‘There's more of us than I thought there would be.’
There were quite a few fixers like himself, as well as people who were doing other dirty jobs.
I counted about 40 people in the crowd.
Of course, not all of them were names to watch out for.
There were only a few that were worth paying attention to.
The ones who were confident in their skills were obvious.
Just look at that big guy right there.
A much bigger hulk than the Frank I'd just seen.
Muscles that looked like they could tear through his clothes and bulge out, showing just how hard he'd been training.
He wasn't carrying a weapon, nor was he wearing body armor.That meant he was more than capable of fighting with his bare body.
‘He must be a mutant.’
Osian turned his gaze away from the hulking mutant.
There was a peculiar person he had been eyeing for a while now.
He was a man in his fifties with his eyes closed, silently praying, and Osian felt a strange sensation that he couldn't quite put into words.
He was human, but he didn't seem human.
His body didn't feel alive.
It was as if there was something else flowing through his body instead of blood.
The man praying then opened his closed eyes and stared at Osian.
Inorganic eyes, devoid of emotion.
Their gazes collided in the air and the mercenaries watching the scene swallowed hard.
However, contrary to expectations, the two men looked away from each other without a word.
Osian's first impression of the Steel Follower was simple and clear.
'An interesting man.’
Little did he know, he was the most peculiar person in the room.
He had brought a sword as his weapon.
As for whether he had any other weapons, he didn’t.
There was nowhere to hide a pistol in his scantily clad body.
He had literally brought nothing but a sword on his bare back.
‘What is this guy? Is he crazy?’
‘What are you doing here, bringing a knife, not a gun?’
A long sword in a space where neither a regular gun nor a business card can be displayed.
Naturally, people's gazes were not kind to Osian, as he appeared to be playing a prank on the nerves of a big commission.
He didn't look old at all, and his ambition was as thin as a grain of sand.
Such a person would always be easy prey in a place like this.
Whenever a group of powerful people gathered together, the fight for dominance would begin.
The mercenaries stirred and rose to their feet.
All eyes were fixed on Osian but to their surprise, one of the mercenaries moved before them.
"Huh? Over there."
"Oh."
Recognizing him, the mercenaries all sat back down.
The red-haired gunslinger, Kid, was approaching Osian.
'Kid's moved.’
‘He's done.’
Kid is known for his marksmanship and his invisible speed but it wasn't just his marksmanship that earned him his reputation.
It was his personality.
His title in the industry wasn't called "Kid" for nothing, and his behavior was almost childlike.
A child's cruelty can sometimes make even adults cringe.
Kid's reputation was built on that childlike cruelty.
For him, there was no such thing as moderation in anything he did.
Kid approached Osian with a shuffling gait and called out to him.
"Hey, big brother. First time here?"
"Hmm?"
The gazes of the forty or so people in the room naturally turned to the two.
Neither Steele nor Jonathan Russell, who was showing off his rippling muscles, seemed to care about the reaction.
When Kid reached Osian, he chuckled at the knife at his waist.
"Man, you're a funny guy. Are you actually going to use that knife?"
"I wouldn't bring it if I wasn't going to use it."
"Ohhh. That's cool."
Despite his words, Kid's expression was full of mockery.
Osian glared at him.
"Did you know where this place was before you came?"
"I was asked to come here to kick out the gang that took over the power plant."
"Yes, yes, that's why we've gathered here. Fixers. Mercenaries. Even mutants. But you're not one of them."
"Like what?"
Kid's smile deepened at Osian's question.
It was the look he always wore when he found prey to play with.
"Well, you don't look like you have much of anything, do you? A knife is a knife in this day and age. Besides, it doesn't look like you've had any special modifications done to it. Is there a reason?"
"Because I can use it better than anyone else."
"Oh. That's a confident answer. You use it because you know how to use it. That's a great answer."
Kid chuckled and patted Osian on the back.
"But if you're going to come to a place like this, you should have dressed up a little better. You'd look like a clown with your face painted, colorful clothes, and a sword."
The mercenaries around him snickered and laughed.
Despite the jeers flying at him from all directions, Osian smiled as if he found it amusing.
"Are you trying to argue with me?"
"Oh. If that's what it sounded like, you're not exactly clueless."
"So what. You want to tell me to get the hell out of here?"
"Well, that's not a bad thing for either of us, is it?"
"What if I don't?"
Kid stroked his chin, hmmm, as Osian came out strong.
