Chapter 99

“Stay still.”

“I’m trying. But it tickles like crazy, so how am I supposed to stay still?”

“If I slip with the brush and the magic circle gets distorted, the spell that comes out of your fingertips might turn into something else entirely.”

“For example?”

“There was a fool in my master’s laboratory who made that exact mistake. Thanks to him, the Imperial magic community was gifted a new formula.”

“What kind of formula was it?”

“A formula that lowers the elasticity coefficient of one’s own brain tissue to the level of pudding. The idiot who discovered it by accident collapsed on the spot. When they performed an autopsy to find the cause of death, they found his brain looking like crushed slime…”

“Shall we just agree not to use magic circles for anything from now on?”

“Absolutely not. Do you have any idea how much time I wasted drawing this far? If you don’t want to die, think of yourself as a statue.”

I decided to think like that. We were currently engaged in an experiment to prove my theory. What Lucille was doing now was drawing a magic circle on my back. The liquid on her brush was liquefied mana.

She had applied a special coating to my back before drawing. If she just applied it directly, my skin would absorb the liquefied mana, right? It would be a disaster if the crystallization symptoms worsened because of that.

But perhaps because of that coating… the brushstrokes felt even more ticklish.

‘I wish I hadn’t even asked Lucille what happens when a magic circle goes wrong.’

Now, I had to fight not only the tickling but also the fear of death.

“I’ve come so far. It would be a problem if my ending is dying with my brain turned into jelly.”

“Shut up. You’re distracting me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The work only finished after several hours had passed.

“Nngh…”

I twisted my neck back as far as I could to check the state of my back.

“It looks fine in the mirror for now, but what if I’m looking at it backward and failing to see an error? Like, what you thought you drew in the right direction was actually reversed and… Argh!”

Instead of retorting, Lucille simply kicked me in the knee. I hopped around, clutching my leg.

“Ack! Ow! What was that for…!”

“Want me to kick the other one?”

Along with the question, her foot flew out again. I barely managed to dodge it.

“Why?! Why are you hitting me?!”

“Because that seemed like the best answer to your nonsense.”

“What?!”

“It’s short, simple, leaves no room for debate, and is a reality that is extremely skin-deep. It’s much better than a boring, pedantic answer.”

‘Well, it certainly was felt directly…’

“Anyway, if you don’t want to get hit a few more times, go ahead and use it.”

Lucille said that and handed me a pouch. Inside the pouch were seven glass vials containing small portions of something.

“What is this?”

“Your quiver.”

“Quiver?” I asked in a dazed voice.

Lucille let out a deep sigh and glared at me.

“…”

“What is it?”

“I was contemplating whether I should kick you again.”

“Let me state clearly right here: I prefer the boring, pedantic answers over that ‘good answer’ of yours.”

She reluctantly began her explanation.

“That is a mixture made by refining the materials necessary for the preparation of the [Coagulate] formula. …Stay still.”

As she spoke, she slowly moved behind my back. Her fingertips brushed against my bare skin.

“Break one vial and then chant the spell’s incantation. Then, the phenomenon we expect will likely appear.”

“Can I use the formula while skipping the payment—that is, the increase in blood-mana concentration?”

Lucille nodded at my question.

“In exchange, the magic circle on your back will be consumed along with the broken vial.”

“Seven vials of the mixture, and seven magic circles drawn on my back… So that’s why you called this a quiver.”

In short, these glass vials in the pouch and the magic circles on my back were a simplified preparation for using the [Coagulate] formula. Lucille placed a plate on the table in front of me and poured liquefied mana onto it.

“If you understand, try it. The incantation should be the same as the original. Probably.”

That ‘probably’ made me feel unnecessarily anxious. Couldn’t she give me a bit more certainty?

…Of course, if I said it like that, I’d obviously be kicked again. I just kept my mouth shut.

But then—

“Ow! Why did you hit me this time?!”

“How are you supposed to chant if you keep your mouth shut?”

“Ah.”

I pointed at the target with the middle finger and thumb of my right hand. With my other hand, I picked up a glass vial and dropped it on the floor.

—Crash!

—Crunch.

Treading on the shattered vial, I slowly and carefully… recited the incantation.

“Distance, confirmed. Position, confirmed. Target, set…”

“Fire.”

Without a gunshot, a flame, or a cloud of smoke. An invisible bullet was fired and collided with the target. Naturally, I couldn’t see the moment of impact.

However, everyone, including myself, witnessed the result of that collision.

—Splash.

A private soldier collapsed with a dull thud.

He was one of the enemy soldiers who had been blocking the narrow passage with a shield. His comrade seemed completely unable to read the situation. He stared down at the fallen soldier with a look of utter bewilderment.

Meanwhile, I grasped my second bullet.

—Clink!

—Crunch.

“Distance, confirmed. Position, confirmed. Target, set.”

Loading.

“Fire.”

Then, even the second soldier holding a shield collapsed, planting his nose into the sewer floor.

The two had fainted without a single omen. The witnesses remained submerged in a dazed silence as if they were fast asleep. It was my third bullet that finally woke them.

I shifted the dagger I had been holding in a reverse grip in my right hand to a forward grip and raised it high.

“Everyone! Charge!”

That was the third trigger.

Responding to my signal, the soldiers sprang forward like bullets. Both formations had been densely packed behind the lead shield-bearers. With the front line collapsing in an instant, our side crashed into the enemy.

