There were very few places Ji-ho liked, and the basement in Club Spiral wasn’t one of them. It smelled of drugs, had the quietness of desolation, and reminded him of days he wanted to completely forget.

  But he had no choice but to pay it a visit now. He was on the verge of speeding up his plans, and he had to figure out how much time he was left to work with.

  Ji-ho pushed open a door and the rhythmic sound of beeping came into his ears, followed by a bright white light, illuminating the room he walked into. A simple space, in truth. Barely had any furniture or design, just a simple desk to the side, bearing computers, a bench on the other side for visitors, and a pod in its center, bubbling with purple liquid, courtesy of the tubes connecting it to the stainless tank to the farthest edge of the room.

  “Ah. The great successor finally decided to pay a visit to the lower levels of his humble abode,” chirped a squat man in a lab coat seated before the desk of computers. He turned around to face Ji-ho, folding his arms, curly black hair seated out of place on his head.

  Ji-ho let his eyes linger on the man’s hair for a moment. “When are you going to give up on employing that wig, Dr. Edmond.”

  The man reddened. Few things annoyed the man, talking about his wig took about ninety percent of them.

  “I still don’t like you,” said Dr. Edmond. “I perhaps never will.” He turned around to face his computers once more, clacking away at its keyboard in a way Ji-ho couldn’t follow. He hadn’t been especially book smart. But he didn’t need to be any longer.

  Ji-ho strode to the pod and glanced into its transparent glass. Within the liquid lay a man’s body, frail and skinny thin. There were no signs of hair on his body, not even eyebrows or lashes were present, and he wasn’t breathing. Regardless, he wasn’t completely pale or decomposing. He was tethering on the boundary between life and death.

  “How long does he have?” Ji-ho asked.

  “How long did I mention last time?” Dr. Edmond replied, disdain tainting his tone.

  “Ten months,” Ji-ho replied. He was used to the doctor’s repugnance towards him, so it did nothing to change his mood or approach towards the conversation. “And almost half of that has passed. Now, I’m wondering if there has been a shortage of what he has left, or an increase. Answer me.”

  Dr. Edmond scoffed. “There has been no shortage or increase, successor. Stop slacking and get things done. You have about six months left.”

  Ji-ho sighed, turning away from the pod.

  Six months was enough time in hindsight, but there were a lot of elements in play that could hinder his progress to a great degree. The most important of those elements was the artifacts required to unleash the Cataclysm. He had no choice but to applaud Guildmaster Hyeonki for being able to hide such powerful things from the eyes of even those close to him. But enough was enough. He no longer had the time to dawdle, waiting patiently for the man to slip. They had to find the artifacts as soon as possible, even if they had to resort to extreme means.

  While the second was the boy, Merlin Tyrrell.

  Merlin fascinated Ji-ho. There were a few things he had found out about the boy now that made him even more interested than he had already been. Besides the fact that the boy could use anti-magic, he had also learnt that the boy’s mana had increased from the abysmally low pool of that of a Deficient Mage’s to the one of a C-Class Mage’s. It was weird, and outright impossible. A Deficient Mage that could use a form of magic never seen before, and, not only that, could grow his mana up to the point that he might eventually be able to cast actual magic. It was something that was equivalent to a miracle.

  Ji-ho glanced at Dr. Edmond.

  If he mentioned his findings to the doctor, the man would run mad requesting for the boy to be brought to him for tests. His life’s work was all about finding out how to turn a Deficient Mage into a being even more powerful than S-Class Mages. He had failed countless times in the past, and even though he had finally found his breakthrough a while back, the existence of Merlin wasn’t something he would glance over. The boy was the perfect guinea pig for him.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Ji-ho clenched his fist.

  But that wasn’t his plan for the boy. Merlin was an asset to Ji-ho. One who could bring the balance he had been seeking for quite some time now, and he would not let anyone cut him in half for a lab experiment.

  “Prestige Academy is hosting an inter-academy tournament,” said Ji-ho.

