Chapter 151. The Truth (1)

The chase through the torrential rain was relentless.

Scaling the hillside by the riverbank, I faced a sprawling, dilapidated residential area. Crumbling, fractured roads formed a complex terrain.

Without hesitation, I plunged in.

“Damn it, spread out and find him!”

The pursuing Scavengers exchanged hand signals, fanning out. True to their gang’s name, they employed a meticulous pack-hunting tactic to flush out prey.

Glancing at their movements, I pressed my back against an alley wall, touching my earpiece.

“They’re scattering. On you.”

> [Got it. Clear view from here, as expected.]

A sniper rifle’s roar tore through my ears.

Simultaneously, a Scavenger collector tailing me through the alley collapsed, screaming.

> [Ranged caster neutralized. Combat ineffective. That’s four.]

“Remaining ranged casters?”

Instead of a reply, another ear-splitting shot echoed. Peering past the alley, I heard another collector rolling in a puddle.

> [All ranged casters down. Good enough?]

“Impressive.”

> [Don’t get cocky. I only took out the area-effect casters you’d find trickiest. The rest are still threats, so watch it.]

“That’s plenty. You’re skilled.”

> [Heh, obviously. That’s a given, right?]

Just then, the Scavengers, battered by sniper fire, clustered, raising translucent light barriers.

April’s calm voice sounded in my ear.

> [They’ll be cautious now, deploying defensive magic. Sniping’s useless from here. Moving to another blind spot.]

“Alright. I’ll draw them.”

At her words, I lowered my sword, stepping into view.

“There! It’s him!!”

“Chase! Get him!!”

Five Scavengers, wary of snipers, hugged the alley walls, sprinting.

Kicking off, I veered into a side alley.

Flickering streetlights illuminated the path. Rain-soaked, cracked brick pavement formed puddles.

Splashing footsteps echoed behind me.

Soon, a dead-end alley, blocked by a tall building, loomed.

I stopped calmly.

“He’s trapped! Grab him!!”

Scavenger collectors charged, splashing through puddles. Glancing back, I shouted.

“April, now, shoot!”

A piercing gunshot followed, the bullet hitting a puddle, spraying water.

Pale lightning bloomed across the surface, blue sparks erupting, shocking the Scavengers in the water.

“Hit confirmed. How’s that?”

Her voice wasn’t from the earpiece but direct.

Turning, I saw a girl with a sniper rifle on the second floor of a ruined building, looking down.

“Knew you’d come here. Still, that was fast.”

“Don’t underestimate a veteran freelancer.”

April lowered her glowing pink rifle’s silencer and barrel, leaping down lightly.

“Your plan’s working.”

Approaching, she cycled the bolt, reloading, her eyes glinting in the dimness.

“Cleared the riverbank enemies with sniping. Ronto’s safe for now.”

As she said, luring them was to protect Ronto from over twenty foes.

I hadn’t doubted I could win head-on. I nodded.

“Well done. Get him to safety.”

Staring, she shrugged, smiling faintly.

“Hmm, you’re really something.”

“Something?”

“Your plan to lure Scavengers here to save that kid? Not very freelancer-like.”

I replied coolly.

“Still a rookie freelancer. My bad.”

“Why apologize? I like it.”

She teased, turning, then glanced back, concerned.

“But can you handle the rest alone?”

“Worried?”

“Does it hurt to care?”

Pouting, she looked out the window at the pouring rain. Thunder rumbled distantly.

“Well, it’s worry. Scavengers exploit fear in residents. Their collectors are their elite.”

“Heard that.”

“Right. In this dog-eat-dog city, even rabble like them are apex predators. Not just riffraff.”

“…”

“Butcher’s the worst of the worst. Strong, too.”

Nodding calmly, she sighed, nudging me with her elbow.

“Honestly, I’d rather you not die or get hurt.”

Embarrassed, she twirled her hair, glancing away, adding with a pout.

“For freelancers like us, our body’s our asset. Senior advice. Listen up.”

“Never signed up as your junior.”

“Ugh, so petty. Just go with it!”

Her cat-like eyes glared, then she giggled.

“Fine, whatever. Talking to myself. First time I’ve liked a pair.”

“Glad to hear.”

Scavengers from another group spotted us, roaring.

“There! Kill him!”

I glanced at April.

“Ronto’s on you.”

“Got it. I’ll get him safe and be back. If it’s tough, hold out till I return.”

Heading to a broken side passage, she glanced back calmly.

“Don’t die. I’ll kill you again if you do.”

“Sure.”

“Tch, put some heart in it…”

Turning away, her side profile held a shy smile, embarrassed by her words.

“I’m off.”

Hugging her rifle, she hid her face, slipping into the alley.

…I saw it anyway.

Lowering my sword, I checked the time, walking out.

Not yet midnight.

The long night was just beginning.

***

Time blurred, but less than an hour passed. I looked up slowly.

Eighteen.

The number of enemies I’d neutralized.

The two ahead were the last.

I stared forward calmly.

In the pouring rain, two men panted, holding metal staffs.

“All… taken out by him…”

Scavengers littered the brick alley, felled in the dark rain.

Facing me, sword in hand, the two gritted their teeth.

One stepped forward, aiming his staff, shouting.