In the front, men fell as they became shields for the enemy’s blades. In the rear, it turned into a chaotic mess as they tried to flee. The enemy’s formation crumbled in the blink of an eye.

And I had to watch it all with a heavy heart. I watched the scene of living created by my own hands.

Naturally, it was Adele who was waiting for Malik when he stepped out of the room.

“That took a long while. Did you handle it?”

“One shot between the eyes. Thwip.”

Malik held up his unloaded hand crossbow. He then walked past Adele toward the exit of the building.

“Now that the old man is handled, the Council is as good as finished. Now we just need to go find that woman.”

But at that moment, a chilling sensation brushed against the back of Malik’s neck. Adele’s sword was pointed at him.

“Hmm. I was going to ask two things. But because of what you just said, I now have three. I’d rather not talk to you for long, though.”

“Let me guess what those questions are. Where ‘that place’ is, what the ‘old question’ is, and who ‘that woman’ I just mentioned is.”

“Oh. Good. No need for a long explanation then. Spill it all.”

“Before that, I’d appreciate a polite apology for eavesdropping on my conversation.”

Instead of answering, Adele simply kicked Malik.

“Ouch! What was that for?!”

“I heard this is the ‘good answer’ that’s trendy these days.”

“What…? I really don’t understand young people lately. I’m an old man; show a little consideration, physically and mentally.”

“Stop the chatter and answer. You’re already no different from a traitor to me. If you want to clear your name, you’d better answer faithfully.”

Adele pressed the tip of her blade closer. Malik felt like he could sense the gap between the sword and his neck without even looking. It was likely narrower than a single knuckle. Yet, Malik didn’t seem frightened at all.

“The old question. Shall we start with that?”

His voice sounded somewhat detached.

“What is the difference between Shane Astrier and Malik Seredin?”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“You asked. What is the ‘old question’ that old fogey mentioned? That’s it. Why am I me, and why are you you? Why was my father a mercenary in the Lower District, while Shane’s father was Alejandro Astrier?”

“If you’re trying to stall for time with strange Zen riddles, you’d better stop here.”

“Sounds like a strange Zen riddle, doesn’t it? But it’s actually a quite profound question.”

Malik wagged his index finger.

“Many people wonder. Why am I me? It might sound like a bunch of fluff, but if you change the wording just a little, it becomes very familiar. For instance… ‘What is the reason for my deficiency?’”

“Deficiency?”

“Yes. Deficiency. Poverty, loss, deprivation, innate disabilities. Call it what you want. People wonder about the things they weren’t born with and the things others have possessed since birth. Why? What causes this difference? Eh? Adele?”

Before she knew it, Malik had turned around to face Adele. She realized it a moment too late. She raised the tip of her sword more threateningly, but Malik seemed completely unmoved by her reaction. He simply spoke.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t say your strength is entirely thanks to your own effort. The Emperor’s Hunter. Then just what makes you so special that you were born that strong? Why did God grant you such natural talent?”

“…I don’t understand the intent of your question.”

“Why else? It’s because you did many good deeds in your past life.”

“…?”

Adele narrowed her eyes, a furrow forming between her brows.

“How about that? Isn’t it a convenient answer? The fact that you’re strong, that Shane is so extraordinarily brilliant, that I was born as my father’s son, that the Upper District is prosperous, and that the Lower District is so pathetically poor—all of it.”

Malik’s finger pointed upward.

“It’s all because of our past lives.”

Adele nodded as if she finally understood.

“Ah, that ‘old question.’ I get it. In the end, that’s what it was. You, the Underground Council, and the people of the Lower District. You were all just dissatisfied with being poor. So you wanted to demand an answer as to why the Upper District lives well while you don’t.”

“Exactly.”

“And you weren’t convinced by an answer about past lives—something even a cockroach wouldn’t believe. There is no reason for innate wealth, poverty, or status. The Upper District has no inherent right to enjoy abundance, and the Lower District has no responsibility to suffer in poverty. That’s why you’re trying to start a rebellion against the Upper District… is that it?”

—Clap, clap, clap.

Avoiding Adele’s sword, Malik brought his hands together low and made a sound.

“Indeed, you deserve to be Shane’s right hand. I thought you only used your body, but you have a decent head on your shoulders too. That is also correct.”

“No. I’m on the slower side. But you seem even stupider than me. Do you really want to spout nonsense about flipping Denabi upside down just because you fell for such a foolish question?”

Malik shrugged. “Well, why not?”

“Then what about the person who envies my martial arts? Can they cut off my arms, steal my sword, and make that power their own? No. They can’t. What about someone who envies the Young Master’s wisdom? If they pull out his brain and eat it, will his intelligence become theirs? Again, not at all.”

Adele continued.

“The way to obtain what you weren’t born with isn’t by stealing from others, but by cultivating what you already have. Follow the Young Master quietly. He will become a good lord. And he will help you people in the Lower District become like that too.”

“Perhaps. But a Lower District that grows by eating Shane’s grace will no longer be the Lower District. That isn’t what we truly want.”

“Stop with that nonsense—”

“Adele. You are part of that ‘we’ as well.”

Malik cut her off.

“What…?”

He spoke suddenly.

“The Lower District is necessary for you, too.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the Emperor’s Hunter. I have no connection to you people—”

“You love Shane, don’t you?”

Adele gasped. Malik was wearing a faint smile.

“For your sake as well, the Lower District must exist. Only then will Shane have a need for you.”