Chapter 40: Eyes on the Prize, Part 4

Ordinary people couldn't use any operators to cast spells because they lacked the necessary mana to fill them. But, under the same principles as the augmentations worn by others worked—mana fragments used as a source of energy—shouldn't it be possible for even the average person to manifest a brilliant spark of flames out of thin air?

That might not be the case. If such a product was as simple to develop as I imagined, it would have been released on the market by now. There was also the high cost and the limit on the number of SCOs a hunter could acquire to throw into the equation. If a hunter had such restraints, then I doubted there'd be an exception made for the rest.

Most importantly, who in their right mind would allow civilians access to an operator? They were as dangerous, if not more so than guns and explosives.

Hunters were only permitted to use their SCOs in public during incidents such as the Overflow. Otherwise, they'd be solely used to clear dungeons. If any unofficial usage of magic is discovered, the government will be forced to take appropriate action regarding the punishment of the hunter in question.

My expression darkened as I kept thinking further. So you're saying that I've just broken the law? Aside from illegally transporting an SCO, I willingly participated in an experiment to determine whether it was functional or not. Although I wasn't the one who used it, I was unquestionably an accomplice.

Only now did I realize I became a criminal. Worse yet, I was completely unaware of the fact that I was doing it. Perhaps that's what Ethan meant when he said, 'The Underworld changes you.'

A subtle process that you're not aware of until it becomes too late.

"What are you thinking about?" Jacob asked, which startled me. "Sorry if I disturbed your train of thought."

"It's alright," I informed him, taken aback by his consideration. "I have a tendency to overthink things."

"So do I," whispered the merchant, regaining control of himself. "Regardless of how bad your acting was, the facts remain. I can't deny that what you brought me is valuable. So, what do you want in return for bringing me this operator."

My brow twitched as I noticed the unnecessary insult he threw in there. "You're saying my acting was awful?"

"Of course it was," he said with a chuckle. "But you kept your cool, so I let you off the hook. I was just curious to see where our negotiation was heading, and I don't regret giving you the chance to get so far."

I didn't want to think about what would've happened if I had presented myself differently. Thank you for your advice, Ethan.

"This dagger," I declared as I tapped the glass, "I want it."

"I just got that recently," scoffed the merchant, acting as if I had stolen the food from his plate... No, maybe stealing the money from his wallet might be a better way to phrase it. I'm certain he's the type to skip a meal to save more. "I'm not going to give you that."

Bombed with his firm denial, I had no other choice but to press further, even if it meant ruining everything, "You said you liked my confidence. I want this dagger. It would be a shame if such a beautiful weapon rusted in here without ever being used."

Not that I intended to use it.

As he applauded, Jacob's frown faded into a grin forming underneath his neat mustache. "I liked that. A weapon is meant to be used, not admired. It would be an insult towards the fine craftsmanship that has been put into forging it."

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"Can I take I really take it?" I stumbled, unable to believe he agreed with me.

"Take this as well," Jacob muttered, pulling a sheath from the counter. Seeing my reluctant expression, he added, "There's no additional charge. It's on the house, in case you're wondering."

"You're well prepared."

As the merchant lifted the glass from the dagger, he pretended not to be aware of my compliment.

"What are you staring at?" asked the merchant, pointing the handle to me while holding the blade with his metallic fingers. "It's yours."

Without saying anything else, I slid the weapon into the sheath Jacob offered and put it into my jacket's inner pocket. Moving around will be difficult, but I should be fine as long as I paid attention. I'd rather be uncomfortable than risk losing it to someone else, so I reasoned as I yanked up the zipper of my jacket.

"You know... I wanted to keep that dagger as a trophy of sorts," he mumbled as he leaned on the counter, reminiscing about something I wasn't aware of, "but now I believe it would be for the best to give it to someone who will actually use it."

"My head..." grumbled the guard as he rested a hand on his forehead, still laying on the ground. "Feels like I've been hit by a cab."

"A train, you mean," barked Jacob, throwing one of his guard's muscular arms over his shoulder and helping him stand up. "I doubt a cab would do much for someone your size. Do you even fit in one of those things?"

Yeah, there was no way a cab could seriously injure someone like him, especially given the speed they usually travel at. If he were to channel some mana through his body, nothing serious would happen, I assumed.

"I'm about to puke," he burped, covering his mouth with his hand as his stomach tightened.

"Don't do it in the shop, though. I'm not going to mop your vomit."

As Jacob threw the guard into the backroom, I found myself staring at them. Despite being his employer, those two seemed to be getting along quite well.

"Hey," he said from behind as I was about to leave. "Feel free to come by if you ever get your hands on something as valuable as that bracelet. I can't promise I'll agree to your proposal, but I could at least listen to it."

His words seemed genuine, but the only response I could offer was the ringing of the bell behind me, signaling my departure. It was comforting to know that Jacob would most likely cooperate with me in the future if the need arose, but I'd rather never work with someone like him again.

Some things were better left unanswered.

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