"Well now, that was quite something… Reporter Cain."
The sudden voice of a third party made both McKee and his father Cain fall silent.
That third voice, of course, belonged to Daniel Davis. For him, intercepting a call—no matter how secure the line was—was effortless.
"So, you're the one trying to challenge the rules of the Commercial Union?"
After a long pause, Cain finally spoke.
"Challenge?" Daniel laughed. "Mr. Cain, you're joking. The Commercial Union might seem vast and powerful to you, but to me… it's just like when you all casually ran over some Infected in the streets. I could crush you just as easily. But that would be too boring.
You see this knightly spectacle you use for entertainment? Now it's my entertainment."
"You sympathize with those who should be living in the sewers," Cain said mockingly.
"Mr. Cain, allow me the honor of telling you this—you've angered me. Since you seem to think so little of the Infected, I'm quite curious to see how you react once you become one yourself. Enjoy the remainder of your life."
With that, Daniel hung up the call and took out a piece of paper. He wrote something on it, and the note instantly vanished from before him.
"So… it's come to this, huh? He must have really pissed off the real one."
Somewhere in a luxury hotel in Columbia, one of Daniel's shadow clones watched the paper appear in front of him and lightly shook his head.
Because of his affiliation with Rhodes Island, Daniel would never normally use a method as cruel as infecting someone with Oripathy. But since Rhodes Island wasn't aware of this particular action, he didn't mind taking a little detour. Why should the wicked act without restraint while the good constantly hesitate, bound by moral shackles?
Boom.
A sudden explosion engulfed a luxury car in searing flames. A figure burst from the inferno—only to be met by a second blast that hurled them through the air.
The man landed hard but managed to recover in a half-crouch. However, a piercing scream escaped his lips—not from pain, but from the black Originium crystals now sprouting from all over his body.
The shockwave from the explosion had been packed with Originium shards. The crystals had pierced him everywhere. Even if he took a suppressant now, it was too late—especially since those medications were destroyed in the blast.
"Not bad, Reporter Cain—you've got some real skills."
A figure in a white wooden mask suddenly appeared before him: Daniel's shadow clone. Cain had been careful. The moment he heard Daniel's threat, he tried to relocate. Unfortunately, he hadn't been fast enough.
The rest was simple. That explosion? Daniel's doing, of course.
"You did this?" Cain's eyes radiated pure hatred. If looks could kill, he'd have flayed Daniel alive. For someone of his status, becoming an Infected meant utter ruin.
"Don't give me that look. I'm simply using your own methods. So, how does it feel, being an Infected?"
With that, Daniel appeared beside him and shattered all four of his limbs with precise, brutal kicks—ensuring he couldn't flee.
"The military police will be here soon. Enjoy your new Infected treatment. Oh, and this is just the beginning. I hear the labor camps in Ursus treat Infected quite well. I'll be sure to send you there for a long vacation."
With that, he vanished. Since Cain lived in the wealthy district, the response time was swift.
But when the military arrived and saw the Originium growths on his body, their expressions changed immediately. Cain wasn't tossed into isolation immediately—likely due to his wealth—but three days later, he was.
It didn't take long. All it took was one suggestion from the right person. Cain had come to Columbia to do business and brought a lot of money with him.
Normally, no one would dare touch it. But now that he was Infected—and not even a local? And from Kazimierz? That made things much easier.
"Well, look who broke out of quarantine already. Guess you're just dying to visit that Ursus mine, huh?"
"Wait!"
Cain had barely escaped the Infected containment zone when his nightmare reappeared.
"Time waits for no one. Don't thank me too much."
Daniel's clone didn't wait for a response. He broke Cain's limbs again, opened a gate, and dumped him into the snowy tundra of Ursus.
"Military patrol's just ahead. Enjoy your vacation."
With that, he disappeared.
"Suicide within a week… what a shame."
Somewhere in a luxurious Columbia villa, Daniel's clone muttered as he sat in a refined study.
Before him, Cain was jolted awake from what he thought was a nightmare. He leapt up, checking his body. Nothing. He was fine. He sat down again, breathing heavily.
"Thought it was just a dream?"
That voice again. Cain shot up, and the masked man appeared before him.
"Don't bother calling your guards—they're all asleep."
Cain instinctively pressed a hidden alarm under his desk. Daniel only smiled.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
"I want this." Daniel stood up from the couch and placed a document on the desk.
"You… This is impossible!" Cain exclaimed.
"Nothing is impossible. You have two choices: sign it, or I'll put you through the infection nightmare again—for real this time. And I'll personally deliver you to a nice Ursus mine."
