Genius Wizard who sees Rainbows- Chapter 34

#034. The Undying Ember (4)

 

 

 

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When Zephyr and Rotson regained consciousness, the first emotion they felt was confusion.

“Mmph!”

“Ughhh!”

It wasn’t easy to feel anything else when their mouths were gagged, and their hands and feet were tightly bound with rope.

“Ughhhh!”

Their eyes darted around, assessing the surroundings.

The room was vast and bustling with small, frail-looking boys scurrying back and forth.

It was inside the hotel—one they recognized from a prior visit when they had struck a deal with Philip.

Gradually, their memories began to return.

They had charged forward, wielding pipes and wooden planks to crush the hunters’ heads. But then—

**‘The hunter swung his fist.’**

**‘I can’t remember what happened after that.’**

They had blacked out.

A chill ran through their bodies. Just recalling the moment seemed to bring back the unbearable pain they had felt—a pain they hoped never to experience again.

The kind of agony that left you gasping for breath, teetering on the brink of death.

But any relief from not seeing the hunter in front of them was fleeting.

Their thoughts quickly shifted to something else.

“Mmph!”

“Mm-mm! Mmmph!”

Gags and ropes.

This felt like being prisoners of war.

Could it be that they had lost?

They had nearly twice the numbers. Even if the hunter was strong…

Noticing they were the only prisoners in the hotel heightened their unease.

**‘Could it be that our men abandoned us and fled…?’**

“You look like you’re wondering if your men deserted you.”

A voice came from above.

Zephyr and Rotson snapped their heads up to see Philip holding a notebook, looking down at them.

“Mmmph!”

“Mm! Mmmph! Mmmph!”

Their struggles intensified.

Translated, their muffled grunts roughly meant:

*“You arrogant punk. Untie us right now, or I’ll kill you!”*

*“Look away, you little brat! How dare you, who never even made eye contact with us before, look down on us like this?”*

Philip flinched momentarily but, noticing that the bindings were secure, smirked mockingly.

“Yes, they abandoned you. Once the fight turned against them, they ran without looking back.”

The truth was, Zephyr and Rotson’s groups couldn’t retrieve their leaders because of Ray.

When retreating, Ray had been standing right beside the unconscious leaders.

**‘No need to tell them that, though.’**

Not that it mattered much. The subordinates’ loyalty to their leaders was never particularly strong to begin with—relationships built purely on power dynamics, nothing more.

From the followers’ perspective, there was no reason to risk their lives to save their bosses.

“Mmmph!”

“Mm-mmph! Mmmph!”

Zephyr and Rotson let out muffled protests, but it didn’t change the situation.

Philip felt a strange exhilaration.

To think that Zephyr and Rotson—who had always held the upper hand in their business dealings—were now helpless before him.

**‘Ray was right. I’d see the return on my investment today.’**

Philip pressed a finger to his lips, savoring the moment.

Thrilling. New. Exhilarating.

It already felt as though he’d received all the rewards for his investment. And yet, the profits he would gain from sticking with Ray hadn’t even truly begun.

**‘I can’t afford to lose this opportunity.’**

Reverence and excitement swelled in his chest.

From now on, he resolved to give his utmost to stay in Ray’s good graces.

With that determination, Philip looked down at the two leaders and spoke in a deliberately stern voice.

“Ray will decide what to do with you. So wait patiently until he wakes up.”

At the mention of Ray, both leaders immediately stopped their struggles and protests.

It was, as expected, highly effective.

—
—
—

The boy lifted his head and gazed at the scene before him.

An expansive plain stretched out, dotted with gently sloping hills.

The entire landscape was in black and white, yet the boy felt no sense of discord.

…

A hazy, languid sensation.

Like being submerged in warm, deep water.

**Am I dreaming?**

**I’m not the type to dream, though.**

The boy considered himself someone who didn’t dream.

Unlike the other children in the underpass, who chattered each morning about their lingering dreams, the boy never had such experiences.

When he opened his eyes, his mind would simply be filled with the day’s tasks.

…

The boy began walking slowly.

Whether this was a dream or reality didn’t matter.

There was an inexplicable pull toward the hill at the center of the plain.

Each step he took on the grass made no sound.

No footsteps, no breathing, no rustling clothes.

It was as if sound couldn’t exist in this vacuum-like world.

As he moved closer, the hill transformed into a heap of scrap metal—something profoundly familiar to him.

Reaching the center of the plain, he looked up at the now metallic hill.

At its peak floated a small sphere of light, pulsating as if beckoning him.

…

The boy felt his heart pound.

He instinctively knew.

Though the sphere appeared white in this monochrome world, it was undoubtedly white in its essence as well.

He began climbing the scrap heap with practiced movements.

Despite its bizarre shapes, he ascended without a single misstep.

Finally, he reached the top.

The debris beneath his feet tumbled down with a clatter.

Though the heap had inexplicably grown to towering heights, the boy no longer paid it any mind.

Instead, he reached out toward the sphere of light.

The moment his fingers brushed against it—

*Crack!*

The sphere transformed into an egg, splitting in two as the sound of the world returned.

From within the egg emerged light.

Hundreds of colorful beams burst forth, racing across the landscape like streaks of lightning.

*Flash!*

As the light touched the surroundings, color returned to the monochrome world.

And with that final image, the boy woke from his dream.

—
—
—

Ray opened his eyes.

Slowly, he sat up in bed.

“…”

He was in Philip’s office.

The children had likely carried him there after he collapsed from exhaustion.

