Chapter 85

Chapter 85: Clairvoyance (2)

"...That's how it is."

The mafia member's explanation went like this.

São Paulo Airport appeared to operate normally on the surface, but was in fact a place that colluded with the mafia to extort tourists.

He claimed his group hadn't originally been villains who preyed on civilians, but had become mafia out of necessity to survive.

To survive against the mafia in São Paulo, citizens had to band together with weapons in hand—and that required money.

In the end, he pleaded that they'd been forced to rob others to survive, and begged us to take pity on them and forgive them.

"We know what we're doing is wrong."

"But this place is no different from the wild! If you're weak, you get devoured......"

It wasn't that I couldn't understand their circumstances.

But if they'd resolved themselves to kill others, they should've also resolved themselves to die.

"You said it's a world of survival of the fittest."

"Y-yes... well, that's......"

"Then I'll have to take everything you have."

The mafia members began exchanging nervous glances.

Soon, as if reaching a consensus, they all dropped to their knees simultaneously.

"Please spare us!"

"You're clearly talented Heroes! You must be wealthy too... please have mercy on us!"

"Let me ask you something. Did you show mercy to those weaker than you?"

"That's......"

The mafia members went silent.

This was what it came down to.

Absurd self-rationalization to justify their own atrocities, paired with the contradiction of demanding mercy from others.

These people weren't pitiable citizens driven to desperation.

They were just predators—no different from the mafia that filled São Paulo.

"Disappear."

I wasn't going to kill them.

But I intended to make sure they could never commit another atrocity.

Just as I was about to punish the one in front—

"Wait!"

A shout from behind.

The voice's owner was an unexpected one.

"A little kid?"

A tiny child with a close-cropped buzz cut, still carrying baby fat. About ten years old by the looks of it. Fine features—rather cute, actually.

"To think they'd use a child this young for something like this......"

The murderous edge that had filled An Seri's eyes until now softened slightly.

Seeing a young child had apparently stirred her sympathy.

Soft.

Far too soft a reaction.

I picked up a stone from the ground and flicked it at the kid.

It was only a light toss, but at a speed no ordinary person could even react to.

The kid took the stone square in the body and tumbled.

"Ow!"

"That's too rough for a little kid! Hey, are you okay?"

An Seri's voice was thick with concern.

Having a warm heart was a good thing, but not when it clouded judgment.

"Don't be fooled by appearances."

"Huh?"

"When I threw the stone, the kid instinctively closed their eyes. That means they reacted to my attack."

Only then did An Seri realize she'd been deceived, and the venom returned to her gaze.

The mafia kid smirked.

"How did you figure out I was an Awakened? I thought I'd hidden my killing intent perfectly."

"That 'perfectly' was your undoing. When your comrades are in this state, you should show at least as much killing intent as a civilian would. You showed none at all."

"Well, well. Complete defeat."

The mafia kid laughed and shook their head.

The other mafia members called out to the kid in uncertain voices.

"Boss, what do we do?"

"They're going to kill us all."

So the kid didn't just look extraordinary—they were the one leading this group.

Should I call it impressive for such a young age, or pitiable?

The child made a proposal.

"Excuse me, how about we make a deal?"

"A deal?"

"I know it'd be easy for you to turn us all into cripples. But that doesn't get you anything, does it? So I'll give you information. In exchange, forgive us."

Impressive indeed.

The kid had immediately picked up from our earlier conversation with the mafia that we were in the dark about São Paulo, and moved straight to negotiate.

I didn't desperately need information, but there was no point taking the long way around either.

As the kid said, extracting information was more beneficial to us than just crippling the mafia and calling it a day.

"Kid, what's your name?"

"Camila. And yours?"

"I'm Cha Eunwoo. This is An Seri."

"Nice to meet you."

Camila grinned and extended her hand for a shake.

I accepted it.

***

Guided by Camila's group, we headed to their village.

The village's conditions were far worse than I'd imagined.

"Village" was generous—"slum" was more fitting.

The village was lined with half-destroyed houses, and its residents wore burlap rags instead of proper clothing.

Every villager in sight was dressed in tatters.

"This is our village. Not much to look at."

"I see."

Children were running around in the alleys.

