"There are a lot of people here."
Stepping out of the vehicle, Osian spoke in a calm tone as he surveyed the bustle around him.
His demeanor was met with disgruntled glances from some of the North Blinders.
Why on earth would this guy be with them?
Especially those who had been beaten by Osian and injured for weeks.
Of course, behind his back, so Osian didn't care.
The sight of him made them swallow hard.
It was director Balud, not anyone else, who had brought this man here.
United by their loyalty to Balud, they didn't complain, thinking that he must mean well.
Objectively speaking, Osian was a strong fixer, so having him around would reduce the chances of danger."Wow. That's a mess."
Illua's eyes lit up as she slung a large bag over her back.
She wasn't a very large woman, but carrying an expedition bag the size of the top of an eggplant drew a lot of attention.
Balud's men were eager to ask her why she was carrying so much.
But they couldn't ask, because he had solemnly warned them.
-You are not to speak to the client.
-Well, is there a reason?
-If you ask her with such a stern face, she will be frightened.
It was a cruel thing to say, but it was also true.
"Do you really need to pack that much?"
Osian asked, when no one else would.
The team members clenched their fists inwardly as Osian scratched an itch.
"Uh, this is the materials we need to explore the ruins, this is the emergency rescue kit in case something happens inside, this is a magnifying glass, this is the cryptogram, and this is another......."
"Isn't that almost all useless stuff?"
"No, they're not! They all have a use......maybe."
"If you ask me to lift it later because it's heavy, I won't."
“There are many people who will listen besides Mr. Osian!”
Illua's gaze turned to Balud's men.
They hummed and coughed and averted their gaze.
‘If you're going to use it, why are you already trying to give it to someone else?’
They resented this moment when they weren't allowed to point out common sense.
“Don’t bother others and take care of what you have.”
Of course, Osian was having none of it.
‘This guy. He's better than I thought.’
‘He can do what we can't do with such nonchalance.’
Balud's men gradually began to like Osian.
"Yeah. It's the old days, boys get together, they get into arguments and maybe break a bone or two.
They dress up in their best suits and act as polite as they can, but at the end of the day, they're Northerners.
They can't help the macho part of them.
"Mr. Osian, I'm your employer, and you don't even feel sorry for me?"
"I feel sorry for you, so I'm trying to protect you."
"If you'll both focus, we're about to begin."
Balud intervened between the bickering Illua and Osian.
The gathering was in a large clearing, and beneath the clearing was a large, apparently half-collapsed crypt.
It was the entrance to the ancient ruins the Archaeological League had discovered.
‘Ancient ruins in the middle of the city.’
I couldn't believe there were ruins so close to the city, not in the middle of nowhere.
I realized how big Tirna is.
"All those with tickets, please gather this way!"
A man from the Archaeological League shouted over the loudspeaker.
It was finally time, so the people who had been checking their weapons and getting ready moved.
"Wow. This is a strange crowd."
Ilua didn't hide what she was thinking.
Judging by the quality of the people gathered here, she had good reason.
The warlocks in black robes were members of the Warlock's Union, while the wizards seated elsewhere bore a single logo on their robes.
‘That's the logo of the Grand Cloister, a magic academy.’
[Grand Cloister]
It's one of the two academies in Tirna.
While the [Caligo Biblio] trained and taught warlocks, the [Grand Cloister] taught mages in general.
It has a long history, but surprisingly, the Caligo Biblio was built first.
Wizards have long been gathered in schools, forming towers, and leading a somewhat closed life.
As a result, they were a bit far away from the general public.
It was then that the warlocks founded the Caligo Biblio, an educational institution to unite and teach, and to have their rights recognized by the world.
Their motto was simple.
Anyone who wanted to become a warlock could come here, whether commoner or noble.
It was a radical idea, considering that wizards were the preserve of the upper classes.
Wizards scoffed at the warlocks' behavior, but it didn't take long for them to change their minds.
As the years went by, the number of warlocks grew, and many of the graduates were extremely talented.
Conversely, the growth of magic was slowed by its closed nature.
The long history and tradition of the mages did not allow the warlocks to catch up easily, but the mages knew it was only a matter of time.
So the mages and the schools joined forces to create a unified institution that would bear their name.
‘It's called the Grand Cloister.’
Being a magical academy, naturally, most of the people there were fairly young.
'Similar to Elise, or maybe a little younger.’
They're academy students undergoing training, so they might seem immature, but they're not.
To become a mage in this age of mana users, it meant that you had to be extremely talented.
Talent is such a big part of it that it makes age and experience irrelevant.
It was safe to say that all of the academy students gathered there could do at least one person's share.
Among them, a pair of men and women with lemon-colored hair caught Osian's attention.
They were at the center of the gathering, naturally leading the group.
‘Judging by their resemblance, they must be siblings. And judging by the way the people around them react, they must be the strongest among them.’
It was then that Osian made eye contact with the male of the two brothers.
His first impression was that of an arrogant nobleman.
His sharp, sharp features showed that he was handsome, but his piercing eyes made him seem quite dirty.
His eyes widened at the sight of Osian, and he glared at him as if he were an enemy.
‘What is it?’
Osian turned around, wondering if he had mistaken him for someone else but there was no one behind him.
The academy student was glaring at him.
