**Chapter 21**
—
Dignity practically flowed from the man’s attire.
A long, well-kept mustache.
A scar running across his entire right eye.
Even at a glance, he was clearly not someone who had lived an ordinary life—he looked exactly like the man in Arthur’s memory.
*The underworld’s big-shot broker, Willet.*
Realizing once again that he had truly returned to Arcane, Arthur heard Willet speak.
“If you’re here to get a suit tailored, take off the mask. This isn’t a masquerade ball.”
Arthur shook his head.
“Sorry, but I don’t think I can take it off. I’m not here to get a suit.”
“You came to a tailor shop and you’re not here for a suit? Then what for?”
“I came to get work introduced to me.”
Willet’s gaze narrowed.
“Work? Sorry, but I’m not hiring clerks. Try somewhere else.”
With that brusque dismissal, Willet looked away.
His cold and cutting attitude made Arthur scratch his head.
*Come to think of it, Willet was always extremely cautious, wasn’t he?*
A tailor by day.
An underworld broker by night.
Living two lives, he was known for being extraordinarily guarded and for never growing attached to anyone.
*But once he decided someone was his own, there was no one more reliable.*
Arthur pondered.
How could he get Willett to lower his guard?
As he stroked his chin, his eyes lit up.
*In times like this… better to go straight at it.*
Murmuring to himself, Arthur drew the meteoric iron sword hanging at his waist.
The sharp ring of metal made Willet look up, just as Arthur awakened the blood of Bayern.
“…A bloodline ability?” Willet muttered.
Arthur raised his hand, the back covered in reptilian scales.
“I’ve also contracted with spirits, in addition to this.”
“Spirits? You’re a bloodline ability user and you can handle spirits too?”
“Yes. Uh… Undine, Gnome—mind showing him for a moment?”
At Arthur’s request, the two spirits flitted over, perching on Willet’s nose bridge and shoulder.
At once, a spray of water rose in the air, and Willet’s chair began to tremble faintly.
Eyes narrowing at the strange phenomenon, Willet muttered, “…They really are spirits. To cause this without even chanting a spell…”
“Yes. And… I’m decent with a sword, too. Wouldn’t you say that’s a pretty usable skill set?”
Willet’s gaze lowered.
Bloodline abilities, spirits, and swordsmanship—rare enough individually, even rarer combined.
But talent alone wasn’t enough to entrust with work.
Trust and reliability—that was the foundation of his dealings, and that hadn’t changed.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why someone with such skills had come to him.
After some thought, Willet decided to probe further.
“With skills like that, why are you looking for work through me?”
Arthur replied, “Because you’re the only broker I know, Willet-sir.”
“…And I don’t know you.”
Arthur smiled.
“Well… there’s that, and you also saved my life once.”
“…I saved you?”
“Yes. You took me in when I was dying on the streets. Let’s see… would ‘Athena Orphanage’ ring a bell?”
Willet’s eyes widened.
Athena Orphanage—his own, secret establishment.
*He knows about that? But… if he’s from there, there’s no way I wouldn’t recognize his voice.*
Athena Orphanage was a kind of sanctuary for abandoned children in this bleak city. Only the head knew Willet ran it.
His eyes narrowed again.
*…Could he have been sent by another office?*
Even if the story felt clumsy, it was still cause for caution.
Keeping his feelings hidden, Willet asked,
“If I refuse to give you work, what will you do?”
“Uh… probably come here every day to pester you?”
Willet blinked. That was… absurd.
“You serious?”
“Dead serious.”
A faint laugh escaped Willet.
It had been a long time since he’d had such an oddly offbeat conversation.
Just then, from behind Willet, a masked swordsman appeared.
“Shall I take care of him, sir?”
“…No. Let’s watch for now.”
The swordsman melted back into the shadows.
Willet rubbed the deep line between his brows.
“Sorry, but I don’t hire unknown rookies. I don’t take nameless faces.”
“That’s… inconvenient.”
“But I *am* curious how you know about Athena Orphanage.”
Arthur’s eyes gleamed.
Willet made an offer.
“I’ll give you a job as a test. If you complete it, I’ll hire you officially. Fail, and you tell me how you know about Athena Orphanage. How’s that? Sounds fair to me.”
—
—
A hundred years ago, a great war swept the continent.
The devastation was so severe that even a decade after it ended, the Empire and every other nation suffered extreme poverty.
To break that poverty, the Empire and the Allied Kingdoms built a single city—Project Arcane.
A massive economic city meant to set the frozen time of the continent in motion again.
After the war, countless now-useless mercenaries flowed into it.
Work for mercenaries was abundant.
As a true union city, Arcane had its power divided among many factions that kept each other in check.
That meant there was always a need for strength, and mercenaries filled that gap.
Now, a century later, “mercenary” was an established profession—one with the most opportunities for success.
For Arthur, it was perfect for his goal.