“Die!!”

A magic circle formed at the staff’s sharp tip, spinning.

Rain swirled, sucked into a point, forming a towering water storm, compressing tightly.

Dangerous.

Instinct screamed, and I leapt aside.

The compressed water storm tore through where I’d stood, splitting stone pavement with a delayed boom, spraying debris.

A chill ran down my spine.

Rank 13 spell, [Water Jet].

Like a water cutter, it could bisect a person.

As I sidestepped, a Scavenger spun his staff, redirecting the water stream.

Bending like a spring, I dodged, the stream hitting a wall with a roar, collapsing part of it.

Evading two more swings, I jumped into the exposed building interior through the dust.

Seeing me enter, a Scavenger shouted.

“H-He’s escaping!”

As the two mages rushed inside, a blue-black slash shot from the dark, blood bursting from the lead mage’s shoulder.

I’d closed the distance, striking.

“Gah, you madman!”

The wounded mage stumbled back as his ally touched the floor, activating a circle.

[Mud Recall]

Rain-soaked mud surged inside, pushing me back, sweeping the mages away like a wave.

The caster shouted.

“Can’t fight close! Keep distance, blanket the room with area attacks!”

His ally nodded, aiming gear.

Crash!!

The devastating [Water Jet] sliced walls, tables, and chairs, swinging erratically.

But his eyes widened.

Dodging the torrent, I charged like lightning, slashing at sonic speed.

His gear and shoulder flew off, realized a beat too late.

“Gah!”

Piercing his chest, I spun, landing.

Sliding forward, I erased the distance to the next foe, slashing horizontally.

Both collapsed, splashing mud, motionless.

Enemies neutralized, situation resolved.

Flicking blood from my sword, I wiped the blade on my forearm, scanning with blue-black eyes.

All collectors were down, but the fight wasn’t over.

The key foe, Butcher, hadn’t appeared.

Hum!!

A glowing aura enveloped me, cyan mana coiling.

“Ugh!”

My body felt crushed by a metal weight, strength draining. I staggered back a step or two.

Panic nearly set in.

What? What happened?

My earpiece beeped. April’s voice, urgent.

> [Hey, you hear me?]

Suppressing a strained voice, I replied.

“I’m… listening.”

> [Just heard from Ronto!]

Her voice was frantic.

> [Be careful! Butcher’s no joke!]

“Got info?”

> [Rank 11, with a unique magic. It’s a bad match for you.]

“Unique magic? What kind?”

> [Debuff, targeted!]

Targeted. A chill ran down my spine. The worst magic for a swordsman.

[Debuff], restrictive magic.

Like a game’s targeting skill—intangible, unavoidable, instant-cast.

No dodging, no countering.

“You know, freelancer?”

A voice came from the side.

Turning, a shadowed silhouette approached through the ruined building’s interior.

“Butchering’s key is stopping resistance. Keeps it clean.”

The nearing voice chuckled.

“My job shows me ugly sights. People crying, soiling themselves, begging, offering everything. So, this handy unique magic manifested.”

Dim streetlight revealed him.

A modern robe with a cyan waterproof apron-like overlay. The Scavenger leader.

“Butcher.”

I tilted my head, eyeing him calmly.

Among original Scavengers, collectors like him were exceptionally strong.

Not killers. Butchers.

They extorted non-mages, slaughtering them like livestock when useless.

I’d vaguely sensed his danger, but not his unique magic.

> “—Five years ago, during ‘that incident’ in Victoria Kazimieśi, no other district’s Scavengers had a Butcher as strong as the 19th’s.”

Butcher, confident in his advantage, pointed at me, sneering.

“You and your sniper, freelancers from another district? Boss warned of trouble, but you’re bigger fish than expected.”

“Know me?”

“Of course.”

He smirked, twirling ice-pick wands.

“You trashed a Scavenger branch alone, with Rank 10s, in another district. That kind of rumor sticks. Right?”

He gestured at my sword.

“With that ‘sword,’ not gear.”

“…”

Using a sword, even masked, meant fame was inevitable. Expected, but hearing it was surreal.

“Freelancer, not sure why, but you protected that kid. Luring us here’s obvious, but you don’t regret it, do you?”

Certain his magic sealed my fate, he grinned.

“My magic’s imperfect. Great, but needs prolonged eye contact and proximity to trigger. Dragging the fight was your mistake.”

“Talkative.”

I gripped my sword two-handed.

His smug expression twitched, baffled.

“…What? You’re moving under my magic?”

I ignored him.

Debuff, straining physical ability. Unclear how, but my magic resistance reagent helped. I could move. That was enough.

“Interesting.”

Butcher approached, his black boots creaking on the wooden floor.

I watched, sword lowered.

He smirked, nodding.

“Talkative, huh? Fine. No need for words now.”

Spinning his ice-pick gear, he gripped them reverse, crossing his arms.

I raised my sword, assuming stance.

In the tense standoff, Butcher bared gleaming teeth under his mask, grinning.

“I’ll butcher you.”

“If you can.”

My calm reply sparked a mana explosion in the dark.

Boom!!

Shattering the floor, I charged, Butcher closing in.

Black robe and cyan apron clashed head-on, billowing fiercely.

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