Let's Do One Thing (4)
The Elf Management Bureau was in an uproar the moment the broadcast cut off.
"Seol-yeon! How'd the stream go?"
"Please wait just a moment. We're... handling it right now."
"Bullshit! What the hell happened? That voice at the end—it was an assassin from the Association, wasn't it?"
"Yes. I'm aware."
Baek Seol-yeon responded to her boss's rage-filled questions in her usual flat tone. But the response didn't get to finish.
BAM!
Her boss slammed his fist down on her desk and bellowed. He seemed on edge from rumors of upcoming layoffs—he'd probably be demoted out of this department soon. The country apparently hadn't shared any intel with this incompetent guy.
...If you're gonna dump this on me, at least pay me hazard pay.
She imagined demanding compensation for becoming her boss's emotional punching bag.
"What if that elf had gotten killed? You gonna take responsibility? Huh? Baek Seol-yeon!"
He looked ready to spit in her face. It wasn't unreasonable for her clueless boss to be this furious and chew her out—elves were key assets from their perspective.
In an era where magitech was the backbone of industry, gates were like suddenly discovered massive diamond mines. And not just any mines—these regenerated diamonds endlessly no matter how much you dug.
Desperate for cash, tons of clueless people rushed into gates, and it wasn't just folks from the other world crossing over.
Most who entered purely for the money died on their first raid.
Inside those insanely dangerous gates, mages—especially elf mages—were priceless. Detection, firepower projection, you name it.
With no weapons bigger than personal firearms allowed inside, they were invaluable.
And that wasn't all. Elf mages had been crucial to magitech's development and still were.
But gauging their abilities was incredibly tough. Humanity had zero knowledge of magic back then and couldn't even screen out the useless elves.
Time passed, and they got better at weeding out the duds, but one gap remained.
Spotting the powerhouses.
Elves, unlike humans, rarely flaunted or bragged about their power. Made it hard to tell.
This solo stream had been planned to gauge Yang Jia's strength. Things had gone smoothly right up until then.
They'd observed her elemental magic's power and even her mana stone detection skills.
"……"
Smooth sailing—until now. The assassin's appearance was within upper management's expectations anyway.
But then shit hit the fan. The broadcast gear malfunctioned. It couldn't handle the momentary mana surge and shut down temporarily.
Right at the perfect moment when the assassin's voice came through, cutting off the feed. Viewer chat exploded nonstop, and no one knew when the equipment would come back online.
Sigh... I had a feeling it'd go down like this.
It was top-tier broadcast gear that had withstood a high mage's mana storm.
Yet even that couldn't endure the mana she briefly unleashed outward.
...I kinda knew it deep down.
Elf Management Bureau. The place where Korea's super-elites gathered. The reason a woman in her mid-to-late twenties like her held such a key position was simple.
A rare constitution that let her read others' mana flows and attributes. A byproduct of growing up in a gate-heavy outbreak zone.
So from the moment she was assigned to Yang Jia, she'd seen it.
The monstrous mana reserves clashing with her pathetic, airheaded facade. And an alien attribute even her eyes couldn't fully parse.
She'd never shown it, but Baek Seol-yeon had a hunch. Yang Jia was something extraordinary.
She probably didn't die. And she didn't kill him either.
After years managing and watching her, Baek Seol-yeon could say that with confidence.
No massacre like everyone here assumed would happen.
Yang Jia had zero chance of losing to an assassin, and the Yang Jia in her head wasn't the type to kill so easily.
What actually worried her was something else.
...A busted broadcast rig is gonna be a real pain.
There were only a few of those expensive units even in the Bureau. As a civil servant, she didn't sweat salary or bonuses, but this would be a huge hassle.
High-and-mighty politicians would be dropping by nonstop for a while.
Any guy who's done military service would get just how annoying that'd be for her.
"Haa."
She let out a deep sigh and cracked down harshly on the rampaging chat window. Praying desperately that the broadcast gear would reboot without a hitch.
Drip—drip drip—
Rain was falling. A downpour cascading from the sky. Visibility outside was shot thanks to it.
Or more accurately, it wasn't really the "sky"—calling it a "ceiling" might fit better.
"Some heavy rain, huh."
I eyed the pounding drops while glancing at the elf who'd come to kill me. He was slumped in a corner, no longer moving.
Not dead. Just passed out from enduring my overwhelming mana output.