‘Does he recognize me?’
In truth, Osian had never seen him before. No wonder he had no contact with the [Grand Cloister].
Even if Osian wanted to ask him if he knew him, he had already left, so he decided to let it go.
‘The military is watching.’
To one side, I saw heavily armed soldiers.
Their weapons were all high-powered, qualitatively different from those used by the fixers.
Pouch packs were filled with all manner of gunpowder, and one soldier wore a belt in the shape of an X on his top, a belt filled with slug shells for his shotgun.
Iron caps on their heads, cloudy goggles over their eyes and iron masks over their mouths.
You'd think they were going to war.
‘We'd better watch out for them.’
Some had hired mutants, while others had brought in regular corporate people.
Looking at it this way, North Blinders felt shabby.
That's how important the people exploring the ruin are.
"Get ready."
With a snap of his fingers, Balud ordered his men.
His men moved in unison, grabbing weapons from the trunks of their vehicles.
The men in suits, with their harsh looks, were armed with tommy guns and other firearms, but it gave them a certain air of respectability.
"The entrance is narrow and crowded, so it's going to take a while to get in, even though we've been given a ticket to enter in the first place."
"Apparently, we're pretty far down the line."
"Well, there's no point in going in first anyway, there could be dangerous traps in the ruins or Guardians inside."
As Osian and Balud were talking, someone approached Illua with exaggerated steps.
“Haha! Who is this! Isn’t this Illua who only stays in her room! Why on earth did our moldy young lady come all the way here?”
Ilua's expression changed; her shoulders slumped and her gaze dropped to the ground, as if she was confronted with something uncomfortable.
Standing in front of her was a middle-aged man with a sturdy build.
His pleasant-looking smile was tinged with contempt.
By his reaction, it was clear they knew each other.
"I've heard the story. I heard your father was injured and is recuperating in the hospital. Is that why you've come all the way out here?"
"Uh, why?"
Ilua timidly protested, but it was a futile struggle.
"Kid, this is no place for a weakling like you. Surrender your ticket and leave now."
"Who are you, I'm fully capable of doing this!"
"Ha. Is that why you brought people here? That's funny."
The sarcasm in the man's voice deepened, enough to make Osian's expression harden slightly as he listened from the sidelines.
"So it was the mafia that brought you here? I'm surprised. You've been secretly receiving sponsorship from a criminal organization? Don't you have any pride as an explorer?"
"Well, that's none of your business."
"What? Ha! What do you mean, it's none of my business? The Archaeological League isn't the only one that's being maligned because you are in bed with dirty people!"
At the mention of filthy people, Balud's men sputtered but Balud held up his hand to stop them.
They had no choice. If they made a scene, they would be ostracized for their poor public image.
Instead of rising to the provocation, Balud played it smart: He remained silent, unperturbed, and unaffected.
"Hmm. At least you still have a rolling head."
The man who had deliberately provoked him snorted at Balud's cool response.
"If you come in, I won't stop you. But whatever happens inside is on you. You've never been in the field before, and I doubt you'll come out alive."
"......."
"Pity your dad in the hospital, tsk tsk."
Ilua's expression changed from sullen to as if she was about to burst into tears.
Taking that as an opportunity, Osian stepped in just as the man was about to shove her further.
“Hey, hairy guy.”
"What? Are you talking to me?"
The man who'd been arguing with Illua had taken offense at Osian's insult.
Sure, he had sideburns and a long beard, but he didn't deserve to be called that.
"You've got a long tongue before we've even started. Are you that scared?"
"You asshole!"
Does it mean that it's okay to provoke others, but you can't tolerate it happening to you?
Hairy face turned red as he stalked toward Osian.
Osian curled the corner of his mouth up at him.
"Go ahead."
As he placed his hand on the sword at his waist, a shadow flashed between them.
It was a man with an expressionless face. The man, who appeared to be in his early twenties, stood in Osian's way with unfocused, inorganic eyes.
"Who are you? Get out of the way."
As Osian spoke, Ilua tugged at his sleeve.
"Him, him. He's an enhanced human."
An enhanced human.
Osian remembered that they were those who used Tirna's science to make their bodies stronger.
They were a different breed than the modified humans.
Whereas the modified humans only turned their bodies into machines, the enhanced humans were more expansive.
They were those who artificially embraced a biological evolution beyond humanity.
And it was the Institute of Life and the School of Mages in Tirna that made it possible.
"That's enough. We're about to enter, so don't make too much noise."
Hairy was forced to step back as his hired enhanced human stepped forward to stop him.
"Chet. I know."
Osian stroked his chin thoughtfully with his hand as they retreated.
‘An enhanced human. He gives off a slightly strange vibe.’
Osian's eyes turned sharp.
At that moment, the enhanced human turned his head and made eye contact with him.
Osian didn't like the look in his eyes.
*
"Damn it, why did you stop me? I could have gotten rid of that pesky thing if I'd done a little more."
"Do I really need to bother telling you?"
"Well, why not?"
“If it’s a thorn in the eye, we should definitely get rid of it. No one will care what happens in the ruins.”
A smile formed on Hairy’s lips at that.
"Hmph. I like that."
"Don't worry. Those cocky fixers and mobsters will be torn apart like rats and birds, especially that fixer bastard, I don't like his eyes."