**‘I feel like I had a dream.’**

He furrowed his brow, trying to recall it.

The memory was tantalizingly close but slipped through his grasp.

After a moment of thought, he dismissed it as his imagination. He wasn’t the type to dream.

But that was only because he lacked knowledge about dreams.

Every human dreams each night—whether they remember or not.

Unaware of this fact, Ray remained convinced otherwise.

**‘How long was I out?’**

He remembered raising his fist in triumph after the war but nothing after that.

He hadn’t tied up all the loose ends before losing consciousness.

Could something have happened in his absence that Philip and the others couldn’t handle?

Though the silence outside suggested otherwise, Ray couldn’t shake the thought.

He rose from his bed and headed toward the door.

*Creak.*

The guards stationed outside immediately bowed deeply.

“Oh! Sir Ray! Did you rest well?”

“We’ve ensured no one disturbed you!”

These were the same guards he had seen on his first visit to the hotel.

Back then, their attitudes were respectful, but now they seemed downright reverent.

And those wide, eager eyes and exaggerated honorifics—what on earth was this about?

“Where’s Philip?”

“I’ll fetch him right away!”

One guard darted off into the bustling center of the hotel.

The remaining one looked at Ray with anticipation.

“Are you hungry, sir? We can prepare a meal immediately if you’d like!”

His gaze practically begged Ray to say yes.

“…”

Ray glanced at the guard’s emotions.

A deep purple hue tinged with vivid crimson—admiration, reverence, and gratitude.

Feelings rarely encountered in the slums.

**‘Since arriving in Sector 49, I’ve encountered a much wider range of emotions than in Sector 50.’**

It made sense.

His life in Sector 49 had been far more turbulent. The series of harrowing events stirred up waves of emotions in those around him, leaving their impact unmistakable.

His stomach growled audibly.

Though hungry, he felt assessing the situation took precedence.

“I’m fine. I’ll eat later. What’s today’s date and time?”

“It’s July 11th, 6:23 PM!”

Yesterday had been the 10th.

The war had broken out in the evening. It seemed he had been asleep for nearly an entire day.

That explained why his body and mind felt completely refreshed.

Rather than waiting for Philip to arrive, Ray decided to inspect the hotel himself.

Philip would undoubtedly find him wherever he went.

Ray walked briskly toward the hotel’s center.

Strings of light bulbs cast a warm orange glow over the bustling children moving between beds, tables, and various furnishings.

“Is it Kobson and Nepper heading to work on Street 6 tomorrow?”

“Yeah. It’s great, especially since there were fewer jobs recently.”

Snatches of conversation drifted through the air.

Street 6 had been Kedrick’s territory, and it appeared that Philip had already handled job allocations and assignments there.

Additionally, several bunk beds had been added to one corner of the hotel. Members of Kedrick’s gang rested on them or loitered cautiously in nearby spaces.

*‘I remember telling them they could stay at the hotel for a while, but I didn’t expect them to have beds ready so quickly.’*

Philip’s efficiency and meticulousness were impressive to the point of disbelief.

The gang, however, seemed far from comfortable. Likely because this was the living space of the very children they had previously tormented.

“Do I move this? Is there anything else I can help with?”

“You can boss us around. We’re strong, after all. Oh, not bragging or anything!”

Some gang members were actively approaching the children, offering help. Ray noticed a faint, swirling grayish-blue mana emanating from their emotions.

Without realizing it, Ray murmured the name of that emotion.

*Guilt.*

At first, the children were startled by the gang’s attempts to help, but they soon detected sincerity in their actions and began cautiously accepting assistance.

“Uh… me too…”

“I’ll help too. I’ve got nothing else to do right now…”

Seeing their comrades’ success, other gang members hesitantly followed suit.

“Thanks for helping.”

“Oh, good. I was wondering how to move this.”

To Ray, the sight was remarkable.

The mutual guilt and wariness between the two groups resembled overlapping currents, gradually dissolving and neutralizing each other, albeit slowly but steadily.

“Huh?”

Someone suddenly noticed Ray and shouted.

“It’s the Hunter!”

“The Hunter’s awake!”

All nearby activity stopped, and heads turned toward Ray.

“It’s true! He’s awake!”

“Master Ray! Are you feeling okay?”

In an instant, children swarmed around Ray, forming a circle as they clamored to catch a glimpse of him. Though the crowd jostled for a better view, they were careful not to push Ray.

“Hunter! You’re the best!”

“The way you fought was amazing! We won thanks to you!”

Even Kedrick’s gang members joined the commotion, contributing to the human barrier surrounding Ray.

“Ray! You’re our leader now!”

“Yeah! You’re our leader!”

The gang had already accepted Ray as their leader.

─”Ray! Ray!”

─”Ray! Ray! Ray!”

Ray’s name echoed through the hotel like a chant.

Despite their differences in affiliation, size, and background, everyone at that moment shared a single, powerful emotion—admiration and longing.

“Master Ray! If you need anything, just say the word! We’ll steal it for you!”

“Can I give the Hunter some chocolate?”

“So, about what happened with Zephyr and Rotson yesterday…”

“What’s your shoe size, by the way?”

“And… um, your underwear size?”

Surrounded by the rare glow of various emotions, Ray felt slightly dizzy.

*How do I even respond to this?*

It was getting a little loud.

*Maybe if I throw them some food, they’ll disperse toward it?*

As Ray considered the idea, a thunderous roar interrupted his thoughts.

“Uaaaahhh──!!”

A loud shout rapidly drew closer, aimed directly in Ray’s direction.