Chapter 151
Chapter 151
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 151
Chapter Title: The First Contract
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Her light brown hair sparkled like ripe barley under the sunlight.
It was a shade closer to gold than brown, but not quite the perfectly bright blonde of Cecilia's. Plenty of room for it to look like different colors depending on the angle of gaze.
"......"
Her hair, styled in rolls with ends curled tightly like croissants, swayed lightly in the breeze. Ian tilted his head and gazed down at her for a long moment.
'She mentioned Walter. She's connected to Laplace.'
This was his second encounter with a Laplace member. The first had been Eddie, and though it was somewhat difficult, he'd succeeded in severing the bastard's head. He was still making thrifty use of it even now.
One more addition here wouldn't make much difference. In fact, since he hadn't managed to extract Eddie's eyes, capturing her and removing her eyeballs would let him properly test the Dying Eyeball's effects.
Or he could slip a collar around her neck via the Contract Scroll. The conditions were tricky, but not impossible. Just using the summoned Circulator would be enough to beat her into near death without much effort.
'First things first—subdue her, then decide.'
Kill or capture—it didn't matter. Now that he'd clocked her as a Laplace mage, he couldn't just look the other way. Knocking her out first and then determining her fate was the right call.
Ian organized his thoughts, summoned the Deep Sea Chronicles, and conveyed his will to the Circulator.
Telepathy only usable while wielding the grimoire. He couldn't hear the Circulator's thoughts, but one-way communication was plenty.
'Grab the human in front of you and knock her out. Don't eat her.'
The Circulator nodded and charged straight at Marianne. She'd already guessed Ian's identity and let out a scoff.
"So you are a mage. Summoning type—"
KABOOM!!
Before she could finish, the Circulator slammed into her head-on. Marianne's body flew without resistance and crashed into the wall.
An impact that would've burst a normal human body to pieces. But no blood splattered on the ground, and her voice didn't fade.
"—looks like it. Though I can't tell what it's based on. Marine life? Some kind of anomaly derived from that?"
Amid the crumbled building. Dust and concrete debris scattered where she'd embedded herself, yet her calm voice echoed out. The mic-like reverb made Ian crack a faint smile.
"Your voice has turned anomalous too. Did you transplant an anomaly's vocal cords or something?"
"......And you're fine hearing it. Impressive mental fortitude."
Crackle...
Through the gaps of the collapsing outer wall. Marianne emerged unscathed, her clothes only slightly torn.
Her only injury was a half-dislocated arm. For a collision with the Circulator, she looked far too pristine. Ian quickly realized it was due to the magic woven into her outfit.
Probably a spell that absorbed impact alongside the fabric.
With magic intricately threaded into every fiber, defending against mere physical force was child's play. If the Circulator had some special ability like the other outer sea creatures, it might be different. But as a brute-force type that relied on sheer mass, it was inevitably vulnerable to such defenses.
The Circulator grew larger with each death, losing the abilities it had when smaller.
But no matter how strong the defense, enough hammering would eventually tear it apart.
Her arm had shattered from a single body slam—how long could it hold up in a real fight?
No way.
"Go rip her apart."
Ian dismounted the Circulator's back and gave the order.
The Circulator grinned, splitting its lips wide. Black seawater mixed with blood and saliva dripped, forming a reddish-gray hue. Marianne stared as she sprayed her mangled arm.
"Not an anomaly, huh. I get it after touching it once."
Sizzle.
Red liquid from the spray soaked the wound. Flesh, blood, and bone began regenerating from nothing. The grotesque sight of tissue reforming from thin air made the Circulator chuckle low at its prey's self-repair.
"......Laughing? It has the intelligence to smirk? That's interesting—"
Before she finished, the Circulator blurred forward, clamped down on her regenerated arm, and thrashed its head viciously. Saw-like teeth severed bone and muscle in an instant, and it gulped down the limb whole.
A mage who'd modified her body, sure—but still flesh that once held ether. The Circulator, tasting mage meat for the first time, drooled madly as bloody steam vented from its bulging veins. Ian sat on a nearby bench to watch, lighting a cigarette.
"Don't kill her. Got something to try."
The Circulator ignored him, instead scraping the ground with its claws while glaring at Marianne pinned beneath it. She clicked her tongue and bit off her own tongue with her teeth.
Crunch!
Blood sprayed. Spreading crimson enveloped her body. In that instant, it melted into red paint, flowing across the ground. Ignoring the Circulator, the liquid slithered toward Ian.
The classic counter to a summoning mage—target the caster first.
