Chapter 81

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Chapter 81: Poxxon (2)

It would have been a relief if poison had been detected in the potion.

At least then they could begin tracking it backward.

‘But the problem is that nothing came up.’

That meant the culprit behind this incident was far more meticulous than anticipated.

At the very least, they hadn’t left behind any clues that could expose them.

Unlike what they initially thought, perhaps these were seasoned individuals with experience in this kind of work.

“Not finding poison… isn’t exactly good news.”

“Exactly. It means we can’t even say we’re innocent.”

If they simply claimed, “We found no poison in our potions after conducting tests,”

who would believe them?

People had already died.

Even if they released the ingredient reports to the media, people would think it was just for show.

“So what do we do now?”

“What else? We’ll have to hit the streets.”

Oscar turned to look at Paul Wagner and asked,

“Is there any way to know the location of the mercenaries who drank the potion and died? Or the tasks they were on?”

“We tried to investigate that part as well… but we were refused. Everyone’s far too sensitive right now.”

It was understandable.

Who wouldn’t be angry when a comrade had died?

“Then we’ll have to visit them ourselves.”

“T-That’s far too dangerous!”

Paul Wagner, startled, tried to stop him.

Meeting mercenaries furious over their comrades’ deaths was like walking straight into a lion’s den.

“It’ll be fine. For now, we’re just going to talk.”

Oscar patted Fran, who was standing beside him with a sour expression, on the shoulder.

“Whatever happens, we’ve got him here.”

* * *

“…And who did you say you were?”

The veins on Jan’s face bulged as he glared at them from the sofa in the mercenary office.

Fran swallowed nervously before replying.

“H-Hello. I’m Fran Sirius, a Level 4 mage of the White Tower—”

“Get the hell out!”

Boom!

Jan slammed his massive shield into the floor.

It shook the entire office as if an earthquake had hit.

“Before I lose my temper and my fist flies.”

The leader of the mercenaries, who had been silently listening, spoke coldly.

“He might have said it a bit harshly, but we agree with him.”

Five mercenaries were sitting or standing in various spots around the small office.

At first glance, they seemed casually scattered, but Oscar could tell.

These men had worked together for years.

‘If that weren’t the case, they couldn’t have naturally positioned themselves in ways that made it easy to cover one another.’

Oscar moved slightly, stepping into the only weak point he could sense in their formation.

“This must be the seat of Dawson, the man who passed away.”

The moment he spoke, the mercenaries drew their weapons and pointed them at him.

The air tightened, suffocatingly tense.

But Oscar spoke calmly.

“We need your help.”

“…Help?”

The mercenary leader smirked, his killing intent pressing down on Oscar.

“Are you asking us to lie for you because your business might suffer?”

“…”

Oscar could feel it.

If his next words were even slightly off, the response would not be verbal—it would be steel.

“Someone’s been playing games. As you said, they’re trying to cause trouble for our business.”

“…”

Neither words nor swords flew.

Taking that as a sign to continue, Oscar pressed on.

“In the process, six innocent victims were caught up. To be honest, our goal is to prove that there’s nothing wrong with the White Tower’s potions. At the same time, those who died unjustly can rest in peace.”

“…”

The mercenary leader stared coldly at Oscar for a long moment.

“Can you take responsibility for those words?”

“I swear it.”

After staring at Oscar’s firm expression, the leader clicked his tongue lightly.

“…Put your weapons away.”

“Damn it!”

Bang!

Jan punched the wall in frustration.

“Damn it! So Dawson just died for nothing, huh?”

A single individual dying in a power struggle was, unfortunately, all too common.

But it didn’t make the emotions of those left behind any less real.

Oscar clenched his fists tightly.

‘People who treat lives like they’re worthless for their own ends…’

If they’d managed to stay out of his sight, that was one thing.

But now that they’d caught his attention, he had no intention of letting them be.

Root to branch, he’d wipe them out completely—for the sake of a healthier society.

“So, why did you come to us?”

“After retrieving all the potions the White Tower had been selling in the mosque, we tested them. No poison was detected.”

“…What?”

“That’s absurd! Are you saying Dawson and the others died after drinking the potions just by some cruel coincidence?”

Jan shouted, but Oscar shook his head.

“No. There’s a common link. They all drank our potions before they died. But since no poison was detected, we need to learn more about the circumstances at the time.”

“The circumstances… We were handling a giant rat extermination mission.”

“The location?”

“The sewers. The stench there was unbearable.”

Stench.

The word sparked something in Oscar’s mind.

He asked a few more questions and then stood up.

“We will capture the culprits. I promise.”

“…”

The leader nodded silently, while the others, including Jan, said nothing.

Even if the culprit was caught now, their fallen comrades would never return.

* * *

“Phew, this is just draining.”

Oscar and Fran visited five more mercenary offices after that.

Every single time, a fight almost broke out, so it was no wonder they both felt utterly exhausted.

“Well, at least we managed to resolve things with words.”

“You're surprisingly good at talking. If it were me, I’d have gotten punched a couple of times and kicked out.”

“……”

Oscar couldn’t fully appreciate the compliment, a faint, bitter smile tugging at his lips.

