The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
Chapter 47: Variable (1)
December, the month when the train called a year reaches its final station.
The night had brought a heavy snowfall, making the air chilly.
Meanwhile, a grand party was being held in the city.
The festive atmosphere was palpable even at the tranquil Hoover family estate, several kilometers away from the city center.
Boom! Pop! Boom, boom, boom!
The sound of fireworks exploding over the forest of buildings in downtown Baran City reached even this far.
"How are the security cameras?"
"I've disabled them."
Omar, the head of Omar's Mercenary Office, glanced at his wristwatch upon hearing his subordinate's report.
10:00:23 PM
The operation had begun perfectly.
"You have five hours. Steal the encrypted data within that time frame."
"Yes, sir!"
In Baran City, where there was no concept of a feudal lord, even nobles were strictly forbidden from keeping private troops.
In other words, they had to hire mercenaries whenever an armed conflict arose, just like now.
Mark Sweet had recruited as many as 152 mercenaries for this day.
Most of them were level 1 or 2, but there were thirty level 3 mercenaries and as many as ten level 4 mercenaries.
‘The problem was...’
They weren't the only mercenaries hired for the job.
Omar frowned as he turned his head.
"Samuel, where are you going?"
"The cameras are off, right? What are you hesitating for?"
"I have a plan laid out, so I'd appreciate it if you followed it."
"Hah, acting like you're the leader. We'll be moving independently, just so you know."
"Looks like it's been decided, so Jackson's Mercenary Office will also move on its own."
The disorganization was apparent.
The problem stemmed from hiring multiple mercenary offices simultaneously.
Nearby, subordinates glared at the opposing mercenaries.
"We were the ones who disabled the cameras. How dare they move ahead of us?"
"Boss, should we establish discipline first?"
"...No, leave it be."
Omar let out a deep sigh and shook his head.
He had expected this from the beginning.
"If the forces were evenly matched, I would've stepped in, but the gap is too wide."
The opposing side's force only consisted of four level 4 mercenaries and two mages from the White Tower.
They couldn't make proper hires because of the pressure Mark Sweet put on all the mercenary offices.
On top of that, the employer's daughter had put a bounty of 300,000 bels per mage, making this kind of competition inevitable.
"Boss, let's head out before it's too late. At this rate, we'll only be helping the others."
"...Yeah, let's go."
The mercenaries who infiltrated the Hoover estate were greeted by a snow-covered forest.
"Move quietly to the mansion without making any noise."
Other mercenaries seemed to be thinking the same.
Over a hundred mercenaries sprinted silently through the dark forest.
The only sounds were the wind blowing and the dry winter leaves crunching.
Suddenly, there was a click.
"...Huh?"
A mercenary named Bill, who thought he had stepped on a bug, instinctively turned around.
Sizzle!
His ankle area started to burn.
'Huh? Huh?'
As the world tilted diagonally, his body fell forward.
Thud!
Instead of wondering why he fell, embarrassment hit him first.
Bill, blushing, hurriedly tried to stand up.
"Aaaahhh!”
An indescribable pain shot up from his ankle.
Only then did Bill realize his ankle had been severed, and he let out a scream.
That was just the beginning.
"My ankle! My ankle is gone!"
"It hurts, it hurts so much...!"
"Dammit! There are traps here!"
The mercenaries whose ankles were severed writhed in pain on the ground.
Seeing this up close made the others break into a cold sweat. If they had taken just a few more steps, they would've been the ones lying there.
'This isn't good.'
'Morale is dropping even before the fight begins.'
The quick-witted mercenary leaders promptly spoke up.
"Everyone, watch your step as you move! If you do, there won't be any issues!"
"If you step on a mine, wait for a comrade to disarm it. It's just a minor magical trap."
"There's no need to rush. We have plenty of time. As long as we reach the mansion slowly..."
Bang!
At that moment, Jackson, the loudest mercenary leader, suddenly collapsed.
"Boss, boss?"
A subordinate shined a flashlight on him, revealing a hole in his forehead.
"He's... dead."
Before the shock of the level 4 mercenary Jackson's death could set in, there was another click!
Magic mines hidden on the ground began to release wind blades in every direction.
"Damn it! Who's triggering these traps?!"
"Don't lift your foot if you step on one! Aaargh!"
"No, no! These aren't going off because we stepped on them!"
The mines, which hadn't been stepped on, were activating on their own.
This meant the enemy could remotely detonate the traps.
Realizing this, the mercenary leaders shouted in unison.
"Run! Get out of this damn forest fast!"
"Move while staying behind cover! Otherwise, they’ll pinpoint our location... Argh!"
The continuous explosions of wind mines, coupled with sniper shots from a distance, threw the mercenaries into panic.
They sprinted toward the faint lights of the mansion without looking back.
"...Running recklessly like that in the forest."
And looming over the heads of the fleeing mercenaries was none other than:
"You're practically begging to be killed."
The forest warrior, Killian Lockwood.
"Huff, huff."
Level 3 mercenary, Woody, crouched behind a large tree, covering his mouth with both hands.
He was bitterly regretting accepting this job lured by the promise of big money.
'Damn it, where's the overwhelming advantage they talked about?'
He had believed the boasting mercenaries before the operation started.
But when the battle began, it was the other way around.
They were getting killed one by one without even putting up a proper fight.
Because there was a ghost in this forest.
"Aaaahhhh!"
Thud!
The scream from nearby made Woody hold his breath.
The eerie, dying wails of those who perished chilled him to the bone.
He nervously held his breath, rolling his eyes in fear.
"Phew!"
Even after exhaling his held breath, he was still cautious, gripping his gun tightly and looking around.
'Did it leave? It must have, right?'
