Genius Wizard who sees Rainbows- Chapter 14

 

**#014. Street Kids (4)**

 

 

 

“After you defeat Kedrick and become the new leader of the group.”

“…”

Ray met Philip’s gaze.

A strong, unnamed desire flickered in the small boy’s eyes.

Lowering his head, Ray looked at the heart’s vessel.
It was easier than interpreting the signals on Philip’s face.

‘The black mana has diminished. He was afraid of me before. Is he mustering courage now?’

The amount of pale yellow mana had increased significantly, replacing the black.

A bright, sunlight-like pale yellow—the kind that only appeared when someone felt strong conviction and confidence.

“You don’t think I’d lose?”

“There’s always a chance, but the odds are overwhelmingly in your favor. At least from my perspective.”

“Why?”

The pale yellow mana expanded, its color intensifying until it completely drove away the black mana.

“Just my gut feeling.”

“Gut feeling?”

“As I mentioned, I enjoy observing people. By paying attention to their behavior and habits, I can get a sense of what kind of person they are. Not completely, but to some extent. For example—”

Philip leaned in and whispered.

“You tend to keep your gaze down when talking to someone, more toward their chest than their eyes. I’m not sure why. It made me wonder if you might have some trauma related to faces or eyes.”

He paused for breath.

“And when you turn a corner, you always step with your right foot first. I think it’s an unconscious habit to prepare for a potential ambush since you’re right-handed.”

“…”

It was a fascinating experience.

Ray had been judged by others before.

*“You’re scary. There’s something off about you.”*

*“Reckless idiot.”*

*“How about joining our organization? Once you’re an adult in a few years.”*

But those assessments were always shallow, limited to calling him intimidating or strange.

This was the first time someone had analyzed him so thoroughly and in such detail.

Especially the right-foot habit—it was something he hadn’t even realized about himself.

Ray leaned forward. He wanted to hear more. Perhaps this conversation could help him expand the range of emotions he could feel by understanding himself better. Currently, other than anger and sorrow, most emotions felt distant no matter how much he focused.

“Anyway, to get back to the point, I’ve got a good eye for people. I can gauge possibilities based on the information I observe. And you—”

“Anything else?”

“Huh?”

“Is there anything else you’ve noticed about my habits?”

“Well… I have a few more observations.”

Philip adjusted his glasses and began listing a few additional insights.

The patterns in Ray’s movements when navigating corners.

The way he maintained vigilance even while eating.

Small, seemingly inconsequential gestures that hinted at larger truths.

“Kedrick tends to let his emotions cloud his judgment during fights. But you’re different. You seem to calculate and adapt based on your opponent’s moves.”

Philip’s sharp analysis of why Ray was likely to win against Kedrick wasn’t something a professional psychologist might offer, but for a street kid’s assessment, it was remarkably insightful and precise.

“…So that’s what I think.”

Ray nodded.

Listening to Philip, he felt as though he was slowly uncovering parts of himself that had been hidden.

“I’ll accept your offer.”

“Huh? Wait, really? Without hearing more? Like the conditions or anything—”

“You can decide those. Just don’t try to cheat me.”

“Deal! Of course, I wouldn’t.”

Philip grinned widely.

“There’s one more condition.”

“What is it?”

“You can gather rumors and information from the streets, right? Using the kids here.”

—
—
—

**Two days later, midday.**

The sun blazed over the junkyard.

“They say the rumors about you being from Sector 50 are true. Looking at that car, I’d believe you crossed the wasteland.”

A boy’s voice echoed from beneath Ray’s vehicle. The boy was lying on a wheeled board, his legs sticking out.

“…”

Ray sat on a chair in front of the vehicle, keeping an eye on the maintenance. While he didn’t sense malice, the car was crucial to his journey, and he couldn’t afford to take chances.

The clink of metal and the sound of a turning wrench echoed from under the car.

Clatter. Clink. Squeak.

A moment of silence.

Then a sigh.

And the boy’s voice again.

“Philip seems to think highly of you. He rarely assigns someone like me to help.”

Despite Ray’s silence, the boy chattered away, seemingly used to talking to himself.

“Oh! Could you pass me that wrench? And a 6mm nut too.”

“…”

A toolbox lay open beside the car. Ray used telekinesis to float the tools over to the boy.

“Huh? They were right next to me? Did I bring them in earlier?”

The boy tilted his head in confusion before grabbing the tools and resuming his work.

Click! Clang!

Another moment of silence.

Another sigh and more words.

“Can I ask? Why did you leave Sector 50 and come here? You seem like you’re planning to settle, judging by the challenge for leadership.”

That wasn’t the case.

Ray had no intention of staying long in Sector 49. Once his exploration and goals were complete, he planned to move on to the next sector.

The vacant leader’s position would be filled by those left behind.

Clatter. Screech. Clunk!

Finally, the boy rolled out from under the car, sitting up. His face and clothes were smeared with grease, but he just gave himself a quick pat-down and seemed unfazed, clearly accustomed to the work.

“All done. The engine was slightly overheated, but otherwise fine. I swapped in a much better coolant, so it should run smoothly now.”

The boy shook an empty container and grinned.