He was too familiar with dealing with the families of the fallen.

“Still, we did learn something today.”

“Ah, I think I know what it is.”

Fran, who had been with him all day, chimed in.

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

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“The loss of smell. Right?”

“Exactly.”

The six mercenary offices they visited were all handling different requests, but two things were consistent:

Those places all reeked with a terrible stench, and they were dark.

‘Sewers, garbage disposal sites, food waste areas, forests contaminated with mutated monsters…’

Just getting close to those places made their faces scrunch up, and not long after, their sense of smell was dulled completely.

In places like that, poisoning someone quietly would be almost effortless.

‘They might have used a powder that becomes poisonous when combined with our potions. The methods are endless.’

The two of them realized this and immediately asked the mercenaries they met for help.

They needed to know if there were any other requests related to such foul-smelling places.

If other mercenaries were working in similar locations, then…

There could be more deaths.

“Ah, there’s one. And it’s another sewer.”

“Where is it?”

“…The western sewer. That place is a nightmare, full of dead ends.”

As long as no one had taken the request yet, they still had time.

The moment that thought crossed Oscar's mind, the mercenary leader frowned.

“Damn it, looks like we’re late. Another mercenary office took this request an hour ago.”

“Take us there.”

There could be no more meaningless sacrifices.

Looking into Oscar’s unwavering eyes, the mercenary leader let out a long sigh.

“Two sewer jobs in a row, huh… Guys, gear up!”

* * *

“This is your first time doing a request like this, right?”

Squelch, squelch.

The youngest mercenary of the Mackin Mercenary Office asked innocently as they trudged through the sewer.

It made sense—this kind of request was rare, even in his few months as a mercenary.

“Investigating sewer ecology? Why would anyone care about this place?”

“Who knows? The pay is good, so maybe some eccentric alchemist or mage needs it for their research.”

“We don’t need to know why. We just do the job and take the money.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind more of these requests. Just walk around a bit, and you’re done.”

“Still…”

Squelch, squelch.

The youngest mercenary frowned, looking at the muck rising to his thighs.

“My stomach’s weak. I really don’t want to do jobs like this.”

“Geez, kids these days. Can’t do this, can’t do that. What can you do, huh?”

“When I fought the demons back in the day, I had to survive for three days by hiding in a pile of corpses.”

The mood was unusually peaceful for a mercenary job.

It wasn’t surprising—aside from the occasional giant sewer rat, there were no real threats here.

“Ah!”

Suddenly, the youngest mercenary screamed and stumbled, splashing into the filthy water.

The others burst out laughing at his expense.

“What’s the matter? Can’t even walk properly?”

“You’re completely soaked now. Don’t come near me until you shower.”

“N-No, it’s not that… I think something stabbed me…”

Frowning, the youngest mercenary lifted one leg and rested it on the opposite knee.

At that moment, the other mercenaries’ faces turned pale.

A massive spike had pierced through his boot.

“Damn it! I told you to stay focused! Move aside!”

The mercenary leader waded through the water and yanked the spike out in one motion.

“Ahhh!”

“Stop whining. Some potion and a bandage will fix it.”

The leader snorted, pulling a potion from his pocket.

The youngest mercenary stopped him as he prepared to pour it on the wound.

“W-Wait. That’s not a White Tower potion, is it?”

“You’re the biggest coward I’ve ever trained. They’ve already recalled all of those. Don’t worry.”

The leader smirked and shook the potion, showing off the Blue Tower insignia on the bottle.

Relieved, the youngest mercenary watched as the leader moved to pour the potion.

Thwack!

Someone suddenly grabbed the leader’s wrist.

“Now’s not the time to use that potion.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“When did he get here?”

Startled, the mercenaries drew their weapons.

The newcomer was so skilled that none of them had noticed his presence.

He snatched the potion bottle and splashed its contents against the wall.

Ssshhhhh!

The wall hissed and melted as though lava had been poured on it.

“What… What is this?”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“The air in this sewer is laced with a poisonous mist that reacts with potion ingredients. Treat him on the surface.”

“…Thanks. We almost lost him. We’ll repay this favor later.”

The mercenaries hoisted the youngest onto their backs and hurried toward the exit.

Oscar, who had been standing silently, finally turned around.

‘The poison mist lasts only three minutes.’

So how could it have been deployed at the exact moment the mercenaries used a potion?

The answer was simple.

‘Someone’s been following them the entire time.’

And there was only one reason that could be possible.

BOOM!

Oscar deflected a sharp wave of water with the back of his hand.

“Tsk, your reflexes are better than I expected.”

A magical barrier shimmered and dissolved, revealing a mage who had been tailing the mercenaries.

It wasn’t an illusion spell from the Violet Tower.

‘…The Blue Tower.’

They had been bending light by manipulating water to remain invisible.

That’s why they could only operate in dark, dirty places.

It was the reason mercenaries always died in those environments.

“You figured it out and tracked me down, kid.”

The mage who emerged had a face Oscar vaguely remembered.

“You’ve come to your grave.”

Moira Main, a Level 5 mage of the Blue Tower.

Smirking darkly, she radiated a chilling, murderous aura.

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