Rumble—
The iron gate slowly rose, revealing a towering, muscular man blocking the entrance.
His hawk-like gaze quickly scanned the passageway, and after confirming it was safe, he stepped aside to allow passage through the narrow entry.
"One at a time," he grunted.
The trio passed through the gate, and a scene starkly different from before hit Erza and Kagura like a tidal wave.
Bright! Luxurious!
A massive chandelier cast soft light across the entire space.
The rich aroma of gourmet food and fine wine was so thick it felt almost tangible. Kagura couldn't help but swallow hard at the scent.
As far as the eye could see, a long table draped in snow-white cloth was laden with sizzling roasts, delicate desserts, and glasses of red wine that shimmered enticingly. Every dish gave off a mouthwatering fragrance.
Well-dressed men and women, faces beaming with smiles, wove between the tables, eagerly selecting their food.
Before Erza and Kagura could fully process the scene, a man with a burger in his left hand, his mouth glistening with grease, sidled up to Roger. He slapped Roger's back with a grin, his oily hand lingering on his shoulder.
"Well, well, Kasson! Scored some prime 'candy' again, huh?" he said, bits of food spraying from his mouth. "Need your ol' pal to escort them to the basement?"
Roger smiled and nodded. "Sure thing, thanks for the help, Lord Karl."
Karl froze. He'd only been joking, not expecting Roger to actually agree!
Escorting the "goods" together meant splitting the profits! Was this kid out of his mind?
"I've actually got a little favor to ask, Lord Karl," Roger's voice cut through his thoughts. "Wanna talk while we walk?"
A favor, huh? Karl's suspicions vanished, replaced by a smug grin. He slapped his chest confidently, lowering his voice as they walked.
"You came to the right guy! I'm the most reliable one in this whole base. That drunkard Allen? All he's good for is guzzling booze—useless when it counts. Hans might be strong, but he's a stick-in-the-mud, only listens to the boss, and guards that gate like everyone owes him money."
Karl's steps slowed, and his face took on a reluctant expression. "But, well… reliable as I am, my magic power…" He sighed dramatically. "It's limited, you know? Plus, I just made a deal with a dark guild recently…"
His words trailed off.
Roger got the hint: Pay up.
But Karl's little speech also confirmed something for Roger—his illusion magic came with the bonus ability to glimpse memories.
When he'd used illusion magic on Kasson earlier, not only did he get verbal information, but fragments of Kasson's memories had appeared in his mind.
Among them was the fact that Karl loved money. He often used his status as a mage to intimidate or scam others, forcing them to pay extra fees—a parasite who bullied others with his mage title.
After some careful thought, Roger put on a pained expression. "Alright, fine. You can have half the money this time."
At those words, Karl's face lit up with righteous determination. He quickened his pace, as if afraid Roger might change his mind.
"Don't worry, my magic's low, but I'll give it my all to help you out."
"The basement's just up ahead. Drop off the 'candy,' and then you can tell me all about your problem."
They hurried to the basement entrance and handed the three "children" to the guard.
Seeing the "500,000" added next to his name on the ledger, Karl felt a weight lift off his chest.
This windfall was too easy—easy enough to make him want to laugh out loud. As for helping Roger? He smirked. The money was already his. He'd just half-ass the job, act like it was impossible, and Roger wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.
"Lord Karl?"
Hearing the familiar voice, Karl instinctively turned his head, locking eyes with Kasson.
The moment their gazes met, a strange purple glow flashed deep in Karl's pupils.
His eyelids grew heavy, his head foggy, like it was filled with lead. He clutched his forehead, his eyes dulling rapidly.
Karl shook his head hard, trying to shake off the sensation, but the violent motion only made it worse.
When he opened his eyes again, they were lifeless.
"Lord Karl? Too much to drink, head hurting?" Roger asked with feigned concern.
Karl nodded stiffly, his voice raspy. "Head… hurts… going back to rest… Kasson… come find me later…"
With that, he stumbled off, his steps unsteady.
Roger followed, his face full of "worry."
Behind them, one of the guards scoffed. "Another idiot fell for it! That's the third one this month! Protection fees, commission fees, hush money… everyone's fed up with him. They'd love to see him drop dead!"
Another guard patted his shoulder. "Keep it down! If he hears you, you'll be the next one in trouble."
Meanwhile, Roger, trailing not far behind Karl, soon arrived at a door adorned with a gold coin emblem. He pushed it open slowly and saw Karl standing rigidly in the center of the room, his eyes vacant.
"Illusion magic is even more useful than I thought," Roger murmured.
A flash of white light appeared in his right hand, and a silver longsword materialized.
"When someone's caught up in joy or excitement, even a C-rank mage's guard drops to rock bottom."
"Add in the celebratory banquet and a familiar environment, and illusion magic has a hundred percent hit rate."
He glanced at Karl's blank face. "Didn't expect him to be so happy, though. His body and mind were completely relaxed, and the illusion magic trapped his thoughts deep in his subconscious, locked in a dream he'll never wake from."
"His body's in a hypnotic state now, like a marionette I can control with ease."
Roger extended his hand, palm inward, and curled his fingers slightly.
As if pulled by invisible strings, Karl's feet dragged in stiff arcs, moving step by step toward Roger.
Roger raised his sword, aiming the tip at Karl.
Shunk.
The dull sound of metal piercing flesh echoed as Karl's chest met the sword's tip. As if oblivious to pain, he pressed forward.
Only when the cold hilt touched his chest did Karl's forward momentum stop. His body went limp, hanging on the sword like a lifeless slab of meat.
[Ding! Enemy defeated. Gained 500 magic power points.]
[Ding! Gained 5 small magic recovery potions.]
[Ding! Gained Sad Onion.]
[Sad Onion: When cut, it causes everyone within a 10-meter radius to feel intense sorrow and cry uncontrollably. The closer to the onion, the deeper the sadness.]
[Note: Eating the onion's leaves grants immunity to the sadness.]
[Evaluation: The antidote is right next to the poison.]
"It dropped an item?"
Roger pulled a purple-skinned onion with two green leaves sprouting from its top out of his inventory.
"…?"
"Why do these leaves… look so much like the ones on the village chief's head?"
After a moment of hesitation, he put the onion back in his inventory and aimed his hand at the corpse.
[Ding! Used Gather.]
[Gained 200,000 J.]
Roger: …
"This guy was so broke, all he had was money."