Chapter 156. Their Treatment (1)
The job wrapped smoothly.
After escorting Ronto, we reached the rendezvous alley. The man in the hunting cap from our arrival waited.
Approaching, he asked lowly.
“You’re here. Your pair got results?”
“No need to ask.”
April handed him the documents.
As he checked them, his eyes gleamed. April extended her hand.
“Pay us properly. Both of us.”
***
The rain stopped, and dawn’s starlight filled the sky.
The path to the station crossed a large hill.
April, tired, misread her device’s map, taking a different route, but we had time before the train.
Noticing her limping, I spoke.
“You’re staggering. Why?”
“Feet hurt. Arms hurt. Sleepy. A lot.”
Her sharp reply left me speechless. Unlike me or Sirocco, she lacked superhuman stamina.
No exaggeration, then.
“Ughhh, so tough.”
Stretching her arms overhead, she looked refreshed. Her pink hair rippled in the breeze.
“Even by your standards, this job was that grueling?”
“Honestly, didn’t expect it to be so intense. A one-day job this hard? I didn’t see it coming.”
“Why?”
She lifted her chin, cat-like eyes glaring.
“Hah! Thanks to someone working me hard?”
“You dragged me into this.”
“Tch, kidding, jeez.”
I glanced at her silently. She was oddly entertaining.
Her un-freelancer-like empathy played a part. Unlike her initial flippant impression, she was different.
“Coming here was worth it. Gotta grind hard, pour it into stocks! No failing this time!”
…Or maybe not that different.
Turning forward, I asked.
“So, this district job’s done?”
She didn’t answer immediately, shaking her head slowly.
“Honestly, it’s unsettling. Nothing’s resolved here.”
“…”
“2,000 non-mages? What’s that, a dog’s name?”
Her words dripped with disgust. I empathized.
2,000 non-mages.
Likely kidnapped and beastified somewhere. Horrific, no question. I felt no joy either.
“Honestly, as a mage, I can’t fully grasp non-mages’ plight.”
She added quietly.
“But this is wrong.”
Seeking agreement, she turned to me.
“Being talentless shouldn’t mean being treated like objects! Look at Ronto!”
“You’re a mage, saying that?”
“Hmph, call it hypocrisy, whatever.”
Shrugging, eyes half-closed, she said.
“I’m a district freelancer, not a philosopher. Just saying what feels wrong.”
“Planning to keep meddling here?”
“Hm, well.”
Groaning, she bowed her head, muttering.
“Job’s done, so I’ll figure out what’s next.”
The hill’s climb ended.
Looking around, the summit was a redevelopment zone, fenced off, deserted.
April stopped at a ruined park path’s edge.
A sign read [Falling Hazard] under a white streetlamp. We’d climbed high. I turned there.
A cool breeze grazed my eyes, revealing an open view.
The district’s horizon spread out.
April joined me, spinning to stand beside me, glancing up.
“You asked if I’d keep meddling.”
“Yeah.”
Sweeping her wind-tossed hair, she spoke.
“Honestly, we only learned why beasts appeared. What’ll happen here? No clue. Even if I wanted to, I can’t interfere.”
Shrugging, she added.
“…And I lack the skill.”
“Skill?”
“As a mage.”
Sitting on the railing, she pulled a sniper round from her thigh holster, holding it up.
The gold cartridge gleamed.
“This bullet can do a lot, but it’s not almighty.”
Her voice, uncharacteristically self-deprecating.
Lowering her arm, she glanced at me, a fleeting smile on her face.
“My gun and I are too weak to meddle everywhere.”
Perched on the railing, her pink eyes gazed at the world below.
“…Honestly, I envy the world you see.”
“Envy? Sudden.”
“Call it dawn sentiment. I’m exhausted, ready to collapse. Gotta talk.”
I nodded silently.
Fair. It was a grueling day.
No sleep, constant fighting and tension. Unlike me, doped up, her fatigue was no surprise.
She rose, approaching.
“Hey.”
“…”
Turning, her pink eyes met mine. Her disheveled, tired look held an unexpected allure, making me swallow.
Staring up, she spoke.
“…Honestly, I wish I had your genius talent.”
“Talent?”
“For magic, to be more than a district freelancer.”
She continued softly.
“You know the barrier mages overcome, right? Better than me.”
“Basic knowledge.”
“Magic’s a mirror of the heart. Like—”
Gazing dreamily, she said.
“—life.”
“Life.”
“Yeah. Wandering for answers to unsolvable questions. Reflecting, struggling, overcoming, with desperation.”
She laughed self-deprecatingly, dropping her gaze to her case.
