Chapter 66: The Old Man and the Rock Deer (4)
The person escorted in by the bodyguard was Skyle.
“Sir, I need to tell you—”
Skyle, who had been about to greet John, clamped his mouth shut upon spotting Ray’s group. His face slowly stiffened.
“The guests… arrived before me.”
Immediately after parting with Ray’s group, Skyle had been plunged into conflict.
‘From their behavior, they’re clearly heading to meet John, the client.’
‘What if they let something slip? Like how the mercenaries abandoned the request to go hunting.’
‘Just disclosing the request details could cause problems.’
Most crucially, his "grand plan" risked falling apart.
After agonizing, he’d turned his car around and raced to Sector 48 with subordinates.
Vroooom——!
Though he maxed the speed, his delayed start left him unable to catch Ray’s group.
He’d rushed to the hotel the moment he arrived, praying the vicious mage and self-harm extortionists hadn’t already met the client.
“A reunion, isn’t it? These guests came seeking you after hearing your story.”
But his prayers seemed unanswered.
Skyle bowed deeply, wearing genuine remorse.
“My apologies. I unintentionally disclosed request details. Let me explain the circumstances—”
“Enough. A man like you must’ve had reasons.”
John waved dismissively with a boisterous laugh. Seeing this, Skyle’s tension dissolved.
‘As expected—a senile old fool.’
A smile tugged his lips. His meticulous courtesy during their first meeting had paid off. John had not only granted full control over the request’s execution but remained oblivious to failures. Had he invoked contract breaches, things would’ve grown complicated.
But Skyle couldn’t relax yet. He still hadn’t unraveled the mage group’s motives.
“It’s been pleasant having conversation, but I’m curious about these young ladies and gentlemen…”
John’s gaze slid toward Ray. Simultaneously, every eye in the room followed.
A peculiar tension bloomed.
“Mercenaries.”
“Hmm.”
Unlike before, John didn’t laugh. Instead, he narrowed his eyes with an inscrutable smile.
Skyle’s pupils dilated.
‘Mercenaries?’
The term itself was plausible—many started young. The issue was their being mages. He’d heard of groups like Hella or McKaither Mercenaries employing mages—entities leagues above Skyle Mercenaries—but never of one using a boy this young.
‘Could he belong to an unknown group? But with such skills, he’d be famous.’
Dozens of human-head-sized fireballs materializing midair—power rivaling any mage he’d witnessed. Such talent couldn’t remain anonymous in mercenary circles. Two possibilities: either "mercenary" was a lie, or this boy hailed from an upper sector beyond his reach.
“Lying’s a bad habit,” John remarked, stroking his chin. “The mercenary world isn’t kind enough for refined folk like you to thrive. Right, Skyle?”
Skyle stayed silent, inwardly sneering.
Foolish old man. Can’t even recognize a mage before him.
Meanwhile, Ray found the situation intriguing.
‘Earlier, fine clothes helped at the hotel entrance. Now they backfire.’
Had he worn Skyle’s dust-covered attire, they might’ve believed him. Not that he was truly a mercenary—he’d simply adopted the role as convenient cover for encounters during travels.
“Can’t someone dressed like this be a mercenary?”
“Not impossible. But typically, mercenaries carry weapons and have experience…”
John’s words died as he flinched.
Crackle!
Sparks erupted throughout the room.
“You mean weapons like this?”
“...!”
Everyone froze.
Sinister blue currents formed a dense web—one twitch away from electrocution.
“A mage? But I didn’t sense mana movement—how?!”
The young bodyguard’s mutter drew attention to the glowing ring on his chest—he too was a mage. Though he’d gathered mana, shock left him paralyzed, staring at Ray.
“B-but no Circle is detected! What are you?!”
Ray could perceive the guard’s Circle, but the reverse wasn’t true—he’d manipulated ambient mana without using his own.
‘Another mage.’
This bespectacled practitioner marked his fifth encounter after Veronica, Graham, and Walter.
‘I’ll speak with him later. Might learn about the Rainbow or Mage City.’
Ray addressed John calmly.
“Does this suffice as a mercenary’s weapon?”
In the spark-free room, collective sighs of relief echoed. All knew their lives had hung on a boy’s whim moments prior. The young guard radiated defeat, his vessel brimming with helplessness.
“So… you want to assist the request?”
“Yes.”
Ray’s explanation was simple: the blue Rock Deer might connect to his personal quest. He wished to join the search.
John’s gaze toward Ray had transformed entirely—he now understood the might mages wielded.
‘And this one surpasses even Mikhail.’
Though uncertain if Ray was truly a mercenary, their aligned goals seemed genuine. John glanced at Skyle, the operation’s leader.
“They want to join the search.”
Skyle’s lips twitched. Outwardly smiling, his mind raced.
His feelings toward Ray’s group were far from friendly—two subordinates injured, extorted for hefty repair fees. For money-grubbing Skyle, this was akin to flesh being torn away.
But if this mage belonged to an upper-sector mercenary group…
‘Building ties could yield benefits. 250,000 shillings would mean nothing then.’
Skyle Mercenaries had been confined below Sector 40 due to territorial disputes. With powerful backing, expansion would be effortless.
First, secure them. Verify their status, then exploit any weakness.
Masking excitement, Skyle answered courteously:
“Of course. We’ve struggled with dangerous beasts along the Rock Deer’s path. A mage’s help would be invaluable.”
Exiting the hotel, Phillip fretted:
“Is this safe? Partnering with resentful people?”
Veronica’s worried glance seconded the question.
“It’s fine. Better than wandering the wilderness alone.”
Ray’s resolve held firm. His worldview divided people into predators and prey.
Skyle isn’t a predator.
Ray recalled the emotional tremors Skyle had emitted—fear, terror, shock. Vulnerabilities Ray knew how to exploit, having spent his life devouring predators disguised as prey.
‘He holds hostility toward me, but…’
Their prior clash explained that. Regardless, Skyle’s threat level was negligible.
Strangely, Skyle’s animosity toward John was overwhelming—near-murderous intensity. Even stranger, John mirrored this toward Skyle.
“Phillip—how do John and Skyle seem?”
“Huh? Well… John trusts him deeply.”
“Veronica?”
“Same. John doesn’t even know his hired mercenaries ditched the request to hunt.”
Conclusion: their outward rapport masked entirely different inner thoughts.
“But John seems so kind. He’s spent his life trying to improve the world.”
Veronica—who sought cures for demonic corruption—had been moved by the elder’s ideals. Observing her sincerity, Ray silently disagreed.
Approaching their lodgings, a gang blocked their path—five leaders summoned by Ray’s earlier provocation.
“T-that’s him! He’s got the money—eek!”
Previously beaten lackeys hid behind their bosses, who glared at Ray.
“Bullshit! This runt beat multiple crews?”
“Hand over the cash. That’s why we’re here.”
Ray produced the coin pouch.
Clink!
A high-value coin danced on his finger, ensnaring every eye.
Snap!
He pocketed it, deliberately shaking the jingling pouch.
Greed overwrote the boys’ suspicion.
“Know how much is here?”
“H-how much?!”
“A million shillings.”
“A-A million?!”
Ray pondered their rabid desire.
Money’s just a tool. Why such obsession?
Having manipulated others via currency without understanding its allure, he finally spoke:
“Follow me. If you want it.”