"No, I didn't think you'd say that, but if you don't like it, I can't help it. It was your choice to come here."
With that, Kid suddenly drew a pistol from his waistband.
In a flash, the muzzle was drawn and pointed at Osian's forehead.
The movement was so swift that even the mercenaries watching curiously missed it.
There was a strange tension in the air.
"What's with the sudden silence? Did this frighten you or something? Just kidding, just kidding. Just messing with you."
Osian stared at Kid wordlessly, and he chuckled.
"Whoa. What's so scary, huh? What, are you going to swing your knife at me?"
"What if I do?"
"Look at this. You've got a gun pointed at your forehead and you're trying to pull that kind of bravado?"
Osian smirked at that.
"A gun? What gun are you talking about?"
"What?"
Kid didn't understand what Osian was saying for a moment.
Neither did the others.
"Don't you see this?"
Kid was about to say something when he realized something in Osian's expression.
-Tudududud.
The pistol in Kid's hand suddenly shattered into pieces and fell to the floor.
"Huh?"
Kid, and everyone else watching, was stunned.
The broken section of the gun was smooth, as if it had been cut by something sharp.
Even more mysterious was Ossan.
The long sword that had been hanging from his left waistband just a moment ago was now clutched in his right hand.
"Did you......see him swing that sword just now?"
"......No."
Kid was so close, you'd think he'd be able to swing it out of his blind spot and not see it but even those watching the two from afar didn't see Osian swing the sword.
"My, my gun......."
Kid stared down at his severed gun in disbelief.
It was a custom-made pistol, engraved with the initials of his industry codename.
It had been his pride and joy, a weapon that had cost him twenty million a pop.
Now it lay in pieces on the floor.
"You son of a bitch!"
Kid tried to pull the one remaining Justice pistol from his waistband.
He knew his opponent was incredibly fast, but he'd been caught off guard just now.
He figured he could win if he got serious.
"Why don't you quit."
A voice interrupted, and Osian stopped swinging his sword.
Kid, about to shoot him at gunpoint, realized in hindsight that the blade was right in front of his forehead.
With a slight delay, his remaining one justice pistol snapped smoothly in half.
"Ah, ugh. Ah."
Kid's legs gave out and he slumped back.
His face turned pale as he realized he'd just almost died.
"Looks like we're done sorting out the order."
Osian sheathed his sword and turned to face the man who had spoken.
He was a man in his early forties, dressed in a formal long coat.
He had a half-white beard and a somewhat old-fashioned look.
"Quite a sight, my dear. You must be the rumored Osian?"
"Do you know me?"
“How could you not know that you destroyed a gang hideout with a single knife? Moreover, you recently captured a warlock who escaped without much trouble.”
Osian looked at the man in surprise.
Normally, most people would have dismissed the rumors of a sword-wielding man as bullshit, but not this man.
"Ah. Look at me. My name is David Rosier. I'm a fixer too."
The mercenaries who recognized him at his introduction whispered.
"Commander David is here."
"Holy shit. A veteran of the business."
Osian spoke up, his senses picking up on the mercenaries' small talk.
"Quite the celebrity."
"A shameful fame in the face of a sudden supernova."
David said, and clapped his hands together in two small claps.
Then the two hulking figures behind David shifted and approached.
Osian's eyes lit up as he took in their appearance.
‘Automatons, right?’
Dressed in a black suit and a hat on his head, it was obvious that it was an automaton.
Its face was made of dull steel with no features.
The automaton dragged the cowering Kid to his feet and threw him outside the abandoned factory.
No gunslinger without a gun would take this job, and rightly so.
Kid, already out of his mind, was unable to resist.
Osian watched the scene carefully.
He had heard that such a delicate task was difficult for an automaton, but not for David's automaton and it was easy to see why.
‘Thread?’
There was an invisible, very thin thread between David and the automaton.
The thread was energized, and it was clear that David was controlling it himself.
‘That's some fine-tuned control.’
Osian understood at once why David's name was prefixed with 'Commander'.
But it was the automaton that got on his nerves.
He'd seen an automaton similar in design to that one before.
Not too long ago.
"Let me ask you a question."
Osian's sword was already pointed at the automaton.
This time, it was faster than even David could react.
He hadn't expected a sword to be pointed at him here.
"The automaton. Where did you get it?"
"From......."
David glanced at Osian.
If he didn't answer, it looked like he would cut down the automaton right away.