The moment I saw them, I couldn't help but think.
They were dressed in immaculately pressed suits, and their hats were pressed down on their heads.
There were about thirty of them.
All of them were quite large, and it was clear that they were using their bodies.
But it was the man in the center of the group that caught my eye.
They all wore dark navy blue suits and flat caps, commonly referred to as buns, except for one.
He wore a form-fitting white suit and a white bowler hat on his head.
He even wore rimless glasses on his face.
At first glance, I noticed that the hair at the base of his neck was dark gray.
Unlike everyone else's rugged appearance, the man in the white suit had fine lines and a clean appearance.He looked like a secretary or a bookkeeper, whereas the others were fighters.
‘He's definitely up to something.’
He was the most ridiculous-looking person, but he was definitely not to be underestimated.
I naturally looked at other people.
As is typical of Tirna, a city of all kinds of humans, the people waiting had strong personalities.
What caught my eye in a different way was a group that looked like a biker gang.
There were about ten of them.
Their clothes were leather and funky, with scratches all over their hair and dyed in deep pinks, greens, and blues.
It's easy to tell what kind of group they are just by looking at their studded gloves and boots.
It wasn't a style you'd see in the city, and they were clearly from the scrapyards of the late 40s. districts
'And the ones standing there, they're pretty small.’
Three…Pretty small to call a group, but still, given their location, they weren't overpowered by the others because they're wizards.
They were dressed in comfortable cotton pants, a white shirt, and a modest vest.
On top of that, they wore robes that were adapted from modern dress to identify them as wizards.
In the game, wizards often wore baggy robes that would flap in the wind, but not so much in the present day.
‘They don't even wear hats anymore.’
It was one of the reasons I didn't raise wizards.
The clothes they wore were basically unflattering. It's hard to look good.
I picked a knight because I thought, "If you're going to have a knight, you might as well have a nice suit of armor.”
But the wizards of the current era don't seem to have that. On the contrary, I thought they were cool to look at.
'If I knew this would happen, I would have raised a wizard.'
I didn't stop exploring my surroundings even as I had that silly thought.
I saw people in old dry wetsuits, some with prosthetic limbs, and others carrying heavy weapons.
None of them were ordinary and all of them had come out to fulfill the witch's request.
'Am I going to have to compete with these people?'
I'm probably the youngest person in the room.
That's because I haven't been a fixer for that long.
I've had a few successful cases, but in the grand scheme of things, I'm just a drop in the bucket in the city of Tirna.
So I'm always up for a challenge.
A puff of white steam roared out of the stationary train.
At the signal that it was about to depart, people waiting at the station began to board the train.
Some people were loading something into the baggage car at the end of the train.
I checked the ticket Ronan had gotten me. It said my seat was in second class.
‘Second class.’
In a world of capital, even on trains like this, there were classes.
First class, second class, third class, and baggage car.
The first class car was an entire carriage of the train.
It occupied the front of the train and was decorated like a hotel, so naturally, only the wealthy could afford it.
The second carriage is what we would call a regular seat.
It's not that good, though, and you can only sit in it.
Still, it's better than third class.
There's no room to sit down in third class. It's literally all standing room only.
And most people in this city are crammed into the third class car when they take the train.
The entire carriage is crammed with people, with no room to stand, and you endure the rattling train until you arrive.
In a world where sleeping on a clothesline is called lodging, it's a fitting metaphor.
‘In that sense, I'm lucky to have a seat.’
This is where Ronan's meticulousness and thoroughness comes into play.
As I entered the train carriage, it was filled with a group of people.
I thought, 'Oh no. Is that the mafia?’
I don't know if they're real mafia or not. I just labeled them because they looked like it.
Apparently, the seats I was going to take were all occupied by these mafiosi.
They spotted me, too, and our eyes met.
I wonder if they didn't like the fact that there was an unexpected person in the seat they thought they were going to charter.
I didn't care, so I casually walked down the aisle to find a seat.
Bam.
I bumped shoulders with someone.
Even if the aisle was narrow, I could see that the other person bumped into me on purpose.
And, of course, the obvious reaction came.
"What are you, an asshole? If you hit someone's shoulder, you owe them an apology."
His grim face contorted even more grimly, like he was looking at a crumpled up piece of paper.
I didn't argue back.
He lifted his hand and extended it toward me.
It looked like he was going to grab me by the throat, and I didn't move, even though his hand was so close.
But the moment I did, I vowed that this would be the first time I would show my sword here.
"What are you doing?"
A voice broke my reverie.
It was a small, calm voice, but it was clearly audible to everyone in the train car.
The member of the organization who was reaching out to me became contemplative and stiffened.
I looked at the voice's owner with impassive eyes.