Their bare feet were covered in wounds from the rough ground, but their faces looked nothing but happy.

"Oh, it's the Boss."

"Boss!"

The kids spotted Camila and swarmed over.

Camila, who'd seemed like she'd seen everything there was to see just moments ago, now wore a beaming smile as she welcomed the children.

"What'd you play today?"

"We played soccer!"

Looking closer, there was something dark at the children's feet.

Apparently they'd been using that piece of garbage as a ball.

"I scored three goals today! Aren't I great?"

"I scored four! I was better!"

"Yeah, yeah. You were all great."

Camila patted the children's heads with both hands.

The sight of one little kid praising other little kids was slightly surreal.

"Look over there."

One of the kids spotted An Seri and me.

The little ones each threw out a comment.

"Foreigners."

"He's handsome."

"She's pretty."

Camila smiled brightly and spoke to the children.

"They're guests, so don't be rude, okay? Best if you don't hang around nearby either."

"Okay!"

"Here, I'll give you these, so go share them."

Camila pulled bread from her coat and handed it to the children.

They were small barley rolls, but the kids received them as if they'd been given gold.

"Wow!"

"Boss is the best!"

One of Camila's subordinates following behind spoke up.

"Boss, that's your lunch......"

"It's fine."

Camila raised a finger to her lips as if to say 'not another word.'

The subordinate shut his mouth.

Watching the children run off excitedly, Camila wore a bitter smile.

"Sorry for the hassle. Let's keep going."

An Seri asked with a complicated expression.

"Those kids... do they not have parents?"

Since we'd entered this village, we hadn't seen a single young person.

Everyone following Camila, everyone walking the streets—they were all forty or older. Not a single person who looked to be in their twenties or thirties.

I was curious about their whereabouts too.

Camila shook her head in denial.

"No. It's just that all the young people were taken. Including those kids' parents, of course."

"Taken?"

"By the mafia."

An Seri's expression darkened at the shocking confession.

I didn't fully understand the details, but I could tell they had a complicated backstory.

We continued walking under Camila's guidance.

Our destination turned out to be a small bar.

"This is the one place where we have anything to offer our guests."

We stepped inside the small bar.

The people inside at least looked more human than those outside.

Though they still looked like beggars all the same.

They'd been laughing amongst themselves, but when the door opened and they sensed someone entering, all eyes turned our way.

"Boss is here?"

"Boss? Didn't you say you were hitting the airport today? Back early."

"Get anything good?"

"Sorry, but the job was a bust."

Camila's negative answer made their expressions turn sour.

"What?"

"Fuck! Have you forgotten we need to have the tribute ready by today?! What are we supposed to do with nothing?!"

"Are those people behind you hostages?"

"No. They're guests."

"Guests?"

Camila's subordinates' expressions curdled further and further.

Camila spoke firmly.

"I'll say this upfront—get any ideas about messing with these people out of your heads. They're Heroes from another country. Very strong ones."

The word "Hero" deflated the atmosphere instantly.

Being no strangers to violence, they were quick on the uptake.

"Somebody go grab some barley beer!"

"R-right."

One of Camila's subordinates rushed to bring out beer.

Camila grinned and spoke.

"I'll buy you each a round. There's nothing slipped in, so you can drink without worry."

"That's reassuring, coming from you."

"Hehe, you've seen our village—you know we can't afford drugs."

Just in case, I used my Alchemist skill to test the beer's composition.

As Camila had said, it was ordinary barley beer.

Next, dried sardine-like things came out as a bar snack.

They were tiny but reeked so badly I didn't want to touch them.

"They're bar snacks—they smell terrible, but they're surprisingly edible."

"I'll pass."

"Same as the professor for me."

"Really? Then I'll eat them all."

Camila grabbed a fistful, stuffed them into her mouth, and chewed away.

She washed them down with a full glass of milk.

"Phew, that's better. So, what brings you two here?"

"We came looking for something."

"What kind of something?"

"That's a secret. But I need information about whoever has it. Have you ever heard of a monstrous bird with three pairs of wings?"

A bird with three pairs of wings—Artus.

Its true identity was the spirit dwelling within Clairvoyance.

Geumok Guild only knew that Clairvoyance had gone missing.