  “And?” Dr. Edmond glanced over his shoulder. “What does that have to do with me, and why should I care?”

  Ji-ho walked to the door, pulling it open. “No reason,” he said. “Just that I’ll be attending.”

  Dr. Edmond’s brows twitched. “Have you lost your mind?” he retorted. “Did you not just hear what I said? You only have six months left until we lose the master forever.”

  “Do your job and keep him alive for as long as you can,” Ji-ho replied. “I will do mine.”

  Dr. Edmond’s growl of frustration was the last thing Ji-ho heard before he slammed the door to the room shut. Then he found himself staring at Mouse, who was leaning on the wall across from him.

  “Is there a problem?” Ji-ho asked, turning away and walking down the hallway towards the elevator.

  Mouse followed behind him, the clacks of her heels echoing through the silence. “That’s my question to you,” she said.

  Ji-ho hummed. “My attending the tournament?”

  “You’re sharp on the uptake. That’s why I like you.”

  “It was not that hard to figure out.” Ji-ho sighed and pushed the button of the elevator. Its doors slid open with a ding, and he walked in, Mouse in tow. The next button he pushed rattled the elevator and took them up. “I’m speeding up the whole plan,” he said.

  “The whole plan, or just your interaction with the kid?” Mouse implied.

  “The whole process,” Ji-ho reiterated. “The boy is part of the process.”

  Mouse hummed. “You should take it easy with the kid,” she said. “He’s important, yes. But our plans were set before he even appeared. I’m sure we can do fine without him.”

  “Yes,” Ji-ho agreed. “But we will do better with him.”

  “Is that certainty I hear?” Mouse quizzed.

  “It is,” Ji-ho replied.

  The elevator stopped, and another ding presented a different hallway to Ji-ho and mouse. This one was lined with red lights hanging from their exquisite walls, and had no sense of desolation or glum around it. Booms rattled the scenery softly, and laughter resounded from the doors to the sides.

  Ji-ho and Mouse stepped out of the elevator and proceeded forward.

  “If you pay the boy a visit at Prestige Academy, you’ll only be exposing yourself as the leader of the Blackguards, and that will be on enemy turf,” Mouse advised. “I like a bit of thrill, but our base is not exactly discrete, is it? You’ll be giving them a reason to raid the club.”

  “Another reason, you mean,” said Ji-ho. “We already gave them enough with the boy, Nikolai.”

  “And that has been taken care of.”

  “Has it?” Ji-ho stopped, raising a brow at Mouse. “I highly doubt that, considering a certain person has been lurking around us for a few days now.”

  Mouse sighed, angling her gait. “That guy’s not a problem. You’re the one who said you didn’t want him gone.”

  “He’s Merlin’s friend,” said Ji-ho. “We don’t want to antagonize the boy.”

  “I don’t know, Ji-ho,” said Mouse. “We already kinda did. One of his friends is in a hospital, isn’t he?”

  Ji-ho continued forward. “He made the decision to approach us for the drug himself. We cannot take the blame for his own decisions.”

  Mouse chuckled. “Goodness, Ji-ho. You’re funny. Now I see why the master chose you to be his successor.”

  Ji-ho pressed his lips together. “That has no relation to this conversation.”

  “You would be surprised.”

  Ji-ho sighed. He pushed open the door to the staircase that led to the roof.

  “And besides,” he continued. “If the boy holds any animosity towards us, I have someone he can transfer that aggression onto.”

  Mouse frowned. “Surely, you don’t mean…”

  “The boy is more important to us than a mere foot soldier,” Ji-ho added. “It’s a necessary sacrifice.”

  Mouse stifled her laughter at first, but, unable to hold it back for more than a second, she burst out laughing. When she was done, she leaned closer to Ji-ho and hugged him from behind, pressing her face into his back.

  “You’re perfect. I’ve never liked the guy too, so let’s throw him to the dogs, huh?”

  Ji-ho sighed. “Unhand me.”

  Mouse simply tightened her grip around him.