Level Up Legacy

The night was just setting when Arthur started to follow the traces of the gangsters. His rune, Track, which he wrote using Reality Manipulation, showed him all mana traces, smells, and heat.

This was a rune that he had to improvise on the spot, as he connected the runic lines on a whim. Therefore, it was not as stable and showed him all the remaining traces of people that had passed here today.

“How do I specify a certain time?” muttered Arthur, but he had no idea. Another rune would be needed to do that, instead of a single runic line. His current rune consisted of five sublines:

–  Detect ­– mana.

–  Detect – scent.

–  Detect – enthalpy.

–  Visualize.

The last line connected the other four, allowing Arthur to see those changes but no one else. However, adding another line would make the rune more advanced, making Arthur unable to do it.

Most runes were the same. The suffix after the runes, like IV, or V, referred to the number of lines Arthur used. Each line was different, as they could create, detect, change, time, reorganize, etc. If runes were words, then the runic lines were the letters Arthur used to conjure those words. It was the same as using magical symbols to achieve the desired effect.

Arthur could use four lines so far, and any more of that would be commanding too many symbols simultaneously, making him turn into runes because of losing the line separating him from the runic world.

Arthur had to assume that the more recent a change was, the more traces there would be. Therefore, he followed the biggest tracks, leading him back toward the Copper District, where his inn was.

Although he had to uncover the whereabouts of Little Yin, Arthur was in no hurry. This task was a minor one, to begin with, so he had some leeway with the schedule or the process. His primary mission here was to free Ivy, but as Rain and Lyle told him, no one knew where the Prison of Light was except for the emperor.

The tracks led him straight toward the outskirts of the copper district, entering a seedy-looking bar. Arthur stared at the bar’s name and was sure it belonged to the mohawk guy, as the sign read Hawkeyes.

“I guess I’m at the right spot,” muttered Arthur before he heard chattering from the end of the street, where a knight patrol was. He hurried to go inside since he had no identification medal on him.

Ting-a-ling!

As the swinging door closed after Arthur, the bells rang through the dark bar. His eyes were outside, watching the knights walk further down the streets.

“We are closed at the moment,” said a voice from inside the bar, compelling Arthur to turn toward the counter. “I would have served you a drink, but we have a bit of a situation.”

A young man was standing behind the counter, tending to the crossbow woman that Arthur almost killed. They were facing away from him, making her unable to see him. However, she seemed unresponsive to the young man.

“Is everything alright?” asked Arthur as he walked between the empty tables, making the wooden tiles creak.

“Please leave, as I can take care of it on my own,” said the young man before turning toward him. He had a set of clean glasses and a ginger-colored head. Yet, despite knowing he was a gangster, Arthur saw some intelligence in the set of ruby eyes.

“I have some questions about a friend I met earlier, mohawk,” said Arthur as he made his way to the bar. The woman flinched as his voice grew closer, but she didn’t seem to react otherwise. “Do you happen to know where he is or the rest of Mansell Gang?”

“…this is Mansell Gang,” said the man with the same expression. “I see you are familiar with our name and leader, so should we take this talk elsewhere?”

“I’m not here to fight,” said Arthur with a shake of his head as he stopped at the bar. “At least, not some low-level foot soldiers. I want to know where I can find the boss.”

“That is enough reason to fight you, outlander,” said the young man before he placed a small flashlight on the counter, which he used to examine the woman’s eyes. “You must be the one who did this to her.”

“I would disagree and say she did this to herself.”

“Disagreement is always the reason for conflict,” said the young man before he walked toward the table and raised his arm above his head. Then, he grabbed a bottle from the shelve behind him and placed it on the counter. “How about a drink to relax?”

“Not a fan of being poisoned,” said Arthur with a smile. The man amused him before him because even when faced with danger, he showed no fear. “You seem oddly calm.”

“A gang member needs always to be calm,” said the young man as he opened the bottle while taking out two glasses from underneath the counter and placing one in front of Arthur. “I promise it isn’t poisoned and the best drink you will ever taste.”

“Would you believe a thief when he says he won’t steal?” asked Arthur with interest as he saw the man pour two glasses for them and push one toward him. “I never knew a bartender drinks with his customers.”

“On special occasions,” said the bartender as he raised his glass toward Arthur. “Drink with me, and I will tell you where you can find the boss.”

Arthur stared at the bartender with doubt. This man didn’t strike him as a liar or a con man. On the contrary, he was calm and collected, as if he had nothing to fear, even when faced with the enemy. If not for their non-existent relationship, Arthur would have assumed the two of them were friends.

“I would have to refuse,” said Arthur as he pushed the glass back, and the man lowered his. “Tell me where the mansion is, and there will be no need for a fight.”

“Deal, but you have to help my friend over here,” said the bartender as he pointed at the girl. Arthur glanced over her, nodded, walked around the counter, and crouched in front of her.

“Forget,” whispered Arthur beside her ear, and the woman seemed dazed. But then, he rose, and the woman seemed to have just woken up.

“What am I doing here?” she said with a thick Iliosian accent, confused as she looked around. “Bartender, where are the rest?” she asked as soon as she saw him.

“Everyone returned home,” said the bartender with surprise but quick adaptability. “You should go home as well since the night is here. I will close the bar once the leader comes back.”

“…alright,” said the woman before she glanced at Arthur and walked past him. She still seemed dazed as she pushed the swinging door open and left the bar.

“Marvelous,” said the bartender with a nervous smile. “How did you do that?”

“I undid what I did,” said Arthur in a vague manner. “Now, hold your end of the bargain. Tell me where I can find the boss of Mansell.”

“Cross the south bridge, going into the Silver District. It should be the second mansion you come across, with two tigers on each side of its gates.”

“If you are lying, this won’t end well.”

“I have no reason to lie. If you are strong enough to take down our gang, I would be just delaying the inevitable. If you are weak, then they will take care of you.”

“A reasonable mind,” admitted Arthur before he turned to leave, his cloak sliding past the chairs.

“You seem like a man with a goal in mind,” said the bartender behind him, making Arthur stop. “I want to know why you are getting involved with this gang.”

“Injustice.”

“You don’t seem like a selfless man.”

“Oh, I am selfless,” said Arthur as he turned around and grinned. “I am without a self, so that should be enough reason.”

Ting-a-ling!

The bartender stared at the swinging door and then sighed. He then stared at the drinks in the glass and raised his hand. The liquid began to rise and go back into the bottle before the lid followed and it was screwed shut.

“A waste,” muttered the man before he took out his phone, scrolled toward Hawk’s number, and stared at it quietly. “I should tell him to leave that place, at least. I doubt this night will pass peacefully.”

Dial.

The bartender pressed, and the phone started ringing. At that moment, the door opened again, and the bartender raised his head. However, his expression froze as he got to see who it was.

“Hello? Did something happen?” asked Hawk over the phone, but the bartender’s face crumbled as the newcomer walked toward him. Then, he ended the call and placed the phone down.

“Long time no see, dear vessel,” said the figure who stood in front of the bartender. “Are we still following the plan?”