He had held his breath for at least a minute.
Surely, it wouldn't still be lingering here.
Gaining a bit of courage, Woody slowly stood up.
He planned to escape through the wall he had sneaked in from.
Drip, drip.
Just then, a few drops of unknown liquid fell onto his face.
'Water? Is the snow melting?'
But in this cold weather, snow wouldn't be melting.
Woody instinctively looked up and screamed.
"Ahhh!"
A ghost was crouching on the bare tree branch above him.
With red eyes glowing like a predator, the ghost casually glanced at the blood dripping from his glove and muttered.
"Oh, don't worry. It's not my blood."
"Who the hell would worry about that... Die, you ghost bastard!"
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Woody's machine gun spat fire, and the ghost didn’t even attempt to dodge.
"There's one thing I particularly dislike."
Ting-ting! Ting-ting-ting!
Or rather, there was no reason for him to dodge.
The bullets didn’t even penetrate the ghost's magically reinforced clothing.
"And that’s the smell of gunpowder in the sacred forest."
Those were the last words Woody ever heard in his life.
Oscar, whose eyes were burning, closed them for a moment to take a break.
It was a side effect of using the 『Thermal Vision』 spell to spot enemies hiding in the forest.
‘Man, this thing eats up mana like crazy.’
The improvised long-range sniper magic,『Wind Sniping』, he had created.
Its effect was remarkable, but it consumed 5% of his mana each time he used it, which was the only drawback.
‘Well, still...’
For a first combat deployment, its performance was satisfactory.
The two techniques, 『Wind Mine』 and 『Wind Sniping』, had immobilized as many as 67 enemies.
‘Among them, three were Level 4 mercenaries.’
Oscar, perched on a seemingly comfortable rock, smirked.
"Scan."
Instantly, a bird's-eye view of the forest appeared before him, with the locations of the enemies gradually marked.
‘This one's Killian, and those are the allied mercenaries.’
They swept through enemies they encountered, who were exhausted and driven to fear.
Eventually, the enemies, reduced to around fifty, began to flee in the opposite direction.
‘It's over.’
With only three Level 4 mercenaries remaining, the enemy forces were reduced to a third of their original size.
The thought of regrouping and launching another attack probably didn’t even cross their minds.
Just as Oscar was thinking the battle ended more easily than expected and was about to stand up...
"...Huh?"
The mercenaries who had managed to escape to the front gate suddenly started running toward the mansion, at twice their previous speed.
‘What the hell?’
Were they not mentally broken even after going through all that in the forest?
Were they really that desperate for money?
‘No, that's not the problem here.’
Given their exhaustion, it made no sense for them to run at that speed.
Oscar furrowed his brow.
He shifted his gaze from the forest overview to the entrance of the estate far ahead.
Something unforeseen was lurking there.
Killian Lockwood took a deep breath with his eyes closed.
Just that alone gave him a wealth of information about the forest.
‘The smell of gunpowder has stopped. They’ve all fled.’
A short yet long night.
He had been chasing and fighting the enemies for over two hours.
"Killian!"
"Ah, so you two were here."
Two allied mercenaries who had been tightening the encirclement approached him.
The other two mercenaries were at the mansion, closely guarding Jake, so they weren't present.
"We did it!"
"Just four of us drove away more than 150 enemies. This will go down as a historic victory!"
Killian could understand their excitement.
Even he had expected a much tougher fight.
The battle would have been more challenging if Oscar hadn't initially overwhelmed the enemy with traps.
"Hmm."
Killian smirked, thinking the current atmosphere was quite good.
"That weapon of yours looks pretty decent."
“Do- do you want it?"
"...Hmm. No, it's fine."
Although he had smiled, the mercenary pondered what might have gone wrong.
Sniff, sniff.
Killian’s head turned as he smelled the acrid scent of gunpowder.
"...Even after all that, they still haven’t learned their lesson?"
"What? You really want this weapon?"
"Forget the weapon. Prepare for battle. The enemies are coming back."
Killian looked into the dark forest as the enemies approached.
"Grrr, grr..."
"Graaahhh!"
Groaning and screaming, they ran towards him.
Their eyes were rolled back, showing only the whites, and drool was spilling from their mouths.
‘Did they take some kind of drug?’
Killian grimaced and delivered a low kick to an incoming mercenary.
The kick shattered one of the mercenary’s knees and had enough force left to break the other.
“Kraaaah!”
Even after collapsing, the mercenary clawed at the ground, crawling towards him, eventually grabbing onto Killian's ankle.
Then he tried to bite Killian's ankle.
"Get it off."
Crack!
Killian kicked the mercenary's jaw, knocking him out, but the mercenary slowly continued crawling.
Killian's face hardened.
This was a technique that turned the target into a mindless berserker, incapable of anything but fighting.
The only way to stop them was to give them eternal rest.
‘It's certain. It’s the same technique the traitor used on the chieftain.’
Unpleasant memories resurfaced.
The sight of the forest warriors weeping blood as a group.
The night when he had to deliver a dishonorable death to the once-bravest warrior, the chieftain of the forest tribe.
“Kraaaah! H-help me!”
"There's something wrong with these guys... Ahhh!"
Allied mercenaries called for reinforcements.
As Killian was about to step forward to assist them...
A chilling, sinister energy emerged from behind him, halting his steps.
And contrasting with that, a cheerful voice held him in place.
"It’s been a while. About four years, huh?"
It was a somewhat unfamiliar voice now, but it was etched clearly in his memory like a brand.
Killian slowly turned around, glaring at the person with rage-filled eyes.
"...Kaya Lockwood."
There stood the worst traitor in the history of the forest, and Killian’s own sister, whom he hadn't seen in four years.

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