"Did this a lot back in Yggdrasil, but didn't think it'd come in handy here."
Even in the Misty Forest, Association elves had trespassed into my woods plenty of times.
Not wanting pointless conflict, I'd knock them out with raw mana output and send them packing.
This way, they didn't die. They just lost a few hours of memory before blacking out, and their mana circuits burned out, halving their output.
By the time he woke, he probably wouldn't even remember why his power was nerfed.
"Anyway..."
I slipped the ring off the collapsed assassin's finger. It held a purple gem pulsing with intense spatial mana.
Guess this ring's power let him neutralize my barrier and get close. Pro assassin move.
"...A magitech tool made with spatial mana."
The stuff I'd only heard about. I wasn't that interested, so I didn't know much, but apparently it was treated like magic gear these days.
Market was flooded with fakes and shoddy knockoffs, but this seemed legit—used a real mana stone.
Pop!
The genuine gem shattered instantly. Ring from an Association assassin—who knows what nasty spells were on it.
"Made with mana stones or whatever, huh."
Supplying it mana made it crumble, confirming it was real. Once the ring's mana faded, so did the assassin's.
Swish—
I stood up. Couldn't stay here forever.
Had to head upstairs. The rain was making the pine trees outside grow wildly, climbing the ruined walls.
"He'll figure it out."
I left the knocked-out assassin there and climbed the stairs. His mana circuits weren't totally fried, so danger would wake him.
Not my problem anyway—he came to kill me.
Step—
On the way up, I fiddled with the busted broadcast gear a bunch. No response.
Mashed the start button dozens of times, but it stayed dead.
"...Maybe it's for the best that it's broken."
If that scene had aired live, I'd be public enemy number one in seconds. I cut it off on purpose after confirming the outage.
Decent elemental mages existed, even if rare. But no one handled spatial magic at that level.
Soon as I stepped out, I'd be swarmed for handshakes and small talk—a lifetime crisis.
Not happening.
"Time to bail."
Kept climbing, following thick concentrations of spatial mana.
Combining viewer tips, the exit likely had spatial mana too.
Faint reactions dotted around suggested more loot spots, but escaping took priority.
Especially with the broadcast dead.
Step—
Clutching the precious broadcast gear tight, I ascended the final stairs.
Turning my head, I spotted the men's restroom glowing faintly purple.
BOOM! RUMBLE!
Just as I headed for the exit, a big explosion rocked the stairs below. I paused briefly, but that was it.
Hummm—
Stepping into the restroom, the outside world unfolded before me.
Emerging from the dungeon, the clothing store from entry greeted me again.
Sunset had fallen outside. Orange twilight filtered through shattered windows into the shop.
Stepping out, I sensed movement behind me. Whipping around, I saw a hooded figure in a zip-up, cap pulled low, smoking a cigarette.
"……"
He stared at me a moment, then stubbed out his smoke underfoot. Turned and walked off like nothing happened.
Down below, the driver was waiting, leaning against the wall under the eaves, smoking.
"Ah, Yang Jia! Glad you made it out safe."
Spotting me, he grinned welcomingly. I felt a few guys closing in, but he noticed first and barked a warning.
"Scram, you punks! She's with the Bureau. Wanna lose your heads?"
He flashed the knife scar on his forearm to intimidate them. They reacted more to "Bureau" than the scar.
"Sorry about that. Lowlifes trying to scam mana stones from gate hauls. Won't budge unless you scare 'em like this. Bastards."
He apologized for his rough talk. I just nodded curtly—no words. Looked like he'd dealt with them before.
"Let's go."
After a quick greeting, we boarded. It was late; roads dim in twilight.
The driver didn't ask about the gear. Their eyes lingered on the busted unit briefly, but that was it.
I stowed the bulky equipment in the trunk, then sprawled across the back seat. Hadn't used much mana, but my body felt drained, breaths shallow.
"……"
In the rumbling car as it started, I gazed out the window.
There was that hooded guy again, watching us. Hood off now. His blank face fixed on the car.
I brushed off his stare and closed my eyes.
"Hoo..."
Deep breaths to steady myself. Headache throbbed since exiting the gate. The driver noticed and spoke first.
"If you're beat, catch some Z's. It's a haul back to the Bureau—takes time."
Yeah, probably should. Strength drained right out. Eyelids like lead. No energy to reply—just nodded faintly and slumped. Sleep crashed over me hard.