The moment Chase asked for payment, Marshall's expression stiffened.
He was clearly troubled.
Of course he was he and the pirates had been in on it together. Why would he have actually prepared the commission reward in advance?
"Well, to be honest," Marshall muttered, scratching his head with a fake smile, "my payment is… all held by the Council..."
"In that case," Chase interrupted coldly, "I can't hand this man over just yet."
He stepped forward and placed himself between Clooney and Marshall, guarding the unconscious pirate like a shield.
"Please come with me."
Chase had already seen through Marshall's act. Whatever shady scheme this man was cooking up, it didn't matter.
As long as Clooney was turned over to the Council for questioning, the truth would come to light sooner or later.
Chase had faith in the Council's methods.
That was why he hadn't exposed Marshall on the spot. He didn't need to dive headfirst into this swamp. He was content watching from the sidelines.
As long as Marshall cooperated.
But of course, that was too much to ask.
"You damned pirate! Give me back the lives of my wife and children!!"
Just as Chase expected, Marshall snapped out of his momentary hesitation and threw himself into a dramatic frenzy.
He pulled a gleaming dagger from his waist and lunged at Clooney's chest, aiming to end him in one strike.
So it really was about silencing him.
But Chase was ready.
He stepped in without hesitation and drove his fist into Marshall's side.
Bang!
The sound of impact echoed like thunder in the empty lighthouse.
Marshall was flung backward, his body crashing hard against the concrete wall of the abandoned lighthouse with a heavy thud.
"This feeling…"
Chase narrowed his eyes, frowning.
Something was off.
According to what he'd gathered from Clooney, Marshall was supposedly a wizard one who had mastered magic from the Eighteen Battle Gods of Evil. Not top-tier, maybe, but definitely strong. Easily S-Class.
So why did his punch land so cleanly?
Why wasn't there any resistance?
Then Chase saw it.
Tiny white flickers of light flashed along Marshall's body.
In that moment, he understood.
This wasn't the real Marshall.
It was a projection some kind of spiritual clone or thought-body.
Chase scoffed lightly.
"You sure know how to play games, Mr. Marshall."
Marshall gritted his teeth, hands planted firmly on the ground as he struggled to sit up. His gaze locked onto Chase, trailing up the scar across his face.
"When did you figure it out?" he asked hoarsely.
That punch had come far too quickly, too decisively.
No ordinary wizard would strike a client that way not without certainty.
Chase casually clapped his hands together, then plopped down on top of Clooney like he was a chair.
Leaning back, he answered cheerfully.
"When? Probably when you oh-so-helpfully recommended I take that merchant ship out to sea."
He tilted his head and smiled.
"Let's be honest. Outside of a rigged setup, what kind of S-Class request guarantees that the accepting wizard runs into pirates and mysteriously disappears?"
"At first it was just a hunch. But during the fight, one of your idiot henchmen slipped up and mentioned Fairy Tail by name."
Marshall's face darkened. For a moment, his expression twisted, and a flash of murderous intent flared in his eyes.
"What a bunch of useless trash."
After cursing under his breath, Marshall looked up at Chase, his eyes dark and swirling with resentment.
"You really are something. Even Clooney couldn't handle you."
Chase gave a faint smile.
"Heh. Wizards from Fairy Tail aren't exactly easy targets."
The stronger Chase revealed himself to be, the more bitter and regretful Marshall became.
If only we had captured someone like him…With that kind of power, our plan could have succeeded so much faster!
Chase let the silence linger for a moment, then spoke again, voice calm but laced with meaning.
"Well, since I've been so generous and upfront, I'm sure Mr. Marshall won't mind answering a few of my questions and clearing up some of my confusion."
He raised a finger casually.
"For example… what's the goal behind all of this?"
"Where exactly are all the missing wizards?"
"And this 'new world ruled by God' what is that supposed to mean?"
At the last question, a flicker of pure killing intent surged in Marshall's eyes.
If looks could kill, Clooney would have been dead on the floor already.
He opened his mouth to reject the interrogation outright but something shifted.
A sinister thought crept into his mind.
Clooney will be interrogated eventually. Once the Council gets their hands on him, everything will be exposed… including where I really am now.
In that case...
Why not take a gamble? Capture Chase this powerful card wizard and let him fill the final piece of the puzzle!
Marshall let out a slow, chilling laugh.
"Haha… since you're asking so sincerely, I suppose I could "
"Never mind," Chase interrupted flatly.