“Guess I wasn’t desperate enough with magic.”
“…”
“As a kid, I wanted to be a great mage everyone dreams of.”
Reaching for the district’s starry sky, her eyes gleamed like a child’s, leaving me speechless.
“Living grandly, revered for magic, courted by Main Houses, rich. A cool mage!”
I looked at her arm. Starlight peeked through her slender fingers.
“But reality’s harsh. I hit my talent’s wall… After that, I couldn’t push magic.”
Lowering her arm, she smiled faintly, self-mocking.
“So I compromised.”
She caressed her case.
“Half-baked talent, relying on marksmanship, not magic. No wonder I can’t cross the barrier… But I scrape by!”
Glancing at me, her cheeks flushed, she smiled.
“…Just saying.”
Turning forward, she added.
“I’m a mediocre mage. More than I thought.”
“Really?”
I countered calmly. She flinched, turning.
“Huh?”
“I saw enough in the fights. Your shooting, hitting every target in dark rain without a miss. Isn’t that impressive?”
“It’s just marksmanship, not magic.”
“Isn’t it the result of effort?”
Her eyes widened, staring blankly, then tilted her head shyly.
“Maybe? Lacking magic, I fled to another path.”
“That led to this job’s success.”
“That’s…”
Hugging her case, she bowed her head.
“Honestly, I’m barely a sniper.”
She muttered darkly.
“I can’t do kilometer-plus trick shots, a sniper’s must. My limit’s a few hundred meters. I hit well within that, though.”
“So?”
I tilted my head. Her eyes widened, flustered.
“But that’s subpar for a sniper…”
“Your inability to hit kilometers out doesn’t matter.”
Grabbing her shoulders, I turned her, emphasizing each word.
“I’m no sniper expert, but I can tell. Your shooting talent today was exceptional, unique.”
“Tch…”
“Covering your weakness with marksmanship isn’t escape. It’s leveraging your strength, no?”
Her eyes rounded. Staring blankly, she muttered, dazed.
“You really think so…?”
I nodded.
No hypocrisy or lie.
What had Enoch Elsyde, gifted with the sword, done alone in the dark training room to overcome a magic-only society?
Unable to wield magic, he honed his talent, fighting a magic-driven world.
I understood.
April was the same.
Instead of lamenting her magic lack, she’d worked hard to compensate elsewhere.
Holding her shoulders, I met her eyes.
“No need to downplay your effort.”
She stared, trembling, then turned away sharply.
“Tch, don’t say that to my face! I started it, but it’s embarrassing…”
Grumbling in a looser, tired voice, she tucked her hair behind her ear.
Her white ear was red. Her embarrassment wasn’t fake.
“…Anyway.”
Glancing over, she smiled, eyes half-hidden by pink hair.
“Thanks for saying that. Sincerely.”
Her cheeks stayed flushed. The expression must’ve been genuine. She’d answered despite it.
I felt our distance had closed.
Stepping back, she glanced sideways, cautious.
“…Back to business. My take? We have to step back, like it or not.”
Narrowing her eyes, she turned, looking annoyed.
“I’ve got no way alone.”
I spoke slowly.
“There’s a way.”
“Huh?”
She looked up, surprised.
“You said one bullet can’t do it.”
I asked lowly.
“If you could fight with others, what would you do?”
“Hm.”
Her tired voice sharpened. She replied quietly.
“I’d seize it.”
I nodded.
That’s what I wanted.
Confirming April’s prowess was a reason for coming.
From the mill Scavenger raid to saving Ronto.
I had two combat goals.
One: gather Scavenger intel.
Two: vet potential talent. I’d reached my conclusion.
“Why ask?”
“One thing.”
I looked at her, puzzled.
“Keep your schedule open. I’ll contact you.”
“Huh?”
Her eyes widened, staring, then she cupped her mouth, disbelieving.
“Contact? Really? When?”
“A job.”
Her eyes cooled, nodding hesitantly.
“Haha, yeah, figures?”
“I can connect you to Elsyde. Pay’s good. Likely a Main House job.”
“Nice. Money’s great… ugh.”
She glared, annoyed. What’d I say to irk her?
…No idea, no need to know.
Warm orange light bathed her hair and cheeks. She turned, eyes wide, to the district’s skyline.
“Oh! Sunrise!”
“Seems so.”
I looked too.
Dawn came to the abandoned city. The sun rose, piercing the long night.
Gazing at the blue-orange horizon, I steeled myself.
The real fight began now.
Had I prepared enough? Could Enoch survive this brutal world?
The future would test me fiercely.
As always, thorough planning was key.