Chapter 92 - Shadow Hand (4)

"Are we really okay just leaving things like this?"

Bong-sik kept looking around restlessly, clearly anxious about something.

"About what?"

"That... we used that. Shouldn't we silence him...?"

In other words, kill him.

It was a common thing.

While Explorers made their living through exploration, killing ultimately underlined their profession.

Even farming was a battle with nature.

It wasn’t just humans who tried to steal crops.

Rather, nature itself could be called farming's main enemy.

While agriculture's essence was sowing seeds, growing crops, and harvesting, behind the scenes lied a fierce war protecting cultivated plants from nature's raiders.

If even farming was like this, how much more intense must an Explorer's life be, directly traversing unknown wilderness?

The bloody path of killing and being killed was the red carpet Explorers were meant to walk.

So killing people wasn't strange for Explorers.

And Bong-sik was scum who had no qualms about killing for personal gain.

For Bong-sik, suggesting we silence him through death was just common sense.

"No need. How would we climb higher without him anyway?"

I wasn’t pursuing something as nonsensical as pacifism.

Death was no longer unfamiliar to me either.

Rather, I knew well that death always circled around me, and sometimes flew toward others by my hand.

But there was no need for indiscriminate killing.

I can silence him anyway.

"Oh my, seems your companion is unwell," a smooth-talking coachman stopped and spoke.

Though the branch director carried by Bong-sik was actually fine, he certainly looked the part.

"Where are you headed? Since you have a patient, shall we go to Serapaion School?"

"Telema School. The location..."

"I know it. We coachmen know this city's streets like the lines on our palms. Come on, get in. Just 400 Rupe per person."

Roughly 1 Rupe is 100 won, so 40,000 won per person, 120,000 won total.

Expensive.

This was why I avoided private carriages.

Though it was Bong-sik's money, what was his was mine and what was mine was also mine, so wasn’t it like spending my own money?

While I was contemplating whether to ride, Bong-sik quickly pulled out money.

"Here."

Then he gave me a look urging me to get in quickly.

I'll let it slide this time.

The carriage wasn't the kind with doors and front-back seats inside, but rather a cargo structure designed to accommodate maximum passengers.

Simply put, a cargo wagon.

Most private carriages in Res Limen were like this.

Though there were occasional luxury carriages, they were so expensive they were practically exclusive to successful Explorers or visiting noble tourists.

As Bong-sik hurried to board the back before I changed my mind, he noticed me standing still and spoke, "Aren't you getting in?"

"You first."

"Ah, yes."

Bong-sik tossed the branch director in like cargo and hopped up.

Instead of following Bong-sik, I stepped up to the coachman's seat.

"Let's go."

The coachman flicked the reins without protest.

As the horse started moving, a strange tense silence fell between me and the coachman.

Then, I spoke first, "You're faster than expected?"

"Speed is life in this business."

Of course, we weren't talking about the horse's speed.

"Are you Valen Whickerton?"

Though half-certain, I asked directly to confirm.

The coachman wiped the sly smile from his face and spoke with a stern expression, "Roman Sun. Age 20. Main class Devil Sorcerer. Novice Explorer of Telema School. Training center graduate, presumed central figure of the 864th class called the golden generation, including promising individuals like Fiona McManus, Arthur Carlyle, and Alexandra Rubio. Hunted a Chromatic Fiend during training, later disbanded Senior Explorer Jan Wasik's team, and hunted Sentinels with Luke the Romantic. Based on these activities, combat ability is estimated at Senior rather than Novice level."

Well-informed, aren't ya?

I wonder how he knew about hunting Sentinels with Luke.

Has he planted informants in the Union too?

"And this incident confirmed it."

"What?"

"That all these estimates are true."

"Oh? Then let me try too."

I recited the information I had, just as the coachman had done.

"Valen Whickerton. Estimated age 30s. Presumed main class Devil Sorcerer. Member of Shadow Hand. Knows information he shouldn't. Though he denied it, presumed source of information about undiscovered ruins. Possibly scum cooperating with Abyss Worshipers or the Cult of the End."

Though my information was really all speculation, now I understand better.

"And now something's become clear."

The presence of Devils that Devil Sorcerers must have—this coachman didn't have it.

He wasn’t a Devil Sorcerer.

While better Devil Sorcerers could hide that presence from lower mages, I was an exception.

I was a pact-bearer of high-ranking Devils, whom even Hecate couldn't hide her Devil’s presence from.

Then.

"Probability of being an Abyss Worshiper, very high."

"Puhah!"

The coachman laughed at my words.

Though trying to hold it in, he couldn't help letting out laughter and asked.

"So. Knowing I might be an Abyss Worshiper, you still sat beside me?"

A faint killing intent.

Even this killing intent felt familiar now.

When I first properly felt killing intent during the training center raid, breathing felt difficult, but now it was like a greeting.

"Well, I'm confident I can escape with my life."

It might be called safety insensitivity, but I also calculated that if he was thinking straight, he wouldn't cause trouble within the city.

Though the City Guard's core strength was concentrated in the Expedition Team, the Security Force wasn't an organization to underestimate.

If trouble broke loose, I figured I could leave it to the City Guard and slip away.

It would be foolish recklessness against opponents like Viola or that Professor, but my patron Devils' scouter didn’t catch that high of a power level.

"Reckless."

I shrugged.

"I'm kind of busy."

Time is short.

That's true.

I’ll never know when that Jegan guy might revive and spread information about me.

"Still, quite interesting guesses. Unfortunately, all wrong except one."

Then the coachman revealed the only correct answer from his grading.

"I am Valen Whickerton. I'm not an Abyss Worshiper. I just buy and sell information to anyone, as long as the price is right."