But the truth was that Artus, having grown tired of the guild, had absconded with Clairvoyance.

In the game, An Seri chased Artus's trail around the world before finally arriving here in São Paulo.

In the game, even if you knew the final destination, forced quests made you travel everywhere first—but in reality, there was no need for such tedious detours.

Bless reality.

"A monstrous bird, a monstrous bird......"

Camila pretended to think for a moment.

Then she grinned and spoke.

"I think I know."

"Really?"

An Seri's face lit up at Camila's answer.

But what followed was something else entirely.

"I heard about the monstrous bird from one of the village residents. I can't quite remember who, but I should recall in a few days. The thing is, there's a problem."

"A problem?"

"Our organization is a subcontractor for PTT—the most notorious mafia outfit in Brazil. And today's the day the tribute is due... meaning both our organization and this village are about to be wiped out."

"The nerve of this kid......"

An Seri said, utterly dumbfounded.

Camila just smiled brightly in response.

Shrewd little brat.

Help us fight, or you don't get your information—that was the message.

Being manipulated didn't sit well with me, but refusing Camila's demand here meant searching for Artus with zero information.

Better to deal with the mafia problem and get the intel.

"Fine. I'll help."

"Really?"

"But this is the last time I let you play me. Remember—there won't be a next time."

Channeling even the Talent of Charisma as I radiated deep killing intent, the mafia members gulped.

Even Camila, for once, couldn't keep her composure and tensed up completely.

"...I'll remember."

"Good."

That was the absolute last line I was willing to concede.

A kid who knew how to use her head would know that pushing further would only invite trouble.

"We can either pay them what they want, or sweep them all out. Seri, what do you want to do?"

"Heroes don't negotiate with the likes of mafia."

A response befitting An Seri.

My thoughts exactly.

"Good. Let's go."

***

Just as Camila had warned, a mafia group descended on the village.

They arrived in military trucks, no less. About ten or so in number.

What was notable was that none of them carried firearms.

All they held were melee weapons.

In other words—every single one was an Awakened.

The man standing atop the lead truck's roof bellowed.

"YOU LITTLE SHITS! GET YOUR LEADER OUT HERE!"

His voice was laced with mana.

At a fairly high level, at that.

For ordinary people, the voice itself dealt damage—the slum's residents and Camila's subordinates were visibly in pain.

Only a handful of Awakened, ourselves included, were unaffected.

Camila stepped forward.

"I'm the manager of this district, Camila."

"You! Why didn't you bring the tribute?!"

"We couldn't raise the money."

"Bullshit! After we went out of our way to lend you a prime gig like São Paulo Airport?! By the boss's orders, you useless trash are getting disposed of!"

FWEE—!

One of the mafia members behind him fired an arrow at Camila.

I swung Jeivult and deflected it.

"Huh? What's an Asian doing here?"

"I'll deal with him."

"Go ahead. Hold on... that guy's face looks familiar somehow... where have I seen it?"

Not all Awakened were created equal.

There was an enormous gap between Heroes who'd learned to wield their power systematically at an academy, and mafia who'd learned to fight on the streets.

In sports terms, it was like the difference between professionals and amateurs.

"This might sting a little."

I transformed Jeivult into a cudgel.

What followed was nothing but one-sided domination.

WHOOOM—!

"Gurk!"

The number ten meant nothing—the mafia members couldn't keep their wits about them under my cudgeling and dropped one by one.

Before overwhelming skill, numbers were meaningless.

Only then did the man who appeared to be the mafia's leader jab a finger at me and let out a scream-like shout.

"W-w-wait... you—no, sir! You're Korea's Cha Eunwoo?"

"You know me?"

I hadn't expected anyone to recognize me here.

Being identified in South America was a novel experience.

"Kn-know you?! How could I not know the Hero who brought down SH?!"

His words sent a shock through everyone.

"The Hero who brought down SH?!"

"No way......"

"Wh-who the hell are we fighting right now?"

Being a villains' home turf, they knew the name SH well.

Their fear was quite convenient.

I issued them a quiet warning.

"If you cross my sight again, it won't end well for you."

"Y-yes sir!"

The PTT mafia scrambled onto their military truck and fled.

I turned to Camila.

"You remember our deal, right?"