Marianne reformed into flesh and swung a fist at Ian.
"Got you."
A punch that could shatter boulders. Staying still would've turned his head to pulp like a watermelon, but Ian didn't even glance her way.
Instead, he pulled the trigger.
BANG!!
A deafening roar punched a hole through his coat, the lead slug piercing Marianne's hand. Momentum spun her body like a top, bones and muscle shattering and spraying everywhere.
"Mage hack. Fireball."
Exhale.
Ian blew smoke with a smirk. Marianne, caught off-guard by the gun, twisted her face in rage.
"You goddamn mongrel mage...!"
"Outrageous. It's legit magic passed down in America."
Rat-tat-tat!
Ian clamped the cigarette between his front teeth and fanned shots at the fallen woman. The hammer battered the cylinder repeatedly, muzzle flashing in bursts.
Thud-thud-thud. Massive bullet holes bloomed across Marianne's body. But she didn't die—instead, she swallowed her own blood and chanted.
"Idol of mystery! As your master, I command thee—devour the life here!"
A spell in French. One eye melted away, and a massive eyeball floated into the sky.
Like a sun replacement. Ian felt intense PTSD and ordered the Circulator.
"Get that out of my sight."
The Circulator leaped, slashing the floating orb to shreds with its claws. Transparent fluid popped! like rain, and it swallowed the gushing blood while crunching the fragments.
"Huh?"
Marianne, blood streaming from her eye socket, face contorted—she hadn't expected her spell dismantled so crudely.
She'd sacrificed part of her body, granting the magic tremendous power.
A instant-kill gazing at the eye would shred the viewer's own, morphing their brain into a giant orb. Indiscriminate on humans, beasts, or anomalies—she'd used it to end things fast despite the cost. Yet it vanished without effect.
"I-I'm Marianne! I won't allow cheap tricks like that to counter my magic!"
She spat in French, indignant.
Ian couldn't care less. He stomped her bleeding head into the asphalt, then pointed at her knee and shoulder.
"Rip this, shred that."
The Circulator obeyed instantly, devouring all four limbs in a flash. It burped contentedly, and terror finally hit Marianne—her sole remaining pupil quivered.
'Dangerous...!'
Teeth chattering, blood pouring from stumps—she'd assumed victory.
Marianne was an elite who'd always ranked top at the Clock Tower. She'd never even lost a fight, a record unbroken even after leaving.
Until today.
"Why didn't the magic activate?!"
She thrashed.
Guns? Sure, some mages used them. She'd fought them before.
But none had shredded her skin and clothes with bullets. Guns were just support—incapable of decisive blows like—
"Ah."
The thought clicked; she vomited blood.
"The magic... it's gone. Destroyed...?"
Not by the gun.
Before that.
Most vanished in the first clash with that monster, the rest when her arm got torn off.
That's why the bullets worked.
Just two hits, and the spells—worth billions in investment—were gone.
"......"
Impossible. The dress magic could tank a plane crash, handcrafted by a renowned mage—a national treasure spell. Destroyed by that summon alone? Ridiculous.
"......Cough."
But reality screamed otherwise.
What she deemed impossible had already happened.
"Ah, aah...!"
Terror etched her face.
Having forgotten death, she felt it for real now. Blood draining in real time, pain crawling from stumps, body cooling. Lips mashed into asphalt, she screamed.
"P-Please! Spare me! I'll do anything! Please! Don't kill me!"
Ian tilted his head curiously at the unexpected plea.
"A noble mage groveling like that? I wouldn't."
"Spare me! I'll do anything! Lick if you want, spread if you say! Please...!"
"Now I see you're no noble—just a cheap mage."
Ian tsked, grinding out his cigarette on her crown. She groaned in pain as he stopped the Circulator from flaying her back with its claws.
"Enough. More and she'll bleed out."
"Sucks, but no. You've eaten plenty. Best dishes are savored in small bites, got it?"
The Circulator nodded and stepped back, sitting like an obedient dog. Ian squatted by Marianne's head and rummaged her belongings.
Nothing worth keeping. Just a baggie of drugs, two recovery sprays, and three blood regen vials like Yuna used.
He pocketed the sprays and force-fed her the vials.
"Want to live? Eat."
"Gulp!"
Marianne gulped them down desperately. Ian looked down at her pitiful, almost pitiable form.
"Choose. End up a head for my materials? Or pass out. But when you wake, your personality gets tweaked a bit."
"......"
Marianne's frantic chewing stopped dead.
No good options.
Hellish rock and a hard place.