#044. Where Malice Gathers (1)
Rey stacked books neatly on the table using telekinesis and asked, "The bookstore. When will it open?"
Veronica, who had been watching in admiration, snapped out of it and answered, "Huh? Oh, probably after lunch. I'm just taking a short break before heading down. Then I'll clean up and organize the shelves."
"Then I'll go out for a bit. I'll read these books when I get back, so leave them as they are."
"Huh? Where are you—"
Rey left the bookstore before Veronica could finish her question.
Ding-a-ling.
The sound of the bell echoed behind him as he quickly made his way through the streets.
His destination was 2nd Street.
The basement of Building 32-1.
'According to Johnny at the diner, that man's routine hasn't changed. He goes out at the same time every morning and evening to run errands and then returns.'
The fight in the basement had been five days ago.
After that, a series of other incidents had kept him too busy to return and investigate further.
He had gotten a rough update from Johnny, but he still needed to see the scene for himself.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
As he continued moving, the number of people on the street rapidly decreased.
It wasn't long before he arrived at 2nd Street, located on the sector's outskirts.
Rey entered a diner with a faded hotdog sign and took a seat by the window.
"Rey! If you were coming today, you should've told me! Are you here to eat? What'll it be?"
Johnny, the freckled boy, came running over with a menu and order slip in hand.
His eyes sparkled with almost overwhelming admiration as he looked at Rey, his chest filled with longing and aspiration.
"The same as last time. By the way, what about that man?"
At Rey's question, Johnny glanced out the window at the building across the street.
Then he leaned in close to the table and whispered, "That man came out of the basement at 10 a.m. today, not 7. Three hours later than usual. This has never happened before."
The current time was 10:12 a.m.
Meaning the man had left the basement just twelve minutes prior.
"There was talk of a fire a few days ago. Could it be related to that?"
"Maybe. Anything else unusual besides the timing?"
"Hmm... When I saw him passing by, he was smiling. Kept muttering something to himself. 'Time to leave?' That's what his lips looked like they were saying."
Rey fell into thought.
A man who lived like clockwork suddenly changed his routine?
'Is this related to our fight? That talk about it being time to leave...'
Rey pieced together the man's words and the contents of his letter.
"'Boss... Like a blazing flame in my life... It's already been... since the boss expelled me from the organization...'"
The man had been expelled from the organization.
"'The crimson stone I received... Still, I can grow stronger...'"
He seemed intent on enhancing the crimson stone's power.
"'Well, no matter. If I kill an executioner, even the boss will have to acknowledge my strength. Keh keh keh keh.'"
He clearly wanted to prove his worth and return to the organization.
'...Is it time for him to leave this place and return? Because he's gathered enough sacrifices?'
The man had been using street children as sacrifices for his plans.
Considering the exploitation magic in his ring, this likely tied directly to strengthening the crimson stone's power.
His gang now approached sixty-six members - the exact number he'd mentioned.
If I were that man...
'He'd be expecting Cedric to report the recruitment quota has been met during this visit.'
Thud!
When Rey looked up, Johnny was already placing a steak platter on his table with a cart nearby.
First things first - eat while thinking.
Rey reached for the knife beside his plate with that thought.
Thud! Thud!
Or rather, tried to reach for it.
Other platters began piling around his steak at alarming speed.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"......"
Within moments, the table overflowed with dishes.
They might as well have brought out the entire menu.
"I only ordered the steak."
"Other kids did."
"Other kids?"
"Yeah. Hotel kids. Gang members from around here. Lots of them prepaid to treat you whenever you visit."
Johnny added they could keep this up for at least ten more visits.
"......"
Not exactly flustering, but certainly unprecedented.
Rey had always been someone children feared, not someone receiving gratitude or respect.
"Well, enjoy your meal! Let me know if you need anything!"
As Johnny disappeared with a cheerful smile, Rey turned his attention to the food.
Clink. Clink.
Though he normally ate modest portions without particular preferences, the variety wasn't unwelcome.
'Balanced nutrition is crucial for growth,' according to a book he'd skimmed at the bookstore.
Humans generally grew until adulthood through proper nutrient intake, though some stopped earlier - unlike Rey, who was still growing taller.
Having survived on minimal meals until now, he resolved to pay more attention to his diet moving forward.
Height and physique were critical combat factors.
