Genius Wizard who sees Rainbows- Chapter 199

**#199. Maintenance (1)**

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“How about trying to draw?”

Grine’s hand, as she softly mouthed the words, held a packet of jerky.

“Guess it suits your taste.”

“Not really. I’m just eating it because I’m bored.”

Given the speed at which the bus’s jerky supply was depleting, that didn’t seem to be the case at all.

Ray wanted to point that out, but chose to exercise patience and returned to the original topic.

“You want me to try drawing?”

“Yes. You said when you picture an image, the elements move according to it, right?”

“That’s right.”

“But you also said that you can only recall images from past fights, and you can’t bring up new ones.”

Ray nodded.

Grine folded the empty jerky packet into a small slip and tucked it into her pocket, then rummaged through her bag and pulled something out.

It was a large sketchpad bound with a spring and a pencil.

“I have high expectations for you, Ray. You freely manipulated the green jewel’s mana, and this time, you used magic in a way we’ve never seen before. That’s why… When you said you’d grow the World Tree in such a short time, it didn’t sound completely far-fetched.”

*Flip—flip—*

As the pages turned, their contents were revealed.

At first glance, the finely detailed works looked like photographs. But upon closer inspection, it was clear they were drawings made with paint and pastels.

Green trees growing densely, back-to-back.

Winding streams and oddly shaped small animals.

…Was that a forest?

Until now, Ray had only seen scribbles on back-alley walls—this was the first time he’d seen proper artwork.

“Try drawing. Transfer everything your eyes see onto paper, and use that to cement the image in your mind.”

*Scratch, scratch.*

The sound of the black lead gliding across the white space tickled the ear.

Grine’s calm gaze was fixed solely on the paper, as if the image she was drawing was perfectly etched in her memory.

Inside the rattling bus.

Time passed.

Grine finished her drawing and flipped it around to show Ray and Veronica.

“Wow…!”

Veronica let out a gasp.

The once-blank paper now held a detailed depiction of the bus interior.

A boy and girl sitting side by side.

Seats, shelves, large windows.

Tiny rooms lining the hallway.

Even the vast wilderness seen through the windows, large and small.

It was like a perfectly scaled-down copy of the scene before them.

As Ray quietly marveled, Grine’s voice reached his ear.

“It starts with imitation. But if you keep at it, and engrave the images of the world’s landscapes and objects into your heart, and learn to use them as material… one day, you’ll be able to draw something entirely new—something uniquely yours.”

Grine took a breath and said,

“We call that creation.”

—

*
*
*

After the group left, Philip was busy.

「I want you to manage the Amon Family’s business operations.」

Managing a legitimate business.

It had been his dream ever since they began building a hotel in Sector 49.

But to manage not just one, but *all* the businesses? A shiver of exhilaration ran down his spine.

“Knew I was right about you,” he muttered to himself.

Philip’s world was built on investments.

He had always been sharp with numbers, calculating gains and losses from any given action with precision.

Betting everything on Ray during the wager with Kedrick, leaving behind everything he’d built in Sector 49—all of it had been a kind of investment.

‘…And I’d thought the return on that investment was already more than enough, in the form of experiences I’d never have gotten if I’d stayed put.’

Apparently, not.

Today, he’d received a gift beyond anything he’d imagined.

Of course, he no longer saw Ray as a mere investment, but something more than a friend. Still, he couldn’t deny how overwhelmed he felt.

Fueled by excitement, Philip sat at his desk and began rapidly organizing a to-do list.

How much time had passed?

*Knock knock.*

Opening the door, he found a group of men in black suits.

Startled by their menacing appearance, Philip instinctively reached for the gun at his side.

The man at the front spoke.

“Good day. I’m Bassel of the Amon Family. I came at Ray’s instruction. I was told the person who will be issuing commands to our organization is here. Would that be you, Mr. Philip?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“It’s an honor to meet you. If you have any instructions, please don’t hesitate to give them.”

The man bowed, and the others followed suit.

Despite their intimidating looks, their demeanor was unusually respectful and passive.

‘Bassel… the one Ray mentioned. Amon’s successor, the current head of the organization.’

Ray had filled Bassel and his men with fear to their limits.

For at least the next three or four months, they wouldn’t dare cause trouble.

Though Philip felt slightly less tense, he still didn’t remove his hand from his gun as he invited Bassel into the room.

“So all business management rights are being transferred to me, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

They sat at the table and began discussing matters.

No Ray, no Veronica—no one to back him up this time.

His mouth was dry, heart pounding, but he didn’t let it show.

“Prepare and submit a list of all businesses, along with their ledgers from the past year. Same for the member list and any recent changes. How soon can you have that ready?”

“If it’s everything from the past year… it’ll take about five days.”

“That’s too long. Make it three.”

He was firm—confident.

As if he’d always been in a position to dictate terms.

The conversation stretched on, and eventually Bassel stood and bowed respectfully.

“Then, we’ll make sure your requests are handled as swiftly as possible. We’ve prepared a vehicle downstairs to show you around our territory. Please come down at your convenience.”

*Screech—click.*

Bassel and his men exited the room and disappeared down the hallway.