Of course, everything Cain had experienced was fake—an illusion created with Feather Dust.
Daniel may have found Cain's treatment of the Infected disgusting, but spending time with Amiya had left an impact. Forcing someone to contract Oripathy? That was beneath him.
But thanks to Feather Dust, the psychological effect was indistinguishable from reality. Cain would have absolutely died in that illusion.
"You…"
Cain's expression contorted with terror. That false memory of being Infected had scarred him deeply.
"Who are you, really? I don't think I've wronged you personally."
"Wronged me? You've turned my Kazimierz into this mess and think that doesn't affect me?"
"My Kazimierz?" Cain was stunned.
"Well, since you're about to die, I might as well enlighten you a bit. Ever heard of the Immortals?" Daniel's clone said with a smirk.
Of course, that was total nonsense—just part of the act. He had no idea whether Kazimierz even had Immortals. But it served his purpose.
"Immortals?"
"That's right. I built Kazimierz myself. Never expected that a single nap would turn it into this cesspool. Now do you understand why I'm here? Not just you—every member of the Commercial Union will answer to me."
He tapped the document. "Now then. Sign it."
"Sir… I didn't know… If you've truly returned, the Union will obey your will."
"Oh, now you're begging? Too late. You've got one minute. Sign and I'll give you a quick death. Refuse, and you'll become an Infected for real—and I'll personally send you to an Ursus mine."
"Haha, really? You'd rather keep your money than your life?"
Daniel pulled out a document already signed by Cain. "You think I needed your permission? Please. I just wanted to toy with you."
He raised his left hand—a hand crossbow materialized—and loosed four bolts straight into Cain's chest.
"Rose Paper shares: secured."
...
"So, you were waiting for us."
In a small park in Kawalerielki, Daniel sat calmly on a bench reading the newspaper as three figures approached.
"Platinum. Two Aurum. Took you long enough—I was getting bored. Don't tell me your Ferrum's hiding somewhere, aiming one of those fancy ballista bolts at me?"
He had chosen this park on purpose. A fight here wouldn't cause widespread collateral damage.
The Unarmored Union had an amusing hierarchy. Most organizations are structured like pyramids—fewer people at the top. But the Unarmored Union was a bizarre inverse pyramid.
At the top: three Ferrum.
In the middle: two Aurum.
At the bottom: one Platinum.
All of this supposedly to prevent rebellion from below. A uniquely twisted logic.
He had seen many assassin organizations—like Luo Wang, Liu Sha, Shadow Guards, or CP units in the pirate world—but none structured like this.
It was pure exploitation. No wonder Platinum always needed "personal leave"—she was overworked and underpaid. And sending her with three teams against a squad of Silverlance Pegasi? A suicide mission.
"You know quite a lot."
The voice came from the male Aurum's comms unit—not his mouth. Only Ferrum could summon both Aurum and Platinum to a meeting.
"Of course. If I'm going to eliminate the Unarmored Union, I have to do my research."
Originally, the Unarmored had fought against the knight class during Kazimierz's fall. But now they were just tools of the Commercial Union.
Daniel had also learned about the weapon used to ambush Nightingale—it wasn't fired manually. No human could launch such a bolt over that distance.
Not even the Patriot could do it. Ferrum didn't have superhuman strength—they used gear.
"So, you want to eliminate the Unarmored. I suppose there's no point talking, then."
Ferrum's tone was regretful. He had hoped to speak with Daniel. He was especially curious how Daniel had managed to turn an entire Unarmored squad. The fact only the three officers were here—with no regular agents—was telling.
If a whole squad defected, it couldn't be that they were all undercover. It had to be some unknown Originium Art.
Still, most Arts require a line of sight. So as far as Ferrum was concerned, he was safe. If the Aurum and Platinum got caught in the crossfire? That was acceptable.
In the Union's view, as long as the three Ferrum survived, the organization would endure. Aurum and Platinum? Expendable.
Truly, laziness ran deep in the Union. No wonder everyone down the chain was slacking.
"Didn't want to fight… but orders are orders. Sorry."
Roy, the male Aurum, didn't like this. Unknown enemies like Daniel were the worst. He had survived in the Union for over a decade by avoiding unnecessary risk.
If someone like him had been on that infamous park bench scene, he might've just run.
But this time, he couldn't. These were Ferrum's direct orders.
"Not bad speed."
As three arrows slammed into the ground before him, Daniel didn't even glance at the shocked Aurum and Platinum. His gaze turned upward.
There, like a falling star, came a massive ballista bolt—nearly three meters long—hurtling toward him.
______
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