“I snuck it out of my workplace. It’s the most expensive one.”

“Thanks for your work.”

“Work? Nah, it’s nothing. Philip asked me, and Philip’s basically our savior.”

The boy casually packed up his tools as he spoke.

“Without Philip, I wouldn’t even have a job. That’s why no one minds giving him a share of our earnings. He doesn’t take much anyway.”

Philip was popular among the street kids.

“…”

Ray found it intriguing.

In Sector 50, taxes were forcibly imposed on large groups. Resistance often led to beatings or worse.

Yet here, the kids voluntarily gave Philip more than his due.

As Ray pondered this, the boy spoke again.

“Oh, right! Almost forgot. Philip told me to give you this.”

The boy pulled a neatly folded note from his pocket.

“He said the details were too hard to explain verbally, so he wrote them down for you.”

Today, Philip was too busy with work to visit Ray in person.

“See you around, hunter. I’m looking forward to your fight with Kedrick.”

The boy slung his bag over his shoulder, waved behind him, and left the scrapyard.

Ray climbed into his car and unfolded the note that had been handed to him.

—

**”Street 2.”**

**”Wolf Bakery’s Wolfman.”**

**”42-year-old baker. Male.”**

**”………….”**

**”Street 8.”**

**”Kenny Store’s Andrew.”**

**”23-year-old clerk. Male.”**

**”………….”**

—

It was a profile list of residents in Sector 49.

There were seven people in total.

Ray recalled the conversation from two days ago at the hotel.

—
—

**“Magic? I want to know about it, sure. You’ve heard of it.”**

**“Huh… looking for a magician, are you?”**

**“Got it. I’ll gather up all the info I can about anyone suspicious.”**

**“It won’t take long. I’ve already collected some details about the locals before.”**

—

The note was the result of Ray’s request.

*Didn’t expect it to be this fast.*

Although he’d been told it wouldn’t take long, Ray didn’t expect to have results in just two days.

The swift progress was thanks to the young hotel workers who were spread out across the sector and had strong loyalty to Philip.

Underneath each profile was a detailed explanation of why the individual was suspected of being a magician.

—

**”Carried a heavy sack with one hand like it was nothing.”**

**”Chewed on a tough loaf of flour bread without so much as flinching.”**

—

“….”

Most of the reasons felt too ambiguous to be considered magic.

This was likely information Philip had meticulously filtered.

Still, Ray found the note’s contents satisfactory.

Among them, there were some accounts that seemed genuinely meaningful—accounts worth investigating.

It was worth meeting these residents in person to observe them.

This approach was far more efficient than wandering the streets aimlessly.

—

*Clink!*

Ray shut the car door and stepped into the street.

—

Ray watched the clerk moving busily at the grocery store and shook his head.

Andrew was off the list.

He didn’t seem like a magician at all.

*Most importantly, he doesn’t have a ring on his chest.*

That was a reference to the monocled magician who had a ring in his chest.

Though Ray himself had used magic without a ring, he assumed such cases were rare.

*Screech.*

A bold “X” was drawn over *Andrew* on the note.

One by one, the suspects were crossed off until only one remained.

—

**”Street 2.”**

**”Building 32-1. Empty storefront.”**

**”Unknown name. Male.”**

**”Estimated age: 30s to 40s.”**

**”Often seen carrying groceries between ground level and the basement. Likely resides in the basement.”**

—

Though the information was sparse, Ray felt this one was the most plausible.

—

**”When a pipe fell from above, a strong gust of wind diverted it, avoiding an accident. The man didn’t seem surprised at all.”**

—

The last candidate had the most compelling account.

Ray pocketed the note and quickened his pace.

—

He turned through shortcuts and crossed streets, making his way back into the alleys.

Although he hadn’t explored the entire sector yet, the paths he frequented had become familiar.

When he emerged onto another street, a familiar sign caught his eye.

—

**”Veronica Bookstore.”**

—

As usual, the store was closed.

*It’s probably shutting down for good,* Ray thought.

Books didn’t seem like a sellable commodity in Sector 49, making it highly likely the store was going out of business.

*I should ask Philip for information about the bookstore too.*

Just as that thought crossed his mind, a conversation from a nearby alley snagged his attention.

—

“Good. They’re still not open today.”

“Of course not. No one could hold out after getting pelted with stones every day.”

—

Ray didn’t stop walking but glanced toward the voices.

Three boys around his age stood near the alley entrance, staring in the bookstore’s direction.

His steps slowed until he came to a complete stop, just outside their line of sight.

He listened closely.

—

“Don’t you think we’ve done enough? They haven’t been able to open for weeks now.”

“Idiot. The deal was that we’d get paid double if we forced them to put the store up for sale. We can’t stop here.”

—

A brief silence followed before the conversation resumed.

—

“How, then? Throw more stones?”

“Yeah. This time, aim for the second floor. Not just the shop, but their home. Make it unbearable for them to stay.”

“It’s not like they can retaliate. All that’s in there is a sick old man and some kids.”

—

The meeting ended, and Ray heard the rustling of stones being gathered.

Soon, the three boys emerged from the alley, their hands full of rocks, striding confidently toward Veronica Bookstore.