It was him, the man in a white suit and glasses.
"I asked you what are you doing, didn’t I?"
"Well, that's because this person bumped into me and didn't apologize......sorry!"
"No shouting on the train."
These were all very moral and common sense statements, but in this situation, they also sounded pretty far-fetched.
But the gang member understood and immediately backed off.
The other members of the gang, who had been expecting a fight, sat back in their seats, tense as ever.
I realized how strict he usually was with his gang members.
I looked at the man who stepped in front of me and he looked at me.
We were both silent, each of us probing the other.
But the silence didn't last long. It was the man with the ash-black hair that spoke first.
"I apologize, sir. My staff was rude."
It was a polite tone of apology so I responded in kind.
"It was just a small thing."
"I see."
The other person didn't seem to notice my tone.
That's to be expected.
He didn't look favorably on me to begin with.
"I didn't introduce myself. My name is Balud."
"Osian."
"I apologize again for the rudeness of my staff."
With that, Balud stormed out of the room.
His tone and demeanor were polite, but his eyes were quite vicious.
It's a good thing we didn't get into a fight.
The last thing I want is to start a fight before I've even gotten the job.
With that thought, I sat back down. The stares around me still stung, but I shrugged them off.
As luck would have it, my seat was a window seat, and the scenery outside the window began to flow behind me, making me afraid to sit down.
The train departed.
*
"I heard you sent our youngest?"
Lorraine turned to Ronan as soon as we entered the tavern.
Her eyes questioned Ronan as to why he hadn't stopped Osian.
"Well, well. You're quick with the news."
"Never mind. Are you out of your mind? You send him to something that involves the Kingdom of Petra?"
"Is there a problem?"
"Ha. Problem? Of course there is. Osian's new to the business. He’s strong and he’ll be treated well wherever he goes, but you know what, brute force isn't everything in this business."
Lorraine slammed her palm on the table.
"Yeah, and look at the people who got involved in this. The School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is one thing, but the North Blinders, one of the Crime Firms, they're involved, those nasty mobsters."
"I know."
"You know?"
Lorraine's eyes widened in surprise.
Ronan twirled the ballpoint pen in his hand lightly in his fingers as he organized his papers.
"That's not all. There are also the enhanced humans from the Bleeding Edge, and the runaways from the Scrapheap."
"You send our youngest to a place like that?"
“Is this something that someone who didn’t even treat him like the youngest in front of me would say?”
Ronan's point made Lorraine speechless.
Ronan gave a small laugh at that. Despite her behavior, Lorraine was worried about Osian.
He may be stronger than her, may have an air of intimidation, but he's her coworker in the same office.
"I had a calculation that it would be possible, but more than that, Mr. Osian himself said he would go, and that's his will. It's not something that I can do anything about."
"Your role is to hold the reins in case."
"Exactly. If it's dangerous, I grab it. The only reason I didn't grab it is because I didn't think it was necessary."
"You didn't want that witch?"
Ronan shrugged lightly at Lorraine's pointed question.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't covet her. She kept quiet and stayed on the outside until now, and then she asked for asylum. There must have been something going on, but more important than that is Mr. Osian."
"You knew about this, and you sent him."
"Mr. Osian is growing at an unbelievable rate, one that even I cannot predict, and that makes him dangerous."
Ronan spoke in a more subdued tone.
"Success is good, who wouldn't want that, but sometimes the pain of failure is necessary."
"That's not what a normal broker would say."
The average broker wants to see the fixer succeed, not fail.
After all, the success of the client is the success of the broker but Ronan was more worried about Osian's future.
‘You can only be successful for so long before your brakes fail.’
If you fall at that moment, you'll never get back up so it is better to experience failure now than later.
Lorraine, realizing Ronan's intentions, stuck her tongue out.
"You know, you're quite the character."
"You really hurt my feelings when you say that."
"You're being presumptuous, on a subject you don't even think about."
Ronan's shoulders dropped sullenly, as if he were hurt.
Of course, to Lorraine, it was just an exaggerated sternness.
Ronan found it sad.
He had the best of intentions, but why couldn't people understand his heart?
Even when he told them the truth, they didn't believe him and were wary of him.
‘It's a harsh world.’
*
Out of Tirna, the train sped along the railroad tracks.
Outside the city, vast fields of wheat stretched out before us.
Harvesting machines clattered through the golden fields.
It was a steam-powered, quadrupedal chariot with a scythe on the front that automatically rotated to harvest the wheat.
I thought it was a fascinating sight, but I kept still because I still had time to get to my destination.
At that moment, I felt a piercing sensation across my brain and looked up.
‘What is that?’
I thought to myself.
Boom!
The collision shook the tracks, accompanied by a huge explosion.