*I came to Arcane to gather bloodlines. And the best place for that is where money and power gather.*
Where power was needed, money gathered; where money gathered, talented people came—and in the backstreets, those with the bloodlines he sought were most concentrated.
*Just being in Arcane won’t get me face-to-face with bloodline users… so I need to go where they gather.*
And a capable broker like Willet could create plenty of such chances.
With that thought settled, Arthur headed the next day to D-11, the slum known as the “Abandoned Streets,” to pass Willet’s test.
Arcane was divided into four main districts. D District was home to the city’s lowest class.
Beggars, crumbling roads, collapsing buildings, illegal shops—it was all here.
But the main reason for its name was the atmosphere.
People without life or hope, surviving only through drugs and alcohol, in stark contrast to Arcane’s image as a “city of dreams.”
*Familiar as ever… still filthy and damp.*
Arthur lifted his mask slightly.
Willet’s job: settle a gang dispute in D-11.
Specifically, disable the mage supporting the *Ares Family*, who had started a war in defiance of the underworld’s rules.
Straightforward enough in theory, but taking down a gang-affiliated mage was no easy task.
*Low rank or not, a mage’s still a mage. And one in a gang will have guards… not as simple as it sounds.*
Arthur slowed, thinking of the quickest, cleanest way to handle it—he didn’t want to be tied down by a test.
Then, a bald man with a rose tattoo on his head stepped up and whispered,
“…Are you the one Willet-sir sent?”
Arthur snapped out of his thoughts.
“Who are you?”
“From the *Lester Family*, the one who hired Willet-sir.”
Arthur tilted his head.
“Huh… wasn’t told anyone would be meeting me.”
“In D District, someone walking around in fine clothes is either crazy or confident in their skills. We happened to hire Willet-sir, and that man’s nasty-tempered but works only with top mercenaries.”
Arthur let out an impressed sound.
“Oh… that’s a pretty good guess.”
“…You have a knack for making compliments sound insulting. So, are you the one he sent?”
“That’s right.”
“What should I call you?”
Arthur paused before giving his name.
*No reason to use my real one.*
He came up with a pseudonym from his own name.
“Donn.”
“Donn… never heard of you. New to the city?”
“Something like that.”
“Confident in your skills?”
“For the most part.”
The bald man was silent for a beat, then asked,
“Why take this job? We’re talking about killing a gang mage.”
“Let’s just say I have my reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“It’s partly Willet-sir’s test… and partly because that Ares mage’s a bad man.”
The bald man stopped.
“A bad man?”
“Yes. Broke the street rules, started a war, and I hear he’s been kidnapping street kids for organ trafficking.”
“…You don’t look like someone overflowing with justice.”
“I’m not. But if I *have* to kill someone, it’s easier on the conscience if it’s someone like that.”
The bald man blinked—then laughed.
“Interesting answer! Then let me ask one last thing!”
Arthur looked around. They had ended up near a collapsing building—no escape routes, and no one likely to come if trouble started.
*Nice lure. But where did my info leak from?*
From a distance, dozens of armed men were approaching.
Arthur smiled faintly as the bald man spoke.
“A nameless mercenary is one of two kinds—skilled or trash. Which are you?”
Arthur shrugged.
“Mm… at least good enough to kill you, I’d think.”
The man laughed.
“When did you realize?”
“From the moment you approached me.”
“And you still followed me?”
“I need to kill you—why waste such a perfect chance?”
The bald man’s lips twisted.
“With just a First Circle? Got some other trick?”
“Who knows… By the way, Mr. Bald?”
“Hazes.”
“Yes, Mr. Hazes. Shall we end the talking here?”
Arthur drew his sword.
“I don’t like chatting long with someone I’m about to kill. But I’ll listen to your last words.”
Hazes went silent, then gave a dry chuckle.
“A madman, then.”
“I get that a lot. But not right now.”
Arthur’s sword lashed out without warning.
Hazes’ eyes widened—
*Bang!*
Fortunately, the barrier he had prepared in advance stopped the strike.
But he couldn’t relax—the follow-up was twice as sharp.
Backing away, Hazes shouted,
“What are you waiting for?! Get him!”
The Ares Family men rushed in, drawing weapons—some even pulling pistols.
*Figures. Gangs and their troublesome toys.*
Arthur spun the ring on his hand.
Strength surged into his body, but even with First Circle reinforcement, his skin wouldn’t stop bullets.
So he overlaid the stolen bloodline power from Frakil atop his strengthened body.
*Crack—!*
His suit tore apart.
The mask on his face shattered, and chitinous reptilian armor spread over him.
At the sight of this unmagical transformation, Hazes blurted,
“What…? You’re a bloodline ability user?!”
Arthur, now fully changed, warned,
“If you block my way, I’ll have to kill you. No chance you’ll step aside, is there?”
The Ares Family answered by raising their weapons.
Arthur nodded.
“Gangsters, huh. I like the enthusiasm.”
