A dream is a piece of flowing sand.
Under the burning sun, all you can see is an endless stretch of sand.
Where do we come from and where are we going?
What you see above the clouds are the last words of the souls of dying people.
Sweat drips down from the burning thirst.
In the sky, black birds circle around, waiting for the moment when they might die.
The rumbling steps soon sank into the sand, and I lost my balance. My body fell into the sand. Before I could taste the rough, gritty powder in my mouth, lethargy engulfed my body.
Alas, I might as well rest here.
If only those birds would peck at my flesh, it would ease the heavy burden of pain.
Too scared to think about it, someone pulled him to his feet and lent him a shoulder.-Wake up. Are you going to stay here and die a senseless death?
It was a bright voice that can be heard clearly even in a desolate world.
You must be at your limit, but you never show weakness.
The ivory hair blowing in the searing wind reminds me that this isn't all hell.
-We go home alive. No one dies, no one.
The moment he hears those words, the dream ends.
The man wakes up and looks down at his sweat-soaked body.
He gasps for air and is forced to bow his head at the pain that burns through his eyes and into the back of his skull.
After a few moments, the pain subsided, and he was able to recall the details of his dream.
“A terrible nightmare.”
Rising from the bed, the man immediately grabbed the weapon in the room.
It was a sniper rifle with a clunky and long barrel, made to kill enemies from a distance.
Black as if molten from the darkness, it looked far more ferocious than its intended use as if it had taken on a form befitting its wielder.
The man stepped outside, gun in hand, and spoke to the inky blackness.
“Time to move.”
Red flashes of light rose from the darkness.
“Let's go. Let's find a fight.”
*
“So what? What happened next?”
It was a pouring afternoon.
Unable to keep still in her seat, Lorraine stretched out her face and asked curiously.
“What do you mean?”
Osian asked, not sure what answer she wanted.
He hadn't been able to figure out what she wanted from him after the last time he'd shown her around Legor and explained what had happened to the North Blinders.
“Oh, come on. You know, that.”
Lorraine smirked and made a ring with her thumb and forefinger.
The blatant gesture gave Osian a cold look, but it also answered his questions.
“I told you everything. I was promised a strong drink, and I left, and that's the end of it.”
“What?! You're lying, you're kidding me!”
Lorraine scrambled out of her chair in disbelief.
Her gaze turned to Osian, and she realized she was looking at an alien, not a human.
“I thought I told you I'd been paid enough for the commission?”
“What, you really settled for a rain-soaked cigarette and the promise of a strong drink?”
“Add a drop of tears to that.”
“Oh, my God, yes, I didn't realize that was important!”
“Yes, you didn’t. A man's hot tears count.”
“Argh!”
Lorraine slapped her chest as if something had gotten stuck in the back of her throat.
Osian crossed his arms, his gaze filled with displeasure.
“It's my commission in the first place, so how I get paid is purely at my discretion.”
“If that's the case, then just volunteer!”
“I'm a fixer, after all, so I should be paid.”
“Don't you know that a fixer who works more for less is a fool?!”
Lorraine slammed her hands down on the table in frustration.
Diolan, who had been listening, jumped to Osian defense.
“Come on. I like being romantic.”
“You shut up!”
Diolan pursed his lips.
Lorraine closed her eyes as if she had a headache and pressed her fingers to her forehead.
“Hah. So listen, as a fixer, it's of course your discretion what you do with a request, but if you cut corners like that, you're asking for trouble later.”
“What would you call a problem?”
“Word gets around. Think about it. Imagine if you took on a job like this for a cigarette. And then a few days later, some asshole asks you for a favor, also with a cigarette.”
“No matter how great the country is, it does not accept such a request.”
“Yeah, that’s true. But what about other people? Shouldn’t they be asking questions instead? Why don’t they do it for me? That person did it for them, so isn’t that unfair? It’s okay for them to do it. Just ignore it and let it go. The problem is that such things are eating away at the entire industry.”
“My behavior? Isn't that a bit of a leap?”
“Too much of a leap.”
Lorraine snorted at Osian's retort.
“You really don't realize how awesome you are, do you?”
“That's.......”
“I understand, because the scale of what you've actually accomplished is almost unbelievable. That's why it's gotten less publicity than it deserves, but even so, you're a huge rookie in this industry that everyone's talking about...no, I don't even want to call you a rookie anymore.”
Osian has solved a lot of big cases in his time as a solver.
He's solved one case after another that most other fixers would only come across once in their career.
His success was enough to earn him a reputation that he could drink to for the rest of his life.
“But look at what you're doing. If you're a super-rookie who's known in the industry, and you're accepting work for a cigarette, how will others see you? It's not hurting you, but it's killing the new fixers.”
Clients want better fixers to work for them.
They'd rather have someone who knows what they're doing than someone who doesn't know anything.
But there's a practical problem.
There's a real problem: money.
The better the fixer, the higher the price.
If you're going to spend money and fail, you should get what you pay for.
Naturally, the less skilled the fixer, the lower their price.
That's why the industry rarely uses rookies, or if they do, they're used as meat shields or substitutes somewhere.
The rookie position is better.
Rather than a newbie, they were skilled persons who had proven their skills in the industry.
What Osian did this time was a blow to rookies in general.