'Need lots of meat to build muscle.'
Chomp.
He chewed vigorously on a questionable piece of meat, consciously forcing down faded vegetables and fruits.
By meal's end, his thoughts about the basement dweller had crystallized.
Thud!
He set down his utensils and headed for the exit.
"Huh? Leaving already? There's still so much food left."
"I'll be back. Just need to check something."
"Besides, even ten Jefers couldn't finish all that."
...Right?
Ding-a-ling.
Rey crossed the street to Building 32-1 and stood before the basement stairs.
"......"
Mercrad-related clues lay below.
Current time: 10:23 a.m.
Thirty-seven minutes remained until the man's usual return time - ample for exploration, but no guarantee he'd stick to routine.
Could Rey win if they clashed again?
He shook his head.
The man had two rings to Rey's one, and Rey still lacked objective metrics for his own ring's mana capacity.
His eyes caught movement in a nearby alley - three slouching boys from the Jefers gang chatting.
Rey approached them with his best attempt at a smile.
"I need a moment with you."
“What the… who the hell is that…?”
The gang turned their heads and froze in place.
“I-It’s the h-hunter!”
“H-Him? No, why’s he here?”
The gang dropped their tough-guy act and clasped their hands politely in front of their stomachs. They whispered frantically among themselves:
“H-He looks fucking pissed.”
“Shit. I-I told you not to come down this street! This’s the hunter’s patrol route!”
“H-He’ll turn us into h-half-cripples! Like Jeph on that stretcher yesterday!”
Contrary to their panic, Ray neither threatened nor attacked. He simply led them out of the alley and issued one order:
“S-So we just wait at the street’s end and run to alert you when your target appears?”
An absurdly simple task.
“Yes. Do this well until I finish, and you’ll be rewarded.”
Ray pointed through a restaurant window at a table where barely touched food remained – they’d only picked at their meals.
“You can have it all.”
Carrot and stick.
Philip’s advice proved brutally effective.
“R-Really?!”
“We can eat all that?!”
The gang’s eyes burned with sudden fervor. Ray watched them scramble to their posts before descending the basement stairs.
Soot stains covered the steps and walls. At the bottom loomed a massive lock that hadn’t been there previously.
“…….”
Ray immediately channeled mana into the keyhole as before. An unseen force repelled it outward – security magic. He kept trying.
Time blurred until—
Thudthudthudthudthud!
Frantic footsteps echoed above. A gang member appeared, signaled urgently, and vanished. Reluctantly, Ray ascended.
Outside, a familiar figure approached from the street’s end – same coat, same shoes.
He used mana-shielding when I tried burning him alive.
Ray nearly slipped away when realization struck:
Last fight, I wore a hood and mask.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The man muttered to himself, eyes fixed on the ground. Any closer and their gazes would meet—
Ray stayed rooted.
Basement’s dim. I stayed silent during the fight. He might not—
Thud. Thud.
Time dwindled. Certainty grew.
…He doesn’t know me.
Years of slum survival screamed it. Ray leaned casually against the entrance wall like any street kid, head bowed.
Thud. Thud…
Footsteps halted before him. Ray glanced up as if noticing the man for the first time.
The sly grin from earlier had vanished.
“…….”
“…….”
Tension thickened the air. Neither flinched.
Thud.
The man turned downstairs.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
CLANK-CLANK-CREAK—CLANG!
Iron doors groaned. Ray waited thirty seconds before exhaling.
He didn’t recognize me.
Priceless intel. After staring at the beast-maw door below, he left.
Ray’s days overflowed. Wake in the car, quick meal, exercise, then magic lessons at the bookstore.
“Theory hinders you. Recreate my spells your way.”
The old man’s magic conjured concrete-like gray stone – floating staircases, impassable walls.
“Unremarkable magic,” he admitted. “Not flashy nor powerful.”
A lifelong scholar, he’d avoided combat unless unavoidable. His elemental magic favored defense over offense.
“Born hating violence. Couldn’t change it.” He chuckled. “Many share this – not weakness, but wisdom. Victory isn’t always about fighting.”
The boy frowned. Combat meant clear winners. How else prevail? To this slum-hardened youth, the words sounded as absurd as Grandma Viola’s paradise tales. No – five Violas’ worth of nonsense.
“That’s not how it works.”
