The destructive power of Lightning Strike was as immense as its name suggested. The man was passing over a small warehouse when the entire building collapsed with a crash. I let out a short sigh at the unexpected force.
"Second-stage magic is this powerful? And my magic power is only 15…?" Was this the power of the Neurochip? Or was it due to the Great Mage's Blessing? It didn't appear on the system screen, but it might be a passive trait. The only unexplained trait is the Great Mage's Blessing.
I mimicked the motions of a mage from the game, and Lightning Strike activated. Normally, magic involves procedures like energy conversion, incantation, and casting, but with the system's power, all of that seemed unnecessary. Just copying the motion made the magic work—meaning I could use it effortlessly without practice.
"Anyway, this is a problem." I looked at the half-destroyed warehouse. The assassin lay motionless among the debris, either unconscious or dead.
I had planned to maintain my disguise until I met the King of the Back Alleys, but who would have thought such a formidable opponent would appear? The destructive power is impressive, but it was too loud. No sooner had I thought that than I heard footsteps approaching from a distance.
I picked up the unconscious assassin and hid.
"It's here! Everyone, this way!"
It sounded like the city guards—they must have been patrolling nearby.
As I attempted to slip away quietly, one of the guards shouted, "Wait! There's a bloodstain here!"
What? Could it be from this guy?
"Damn it..." I touched the assassin's head and felt something sticky.
The guards were slowly approaching my hiding spot.
"I wanted to resolve this quietly, but it's too late now."
I had no choice but to step out with the assassin in tow.
The guards were startled and immediately pointed their weapons at me.
"Aren't you going to take care of this?"
"Huh?"
They looked into my eyes—and immediately sheathed their swords, saluting.
"Ah, you're the son of Arahan... We apologize for the misunderstanding."
"What's going on?" I asked.
"We heard a loud noise during our patrol. But... you're not Lord Tunda… Sorry to ask, but may we know your name? I'm new here, so I don't recognize you."
Red eyes were unique to the Arahan lineage. Even with lenses, they couldn't replicate the original. The guards bowed, seeking forgiveness.
"The culprit ran that way. Please chase them."
"Thank you for the tip! We'll pursue immediately!"
The guards quickly moved away, their retreating figures filled with relief.
In Arahan's city, my status was absolute. Not bad. I resolved it with just a few words.
Suppressing a smile, I turned to the unconscious assassin.
As I moved deeper into the alley, the darkness and stench grew stronger. It felt like walking through a different world—one where my senses were my only guide.
Then, a voice called out from ahead.
"Son of Arahan…"
It was the voice I had been waiting for—the reason I had brought this assassin.
I set the assassin down and spoke.
"Show yourself."
Two silhouettes emerged from the shadows, moving stealthily. They were the assassins who had fled earlier. What were their names? Kinzera?
"Please forgive our rudeness earlier..."
"We beg you, with your great generosity, to release our brother."
The assassins knelt before me.
I sensed no mana or killing intent from them. They had discarded their daggers, showing their sincerity.
"We truly regret attempting to harm the son of Arahan."
"We swear we will never do such a thing again… Please, release our brother."
They began to sob. Their bond as triplets seemed strong. Seeing them beg so desperately stirred a flicker of sympathy within me.
But my stance on murder remained unchanged.
However, for the oppressed commoners, Kinzera might be their only hope. In a world where strength and law couldn't solve everything, they were a necessary evil.
"There's one condition," I said, glancing at the unconscious assassin.
Trading their brother for something didn't sit well with me, but I needed to meet the King of the Back Alleys.
"What condition?" they asked.
"Take me to your leader. Then I'll help treat your brother."
They hesitated, as expected. It was only natural—they wouldn't want to betray their comrade.
If they had agreed too quickly, I would have doubted their sincerity.
"I'm not here to harm or capture your leader. I only want to buy information."
"But everyone says that," one of them replied. "They claim they want information, but our leader has never sold any."
"I know why," I said. "It's because no one knows what your leader truly wants."
But I did.
"If the deal doesn't work out, I promise not to harm your comrade. I swear on the name of Arahan."
They exchanged glances, their resolve hardening.
"Alright, we'll take you to our leader. But first, may we check if you're being followed?"
"Go ahead."
The assassins cautiously approached me and tied my hands, still wary. Once my back was turned, they quickly tightened the bindings.
"Is the Black Guard nearby?"
Their level wouldn't allow them to detect the Black Guard's presence. Even if the Guard erased their tracks with mana, only someone of the same level could sense them.
The Black Guard served directly under the lord's command, and the lord never interfered in the sibling rivalry. That meant I had nothing to worry about.
"We'll blindfold you," they said, covering my eyes with a black cloth.
Now, it was time to meet the King of the Back Alleys.