“You were only paid that much, but what would other people say to a rookie who was worse than you? Even super rookies were only paid this much. Are you better than a super rookie? You should lower your fee. Don't forget. In Tirna, money comes first. That's the reality.”
After listening to the explanation, Diolan nodded in agreement.
Those who are recognized by the industry become a kind of 'barometer'.
The commissions they receive and the price they are paid become the overall reference point for the market.
Naturally, as a super rookie, Osian would have to set the bar high for the basic ransom.
It was something he had to do, even if he didn't want to.
“Setting the commission fee is also a job.”
“Yes. So if you accept a job in the future, make sure you get paid well.”
Osian and Diolan were shocked.
Lorraine had gotten so worked up about fees, and it was because she was concerned about the younger fixers in the industry.
“I see. I'm sorry I didn't know. I didn't realize that the reason you were so open about the money was for the good of the industry.”
Osian said apologetically, and Lorraine's eyes widened in confusion.
“Eh? It's not like that. I just like money.”
“.......”
“It's so good to have a lot of money, you can eat lots of delicious things, buy lots of things you want, money is the best, hehehe!”
……Give me back my sorry feelings.
Just as Osian was about to get serious, Violet Fox's door was opened with a rattle.
“Is Mr. Osian here? The address says this is the right place.”
There are three people in total.
I assumed it was a client, but judging by their attire and demeanor, they weren't here to ask for help from the Fixer.
“I'm Osian.”
“Ah. This is the right place.”
“And what brings you to me, then?”
“We're late introducing ourselves. We're real estate agents.”
Lorraine's ears perked up at that. Her instinctive gut told her they smelled money.
“Real estate agents? Why on earth would you want that?”
Lorraine asked, but Osian didn't know what she was asking.
Did he have anything to say about real estate? He couldn't think of anything.
Then a middle-aged man who introduced himself as a real estate agent offered Osian something.
It was a written document.
“There is a building available for rent in your future, Mr. Osian.”
“In my future?”
Osian glanced at the document. It bore the seal of approval from the city of Tirna, as if this wasn't just a scam.
They wouldn't lie outright in a place like this, so that must mean the seal was real.
“Let's see. It's from a company called Kirk Douglas, and they want to return the warehouse they built in Mr. Osian's name.”
“Kirk Douglas.......”
I don't recognize the name.
Just as I was wondering if anyone knew, Lorraine stepped forward and whispered to Osian.
“Wait a minute. That's you.”
“I don't understand what you’re saying.”
“It's some kind of paper company run by the mafia. I'm pretty sure I heard about it somewhere.”
Mafia? The name of the North Blinders immediately flashed through Osian's mind.
“Now that you mention it, I think I know what's going on here.”
“Well, the mafia has some ostensibly legitimate businesses, like renting out houses and doing construction work.”
“Hmm. It looks like they sent it without permission.”
Either it was Balud, or Isela's new boss.
Whatever the case, Ossian was not foolish enough to kick away the blessings that had just rolled in.
Worst of all.
-Ouch.
Lorraine's gaze was hard to resist as she squeezed Osian's forearm, urging him to take it.
*
“You can sign here.”
Osian scribbled his name on the paper the broker held out.
When the realtor walked away, the waiting laborer approached.
“I heard that this place is in need of remodeling. The inside of this place has been gutted, so there's nothing left to clean up. Is there anything you'd like to build?”
At the worker's words, Osian looked at the warehouse.
It was a large, spacious warehouse.
The faint odor of alcohol lingered in the air, suggesting that it had been used as a bootlegging warehouse before this.
Now that it had been cleaned out, it looked more desolate than clean.
It wasn't far from the Violet Fox Tavern, so it didn't take long to get there and back.
It was the perfect place for aspiring knights to train.
“How much money do you need? Were there any conditions?”
“Nothing like that. I was just told that the owner of this warehouse would pay for whatever you bought.”
In other words, they'd even pay for the interior decorating.
‘It was just a moment ago that Lorraine was upset about accepting a cheap commission, and now this is happening.’
It was rather suspicious that they would give me just what I needed but I couldn't refuse them.
Considering that it wasn't a debt that he was erasing, but a reward for a legitimate favor I'd done for him, it seemed appropriate.
“Asmer.”
“Yes, Heir!”
Asmer, who had been lazy in training due to the recent rains, replied immediately.
“From now on, the trainees will be trained here. You'll talk to that worker and get what you need yourself.”
“Really? Yes, heir!”
I was already realizing the limitations of training in an empty field.
It was hard to run and lift heavy things without any tools.
Wouldn't it be much more efficient to lift a barbell than a regular rock?
In that sense, Asmer carried on the will of the past, but his methods were adapted to the new age.
I'm watching Asmer chatting with a worker when someone elbows me in the side.
“Wow. You got a big warehouse for free. How cool is that?”
I turned to see Lorraine, who had followed me to watch, smiling broadly.
Her face was smiling, but her eyes were not.
“Yeah? Isn't that great? You're getting something I never got.”
“.......”
One minute she was furiously demanding to be paid, the next she was staring at me with a blank stare, and I didn't know what to do.
It's not like this hasn't happened before, and Osian has gotten used to it but a question popped into his head.
“Is there a reason you're so obsessed with money?”