Backlund, East Borough, in a house belonging to the Zimang Party.
"Mister Gabriel."
A man dressed in worker's overalls spoke up. "Three days have passed. I think we can proceed with our operation."
The man's appearance showed clear Southern Continent highland characteristics: dark skin and deep-set eyes.
Though dressed like a worker, he exuded an undisguised aura of ferocity.
He also seemed unfamiliar with the Northern Continent's language, his Intis coming out stiff and wooden.
"No need to rush."
Opposite him, the man who had been savoring his coffee immediately frowned and replied with casual dismissiveness.
What a vulgar barbarian. Our beautiful, elegant language being used by him is practically a desecration...
The man named Gabriel thought to himself.
"But His Excellency the Ambassador said..."
"Stop. Just speak to me in Loenese."
The highland man was interrupted by Gabriel.
A flash of displeasure crossed his eyes, but he still switched to equally awkwardly-accented Loenese:
"His Excellency the Ambassador said he's only giving us one month. We don't have much time."
"Singh, are you taking me for a fool?"
Gabriel raised his head and glanced at this greedy, cunning highlander.
"What His Excellency said was for you to regain control of the Zimang Party and become one of Backlund's underground forces.
He didn't require you to occupy much territory. You're rushing to act now purely to expand your own power. Don't think I haven't noticed."
"Singh, I'm warning you.
His Excellency can grant you potions and make you a Beyonder to control the Zimang Party, but he can also kick you out at any time and take back the characteristics... Don't try to play games with us.
It won't benefit you."
As if struck by his words, Singh, the new boss of the Zimang Party sitting across from him, settled down somewhat.
How troublesome...
Seeing this, Gabriel sighed inwardly, feeling quite emotional.
Life was unpredictable.
He should have been in the sun-drenched, passionate land of the Sun having heart-to-heart talks with young ladies, not in cold, gloomy, fog-shrouded Backlund playing political games with a stinking man.
The Ambassador... it was all the fault of the new Intis Ambassador to Loen, who had brought him to Backlund with a single transfer order.
His main task now was to assist this savage, cunning highlander in regaining control of the Zimang Party, making this gang once again a lower-level organization for Intis intelligence services.
In short, not a pleasant job.
"Mister Gabriel, even if you won't allow us to take action, surely you can at least use your abilities to analyze the situation?"
After staying quiet for barely a moment, Singh spoke again. "I believe our interests are aligned.
If my power expands, His Excellency the Ambassador will recognize your achievements and give you a higher evaluation, won't he?"
This time, Gabriel hesitated slightly.
The Ambassador did mention that if I produce results, I can return home early...
"Fine."
He ultimately agreed, taking out a pendulum from his coat pocket—a pure silver chain with a transparent blue gem hanging below.
Seeing his action, Singh tactfully retrieved a pile of items from the safe: intelligence and materials on that gang, as well as some personal belongings.
"What do you want to know?"
Gabriel took the items and placed them on the table, simultaneously taking out paper and pen.
As a Sequence 9 Seer, he could divine through mystical connections to obtain unknown information.
It was precisely with his assistance, along with the combat prowess of Singh who had also consumed the Sequence 9 "Hunter" potion, that the Zimang Party had been able to rise again in such a short time and become a respectable underground force in the East Borough once more.
"Please divine the personnel arrangements of the Reman Gang for me."
Singh quickly said.
Based on personnel distribution, corresponding attack plans could be formulated.
He wasn't as reckless as the previous boss Moerso, who only relied on brute force to push through, ultimately provoking someone unknown and disappearing without a trace.
"Personnel distribution..."
Gabriel wrote down the corresponding divination statement, silently recited it seven times, then sank into a dream state, but awakened quickly and rapidly sketched on a blank sheet of paper.
Singh watched from the side, his face showing a strange expression.
"So scattered... They look completely unprepared.
Don't they think that after I reclaim my territory, I'll launch attacks?"
He had some understanding of the Reman Gang's leader too. Like himself, the guy had brains and shouldn't fail to understand such basic logic, right?
"Something's not right."
Singh said with slight unease in his heart. "Mister Gabriel, please continue divining to see what their leader Silas is doing."
Gabriel divined as requested.
Soon, he woke from the dream state, his expression somewhat puzzled. Meeting Singh's inquiring gaze, he said doubtfully, "I saw... he seems to be doing charity?"
Through dream divination, Gabriel saw that charles had been very busy recently, gathering homeless wanderers, providing them with food and shelter.
His gang members were also helping out, making it seem like they weren't a gang at all, but some kind of charitable organization.
"Impossible! They were no different from other gangs before! There must be some deeper reason!"
Gabriel was getting worked up.
As a "Seer," his divinations were generally very accurate, occasionally ambiguous, but this was the first time he'd encountered something so strange.
Without waiting for Singh to say anything more, Gabriel hastily wrote down another divination statement:
"The reason for charles's sudden change in temperament."
After silently reciting the divination statement seven times, his body leaned back, and using his spirituality's connection with the spirit world, he directly entered a dream state.
The hazy dream slowly unfolded before him, like layers of mist forming images.
Through the images, he saw that beside Silas, at some unknown point, stood a silent shadow.
That figure was blurry and indistinct.
He could only see that the figure wore a crimson robe, its color bright and fresh, like freshly splattered blood.
No, looking more carefully, on the red surface floated countless agonized faces of the dead. They were wailing, struggling...
Suddenly, as if sensing something, the figure looked toward him, and golden light flashed.
"Ahhhh!"
Gabriel let out a high-pitched, terrified scream. With a "bang," his eyeballs exploded.
"Mister Gabriel?!"
Singh cried out in shock, but Gabriel could no longer answer. Clutching his blood-drenched face, he rolled on the ground, screaming.
"He saw me!"
Gabriel shouted in terror. "He's coming! Help! I can't escape!"
"Mister Gabriel, what are you talking about... You've gone mad!"
Singh was startled and abruptly pulled away from him.
Because Gabriel had suddenly drawn his revolver from his waist.
This Beyonder who could divine the future and usually appeared superior to others now had both eyes turned into bloody holes.
"So crazy, so painful... I don't want to know... I don't want to bear this..."
He said in terror and despair, pressing the gun barrel under his chin, then pulling the trigger without hesitation.