Lennok’s response was a wordless gesture, prompting Manson to release a heavy sigh.
[Sigh… This is why engaging with self-righteous individuals is exhausting. Such a futile waste of time.]
“Let’s finish this swiftly.”
[Agreed. I’m done as well. I’ll simply take your face and leave. They’ll understand and deal with it… huh!!!]
Screeeeaaak!!!
As if everything before had been a deceit.
Manson’s hand transformed a blade into a beam of light, precisely aiming for Lennok’s neck and firing.
The grayish gas dispersed as the vial shattered.
A swift and unmistakable strike found its mark in the midst of Lennok’s waning magic.
Despite its unpredictable bending and stretching, the blade paradoxically accelerated, becoming even faster, as it aimed for Lennok’s carotid artery—a sword strike embodying contradictions in a single moment.
Kaang!!!
Once again, it futilely rebounded off the shield.
[…………..!!]
The gas unleashed by Manson had indeed proven effective.
Believing that Lennok was no longer sustaining his mana, Manson hesitated and stumbled.
[No, how…?]
Lennok retorted.
“If the method involves disrupting the structural properties of magic and dismantling its structure, then one simply needs to rearrange the magic accordingly.”
Lennok’s words sounded simple, but the solution was immensely complex, akin to continually painting the same picture while adjusting to the ever-changing size of the brush.
Considering that the structure of magic is far more intricate and complex than a mere painting.
Yet, Lennok captured every movement of the shifting mana in real-time, reassembling it with each passing moment, effortlessly wielding magic.
An shock spell struck Manson, who hadn’t fully grasped Lennok’s incredible coordination ability.
Kwaaaaang!!!
[Gahh!!]
Manson writhed as if an invisible hand had seized him by the hair.
Lennok seized the opportunity and conjured two gravity whips to lash out, but even while pinned to the ground, Manson swiftly reacted.
He knew from experience that once his feet were ensnared, the game would be over.
Rolling across the ground, he kicked it with the arch of his foot, propelling his body sideways.
Simultaneously, he lodged his sword into the ground, maintaining balance while executing a full turn, precisely as Manson’s foot touched the floor.
Once again, he vanished from Lennok’s line of sight.
Screeeeaaak!!!
This time, it was not the sword that moved first but Manson’s body.
He shifted his center of gravity as if gravity itself had no hold on him, traversing the narrow sewer passage.
Executing high-angle maneuvers that made it nearly impossible to discern his position or direction.
Not only did he aim to confound Lennok’s senses and rob him of sight.
Within the confined underground space.
Having acknowledged that employing high-powered spells in such a location was challenging, he persistently forced Lennok to make choices, rendering it arduous for him to take on such risks.
The fact that he performed these maneuvers in the damp and dark sewer served as a testament to Manson’s exceptional warrior skills.
Whizzzz!!!
A swift and chilling attack surged forth like an icy gust of wind.
At the climax of his swift maneuver, akin to swinging his body like a sword, Manson found himself standing behind Lennok.
In an instant, he unleashed a slashing attack, diagonally drawn as he took a step forward.
The blade held an overwhelming power, its fiery form making it nearly impossible to gauge its true force.
Lennok, with a calm gaze, turned his head at the last moment, devoid of any bewilderment.
Snap!
Simultaneously with the snap of his fingers, Manson’s leg slid as if treading upon an unseen icy path, causing the blade to pierce through the air like a mirage.
“Damn it…!”
An expletive burst from Manson’s lips as he realized that the once frozen floor of the sewer had thawed, transforming into a pooling body of water.
Lennok looked down upon him, eyes filled with joy, while Manson’s initial composure crumbled, perpetually taken aback by the unforeseen circumstances.
Had he mentioned earlier how satisfying it would be to behead a defiant bastard until the end?
Lennok relished in observing Manson squirming, gasping for breath, and struggling to utter his final words.
Naturally, Manson had no luxury to ponder such a predicament.
Yet, even though Lennok knew nothing of swordsmanship, he couldn’t help but instinctively admire Manson’s control as he somehow regained his balance and wielded the swaying blade, aiming above Lennok’s head.
“It’s already too late.”
Suddenly, the shotgun in Lennok’s hands erupted in flames, obliterating everything in its path.
[Recoil control.]
[Stacked shot.]
Roar!!
The modified shotgun, pushed to the limits of its durability through Palmer’s modifications, unleashed two colossal flames from its barrel, penetrating Manson’s left shoulder as if propelled by a mighty force.
Manson, who had exerted all his strength in the blade thrust, didn’t react at all to Lennok’s final maneuver.
[Ah, AAAAAAAH!!!]
Once set in motion, it couldn’t be halted.
All of Manson’s efforts to strike with the blade, slipping and sliding off continually, suddenly became futile.
Manson’s body was sent hurtling back, flying a good ten meters before plunging into the water.
Splash!!
As Manson’s body vanished into the depths with a tremendous splash, Lennok holstered his shotgun.
“Phew…….”
Had he finally rid himself of the nuisance?
At the very least, there would be no further interference in acquiring the pillar for the time being.
For someone who had only recently begun to master enchantment magic, such a firearm would suffice.
A common magic.
Among them, by employing lightweight and reduction magic, which were relatively bulky in size, one could possess a close-range firepower weapon that balanced portability and convenience, ready to be utilized at any given moment.