"I'm not interested in your villain monologue."
He stood up, brushing off his pants.
"I'll just hand Clooney over to the Council and finish the job. Commission complete."
Chase could tell with one glance that the old bastard in front of him was holding back something dramatic probably another one of his grand speeches.
He rolled his eyes, turned around, hoisted Clooney over his shoulder, and casually started walking toward the exit of the lighthouse.
That's when Marshall suddenly panicked.
His voice rushed out in desperation.
"I am a descendant of the Evil Demon Clan! I've been capturing wizards to extract their massive magical power… to awaken the slumbering Eighteen Battle God Hollow Drum!"
Chase paused mid-step, one eyebrow twitching.
Descendant of an evil demon?
So that's why Clooney could use the magic of the Eighteen Battle Gods.
The Hollow Drum that name sounded familiar. He vaguely remembered something in the original texts… wasn't there something about a Battle Bond too?
Still...
What's that got to do with me?
Chase gave a mental shrug and kept walking.
"The return of the God of War will plunge all of Fiore into chaos!" Marshall shouted after him. "As a member of the Guild of Light, how can you turn your back on this?!"
Sorry, Chase thought, but that's the kind of thing the Fiore royal family and the Council should worry about. I'm not that patriotic.
I'm just trying to get my commission money, head back to the guild, and drink a nice cup of Mira's American-style coffee.
"If you have the guts," Marshall roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls, "come and stop me! I'll be waiting for you… at the Island of the Demonic Ruins, Chase Lin !!"
Chase froze.
Wait… what did he say?
The Island of the Demonic Ruins?!
Chase's expression changed in an instant.
It was subtle but clear.
Something about that name… The Island of the Demonic Ruins sparked a very bad feeling deep inside him.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, its warm orange glow stretched across the sea like a golden ribbon.
A soft breeze blew gently through the air, bringing a relaxed, dreamy atmosphere to a vibrant, lively island.
In the far corner of a shimmering beach, a small, makeshift photo shoot studio had been set up.
"Cool~! Whether it's Miss Mira as the villainous demon queen or Miss Dark Magician as the brave hero, both looks are absolutely stunning!"
"This photo set is flawless! It's going to be a huge hit in the next issue of Magic Weekly!"
The editor of Magic Weekly was practically bouncing in place, holding the freshly developed draft photos with both hands, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
This issue's theme?
"The Island of Ancient Ruins The Great Adventure of the Evil Demon and the Hero!"
It was meant to promote a new tourism project: an exotic island getaway funded by the Kingdom of Fiore.
Not far from the studio, beneath a large beach umbrella, Mira and the girl dressed as the Dark Magician were lounging comfortably after the shoot.
Their outfits were cute and summery, perfect for the tropical theme, and they sipped fruit juice as they chatted.
"Hey, Sister Mira," the girl asked, brushing her bangs aside after signing autographs for a few excited fans, "do monsters like evil gods really exist in our world?"
Her wide, sparkly eyes blinked curiously as she turned toward Mira, full of genuine wonder.
"Well, I'm not entirely sure about that," Mira replied gently.
Resting her chin on one hand, she tilted her head in thought, then gave a soft smile.
"But I think they probably do exist. I mean, creatures like dragons those ancient beings you encountered are real, aren't they?"
From their earlier chats with the editor of Magic Weekly, they had picked up some background information about the island beneath their feet The Island of Demonic Ruins.
Just two years ago, this place had been nothing more than a barren, uninhabited island off Fiore's coast.
That changed when a group of sea adventurers ventured deep into its jungle-covered interior. There, beneath layers of thick soil and tangled roots, they uncovered something astonishing
A massive skeleton.
An ancient demon god, fossilized beneath the surface.
The discovery caught the attention of Fiore's investors and capitalists almost immediately.
Basic infrastructure followed. Roads, lodging, lighting, tourism booths. With the introduction of themed merchandise and site tours, the island gradually transformed over just a year into a hot new destination for sightseeing, photography, and magical adventure tourism.
Its unique terrain, eerie ruins, and exotic aesthetic quickly made it a beloved "check-in" spot for tourists from across the kingdom.
To boost visibility, the Fiore Tourism Bureau commissioned Magic Weekly to do a feature shoot and increase the island's popularity.
And the adventurer who made it all possible?
His name was proudly engraved on a plaque at the entrance of the ruins.
Marshall Whitemore.
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