute?"
Rain reacted with clear unease.
"Figures an assassin from the Viper Guild would carry something shady..."
"Can I keep it?"
"Sure. Just get it safety-checked by the support team later to make sure it's not rigged with anything weird."
'Oh, sweet.'
Kyle eyed the artifact greedily.
'Scoring a dark attribute magic artifact here? Talk about good luck.'
And it packed attack magic to boot—perfect.
Anything else, and he couldn't have learned dark attribute spells anyway.
He pocketed it just as...
...the pilot's voice announced, followed by familiar messages popping up before Kyle's eyes.
On top of that, Kyle mused,
'Pretty sure I died once there.'
He recalled Nikola slashing his chest with that weird sword.
'But I didn't feel a thing.'
He'd only sensed it instinctively—that he'd died and come back.
'What the hell was that?'
"!!"
"Wh-what the hell does that mean!!"
In an officetel in the central administrative district, Max Edinger yelled into his phone after getting the report from the Viper Guild.
"The mission failed? Is that for real!?"
He looked up in disbelief.
"The backup team confirmed the final protocol activation...?"
The final protocol was exactly what it sounded like: Viper assassins triggering it in dire straits to uphold security protocols.
In other words...
'They failed to kill the Bearwolf...?'
There was no other explanation.
Furious, Edinger bellowed,
"What kind of botched job is this! I didn't tell you to charge in and hack away at the Bearwolf! I even handed you a surefire way to kill him nicely, and you failed? Does that even make sense?!"
No creature could survive having its soul severed—not even a Bearwolf.
So the only conclusion...
'These moronic assassins... couldn't even swing a sword right?!'
The Viper hit squad had completely flubbed the ambush.
A sudden thought flashed through his mind, and Edinger demanded urgently,
"S-so the cursed sword? What about the cursed sword? You recovered it at least, right?!"
But the response froze him solid.
"What?"
He lifted his head and muttered,
"...Found in pieces?"
Panicking, he shot back,
"It wasn't broken by the Bearwolf, was it? Shattered doesn't prove it was used...!"
"!!"
[No magic power left. That means the cursed sword was definitely used!]
"Th-that can't..."
The shocking revelation left Max stammering.
'The cursed sword was used.'
Meaning they'd somehow slashed the Bearwolf.
'But then why the final protocol?'
It sounded like the Bearwolf survived the soul slash, leaving them no choice but to trigger it since even escape wasn't an option.
"Impossible...!"
Not even a Bearwolf could...
"You know damn well there's no being in this world that can survive a soul severance...!"
"What could be worse than this?!"
"What?"
"...!!"
Right then—
Thunk! The officetel's power cut out abruptly.
Max looked up in the pitch-black room.
'Blackout?'
But it wasn't just the power.
"Hello? Hello?"
The call dropped suddenly. As panic set in, a chilling voice came from behind.
"Looks like you failed, Max."
"!!"
Whirling around in shock, Max saw the Marshall representative lounging on the sofa—he had no idea when he'd entered.
"R-Representative?"
His eyes trembled with confusion.
"Wh-when did you..."
"Did it work?"
Max swallowed hard at the question before answering.
"S-seems so. But Representative! That Bearwolf... something's off. The cursed sword was used, but he didn't die! This is..."
"So what do you think it is?"
"P-pardon?"
Marshall rose smoothly and approached, asking,
"What do you think it is, then?"
"I-I..."
"Survives ancient elven magic, lives through demons..."
As he closed in, Max backed away involuntarily and collapsed onto the sofa.
Marshall's hidden right hand came into view.
It held a small revolver.
"!!"
Black-suited figures emerged into the living room.
Marshall's lips moved.
"...I suspected as much. Even a cursed sword infused with the Wraith King's grudge failed."
Seeing it, Max shook his head frantically, pleading,
"R-Representative! Give me one chance—just one! I'll get the Mafia Butcher this time, I swear...!"
"Answer me, Max."
Click. Marshall leveled the barrel at his mouth and asked,
"So, what is the Mafia Butcher, exactly?"
Max's eyes quivered violently.
His face paled, breath quickened.
Then—
As if realization dawned, his eyes widened.
'...Immune to ancient elven magic.'
Survives demons, untouched even by wraithly power.
There was one such being. In this world... in just one place.
"...Luther?"
Marshall's lips curved into a smile.
"That's what I think too."
From the day it survived the demon.
He'd wondered if maybe...
"!!"
Marshall reversed the revolver and placed it in Max's hand, guiding it slowly under his chin—like suicide.
He said,
"I'll take good care of your family."
"......"
At the blatant threat, Max's trembling lips parted to ask,
"C-can I ask one thing?"
"What?"
"...If you really thought that, why assign the job at all?"
Marshall smiled.
"Because he might be Luther."
"!!"
Bang-!!!
"......"
"......"
Marshall stroked the glove on Max's limp right hand as his head lolled back, then stood.
"Handle the cleanup."
"Yes, sir."
One of the black suits nodded and added,
"Representative, the Central Secretariat called. Rockton Representative requests another audience with the mayor."
"Again?"
Marshall chuckled.
"Third time already? That guy's getting impatient."
He turned to leave, saying,
"Tell him to wait until the next regular session. Family matters make it impossible now."
The suit bowed.
"Understood."
Meanwhile, Inspector Lyn Yenitz headed to Surveillance Division HQ, struggling to calm her racing heart.
It stemmed from her recent call with Rockton Representative.
- Have you decided?
"Hoo..."
She stared at her computer screen.
'Rockton says it's unlikely, but...'
After that bold prison stunt, she was more convinced than ever that 43471 was Luther's bastard.
Why else would Luther Mayor personally cover up Kyle Clark's existence?
'There has to be a reason. Something forcing him to hide his own bloodline in absolute secrecy.'
And if that reason tied into the current Luther internal strife, as Rockton suggested...
'Lena Clark...'
She couldn't be uninvolved.
Yenitz steadied herself with a deep breath.
'Okay. I can do this.'
The data viewing room for the Surveillance database was on the floor below, level 4.
She grabbed a random inspection file from her desk and left the office.
Even with everyone buried in work, the place was eerily quiet.
'Surveillance Division just isn't the same anymore.'
From constant high-level meetings to the stiff bureau chiefs.
The rank-and-file were on edge too.
'Feels like something big's brewing...'
She rode down to 4 quickly, exchanging natural greetings with passersby.
"Morning."
"Hey, heading to the viewing room?"
"Yeah."
"Busy times, huh? With the project and all..."
She brushed off the small talk and entered the empty viewing room.
Perfect.
At the terminal, she pulled a USB from her pocket.
'Unauthorized access to Class 1 database is forbidden, but...'
If she wiped the logs via the cleaner before they hit the central server, she'd be fine.
Plugging in Rockton's USB, she swiftly accessed Class 1 DB.
She hesitated before the barebones UI, then typed.
"Hmm."
'Kyle Clark' yielded the same.
'Then...'
She tried image search with Lena's photo from the USB.
Beep! A results window appeared.
"...!!"
It showed another photo of Lena Clark.
A younger, more sullen face seething with rage—unlike the one from Rockton.
Clicking it, Yenitz gasped.
'Different.'
Not just the name—Rockton had said California Newalliance.
'Tennessee Federation? That's the opposite side of the continent.'
Scrolling down, her eyes bulged.
'Luther assassination? Class 1 terrorist?'
The bombshell history she'd never imagined made Yenitz clap a hand over her mouth.
'...Kyle Clark's stepsister.'
What?
That's when—
A soft footstep sounded behind her, followed by an unfamiliar voice.
"What exactly are you looking at?"
"?!"