Only after their footsteps had completely faded did Philip release the tension from his body, sliding back into his chair.

He let out a dry laugh.

“Ray did this kind of thing every day?”

—

 

The next morning.

After touring the northern sector with Bassel the previous day, Philip now sat in the back seat of a luxury sedan heading toward the eastern outskirts.

Scenery flitted by outside the window.

‘That’s Rollin Field—furniture store, 12 staff. That’s the Montana Restaurant—monthly sales of 11 million shillings, protection fee percentage is…’

The numbers he’d read in documents the night before were racing through his mind.

Some shops were directly run by the Amon Family, others by local residents.

The one thing they all had in common? Everyone paid a protection fee.

‘Ray said to reduce the protection fees as much as possible…’

Easier said than done.

The Amon Family had hundreds of members to support; they had to source funds from somewhere.

But cutting the number of members was also risky.

The moment their manpower dropped, rival groups from the southern and western sectors would bare their fangs.

Philip turned to the passenger seat.

“Bassel, compared to other major groups in the sector, the Amon Family’s numbers are small, right?”

“Yes. Groups like the Thorns Cactus in the west or the Camol Gang in the south have nearly twice our numbers.”

“The reason the balance of power hasn’t tipped… is it thanks to Binjin?”

“Yes. Mages can overwhelm hundreds of regular people depending on their skill. The other groups also have mages, but none of them compare to Binjin. That’s why they’ve never dared encroach on our territory.”

Philip nodded.

It was clear why the eastern Amon Family had been able to expand their territory northward, driving out the Nostra Clan, without interference from the south or west.

Because they had Binjin—a high-level mage.

And that meant—

‘If we’re going to maintain the group without increasing numbers, Ray will have to fill that role to some degree.’

Unfortunately, Ray was already too busy chasing rainbows.

That was probably why he’d told Binjin’s students:

「Those who leave will get a payout based on how long they stayed at the mansion. Those who remain will get to learn magic from me.」

They’d train new fighters to replace Binjin.

“Mr. Philip, we’ve arrived.”

Snapping back to reality at the voice, Philip realized the sedan had stopped in front of the mansion.

*Screech, click!*

He stepped out and closed the door.

Through the open gates of the mansion, trucks carrying building materials and workers bustled back and forth.

“I’ll escort you inside.”

“No, I’ll go alone from here.”

“Understood. We’ll wait here.”

Philip had come to meet the kids at the mansion.

He figured showing up with a group of thugs whose faces screamed “trouble” might spook them.

He passed through the gate and began walking.

*Rrrrrrrrr—*

The loud sounds of construction rang in the air.

Turning his head, he saw a building’s framework rising.

‘So that’s the mansion Ray mentioned.’

Since Sector 37 would be their base for a while, the place would serve as their hideout.

It was enormous—far beyond anything he could’ve imagined during their days wandering the streets.

His chest swelled with pride.

But just then, sensing danger, Philip turned and reached for his *Macaroni-F Series No. 3*.

“The muzzle of my gun shines with judgment, and the trigger delivers—Ack! Pbbbt!”

Or rather, he *would have* aimed—had a robotic dog not tackled him to the ground.

Kelley sniffed him all over, then began happily licking his face.

“What the—ugh! Stop! Get off! What are you doing?! Pbbbt!”

Kelley had caught Ray’s scent on Philip’s clothes, but Philip had no way of knowing that.

While he struggled helplessly under the dog’s assault—

A shadow fell over him.

“Who are you? You don’t look like one of the construction assistants.”

Through his blurry vision, he saw a blue-haired girl clutching a book.

His gun, which had fallen to the ground, floated into the air and landed in her hand.

“And you’re carrying a dangerous weapon.”

“J-just! Get this thing off me—!”

Watching him silently, the girl picked up a stick and threw it.

“Woof! Woof woof—!”

Kelley thundered off after it.

Covered in slobber and humiliated, Philip stood—only to find several floating ice spears aimed right at him.

He spoke as calmly as possible.

“You’re Ayla, right? Ray told me a lot about you.”

At the mention of Ray, the girl’s expression, previously unreadable, began to change.

A mix of relief—and wariness.

“He told you a lot? And who exactly are you?”

“I’m Philip. Ray’s friend. He asked me to stop by the mansion while he’s away and help you guys out a bit.”

“I did hear he had another friend besides Veronica. But he never said anything about someone coming to the mansion.”

“Maybe he forgot to mention it. He left in a bit of a hurry.”

A brief silence passed between them.

She clearly still wasn’t sure if he was really Ray’s friend.

‘Can’t blame her. I *was* carrying a gun—even if it wasn’t loaded.’

Just as Philip was trying to figure out how to ease her suspicions—

“If you’re really Ray’s friend,” Ayla said.

“If I am?”

“Then you should be able to answer this without any trouble. You’re walking down a dark alley and see a woman struggling with a mugger. Does Ray chase off the mugger and save the woman? Or does he pretend not to see and walk past?”

Philip thought for a moment before answering.

“Correct answer: He assumes it’s a two-person mugging scam and hurls a fireball at *both* of them.”

“That’s right. You *are* Ray’s friend.”

Philip and Ayla shook hands.

 

 

 

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