Lennok had long fantasized about bridging this gap by utilizing magic in such a way, and now, he had finally succeeded in bringing a portion of that imagination to life.
Not only shotguns but an array of firearms, auxiliary equipment, long-range weapons, and consumables could be individually equipped, potentially overcoming the fatal mobility disadvantage with overwhelming combat utility.
The mere thought of it filled Lennok’s chest with a profound sense of fulfillment.
With these musings in mind, Lennok continued onward, lifting the floating pillar from the air. He pulled out his phone and quickly sent a brief message to the contact of the agent, whom he had received beforehand. Then, he hastily climbed the ladder leading out of the sewer.
[By the way, there was something I forgot to ask you.]
It was at that moment when Manson’s voice echoed from a distance.
Though Lennok was not particularly skilled in physical combat, the shotgun blast had not only completely shattered his left shoulder but also half-crushed the canister he had been carrying around his neck.
He hadn’t simply resigned himself to being swept away by the rushing water.
It wasn’t a matter of life or death. The strike was undoubtedly lethal for most superhumans.
But the fact that Manson was sending him a message like this… Lennok supposed it was only natural to assume that Manson, being a renowned freelancer, had prepared some means of survival.
In the meantime, Manson continued speaking.
[What’s your name? I should know the name of someone as skilled as you.]
“Van,” came Lennok’s subdued response, causing Manson, who had been silent until then, to emit a sardonic chuckle.
[…I see. I’ve heard of you. Heh heh heh…]
[Judging by the circumstances, it seems we’re both tangled up in the same business. Perhaps we’ll meet again soon.]
“Is that so?”
[Today’s encounter was quite enjoyable. I’ll dress up nicely for our next meeting. I’m looking forward to it.]
Boom!!
To be shot by a shotgun and still promise a next encounter—truly monstrous.
Manson’s voice, revealing an ambition that was difficult to fathom, was drowned out by the roaring sound of water flowing in the canal.
Lennok exhaled a sigh and swiftly made his way out of the sewer.
Mad Manson. A formidable swordsman and a cunning freelancer.
Merely based on his swordsmanship, it was evident that Manson hadn’t displayed the full extent of his abilities today.
However, it was Lennok who emerged from the confrontation on his own two feet, while Manson, who had been humming a tune just eight minutes ago, now found himself submerged underwater.
Finding proof of victory was not challenging.
Manson knew all too well that this narrow sewer passage was a relatively unfavorable environment for a wizard.
Convinced that broad spells and high-powered magic could easily backfire in such a confined space, Manson had attempted to pressure Lennok by leveraging the environment to his advantage. And to some extent, that attempt may have felt partially successful.
The gas spray would never be effective in an expansive area. Three-dimensional maneuvers to block attacks.
An ordinary wizard would have crumbled when their mana failed, losing track of Manson’s movements and fleeing from a single strike.
However, Lennok melted the ice where he intended to land, set a trap, evaded the sword attack, and finished the battle by firing the shotgun.
His mental strength and judgment were formidable, catching the opponent off guard and engaging in a real-time psychological war without yielding an inch.
And his innate talent for magic perfectly complemented his abilities.
Time, environment, situation, and opponents held little significance.
The crucial factor was solely the choice of judgment required to seize victory in that moment.
In that sense, the battle with Mad Manson served as a suitable reminder for Lennok to reclaim the combat senses he had neglected.
“Next time, it won’t end like this.”
If the Reisen faction had indeed hired Mad Manson, they were unlikely to settle for such a resolution.
Lennok anticipated enduring further diverse interruptions and checks in the execution of their strategy.
Though contemplating it appeared complicated and challenging, Lennok remained unfazed.
The incredible artifact known as the Five Fingers of Enakphil always provided him with some leeway, even when exerting his full power.
High-dimensional teleportation magic.
The fact that such an invaluable resource was contained within a small item like a pencil attested to its astounding nature, and Lennok was well aware of its limitless applications.
Lennok, better than anyone, knew when to employ unpredictable variables that confounded the opponent’s predictions.
Of course, enduring the toll on the body from the side effects of the burning smoke was inevitable…
If he couldn’t endure that, he couldn’t advance from this point onward.
On occasion, when the body groaned, there was no choice but to rely on the power of an elixir.
‘…Perhaps I should inquire with Evelyn if she can procure a similar item.’
As an agent, she should have access to various valuable commodities circulating through the City Government.
With such thoughts, Lennok pressed forward against the gusty wind sweeping through the 55th District.
⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩
[Our staff greatly appreciates your assistance.]
The voice came through a large speaker situated beyond the hologram.
Jenny’s bar. The office upstairs.
Lennok and Jenny occupied the formal space, reserved solely for official purposes, facing Evelyn’s holographic projection.
[Thanks to Van, our workload has increased significantly. They wanted me to express their gratitude.]
Her tone remained as flat as ever.
It was challenging to discern her expression, making it difficult to gauge the sincerity behind her words.
Lennok wasn’t the only one who felt that way—Jenny, silently listening to Evelyn’s words, frowned deeply.
She forcefully stubbed her long cigarette onto the desk.
“Agent, could you please get straight to the point?”
At Jenny’s impatient retort, Evelyn nodded with an impassive expression.
